Monday, July 29, 2019

Sermon: Lord, Teach Us...Proper 12 (C)


Proper 12 – Year C                                                                          July 28, 2019
Luke 11:1-13                                                 Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

I knew I was a clergy person when I stood in a circle at my first church with youth and adults who had gathered to welcome me.  As the time came to close, every eye turned to me. “Anybody want to close us with a prayer?” I asked. The silence was deafening. After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity, someone replied, “We’ll leave that up to you, Rev Deb – you’re a professional pray-er.” Let me just tell you this: praying well in public could be a considered a spiritual gift, but you certainly don’t have to be seminary trained to be good at it.

If you ask adults about their study choices, many immediately think – prayer. We want to get it right. We want our prayers to be meaningful and eloquent. We want prayer to be a spiritual discipline, and not just something we do when we have a pressing need. From today’s gospel lesson, I think the disciples felt the same way.

This scene takes place immediately after Jesus’ visit with Mary and Martha. If you ever wanted more evidence that Jesus was an introvert, I don’t think you’ll find a better example. The passage starts with this phrase, “He was praying in a certain place…” (v1). Perhaps fatigued by his encounter with sisters who had different ideas about what quality time with Jesus would look like, he needed to recharge his battery. (Other examples, see Jesus sleep in the boat on a stormy sea and praying in the Garden even when he knew the soldiers were on their way). Fortunately for Jesus, the disciples were not quite as persistent as a toddler waiting for mom to finish up in the bathroom. They waited until he was done and then asked him to teach them to pray also.

Why ask at this moment? Was there a serenity about Jesus they wanted for themselves? Maybe they saw prayer as Jesus’ “magic sauce” – at the same time drawing people to him, and also helping him stand up to those who challenged him at every turn.

What about us? Are we looking to be in closer communion with God? Are we interested in techniques? Or are we just trying to figure out why, after all these years, it feels like we’ve made little or no progress when it comes to prayer? Will prayer books and journals give us what we need? You want prayer techniques? I’ve got lots of books for those. But I don’t think that was the disciples’ problem and I don’t think it’s ours either. I fear what we seek is magic prayer, the right words to make God give us the things we are asking for in the ways and time we are asking them. And that’s where our plan to build a better prayer life fails.

Do you notice anything surprising about Jesus’ prayer? First of all, it’s short. But short is good. I mentioned my role as a professional prayer earlier. In spite of the assumption by many that because I’m ordained, it’s my job to be the pray-er, I am just as likely to hear sighs as people settle in for a flowery, theologically dense and, for lack of a better term, long prayer. Of course, you all know that’s not my style.  I am just as likely to hear, “Wow, that was short,” as I am, “wow, that was great.”

Did you notice anything else? How about what Jesus asks for? Jesus’ prayer is not a cosmic wishlist. He doesn’t list a bunch of petitions or requests for miracles. He’s not trying to persuade God of anything. He’s not imposing his will on God. Instead, he teaches us to see and be open to God’s will in everything, today and every day. In teaching us to pray this way, he breaks old stereotypes about why we pray. We don’t pray because we are instructed to, or to change God’s mind. Instead, we pray to know God’s mind and to direct our lives to the intentions that God had for from the very beginning.[i]

Christian theologian, Richard Foster, has spent a life’s work studying prayer. On the Lord’s prayer, he writes, “I determined to learn to pray so that my experience conforms to the words of Jesus rather than try to make his words conform to my impoverished experience.” He goes on to say, “If we long to go where God is going and do what God is doing, we will move into deeper, more authentic worship and living. In prayer, we begin to think God’s thoughts after him: to desire the things he desires, to love the things he loves, to will the things he wills.” [ii]

From the beginning of the prayer, OUR FATHER, we set the tone for our encounter. This is not the relationship of a master to slave but as the best kind of communion between parent and child.

HALLOWED = HOLY = BE YOUR NAME… this is the highest form of praise, but we make this confession not for God’s benefit, but for ours. When Moses experienced the voice from the burning bush, he asked, “Who are you?” God replied, “I AM.” Simple, perfect, and everything we need to spend a lifetime getting acquainted. It’s so easy to place ourselves at the center of the universe. My needs, my wants, my beliefs, my desires… the more self-centered we become, the less we are focusing on God’s needs, wants and desires. This part of the prayer reminds us that this is not the way God intended it to be.

GIVE US OUR DAILY BREAD… In one way, I don’t really know how to pray this part because I’ve never been really hungry. The kind of hungry that goes and scavenges food from a restaurant dumpster after closing… the kind of hungry of giving up food so someone I love can eat… the kind of hungry that gets peanut butter sandwiches instead of a hot meal at school because my mom hasn’t had the money to pay my cafeteria bill since Christmas.

But I don’t think Jesus is just talking about food here. I think he is talking about asking God for what it takes to be strong enough to do God’s work in the world. Yes, that might be food-related, but it also about seeing our relationship and communication with God to be as necessary to our living as breathing and eating are. This part of the prayer asks God to feed our souls so that we can be prepared to help feed the stomach and souls of the world.

THY WILL BE DONE… What does it mean to give ourselves over to God’s will? As they say, it’s complicated. For one thing, it will look different for everyone and in different times and places. God’s overarching will is always that we live faithfully in him. But the specifics, those are not so easy to see or understand. We think of prayer as our way of talking to God, but even more important is prayer as our listening post. We are not only called to pray confidently that he will give us the grace to become instruments of his will, empowered to proclaim him, and serve him… but that we will also hear how we are called to give of ourselves… to be active extensions of his love, his hands and feet and voice in the world.

FORGIVE US AS WE FORGIVE OTHERS… it’s really the only quid pro quo in the whole prayer. If this, then that… to get mercy, we must give mercy… beyond giving, we must be forgiving… we can’t just say it, we must live it. Even when we don’t want to. Even when anger and striking out are justified. Even when it feels impossible. And while we know that we might not get forgiveness from others for both mistakes and willful sins, God’s forgiveness is available, especially when we are in the mindset to receive it.

Jesus’ lesson on prayer didn’t end with “Amen… let’s eat.” He finished his teaching with examples of what LIVING this prayer is all about it. I’m sure each of you can think of a time when you went out of your way to help someone, or someone did the same for you. Jesus taught that prayer is also about persistence. It’s about repeatedly asking and seeking and receiving because of the deep love of God and love for one another.

In the movie “Shadowlands,” British author C. S. Lewis marries American divorcee Joy Gresham after they discover she's dying from cancer.  When her condition gets a little better, Lewis responds to a friend who says that God may be finally answering Lewis' prayers.  Lewis says, “That's not why I pray, Harry.  I pray because I can’t help myself.  I pray because I'm helpless.  I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping.  Prayer doesn't change God; it changes ME.”  In his speech to his friend, Lewis reminds us that prayer is not a message scribbled on a note, jammed into a bottle and tossed into the sea in hopes that it will wash up someday on God's shore.  Instead, prayer is communion with God.  We speak to God, but God doesn’t always speak back in words.  God also touches, embraces, shapes and changes us through relationship – with God and with others.  No matter what we pray for, our prayer is answered because in the act of praying we receive the gift we really seek – intimacy with God.

The Lord’s prayer also teaches us “Public Theology.”  It is a prayer taught by the church to people who are seeking to be the church, the body of Christ.  It is not just the prayer of our waking and going to sleep.[iii] For many of us, this is our go-to prayer when we are out of words. But as we pray this prayer in our communion liturgy, let us not think of this as a rote prayer devoid of meaning. This is our centering prayer. Love of God… Love of neighbor… it’s always the main thing.

I read a post on one of my preacher sites the other day in which a minister was bemoaning the fact that her new church called everything “ministry”. She seemed to be concerned that they were doing a lot of outreach in the community without any expectations of reciprocal teaching… no tracts, no sermons, no asking people if they were saved. She wanted to draw a line – Ministry for “Jesusy” things… Good Works for everything else. Needless to say, lots of people have had a different opinion of her situation, and most tried to help her see that her congregation was getting it right. It’s easy to get caught up in the numbers and statistical reports, while the most important thing is so far from those requirements.

And it reminded me of a time when we were in a congregation like that in Oklahoma, who had monthly free community lunches, and drives to make sure that no child in the county went to school without new supplies and a least one special gift under tree at Christmas – for 750 low income children. Wow, it took a long time to get everybody there – lots of prayer and lots of convincing, most led by our youth who wanted to make a difference in the lives of their friends and their families. They dragged us from our safe places into a world we would never forget.

One Thanksgiving at midnight, I was with our crew loading up carts with toys and other gifts, and when the cashier asked who we were buying for, I told her that we were the church heading up the toy drive for DHS. She asked, “Are you from that Methodist church on Main St?” And when I confirmed her suspicion, she smiled big and said, “I’ve heard about ya’ll…. You’re that church that loves people.” My friends, that doesn’t happen because of us – that comes from the power of lived prayer.

If the world feels like it’s a mess, and that our efforts are falling behind our intentions if you’re tired of keeping up a façade of having our personal and collective acts together, know that you are not alone. Trust me, many days my prayer time starts with “Dear God”… includes a word salad of concerns, praises, and questions… and also deep, painful silences… But when the Amen comes, I remember the lesson we learned today. The disciples said, Lord, teach us to pray. And he did. And without requiring them to get it perfect, he said, “now go and live it…”

Peace, Deb



[i] Sellery, “Teach Us to Pray,” July 28, 2019 https://mailchi.mp/davidsellery/teach-us-to-pray
[iii] Will Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas, Lord, Teach Us: The Lord's Prayer & the Christian Life, Abingdon Press, 1996

Sunday, June 30, 2019

sermon: Proper 8C - The Freedom Paradox


Third Sunday after Pentecost, 8C                                                                           June 30, 2019
Galatians 5:1, 13-25, Luke 9:51-62                                        Panzer Liturgical Service, Stuttgart

The Freedom Paradox

Freedom: the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.

As we prepare for Independence Day celebrations this week, we often think of the word Freedom, if we think of anything besides hotdogs, watermelon and fireworks. As a preacher, I find it ironic that the Revised Common Lectionary chooses lessons about freedom on the Sunday before this holiday. And mildly annoying… and challenging… especially this year.

Everybody wants freedom. School kids like summer vacation because it’s an escape from mandated bedtimes, homework, and early morning trips to school. Among us there are students preparing to leave for college, looking forward to the freedom of living away from home and setting their own schedules. The adults among us are looking forward to the freedom of vacation, focusing on seeing new things and renewing relationships with family and friends.

We’d love to think that freedom is only about the ability to act without hindrance or restraint. But I don’t think that’s the way that freedom really works. It only takes a few days for even the smallest child to remember that sleep is good. It only takes until the first test, or lab, or writing assignment, to know that college works best when there are schedules and routines. Freedom requires responsibility.

As Americans, we think of freedom as one of our inalienable rights. Our forefathers said these rights were granted to us by our Creator – life, liberty & the pursuit of happiness. It’s so easy to slip into a mistaken belief that it’s my life, my liberty, my happiness that are most important. That is not the kind of freedom that Jesus and Paul are talking about. It’s also not the kind of freedom that the founders had in mind, either, but that’s a conversation for another time.

In his letter, Paul reminds us that freedom is not absence of responsibility. True freedom is about dedicating our lives to the gifts of life which God has placed before us. Freedom through Christ, no matter where it leads us, means choices, more often than not putting others needs before our own. As Americans, freedom means that we are willing to make sacrifices to serve our country and our community. As Christians, it means the same. We must be willing to serve one another in love, and follow Christ wherever that road leads.

So how does this happen? In Christ, we are a new creation. We learn about who we are as we study scripture, experience God in worship, mission, and in our life together. It is those relationships that we understand the kind of freedom Christ promises and Paul teaches. Last week, Chaplain Trotter reminded us that Paul’s ministry as a roaming preacher and teacher, and that he wrote letters to correct communities who hadn’t fully absorbed the essence of living on the “Jesus way.” The Galatians were caught up in the controversy over whether or not converting Gentiles had to become Jews first. In this letter, Paul drives home the final lesson: that their freedom is neither limited or empowered by their motivations. Jesus wants people to follow in love. And everyone is welcome to come.

The same is true today. The Bible has stood the test of time. Whatever questions we have about how can be in the Kingdom are answered right here, not in rules, but as we model the relationships we encounter. So many things divert us from our primary mission – to live and love as Jesus’ witnesses in the world. Like other early Christian communities, we get bogged down in the rules of engagement and forget that it’s the relationship with him and with our fellow travelers that gives our lives meaning.

Fortunately, Paul writes of the freedom that teaches our spirits to live. In Eugene Petersen’s biblical paraphrase, The Message, he translates the fruit of the Spirit into action words, helping us to see how to put each of them into practice.

But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.  (Galatians 5:22-23)

And how do we do those things, day in and out? Paul names those gifts: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and the hardest – self-control. They don’t all come at once, and they are often hard to hold on to, but this fruit – this gift – of the Spirit gives us the courage and strength to follow where Christ leads, and to answer when he calls. This fruit grounds us, and centers us, and anchors us in the faith to which we have been called.

The cost of discipleship is the central theme of the Gospel text from Luke. Jesus has "set his face towards Jerusalem." From early in his ministry, maybe even from the very beginning, he was journeying there in order to fulfill God's plan for his life, a plan that involved a cross and crucifixion on Calvary.

On the way, Jesus encountered a lot of people. Some of them were insiders… some of them not. To many Jesus’ message sounded pretty good, but also a little odd. T some it was revolutionary, even dangerous. I venture to say, it’s a little of both. In this passage, we see an encounter between Jesus and some people who were testing him out. The first man said, “Lord, I'm ready to follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man has nowhere to lay his head." Wow! That’s a pretty big commitment to go into a future without a map or timeline in hand.

To another Jesus said, "Follow me," and the man replied, "I'll come along but first I need to take care of some family business. I have to bury my father." To this, Jesus replied, "Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the Kingdom of God." Now, I think it’s safe to say, our first impression is… wow, that’s harsh and hard! What does Jesus expect? Burying one's father, going home to say goodbye to family and friends, these are perfectly normal things to want to do. Yet in his words to his would-be followers, Jesus is making it quite clear that there is a cost to discipleship. Following him means understanding the call to living Jesus’ kind of life… sacrificial and unadorned.

How hard is to follow Jesus in this way? In his book, A Conspiracy of Love, Kurt Struckmeyer writes, “Lots of people believe in Jesus. They just love him to pieces. They worship and adore him. They praise his name. They invite him into their hearts and accept him as their Lord and Savior. But not as many people are willing to follow him.”

As modern-day Jesus people, we understand Jesus’ words, but do we stand under them? Are we just worshipers of Jesus or are we followers? Because if we are followers, there is a cost to that kind of discipleship.  Our journey, this Christian life that we have been called to, parallels the journey of Jesus to Jerusalem.  Jesus is telling us, up front, that our journey with him will not be an easy one.  If we follow in the way of Jesus, we cannot expect to have an easier road to travel than the Master does.  For as the Father has sent Jesus, even so he sends us.  Signing on with Jesus means that everything becomes secondary to serving the Kingdom of God.  Following Jesus will cost us. But it will also make us free.

The balance of all this freedom comes with practice. And eventually it changes the way we live every part of our lives. It is hard? Yes! Does it take practice and accountability? Also, yes! So how can this be done? What Paul is saying is, “I know you can’t do this on your own, so let this fruit be your standard and your guide… let them light your way and the way of others. With this fruit as the foundation of how we think and how we act, there is no limit to what can be done.

I know that some of you come to church looking for a word of encouragement in the midst of difficult challenges. Many of us are smackdab in the middle of caring for our kids and our worrying about our parents and older relatives. Many of you work every day, late into the night, to keep what little peace is balancing in the world. We are left reeling by the news that one of us was in worship last Sunday and tomorrow will be having the first of several surgeries and treatments for what looks like cancer. And at every turn, we wonder how to make good decisions that will keep us and our families safe and secure and if we are even making a difference.

And I’m pretty sure that you come here to get away from the overly-political nature of our society. And here is where I’m going to disappoint you. Because I think these lessons about freedom and responsibility don’t just apply to our own lives and those of our families and friends. Following Jesus means caring for people outside our comfort zones. It means digging deeper into the disturbing news of the day and figuring out what is real and how we are called to respond as people who are called by Jesus to follow.

Here, we are gathered without regard to denomination. But most of us relate to some ecclesial body in the US or Germany that speaks out for and ministers with the least, the last and the lost. I’m giving you a homework assignment this week.

Find your denomination or church’s website, look for the advocacy or relief section, and figure out how you can be a helper. Maybe it’s giving money to support the work being done. Maybe it’s reading and learning as a family with available resources. Maybe it’s writing to or calling your members of Congress to ask for support for legislation that your denomination supports. Maybe it’s doing something that I would never even think of. I believe that God is speaking to each of us to serve in some new way. Listen to the voice. You’d be amazed what you can do from so far away.

It’s so easy to be lured into the belief that we have to work our way into the Kingdom of God. But that’s not the way it works. We are already members of Christ’s body and of his Kingdom. Jesus and Paul both teach us that we need to step up and embrace the paradox of freedom. It is only in the freedom of love and service that we will truly encounter the Christ who lives in our hearts.

Peace, Deb


Sunday, June 23, 2019

Military Retirement: How do you know when it's time?

Two years ago, my spouse retired from the USAF after 27 3/4 years of service. It was an amazing experience, and there are very few times when we wished we had made different choices.

We knew that a move was coming that summer. We expected it to be our last active duty move and that we would have 2 3/4 years to decide what and where we wanted to be when we grew up. But it only takes one call from the assignment "guy" to have the whole plan turned on its head. Deployment service is honorable, and at a different place in his career, the answer might have been yes. But with very little conversation, we both knew that the answer to the question this time was no.

And because of the way the assignment process works in the Air Force, once you turn down an assignment, you must retire within four months. There are a lot of requirements, legal requirements, to get out of the military... classes and briefings, budgets and resumes, military medical and Veterans Administration appointments to be arranged. And living on an Army post overseas added two more layers of complication. But we made it!

Even if you think you're ready to say goodbye to military life, it's hard. It's a big adjustment and some do it better than others.  Here are some of my observations - I'm sure that I'll keep adding to the list, but I have to start somewhere.
  • Imagine going on your first job interview at the age of 50... let me tell you it's not pretty. 
  • Imagine putting together a post-retirement budget before you even have a job... nerve-wracking!
  • Imagine doing 10+ different jobs in a 28-year career and trying to make a resume for each of those specialties.
  • Imagine not knowing where you want to live because you've can't decide among all the good choices you have, or maybe because you have trouble committing.
  • Imagine going to the doctor to document all the aches and pains that you've spent a career ignoring because they might keep you from doing something amazing or important.
  • Imagine having to actually think about what you're going to wear to work.
I know, I know... most people already do these things every day, but for military members and their families, these are brand new, often overwhelming experiences.

One of the things I've realized is that the unknown of retirement is much more stressful than the unknown of the next assignment. Again and again, we have asked the question, "What if we make the wrong choices?"

In the end, we went very "gut instinct" - we didn't feel like Germany was done with us, and we were right. My spouse has been in his job for almost two years, and every day we realize the choice was the right one for us. We hope that when it's time to move on to a new experience, we'll get the same vibe.

To all of the families that are going through the same thing, this is just an affirmation that you're not going crazy - it really is that hard. But it does get better... eventually.

Peace, Deb

Monday, June 10, 2019

Sermon: Pentecost C: What was private is now public (Confirmation Sunday)


Pentecost Sunday – Confirmation Sunday                                                  June 9, 2019
Acts 2:1-21                                                                               Panzer Liturgical Chapel
What Was Private Is Now Public

Many of the most important scenes involving the followers of Christ after Christ's death took place in out of the way places. Mary seeing Jesus at the tomb, Jesus with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, the ascension at Bethany, these all took place in private or remote scenes. But with the advent of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, all becomes public. It starts out private. The disciples and other followers gathered in an upper room, to pray together, and to await Christ's promise, God's gift. But soon that small room cannot contain all of that power. People outside begin to notice something is going on... Something unusual.

Of course, those outside were human, too. They wondered if those Galileans were not imbibing on some new wine. "Drunk in the middle of the day!!!" All of that Spirit was unsettling to say the least. And Peter stands up and addresses those assembled. “This Spirit is sent by God, to witness to the fact that Jesus Christ is God's own Son. Prophecy is fulfilled on this day. All who invoke the name of the Lord shall be saved.” Peter, the one who denied Jesus before the crucifixion and had to see for himself that Jesus was not in the tomb… the Spirit has created a new man, one not afraid to stand up and proclaim boldly, "Jesus Christ is the Son of God."

If there is anything this story teaches us about ourselves, it is not by our own power that we are able to proclaim God's victory in our lives. It is the power of the Holy Spirit, the power of the risen Christ, that gives us the courage to speak aloud the truth, that Jesus Christ is the Son of God.

Today is a joy-filled day in the life of our congregation as our confirmation journey comes to a close. For the last four months, these youth people have gathered to learn in two areas: about the beliefs and history of the church and what it means to live everyday as a disciple of Jesus Christ. Don’t tell anyone, but this has been one of my favorite groups – I can assure you from the very first class, they have kept me on my toes.

First-week questions in our discussion of baptism included:
• Why does the bible always refer to God as a man?
• How is the Holy Spirit different from God and Jesus? and
• If God has a plan, does that mean we don’t get to make choices for ourselves?

Week by week we tackled new questions. Some had easy answers, but please let it be noted that sometimes the best answer is, “I don’t know… but let’s try to figure it out together.”

Throughout the class, we have not talked so much about the “don’ts” but mostly about the “dos.” We took for our class motto, “Love God – Love neighbor” – even and especially if that neighbor is nothing like us. And we tried to think of the ways that we can live the gospel – the good news – using words only when necessary, because as we are taught from kindergarten, “Actions speak louder than words.”

I think it’s very appropriate to celebrate this important milestone – a public profession of faith – on Pentecost Sunday. This is the birthday of the Church - a day of new beginnings. It reminds us that Confirmation is not graduation. Today is not the day these youth graduate from church; this is the start of something important. Confirmation marks a new beginning in their faith journey, a public profession of faith, the first of many recommitments to a life of faith in God and Jesus Christ.

Confirmation does not mean freedom from, but instead responsibility to Christ and the Church. Each young person here has had the opportunity to think about what this means in their lives. Through the last few weeks, we have had some chances to share what difference, what impact, this act of public profession will have on each of their lives. The overarching theme of our time together has encompassed these two points:

++ First, that confirmation is about taking responsibility for your own faith journey. Each of these young people were baptized when they were infants, or when they were too young to take on the responsibilities of their baptisms for themselves. Now is the time when they are affirming the promises made at their baptisms. God said, “I do” to them a long time ago. Now they are saying, “I do” to God for themselves.

++ Second, confirmation is about being faithful and responding to the opportunities for spiritual growth which are offered in this community, at home, and in the world. You see, it is not enough to say, “I’m in charge now” without the understanding that being in charge has certain requirements. Each of these young people is charged with the responsibility to continue the good work that they have started. Not only do we encourage them to continue worshiping and learning about the life of faith, but ask them to serve God and their neighbors in the ways they see opening before them. We encourage them to practice spiritual disciplines, like prayer and studying their bibles and looking for the story of faith in the world, expecting to see and experience God is the neighbors who are like us, and those who are not.

This Easter season we have spent a lot of time on the word, “Love.” It is the centerpiece of what it means to be a Jesus follower. Love should drive everything we do as we respond to the love that Christ has showed us. Whether we are young people making our first public profession of faith, or adults who have refocused our faith many times, we must remember that our commitment to faith is all about responding to the love that we have received. And even if the faith we bring is very small, God has the ability to take that tiny bit of faith and grow it into something that is life-changing for us and for the world.

Peter Storey was a Methodist Bishop in South Africa. Partnering with Bishop Desmond Tutu, he helped the Christian church there be a force for good in the transition from Apartheid to democracy. His words here echo the dramatic nature of event this first Pentecost Day, when all people who were willing were united in the power of the Spirit, God’s gift to the church. He wrote, ““Some tell us that following Jesus is a simple matter of inviting him into our hearts. But when we do that, Jesus always asks, “May I bring my friends?” And when we look at them, we see that they are not the kind of company we like to keep. The friends of Jesus are the outcasts, the marginalized, the poor, the homeless, the rejected—the lepers of life. We hesitate and ask, “Jesus, must we really have them too?” Jesus replies, “Love me, love my friends!” —Peter Storey, Listening at Golgotha: Jesus’ Words from the Cross

Peter and the followers of Jesus gathered in the Upper Room to grieve the loss of their beloved leader. But before the day was done, they were driven into the streets, speaking in the languages of the world, proclaiming the good news of God’s love. On that day, what was private became public, and that is what we celebrate today. These young people are making a commitment to continue to grow in faith and to the best of their abilities, to be the church. Our response is to make sure that WE continue to be the church, and to provide a place for us to be in faithful ministry together.


In the name of the Triune God, let us pray:

Gracious God, Please give us:
intellect to understand you, reason to discern you,
diligence to seek you, wisdom to find you,
a spirit to know you, a heart to meditate upon you,
ears to hear you, eyes to see you,
a tongue to proclaim you, a way of life pleasing to you,
patience to wait for you, and perseverance to look for you.

May your Holy Spirit guide and teach, give us the courage to walk in your ways, to the glory of your name.[1]  Amen.



Sunday, May 19, 2019

Sermon - Easter 5C - Knowing – Living – Loving


Fifth Sunday After Easter – Year C                                                                                May 19, 2019John 13:31-35 & Acts 11:1-18                                                                       Panzer Liturgical Chapel

Have you seen my favorite commercial? A teenage boy, in normal fashion, opens the refrigerator, pulls out the OJ, and drinks the whole thing down, right on the spot. And in the background, you hear a mother’s voice, coming from another room, and saying, “You’re not drinking from the pitcher, are you? And don’t put it back empty.” Which, of course, he has already done. Our parents know us well.

After all, they’ve had a lot of practice. We’ve been their children for a long time. And since the beginning, they have recording our behavior, deciding what to expect from us and what will be a surprise. Some parents even believe they can predict their children’s behavior, not matter how old they both get. Whether we’re married with children, stranded in that weirdness called adolescence, or toddling through life, our parents think they know us better than anyone else, and as much as we hate to admit it, in many ways, they’re right.

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

The disciples were pretty much like us. They were predictable, too. Jesus knew the Peter would deny him. He knew that Judas would betray him. He knew that the other disciples would stay at arm’s length through the coming hours and days, even though they did not know it themselves. He knew these things because he had spent lots of time with these people. He had seen them react to the good and the bad. And he loved them in spite of what he knew.

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

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


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

Love is a word that is used too readily in our society. We use it to mean physical attraction, deep affection, common courtesy, or mutual affection. But that’s not all there is to love.

Because of Jesus’ promise, love is communication by the Holy Spirit with us and through us. It is the conversation which feeds and nurtures us and, at some point, gives us the courage to reach out so that we can be the hands of Christ. Love is about sacrifice. Love is about holding one another accountable. Love is about putting other’s needs above our own. Love is giving praise and encouragement when it is needed, but also the willingness to be grabbed up by the collar and hear, “I love you… How can we pull this all back together?”

In short, if we are willing to reduce Christ’s commandment of love to merely a reciprocal mutual admiration society, we are not doing a very good job of following Christ. Love is hard work. It takes a lifetime to do it well and with the right intentions. Sometimes it seems that we get nothing for it… except the satisfaction of knowing that we have done what Jesus asks of us. And ultimately, the love of Christ will always keep us connected to one another and to him.

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

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

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

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

The reading from Acts displays a scene that was a big Turning Point in the life of this new church. It was the next step forward for the Church and for us. The early church leaders were wrestling with the question of whether or not it was necessary for Gentiles to become Jewish before they could become Christian. As this dream repeats three times, Peter recognized a community open to everyone, including those who had been shunned and deemed unacceptable. No longer second-class members, they were recognized as complete members of the household of God.[i]

After WWII, a young Canadian Naval officer left the service of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy and thought about pursuing the Catholic priesthood. Somewhere along the way, his ministry took a turn, and the L’Arche community[ii] was born, an intentional community where able-bodied and mentally disabled people live as a family, intentionally serving one another. The Greek philosopher, Aristotle, presumed that those without full mental faculties were unable to form deep friendships because of their limited capabilities. Over 50 years of ministry, Jean Vanier proved that to be incorrect.

Theologian Stanley Hauerwas wrote of Vanier on his death in early May:

I sensed that Jean was a person of holiness, and holy people frighten me. I am, after all, a theologian -- which means I know just enough about God to know that God sends people like Jean Vanier to make us think more deeply about God’s being present in Jesus Christ… I could not help but recognize the challenge he put before us… to see the gifts that differently abled people bring to the world… He had been made different by living into that challenge -- being present with differently abled people that loved him and that he loved. For if Jean was different, it was because of his ability to see the disabled as human beings…He understood that the mentally disabled feared that they could not be loved because of their difference, and this deep insight made all the difference. Many of Jean’s friends knew that their very existence may have disappointed their parents. Jean overwhelmed their fears by not only loving his friends but loving being loved by them.[iii]

Jean Vanier did not just imagine a community where everyone was equally loved and valued – he made that a reality. L’Arche communities live under this motto: “I THINK LIKE YOU, BUT DIFFERENTLY!” With or without an intellectual disability every person has unique value. Whatever one’s intelligence, EVERY PERSON HAS TALENTS TO SHARE WITH OTHERS.”

Operating on 5 continents in 38 countries, 158 communities and 21 special projects involve over 10,000 people, both abled and disabled, L’Arche International is making known the gifts of people with intellectual disabilities, and working together toward a more humane society.

You may have dreamed a particular future for yourself, but I speak from experience when I tell you that God’s dreams are so much bigger than yours – and if you are brave enough, together you will change the world for everyone. Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment: love one another…and if you do this, people will know that you belong to me.” And so we go on… wanting and needing to know and love the world as well as God knows and loves us. Knowing – living – loving, that’s what it’s all about.  Amen.


[i] Brian Peterson, Preach This Week, “Commentary on Acts 11:1-18, May 19, 2019, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4061
[ii] L’Arche Communities FAQ https://www.larche.org/faq-en
[iii] Stanley Hauerwas, “Jean Vanier was a dear friend to me and many others,” Faith and Leadership, May 14, 2019, https://www.faithandleadership.com/stanley-hauerwas-jean-vanier-was-dear-friend-me-and-many-others?fbclid=IwAR3enUPLn2cFlUibJaZrZNEC4Wmn2CUQBKBm0-M20jVhN47INN2sTYyi2-0

See also Bruce Epperly, The Adventurous Lectionary, Fifth Sunday of Easter – May 19, 2019, https://www.patheos.com/blogs/livingaholyadventure/2019/05/the-adventurous-lectionary-fifth-sunday-of-easter-may-19-2019/
David Lose, Easter 5C, “Questions about love,” In the Meantime, April 22, 2016. http://www.davidlose.net/2016/04/easter-5-c-questions-about-love/
Philip Yancey, What's so Amazing About Grace?

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Sermon - Easter 4C - Jesus is calling "come home"

4th Sunday in Eastertide, Year C                                 May, 12, 2019
John 10:22-30                                       Panzer Liturgical Service

Raise your hand if you have seen a sheep in the last 10 days. My guess is that many of us see sheep often, at least more often than we would if living in the US. Our village is in the country, and
we have a shepherd. I’m guessing his flock numbers about 100. You can often see them grazing in one of the many fields surrounding town, penned in by a portable fence which could probably be breached if the sheep gave it a thought or two.

But if you take the time to sit and watch, you will see something pretty magical. The lone shepherd can control the whole herd with the sound of his voice and single herding dog. I have sat for long stretches of time watching. The sheep just eat whatever is in their path, very helpful for hills and fields hard to manage with a tractor or mower. But as sheep will, eventually they will stray too far from the approved area, and with just the sound of his voice and his trusted helper, the shepherd can bring them back into the fold.

Likewise, when it is time to move on to a new location or go home for the night, the shepherd gives a voice command and walks away. Like magic, the sheep follow. They know the sound of his voice and they follow, with the dog encouraging any stragglers from the rear. This sets the scene for today’s lesson.

I don’t know if you noticed, but during Eastertide, we read from the Acts of the Apostles instead of the Old Testament. And until today, we have encountered a post-resurrection Jesus in John’s gospel. In the Synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark & Luke, we encounter a very human Jesus. While mysterious in the way of past civilizations, we can at least relate to the worries and wanderings of Jesus and his motley crew.

But in John’s gospel, we move to a whole new plane. Written as many as 50 years after the other gospels, the stories and theology of his ministry have matured and incorporate new dimensions. In John’s gospel, Jesus is more other-worldly, events and conversations have multiple layers. What looked plain and simple before is more nuanced, and we are constantly surprised at the Jesus we see. 
On the Fourth Sunday of Eastertide, we stay with the gospel of John, but now, looking back to before the crucifixion, we hear Jesus’ words with resurrection ears. At Solomon’s Portico, the place where Jewish kings would have rendered judgment, some Jewish authorities following Jesus try to pin him to the wall.

In short, they say, “Don’t beat around the bush… tell us plainly – are you the Messiah, the Christ, the Promised One, or not… don’t waste our time – if there is someone else, then you are not worth our time.” Of course, Jesus does not take the bait. In fact, he puts himself in a more precarious position by egging them on.

Jesus replied to them, “You keep asking who I am and I keep showing you and telling you but you don't want to believe what you are seeing and hearing because it's not what you want to hear. The people who listen to my voice and recognize the truth are they are the ones who follow me. They will get the ultimate gift and there's nothing that you can do to stop it.”

In this passage, Jesus once again redefines Messiah. Jews have been expecting a great King like David, a warrior and slayer of enemies. But that is not who Jesus is. Jesus is the Good Shepherd, the one who gathers his flocks with his voice - the one who cares for the outliers, who looks for The Lost ones, welcoming all willing to follow him.

I'm pretty sure that Jesus’ willingness to hang out with “the wrong people” drove the Jewish leaders crazy… their position was always, “outsiders need not apply.” Jesus’ message was different – not one of power, but one of love. And he preached that message to everyone who would listen, no matter who they were, especially those misfit disciples and friends.

It's no wonder that the unlovable are the ones who heard Jesus first. They were the ones that were most desperate for the power of the message Jesus had to share. Without wealth, position or power, they were outcasts, the sick, the poor. Maybe for the first time, they heard that their lives were worth something. And that they had something to contribute, to be a part of something bigger than their pain.

This is exactly what got Jesus killed.  The Jewish authorities who questioned Jesus didn't want something new and different. They wanted what they expected, what they were promised.  They wanted retaliation for all the harm done to them. And when it became evident that that is not what Jesus would give them, they tried to make sure that he would not give anyone anything. Looking at this from a post-Easter perspective, we can see how ludicrous that really was.

This image of the Good Shepherd is one of affectionate call and response, rather than one of power and might. Jesus was constantly asking people to trust him, to follow him. He was saying, “You belong to me. You can't be taken away by anyone - no one can snatch you from my hand or tell you otherwise.” This is our security, for sure.

Because of our confidence in God’s love for us, we can be assured that we are not just connected to Jesus, but also connected to all who follow him, who love him and have committed their lives to him. Jesus said, “I have come so that they could have life - so that they could live life to the fullest” (John 10:10). This gives flesh to the bones of the proclamation: Jesus is the resurrection and the life.
Many other voices compete for our attention and affection. They threaten to drown out this simple message of love, hope and peace.  Our job is to focus in on the voice that tells us we are loved for who we are. Our place in Jesus’ flock is secured, not by the things we do to earn this love, but through our willingness to live this love in all we do and say.

I’ve been leading confirmation classes since 1992. In the beginning, it was about understanding church membership. But over the years, I have realized that it has to about something more. Making a public profession of faith is about more than membership – it’s about committing our lives to something bigger than creeds or doctrines or church laws. Our confirmation class of 12 come from various traditions, with many and even competing church rules and regulations. Fortunately, this has freed us up to talk about the really important stuff.

Like: What does it mean to be a child of God? What does the Lord require of us if we are going to follow his voice? We are learning and relearning what it means to be a part of big “C” Church. We are being reminded that this journey is not just about our personal development and growth, but about how we put those things to use in the Kingdom of God. And we are regularly talking about how our commitment to God is not our way of gaining entrance into heaven or avoiding a more painful outcome. It is our way of living gratefully in response to how much Jesus loves us and figuring out how we can reflect that love as we live every day.

The time that we spend trying to climb up to God is really wasted time. Instead, we have to acknowledge that we are totally dependent on God climbing down to us. That’s what God did for us in the person of Jesus. When Jesus calls himself our shepherd, he is telling us that he is the one who will look for us when we are lost and have wandered away. He is the one who brings us back to the fold, saying, “Hey. let’s give this another try.”

Last weekend, author Rachel Held Evans, a 37-Year old recovering evangelical writer died. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say she was one of the great religious minds of this century. Raised in a conservative evangelical tradition filled with bible drills and purity pledges, she took her faith seriously enough to ask difficult questions, which earned her the scorn of evangelical authorities and the gratitude of millions of readers, to whom she gave permission to begin asking questions they had never spoken aloud. After years of trying to seek change within her own faith community, she finally gave up. She became one us – a liturgical – specifically an Episcopalian.

She wrote hundreds of blog posts and Twitter conversations, but only four books, and I grieve for the words that will never come. Each is worthy of a good read. But I believe her books Searching for Sunday and Inspired will leave lasting marks on those who want to give up on Church but somehow feel compelled to give it at least one more try. She talked a lot about the Church’s need to welcome all, love all, and be accountable together.

In her Searching For Sunday chapter, “Dirty Laundry”, she wrote about why she loves the prayer of confession so much.
These brave prayers are just the start. Like the introductions at an AA meeting, they equalize us. They remind us that we all move through the world in the same state - broken and beloved - and that we're all in need of healing and grace. They embolden us to confess to one another not only our sins, but also our fears, our doubts, our questions, our injuries, and our pain. They give us permission to start telling one another the truth, and to believe that this strange way of living is the only way to set one another free. 
Those Jewish leaders who questioned Jesus were looking for someone to bring order and discipline to the world in which they lived. But what if that’s not what Jesus came to do? The Good Shepherd says, “Come home… there is a place for you here.”

So here’s the question I leave you with today: What do we do with that?

Prayer: Lord Jesus, having searched for and then found us, having sought for and then spoken to us, having moved us by your grace to respond to your reaching out, now we are bold to pray that you will keep us in your care. Stick with us, Lord. Even when we disappoint you and stray away, keep us close. We are grateful that it is your nature to forgive, to keep working with those for whom you died, to keep returning to us, even when we would turn away from you. We confess that we are totally dependent on your grace to carry us through. Keep us close, Lord, that having spoken for us, you might preserve and keep us, now and always (Willimon).  Amen. 

Peace, Deb

=============
Resources: 
Will Willimon, “We Are Spoken For,” Pulpit Resource, Vol 47 No 2 Year C, pp 18-20.
Rachel Held Evan, Searching For Sunday, Chapter 9, “Dirty Laundry.” Thomas Nelson Press, Nashville, 2015
Also see Elizabeth Johnson, Preach This Week, April 17, 2016 http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2813
David S. Sellery, This Week’s Focus -  Belonging, April 17, 2016

Saturday, March 2, 2019

To be braver and stronger than before …


When was the first time you realized that your parents were human? Not like you thought they were aliens before, but human in the way that they were not perfect and sometimes made mistakes. It happens to all of us – and it’s sobering and sad and maybe even makes us mad.

After that moment, we realize that we have agency. We have choices. We get to look at things from our own perspectives and make decisions that our parents wouldn’t make. And while it’s freeing, but it’s also scary. We can no longer rely only on the things that we have always believed or be bound to the way that things have always been. It means we have to do our own work to in figuring out the big questions of our lives.

I walked in a peace demonstration in Washington, DC the weekend after the Gulf War started, January 1991. Will Willimon was the Dean of Duke Chapel and he called me into his office and told me to reserve two vans from the motor pool and fill them up with students to represent the university and the chapel. And because I was his intern, I did just what he said. It was a holy day, and on the way home, I realized that this was a privilege that might not so easily be available to me anytime soon. 

It was a formative experience, but I didn’t talk about it with anyone in my new church because I got burned as soon as I got home. I shared my trip with my parents, who were not just worried that it would endanger my ability to get an appointment, they were mad. They felt that I had dishonored my dad’s service in the Army and all of those who fought for freedom. I disagreed. Eventually, our relationship healed but I kept the info close hold. 

Only two years later did I confess the trip to an Air Force pilot on our second date. I wanted to it out of the way in case this was the thing we couldn’t get over. His reply: “We need people willing to say the hard things that keep our leaders accountable.” In 24 years of marriage, I still feel that support, but have always been careful to make sure that my beliefs and actions do not reflect poorly on his service to our Country… I was a quiet ally, some would say.

Fast forward to today: I’ve had gay friends for as long as I can remember. It wasn’t until I went to seminary in the late 1980s that I was confronted with the position of the United Methodist Church on homosexuality. When I was ordained a few years later, I promised “celibacy in singleness and faithfulness in marriage,” and I was OK with that. Within two years of my ordination, I was engaged and then married and life ticked on as normal.

For my gay friends – not so much. They were not afforded the same options as me. Marriage was not sanctioned by the church or the State. I was continually tamping down this feeling of unease, that members of my community were being discriminated against because of their biology using biblical arguments of submission, many long since discarded.

I didn’t make public statements but tried to be a quiet ally. Still, friendships were lost. People left churches and even some left the Christian faith because the implied message was “You are not good enough” and “You will never really belong.” Some lived unauthentic lives in order to stay in the good graces of the Church. Some openly defied the Church’s rules and many, but not all, paid a heavy price.

Meanwhile, I was also living in another world. When the US Congress repealed the “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy for military service, there were innumerable warnings of gloom and doom. Instead of morale going down, it went up. Instead of readiness suffering, it was enhanced. What could be more affirming for a workplace environment that people living out life with no apologies or excuses for who they are?[i] And when marriage equality became the law of the land, we celebrated with new families offering gifts to our military communities. I had every hope and expectation that my denomination would soon join the growing list of mainline Protestant churches that opened ministry and service to all who felt the call of God. I saw a path to greater understanding and acceptance.

So far, that’s not how it turned out.

A lot of people much smarter than I have written about the process and outcome of our recent called General Conference.[ii] And the reality is that while legislation was passed, we don’t even know if it can be enacted because of continuing constitutional issues. And maybe it doesn’t matter, because damage has already been done. And we're not sure yet where we go from here.

Over the last week, I’ve cried a lot of tears. I’ve asked a lot of questions. And I’ve tried to gain perspective on where we’ve been and where are now. In this short time, I recognize several problems with our approach – because hindsight is 20/20 and in gaining some clarity maybe we can keep from making the same mistakes.
  • We operate out of a place of fear rather than mercy.
  • We thought that there was a legislative solution to a heart problem.
  • We misunderstand the role of “power” in how we live out life in the Church, letting the ways of the world dictate solutions and behaviors instead of rejecting them for something totally new and Spirit-led.
  • We haven’t remembered and thought and taught what it means to be Wesleyan Christian. 
  • Some of us thought it would be enough to pray and be quiet allies from behind the scenes, seeking safe protection from what others would think if we took a more open stance against the status quo.
I am guilty of all of those and many more that I can’t even name right now. And I have no magic solutions to make this all go away. But I can address my own failings and be a better, more vocal advocate to the LGBTQIA[iii] community, in and out of the Methodist context. 
  • I have to learn more about this community, it’s history and struggles and heroes. 
  • I have to study more about what John Wesley taught theological conflict in his societies. I think some of this work can be done through the Wesley quadrilateral, but I may have to start reading Wesley’s sermons again. And Charles Wesley’s hymns.  
  • I have to be braver in saying what I really believe, and back it up with good theological and biblical research to support my gut instincts about how we can be a Church that welcomes all to ministry and leadership in the Church.
I have no idea what that will look like in practice. I'm sure I'll get both pushback and support along the way. This is just the beginning of a new chapter in the faith journey that started at my baptism and continued through my confirmation, call to ministry and marriage, to the place where I am today.

I’ve recently studied the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Jesus didn’t just tell this story for fun but in response to a specific question. The conversation went something like this:
Questioner: “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus answers with a question: “What does the Law say?”
Questioner: “Love God and love your neighbor.”
Jesus: “Do this and you will have eternal life.”
Questioner: “But who is my neighbor?” 

And you know the story from there. Jesus ends the parable with the ultimate answer… the neighbor is the one who showed mercy… The question for us is this: what will it take for all of us to become those merciful people?

John Wesley had 3 rules: Do No Harm. Love Others. Stay in Love with God. I’m pretty sure that’s our starting place.

Peace in Christ,
Deb