Good Friday - March 29, 2013

The Cross is More

Around the necks of many folks

You’ll see throughout the land

Are links of silver or of gold

Connected in a band.

On these necklaces you’ll see,

At least on quite a few,

A pretty pendant hanging there:

The cross of the King of the Jews.

But the cross is not a decoration;

It isn’t something pretty.

It’s the piece of wood that killed our Lord

It’s vicious, mean, and dirty.

In hymns we sing of this piece of wood

And it sounds like a thing that’s great.

On a hill far away in its ruggedness......

I will cling to it!  I can’t wait!

Or we’ll put one up in our sanctuary

Like some artwork for our eyes.

And sometimes miss that on that cross

Our savior Jesus dies.

The cross is not a decoration;

It’s not beautiful at all

It’s injustice.  It’s brutality.  It is tragedy;

The bitter fruit of Adam’s Fall.

When something’s present all our lives

In culture, church, and home,

It’s hard to see it for what it is......

It’s hard to feel it in our bones......

It doesn’t weigh upon our hearts

Like a dreadful, dead and lifeless stone.

The cross is our redemption, yes!

For Jesus died for you and me.

But let us not forget the cost

That Jesus paid upon that cross.

The cross made out of awful wood

Not gold, bejeweled, but stained with blood.

He suffered pain beyond our ken

So that sinners could be born again.

Maundy Thursday - March 28, 2013

Corbin, Alyssa, Peyton, Naomi, Kaleb, Lakia, and Kara.

I have struggled and wrestled with what to preach in this sermon tonight.  I wanted to speak directly to you, but the things I wrote kept sounding like a lecture.  I wanted to tell you all kinds of things about communion.  There are all kinds of things that you can learn about it and that are worth knowing.  I certainly want you to keep learning about it.  But I didn't want to give you a lecture.  Instead, I wanted to tell you something really simple.  Or more like 3 things.

The first thing is something you already know because it's a part of your daily life.  It's something that you do.  And it's something that other people do to you.  It has a lot of different names.  In the Lord's Prayer it is called trespass.  In our confession it is called sin.  Sometimes we call it debt.  Or brokenness.  Whatever we might call it, you know all about it because you live with it.  Sometimes you are the one who sins.  You have hurt another person with your words;  you have disobeyed your parents; you have stolen what wasn't yours; you have looked at something you weren't supposed to look at when your parents were gone; you have laughed at a cruel joke; you chose not to help someone who was hurting.  The list of these wrongs is very long.  You know that.

And there is something else that you know.  You know that other people have sinned, and when they sinned you were the one who got hurt.  You were the one who was the butt of the joke.  You were the one who had something stolen.  You were the one whose secret was discovered by a snoop.  You were the one who was called a mean name.  And it hurt.  You know this.

So this is the first thing that I want to tell you.  You are sinners.  And you are hurt by other people who are sinners.  You are like everyone who is gathered here tonight in this room.  The whole world is made up of people like us.  And even though we might try, we can't seem to avoid sin and all of the hurt that it causes.

The second thing that I want to tell you tonight is that this sin hurts God too.  It's difficult to explain how this might be so.  Does our sin make God sad?  Does our sin make God angry?  Does our sin hurt God because of the compassion he feels for the one we are hurting?  These things are probably true, but we can't know exactly because in many ways God is a mystery to us.  But it is important to know that when we sin, we are sinning against God, not just against another person.

And that leads to the third thing that I want to tell you tonight.  God loves you.  And he decided to do something about this sin and brokenness.  Jesus, who is God, came and died on the cross.  And by doing this, he accomplished something amazing.  It is called the Blessed Exchange.  The Blessed Exchange means that Jesus made a trade with each one of you.  He took your sin, your brokenness, your trespasses, your hurt and pain and all of those terrible things died with him on the cross.  In exchange for these awful things, he gave you forgiveness, a new life now, and the promise of eternal life.  That’s a pretty good trade.

So what is Holy Communion?  It is the place where Jesus promised to be to give us these benefits.  He promises to be there, in the bread and in the wine.  And each time we go there we hear the promise, "for the forgiveness of sins" "this is my body given for you" "this is my blood shed for you."  And so we know, as we taste the bread and the wine, that this is Jesus giving us the benefits that he promised, the things that he gave us in exchange for our sins.

And so, for the rest of your lives:

1. come to communion to confess your sins and to give them to Jesus
2. Come to communion to be given again the forgiveness and new life that he has promised to you.
3. Come to communion to be with other sinners, sometimes the very people who have sinned against you, and who are being forgiven too. 

5th Sunday in Lent - March 17, 2013 - Luke 15:11-32 (a week late because of snow storm?)

Jimmy and Dad argued again last night at dinner.  Or rather, Jimmy argued at Dad because it’s always that way.  Jimmy mouths off about something and stirs things up for no good reason.  Dad stays calm and tries to reason with him.  But Jimmy doesn’t care; he doesn’t listen.  He just waits until Dad pauses to breath and then he jumps back in with his complaining.  I honestly don’t know how Dad puts up with it.  Or why!  His son is such a little jerk.  Yeah, I know he’s my brother, but somehow it doesn’t seem like it.

[Later]

Jimmy doesn’t deserve to be Dad’s son.  What an arrogant, self-satisfied little.......  We were breaking bread together last night, after a hard day’s work, when he blurts out that he wants to go away.  He’s not interested in farming, he says.  He wants to go out and see the world, he says.  It’s hard living with us, he says.  I asked him, jokingly, how he thought he was going to pay for this little trip?  He didn’t answer, but turned to Dad and said, “Dad, I would like for you to give me my inheritance right now.  You love me, right?  You won’t deny me that, will you?  Mom always said she wanted us to be happy and to be happy I’ve got to go.”

When he mentioned Mom, everything went red.  I punched him as hard as I could.  How dare he mention her like that.  How dare he!  Dad pulled us apart and gave me a hurt look, like it was my fault.  I had to leave I was so mad.  One of the servants told me later that Dad actually agreed to give Jimmy the inheritance.  I don’t see how.  Dad’s wealth is the land.  What’s he going to do?  Sell it? 

I’m still mad about Jimmy mentioning Mom like that, but the more I think about it the more I realize he treated Dad like garbage.  You don’t demand your inheritance from your own father; that’s like wishing him dead.  And with Mom already gone?  That’s just sick.

[Later]

What an absolute mess our lives have become.  I’m still mad at my father for giving in about the inheritance.  Just because Jimmy demanded it didn’t mean that Dad had to bend over backwards to give it to him.  We had to sell off the southern fields in order to get the money together.  That’s where Mom used to take us in the summer time because of the shade of the pomegranate trees on the far side.  And then by late August they were ripe enough to eat.  I remember digging around, trying to get out every last bit of fruit, getting juice stains all over my fingers and face.  Jimmy probably doesn’t remember that since he was still little.  And when Mom died we didn’t go there anymore.  Not like that.  And now we won’t have the chance to do so again.  I’m surprised that Dad can bear to part with it, but I suppose it was that grove of pomegranate trees that got the nice price. 

Jimmy said he was leaving as soon as he had the cash in hand.  ...... I hate him.

[Later]

I came home early from the fields last night.  Coming over the rise I was surprised to see Dad sitting next to the field.  Actually I was worried that he’d come down sick or had a heart attack.  So I ran towards him, calling out, “Dad, Dad, are you alright?”  He scrambled to his feet, looking somewhat abashed.  “Dad, are you okay?”  “Yes I’m fine,” he said.  “What were you doing?”  “Just resting.  It’s been a warm day and it must have gotten to me.”  It seemed a little odd to me at the time, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  But I think it’s because of the way he was staring.  He wasn’t looking down, like he was tired, even though he seems awfully weary these days.  He was staring off into the distance.

[Later]

It’s happened a few times now, that I’ve caught Dad staring off into the distance.  It took me a while to figure it out.  It’s not that he’s staring off at nothing; he’s staring down the road; he’s looking for something;...... he’s sitting there waiting for Jimmy to come back.  It gave me a shiver when I finally understood.  He’s pining for the son who stabbed him in the back.  And once I figured that out, I started noticing all kinds of little things: Dad hardly talks at dinner anymore.  He’s been letting me run things more and more.  I thought it was because he trusted me and knew I was doing a good job.  But I think it’s because he’s busy mourning the loss of Jimmy.  Well what about me?!  To hell with it, if he’s going to keep moping around after that son of his, then I’m not going to bother with him.  There’s plenty of work to do and it appears that I’m the only one interested in getting it done.

[Later]

Things have settled in pretty nicely these days.  I’ve been making some improvements on the northern fields and the last few harvests have come in really well.  So well, in fact, that when old Jacob died, we were able to redeem the southern fields from him.  I’m still amazed at how things came together to make that happen, but I pulled it off.  When Dad dies, I am going to have myself quite a nice little estate.  I still love him.  I just don’t understand him.  I don’t understand how he let himself get manipulated like that.  Maybe he’s just weak and I didn’t know it before.  You know?  I think he’d actually forgive Jimmy if he ever came back.  He’s never gotten over it.  Dad would welcome Jimmy with open arms.......  Not me.  If Jimmy came back penniless and naked, I would make him beg and kiss my feet.

[Later]

He came back.  I couldn’t believe it when I heard it, but he really came back.  It happened just as I’d guessed.  Dad had mercy on him and threw him a party.  It was quite the party, so I hear, but I couldn’t go in.  Dad came out and talked with me.  He knew I was mad.  I let him have it...... and then he said some things.  And then he put his arms around me and whispered that he loved me too.  And I wanted so much to stay angry.  I wanted him to admit that none of this was fair.  I wanted him to apologize.  I wanted all of the hurt from all of the years to be taken away.  And he stood there and hugged me as I started to sob.  “I don’t ever want to lose you, son.  It would break my heart.”  

First Sunday in Lent - February 17, 2013

What are bookends?  They are two solid, heavy objects that belong together.  Often they are the very same object, with the simple and only difference that one is turned in one direction, and the other in the opposite.  Others are not the same objects, but are like a single object that has been cut in two.  For instance, one book end would be the head of a fish, while the other would be its tail.

What do bookends do?  Their purpose is to hold up the books which are held between them.  To give definition. : The books in between will be vertical.  They will be pushed together.  The bookends give the sense that the books which are found in between belong together.

In our gospel lesson today, we have a bookend.  Jesus is led to a particular place where he  will endure a trial.  It is the wilderness.  Jesus is making himself vulnerable at this time by fasting.  Fasting produces physical weakness.  He consents to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit and to become vulnerable in order that he might rely on God to bring him through and prepare him for something important which is to come.  In this instance, the thing for which he is being prepared is his ministry.

So what happens?  In the wilderness, after 40 days of fasting, at which time he was surely very weak, the devil comes to him.  I’d better nip something in the bud.  The devil is surely not some kind of ridiculous cartoon figure with horns and a tail.  This would be to defeat his aims, which are to seem reasonable and even likeable so as to tempt a person into doing that which they should not do.  So the devil comes to a weakened Jesus and begins to tempt him. 

First, he tempts him with pride, “If you are the son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.”  A prideful man would reply, “You’d better believe I can do it; just you watch.”  But Jesus is not a prideful man who needs to justify himself before others.  He declines the temptation.

Next, the devil tempts Jesus with glory, showing him the kingdoms of the world and saying, “To you will I give their glory......”  A man interested in his image would say, “That’s mighty enticing.  I think I’d like that.”  But Jesus is not interested in his image.  He declines the temptation.

Finally, the devil tempts Jesus with false piety, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here......”  A man interested in his religiosity might fall into the trap, thinking, “If I’m really a spiritual man, I had better show my faith.”  But Jesus is not interested in his own religiosity.  He declines the temptation.  The devil then departs.

These temptations are an attack meant to destroy God’s son before he can do his work.  These attacks are designed to appeal to a man’s self-regard.  What the devil did not seem to realize is that Jesus came to the wilderness absolutely vulnerable; he was in his father’s hands.  In his father’s hands he had no reason to justify himself or to seek glory or to prove his faith.  He already had all of those things.  And so instead of destroying Jesus, the devil provides him with a defining experience that will launch him into his ministry.

Now for the second bookend.  If we look to the end of Jesus’ ministry we will see it.  He is led to a particular place where he  will endure a trial.  This time the place is not the wilderness, but Jerusalem.  Jesus is making himself vulnerable by going to the very location where his enemies are most powerful.  This time the enemies are the Scribes and Priests.  Jesus knows full well that they are going to kill him. 

So what happens this time?  His accusers come to him and have him arrested and he is put on trial.  But instead of mere temptation, this time he is put to death. 

The first attack was intended to destroy Jesus before his ministry started.  This attack against Jesus is intended to destroy him before his work can be completed.  But they make the same mistake.  Jesus arrived at Jerusalem in a state of absolute vulnerability, trusting completely in his Father.  By killing a willing victim of perfect innocence the Scribes and Priests actually further the work of Jesus instead of destroying it.  For it is by such a death and then his resurrection, that his life became available to us.  This is the second bookend.

So then, the two bookends share the following characteristics:

• Jesus becomes willingly vulnerable; that is, he entrusts himself completely to his father.
• He endures suffering from powerful forces who seek to destroy him.
• This experience of vulnerability and suffering further his mission.

What I would like to suggest to you today is that these two bookends which stand on either side of Jesus’ ministry are the defining characteristics of his whole ministry.  They give his ministry its meaning and its form.  Certainly Jesus performs many miracles, he heals people, casts out demons and teaches.  But these things all lie in service to a single ideal.  The Son of God becomes vulnerable and suffers for the sake of others.  This is the heart of the story, the heart of the gospel. 

Ash Wednesday 2013

At a certain age, it was 15 when I was growing up, you young people get it in your heads that you want to learn to drive motor vehicles – and not just the gator or scooter or snowmobile variety, but you want to go the whole hog and drive the full size variety.  You want to drive cars;  you want to drive trucks; you want to drive very large and expensive tractors.  Now you realize, for many of your parents this is a frightening prospect.  They love you, of course.  But full sized vehicles are deadly pieces of machinery and are not to be taken lightly.  And so instead of just handing you the keys and letting you have at it, they insist that you learn about and then practice the ins and outs of driving a vehicle. 

It is particularly this latter that matters: practice.  To drive a vehicle isn’t something that you can read about in a book and then do well.  No, you need to get into the driver’s seat, put the keys in the ignition, start up the engine, and then go.  And for just about anybody, it’s going to be a bit herky-jerky, a little uncomfortable, maybe even somewhat embarrassing. 

For my part, I learned to drive in a 1993 Mazda 323, a little hatchback.  It was a stick shift.  I killed the motor, I revved the motor.  I crawled along.  I leaped forward like an over-eager frog.......  And then we left the driveway.  To learn to drive I needed practice, lots of it.  And so I practiced.  I needed to learn how to drive in order to become an adult.  And so I practiced.

As we begin Lent, our Lord Jesus Christ gives us a lesson about the importance of practice.  Now it’s a message that we might easily miss.  We might miss it because he delivers it wrapped up in a warning.  The warning is this: “Beware of practicing your piety (that means doing good things for God) before others in order to be seen by them.”  Is this warning the message?  No, it is not.  If this were the message, then we could most easily obey Jesus by making sure that we never did any good things at all for God.  Because if we never did these pious things, we wouldn’t run the risk of doing them in front of other people.  Problem solved.  No, the message is not: Don’t do good in front of other people!  No, the message is this: Practice doing good.  Practice doing good. 

Why would we need to practice doing good?  I can think of two reasons:

• Because doing good, being pious, is worthwhile.  It is a worthwhile goal to try to do the good things that God wants us to do.  And because it’s a worthwhile goal, we should practice it, so that we can do it well.  That’s one reason.
• Another reason is this: doing the good that God wants us to do isn’t easy.  In fact, doing good can be awfully difficult.  Sometimes we try to do good and just make a mess or even hurt people.  I can remember on one occasion making breakfast in bed for my parents.  I think it might have been my mother’s birthday.  We had every intention of doing good.  But let me assure you that we did not provide a good breakfast.  It was terrible, if not entirely inedible.  Doing good takes practice.  And so we are to practice our piety so that we can do it well.

Lent is traditionally a time for practicing.  Over the centuries, people have taken this church season as an opportunity to try to go beyond what they normally do.  In Lent, the church has traditionally asked more of its members.  The most obvious example of this is that we have extra worship services on Wednesday nights. 

As we start Lent, I would like to ask something of you.  Instead of “giving something up,” try doing something good for God; try practicing your piety.  Try doing something that is really worthwhile.  Perhaps you might make a change that is too overwhelming to make if you had to think about it as a permanent change.  But what if you just had to do it for 40 days.  What if you just made a commitment to practicing it for awhile?

Here are some suggestions: 

• Do you tithe?  If you don’t, it might seem overwhelming to give away ten percent of your income.  That’s understandable.  So why don’t you practice doing it for Lent this year?
• Do you take time to pray for other people, especially the people you don’t like?  Why not get up fifteen minutes early and do that?  Fifteen minutes isn’t too overwhelming.  And practicing it for forty days, you could make that work.  And if prayer is hard for you, then practicing it would be a great idea.

Doing these things, or others that you think of yourself, they provide an opportunity for God to work in us and change us.  And we might find that by practicing our piety, we will get better at it.  So choose to do something good this Lent.  And practice it.  Never mind if it’s uncomfortable at first or if you aren’t any good at it.  Just keep practicing.  And may God bless you richly for it.