Sunday, September 30, 2018

Our children are watching



Mark 9: 38-50   

Just a cup of cold water…

That’s what Jesus might have wished he would see after he said to his disciples, “Whoever among you want to be great…. be a servant to all the rest…” he might have wished he would see them acting kindly to one another, widening the circle, treating others with respect, sharing, cherishing…
After all Jesus was holding a child in his arms as he spoke to them… but no. The closest followers of Jesus still aren’t getting it by this point in the story. We can tell because in response to that invitation to a new, humble way of being in the world, John says this, “Ummmm… some people were casting out demons (yeah, that thing we weren’t able to do just a few chapters back) and we told them to stop it.”
Really?!                                                      You can see why Jesus loses his temper at this point. Clearly, metaphors aren’t working, so Jesus gets really worked up. Like Moses, long ago, who wanted God’s Spirit to fall on everyone, anyone who would operate out of love and compassion, Jesus looks them in the eye and tells them if they are going to put obstacles in the way of children to know and love God, frankly it’d be better for them to drown in the sea.

The children are watching… that is something I keep in mind when I’m preaching. I want to tell the truth the very best I can. Some part of me wants to get really animated about the events of this week, wants you to hear me outraged with you at the injustices we face… as women, as people who have suffered, as poor people, as people of color, as political people struggling for justice… I want to use Jesus-level metaphors for what those who abuse power can do to themselves… stuff like encouraging them to remove the body parts that cause them to sin, like Jesus did.
I want to show my outrage in solidarity with you, particularly because as I see what’s troubling you, as I interact with you, I want you to know… I hear you. I feel your pain. I want a different world, a world where women and children and men and elders are valued and honored and treated with the utmost respect.

And I remember the children are watching.
Far more than our outrage at injustice, I really want our children to see modeled for them in preaching and in our worship and our lives together, I want us to show them what Jesus was trying to get at before getting all worked up—eye gouging, worms, hellfire—before all that hyperbole, Jesus wanted them to serve one another. He wanted them to know the mercy of giving some thirsty person a cup of water.

Honestly, I did not have a lot of time to be glued to the news this week.
First, I learned of John Opara’s death… if you didn’t know him well, John was the one who even after multiple strokes, would stand up and read the scripture to us occasionally. He deeply wanted to serve God, and when he read the Word a few months back, I thought—some of the scriptures he read to us just wouldn’t sound the same coming from anyone else. That is the beauty of having such a diverse group of people willing to read…that we glimpse God in them, and we will miss him so much.

Next, our beloved Angie Shoaf who has served in the church office for five years was home sick this week and then hospitalized. Many of you know that she is a cancer survivor, and that months ago her doctors found cancer again. At Angie’s request and in cooperation with the Personnel Team, we have been moving as quickly as possible to find an Office Manager so that Angie could train in that new person and leave to pursue writing and art and tend to her health (her timeline, her ideas)… but this week, we realized together that the cancer is progressing too quickly to make all those plans possible. So, I sat with Angie and Randy as they waited for tests and absorbed the news and went home to embark on what we hope will be a healing marathon.

So that’s all to say that when I finally turned my attention to the news, it was Thursday evening. That evening, I talked with my mentor who had been absorbed by the hearings all day and was now not only troubled by the accusations but by his own judgement that this man would not be a capable or fair judge. On Facebook, I read post after post from traumatized women who are understandably outraged by a society that seems unable and unwilling to love and listen to women. I read the heart-breaking personal story shared by Jim Bear Jacobs, the wise Mohican teacher who led us on the Healing Minnesota Stories Lakota storytelling journey a few months ago, who shared that as a child, he was abused by his stepfather for 5 years before it came to light and went to trial. He described a trial that was very much like the hearing in the news this week… only Jim Bear, a 12-year-old boy, was the defendant. He had to face his abuser—“by all accounts an upstanding man”—and tell the truth. Jim Bear ended his story with these words, “..you may see a man passionately defending his character from false accusations. I see a man that is deathly afraid of losing all the privilege, comfort and power that he has enjoyed for many years. I’ve stared into those eyes as a 12-year-old boy. I recognize it for what it is. Not righteous anger, but uncontrollable fear.”
Uncontrollable fear… it cuts us off. Just as certainly as gouging out some body part, fear makes us worried about all the wrong things.

How different things would be if a powerful man, risking one of the highest positions of power in the land, looked at his accuser and said, “I am so sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. I was a reckless youth, and I have learned so much since then. I want to be different, I want to make things right, and I am not in a position to be a fair and impartial voice. I step down in order to serve…”
That would be like a cool cup of fresh water.
It seems impossible, but we’ve all seen things like that, too.

We’ve seen those who ask for forgiveness, who seek to make things right, who show the children (and all of us) that there is good, there is healing, there is reconciliation.
We might not see justice, we might not see mercy in the short-term… but we do not have to be filled with despair because we know that God’s reign and God’s way bends toward mercy and justice.
Richard Jensen writes in Preaching Mark’s Gospel, “Whenever [someone] wants to draw lines in order to mark who is outside the kingdom and who is inside, always remember: Jesus is on the other side of the line! Jesus is always with the outsiders!”
With those who grieve, with the ones preparing for surgery, radiation and chemo; with the one abused, made vulnerable and called a liar… Jesus is with all of these.

Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber writes:
… sometimes it’s even harder to accept not just that God welcomes all, but that God welcomes ALL of me and ALL of you. Even that within us which we wish to hide: the part that cursed at our children this week, or drank too much, or has a problem with lying, or hates our body; the part within us that is too fearful to give our money away, or is riddled with shame or cheats on our taxes. ALL the parts of us we wish Jesus had the good sense to not welcome to his table are invited to taste and see that the Lord is Good. ALL of who we are is welcomed to his table to see that the gifts of God are free and for all.
Because here at this table, you can bring the most broken pieces of your life. Here you can bring the most broken pieces of this world. Here you can bring the most broken pieces of yourself. And you can receive, with no payment or worthiness on your part, the equally broken body of Jesus Christ. You don’t have to understand it or accept it. You don’t have to put boundaries or defenses around it. You just do it. So come with all of who you are and receive the living bread come down from heaven. Receive life and forgiveness and salvation with all the other broken saints, for it is this that unites us in the love of a powerful God.                                    [
8-28-2012, sojo.net]

A cup of mercy given to the thirsty… at this Welcome Table we show our children how to share, how to receive God’s gifts, how to be truly great. Together, we notice God’s Spirit going where it chooses and let go of fears and judgments. Together, we show each one that they are cherished.


Sunday, September 23, 2018

Afraid to ask? Look to children, practice love



Mark 9:30-37

As you heard this story of disciples walking along with Jesus, remembering what they heard in the beginning of this scene—how Jesus was going to die and then rise—I wonder… what did you notice first? Well, I noticed they were full of questions but they were afraid to ask.
They were afraid. Because they were afraid, they didn't ask their questions. They didn’t talk about their fear, and then suddenly, it’s coming out sideways. I bet you’ve seen that before. I know I have… we’re upset about one thing so suddenly we’re arguing about something else. And in this case, the disciples are arguing about who’s the greatest.
Because they’re afraid, they’ve started thinking there’s only so much to go around… there are only one or two prime seats right beside Jesus and they’re fighting one another for the spot… because they’ve forgotten that with Jesus, there is abundance, more than enough to go around.
Fifty years ago, in 1968 in this congregation, there was a Centennial Celebration and in the booklet, Pastor Winnie Johnson wrote this note:
“In all honesty, we must confess our concern as to whether this congregation will be able to celebrate another centennial. However… we must not forget the promise and the purpose of our existence, Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. It is [Christ] who calls us into new ventures where we cannot see the end; to walk by faith into paths untrodden and perils unknown. It is Christ who has promise to guide and support us…”
How wonderful that Pastor Johnson had the opportunity to see Christ flourish again within his lifetime, continuing friendships with people of Christ until his death just a few years ago…
But also, we have to acknowledge that the scarcity story that Pastor Johnson names is a story that has been around this congregation again and again throughout the 50 years. We’ve wondered again and again, are we really going to end up with enough this year? Over the years, there have been many sermons (I’ve been told)… encouraging  the people of Christ that this story of “never quite having enough” doesn’t have to be our story.

Instead of holding on to our fears, worrying about our position, and arguing with one another on the way, Jesus invites the disciples to a way of life that turns all these stories upside down. Jesus looks to a child as the one who will model welcome of the living God. A child, overlooked and undervalued in that time and place (and sometimes in our times and places), will show us the way.
And so all week, my colleagues reflecting on the heart of this story have been noticing children leading the way—one mentioned the crossing guards that circle elementary schools all over the cities. They serve each day, they guide and protect both children and grown-ups.
Another image that comes to mind are our own children, receiving their Bibles… I’ll never forget Rory last year receiving his and taking it immediately over to the coloring table and digging right in.
Another favorite image I saw this week was in a short film from the Campaign to End Loneliness in the UK… I posted it on our Christ Facebook page, but for those who didn’t see it, it starts with a question. Have we forgotten how to make friends? Then continues, “To find out, we sent in the experts.” Several children are sent in to approach people who are sitting alone at cafĂ© tables. They say “hi” and then ask them random, nosy questions, leading into this one, “Where are your friends?” One woman responds, “Well, I’m from Jamaica, so a lot of my friends are there…” A young man responds, “I’m new in London.” An older man says this, “Well I’ve had hundreds and thousands of friends. At the moment, I have a lot of Facebook friends…”
The kids say, “Well, maybe I could have coffee with you.” “Do you like coffee?” “Yeah.” “Do you? What’s your favorite kind of coffee?” “Hot chocolate.”
“I think everyone should be friends,” they say.
The grown-ups, while charmed by the kids, continue to think of obstacles. “Well, I couldn’t just go up to someone in here and ask them to play with me, that’s be a bit strange.”
“I think everybody should talk to everybody,” the child persists.
In the end, the kids and grownups exchange hugs and fist bumps, “You’ve really made my day…” one adult says, and a child sums it up, “Making friends is easier than eating chocolate.”
The video ends like this, “Remember when making friends was child’s play? Let’s be more open. Let’s be more together. Let’s be more us.[1]
Grief and fear want to divide us, but here is what we have the opportunity to do together. We have the opportunity to follow our children and dream big. Because of Jesus, we know that scarcity doesn’t have to be our defining story anymore.
Throughout God’s unfolding story, God bridges every divide… There’s a welcome table for strangers where God promises the gift of a child and the gift of mercy for a whole community. There’s manna and quail in the wilderness for people leaving a slavery mentality behind. There’s a little flour and a cup of oil that never run out.
Throughout Jesus’ ministry, Jesus broke bread and it multiplied enough to feed not only disciples but thousands. Jesus broke bread on Maundy Thursday, in the middle of his own grief, and dared to believe that even though his own heart was broken that somehow, love would multiply.
Our hearts break… because of personal stories that fill us with grief and fear, because of news that breaks our hearts, but we don’t have to be divided against each other, wondering if there’s really enough to go around, stuck in scarcity stories… instead we’re daring to move forward together holding onto a story of abundance.
Today, we will gather after worship and have an opportunity to get a first glimpse, a preview of this giving opportunity we’re calling—The Welcome Table…together, we bear fruit.
In this Capital Campaign, we hope to expand, to multiply our congregation’s ability to give love, to make a difference around tables, to share bread. We hope that we will grow in relationship through this shared gifting.
In today’s gospel, Mark is pointing to something important, something essential, about believing in Jesus. Because God becomes human, the incarnation, [turns over] every assumption of greatness that we think of as definitive. Because God becomes human, greatness is not about separation but solidarity, not about comparison but relationship. Not about self-[promotion] but empowerment and encouragement of [others]…
Greatness is determined by weakness and vulnerability. By service and sacrifice. By humility and honor. By truthfulness and faithfulness… we are called to embody this kind of greatness, so that the world can witness the true meaning of greatness born out of love.[2]
Can we imagine together that this is Christ’s call for us now? I wonder… and I hope we won’t be afraid to ask. But even more, I hope that we won’t be afraid to learn from Jesus and look to our children. They know the power of friendship around a table, a Welcome Table… where we’ll share bread, grow in relationship, practice love.


[1] BMB Agency Published on May 9, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rS-mWHNvQbo, Accessed 9-22-2018
[2] Karoline Lewis, Dear Working Preacher for September 23, 2018, workingpreacher.org