“In Response to our Generous God” Psalm 104

            1 Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, you are very great. Clothed with honor and majesty, wrapped in light, God appears before us in the grandeur of creation.   13 From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.  Even though I grew up in the flat, coastal lands near Houston, TX,  I find mountains often speak to me of God’s creative power, of God’s faithful and generous provision, of God’s majesty and grandeur—as apparently they do for the psalmist.  My first mountain experience was at a church camp.  Our youth group traveled all the way to Glorieta, New Mexico—for a week in a totally unfamiliar yet absolutely glorious setting.  I spent all of one afternoon’s free time sitting on a rock off one of the hiking paths—just drinking in the mountain vista and singing.

            1 Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, you are very great. Earlier this month, members and friends of this congregation received a letter from our Mission and Stewardship Committee.  They reminded us of signs of renewed vigor in this congregation.  A group of adults is joining together, learning to play the handbells while a group of children are learning to play handchimes—both groups wanting to add their praises to God in our worship.  Children as well as adults are actively engaged in worship leadership.  Signs of renewed vigor—Sunday school classes for children, adults and youth—there is a renewed interest in and commitment to Bible study.  Hinting at exciting opportunities for serving our community in 2013, the Mission and Stewardship team invites us to make a commitment supporting our mission next year.  Their letter reminds us God calls us to be stewards—thoughtful caretakers of all that God has given us.  Our response to God—is our stewardship.

            5 You set the earth on its foundations, so that it shall never be shaken. . . 24 O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. . . 27 These all look to you to give them their food in due season; . . .  33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.  Out of deep gratitude, we respond to God, generous creator. Because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,  God’s generosity stirs up a desire in us to imitate, to emulate God.  We want to be generous as well—generous in our response to God,

generous in our response to God’s creation, generous in our response to God’s creatures—including one another.     

            10 You make springs gush forth in the valleys; they flow between the hills, 11 giving drink to every wild animal; . . . 14 You cause the grass to grow for the cattle, and plants for people to use, to bring forth food from the earth, 15 and wine to gladden the human heart, oil to make the face shine, and bread to strengthen the human heart . . . 33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.  With trust, we respond to God—loving parent, faithful provider, constant nurturer.  We trust that if we are indeed listening to God’s guidance and following his plan for our lives, God will bless our efforts and continue to provide for our needs. 

            1 . . .O Lord my God, you are very great. You are clothed with honor and majesty, 2 wrapped in light as with a garment. You stretch out the heavens like a tent, 3 you set the beams of your chambers on the waters, you make the clouds your chariot, you ride on the wings of the wind, 4 you make the winds your messengers, fire and flame your ministers. 5 You set the earth on its foundations, so that it shall never be shaken . . .  7 At your rebuke [the waters] flee; at the sound of your thunder they take to flight.. . 24 . . .  the earth is full of your creatures. . . 28 . . . when you open your hand, they are filled with good things. 33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being.  With obedience, we respond to God, Almighty, creator of heaven and earth. With a long history of independence, it is counter-cultural for us Americans to be dependent or to consider ourselves subject to anyone or anything.  And yet, the Bible tells the story of God Almighty, to whom we owe everything.  We are called to be subject to God—to subordinate our wants and desires to God’s call for love and justice.  The Bible tells the story that God knows what is best for us, and when we live according to God’s commands, when we live into who God made us to be, we live full, abundant lives. So, we respond to our sovereign God with obedience. 

            Last Sunday, Hazel Gillette, chair of our Mission and Stewardship Committee, spoke about the Biblical standard of commitment—the tithe.  In the Old Testament, the tithe—one-tenth of our income—is the starting point for supporting the work of the community of faith.  In the New Testament, Jesus highlights generous giving—Zaccheus giving half of his possessions to the poor.  And in Acts, Luke records people of faith selling their property to provide for the needy in their community. Hazel talked about the ease and the difficulty in tithing.  She said, it’s easy because there is no complicated mathematical formula.  She reminded us—take our paycheck or our social security check and move the decimal point one place to the left, and that is our tithe.  It’s difficult because after we give to support God’s work in the world—after we give to meet others’ needs—we have less to for our own wants and desires.  And if our focus is on our own desires, then having less to fund them is indeed difficult.

            1 O Lord my God, you are very great. . . 13 From your lofty abode you water the mountains;  Mountains often speak to me of God’s creative power, of God’s faithful and generous provision, of God’s majesty and grandeur.  At the end of September, Kevin and I spent 4 days in Estes Park, CO.  It is the site of one of our favorite family vacations. 

Early on the first sunny day there, we returned to Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park.  About 15 years ago, we had hiked the 3.6 mile (round-trip) trail from Bear Lake to Emerald Lake—climbing almost 1000 feet. Somewhat older and heavier now, we wondered if we would be able to hike all the way to Emerald Lake on this visit.  We remembered the 2 other lakes along the way—Nymph Lake

 and Dream Lake—

and how we had enjoyed both the respites they offered as well as the sense of accomplishment we felt as we reached these intermediate goals so many years ago.  Stopping to rest when we were winded, drinking some water when we got thirsty, we found this hike to be less difficult and to take less time than we had remembered. 

Coming back down the trail from Emerald Lake, at Dream Lake, we noticed an alternate trail—to Lake Haiyaha—a trail we had not taken on our earlier visit. Checking our map, we saw it would be another climb of about 350 feet over about 0.8 mile one way.  We decided to give it a try. 

            Now, the 1^st part of the trail was very steep, and having already hiked up over 1.8 miles, I was tired.  We met a couple who were coming down and we asked them, “What’s the trail up ahead like?  Is the lake—once we arrive—worth this climb?”  They replied, “You’re traveling up the steepest part of the trail right now.  You have one more switchback that will climb up.  After that, the trail levels out and that gives you some respite.  It will descend some and then you’ll climb again, but not nearly as long or as steep as right now.  The lake is hidden, and if you climb over the boulders there, you’ll be surprised by its beauty.”  Hearing this encouragement—especially the part about the steep climb having an end, fairly soon—we continued.  As we rounded the switchback, we left the thick forest growth and experienced an amazing scene. 

Our eyes beheld glimpses of yellow aspens in the green mountainside, rocky peaks, a little snow at the top.  We weren’t looking in a magazine or coffee table book at a picture some professional photographer had taken.  We weren’t viewing a photo on the internet.  We were seeing—in person—God’s grandeur.  And we were experiencing it because of the commitment we had made.  We were experiencing this firsthand because we had given of ourselves—our energy, our time, our resources—we had given of ourselves to get there.  We stood at the switchback, drinking in the beauty, praising God for all of creation, and thanking God for the opportunity to pour ourselves into this hike.  We continued on.  Lake Haiyaha—our goal—was a beautiful, 

but I found the journey—huffing and puffing up the precipitous climb, carefully picking my way back down the steep trail, and looking out at the beautiful mountain vistas—to be more rewarding than reaching the goal.

Yes it cost us in time and energy, but we were so much the richer than if we had not tried.  We were rewarded, not just with glimpses, but with vistas of God’s grandeur.

            I believe giving generously is like Kevin and my lakes hike.  We set an ultimate goal—increase our giving until we are tithing or increase our giving beyond the tithe we already commit—like Kevin and I set our goal to reach Emerald Lake.  We celebrate our intermediate successes—this year we committed to increase our giving by 3% and we did it!—like Kevin and I celebrated and rested at Nymph Lake and Dream Lake.  Once we reach the goal, we remain open to other possibilities.  It was on the way back down that Kevin and I found the trail to the previously-unknown-to-us lake. 

            I believe giving generously is like our Lake Haiyaha hike.  It’s a steep climb at first—making do with what is left after we give rather than giving what’s left after we spend on ourselves.  Encouraged by those who already tithe—hearing their stories of how they experience God’s faithful provision—we can stick with our increased commitment—like Kevin and I staying with the steep climb after those hikers coming down encouraged us with their firsthand account of the trail to come.

 Just as Kevin and I were treated to real-life amazing vistas, I believe we are rewarded with intimate experiences of God’s grace, when we respond faithfully to God by committing our resources to his good work in the world.

            30 When you send forth your spirit, they are created; and you renew the face of the ground . . .  33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have being. Bless the Lord, O my soul. Praise the Lord!  I believe, as we commit our resources, our energy, our time, our passion, our very selves, to the God who generously creates us, the God who lovingly forms us, the God who faithfully renews us, I believe our lives become blessings—blessings to us and blessings to others.  May God’s Spirit continue to move among us.  Amen.

Mark 10: 17 – 31 "Grieving for the past . . . moving forward into the future"

            Yesterday afternoon I officiated at my 1^st wedding.  Now I love weddings—the promise of a long and happy shared life, the opportunity to celebrate with family and friends, and the beauty surrounding the ceremony.  But I do not envy B and D—nor do I envy any other newlywed couple—because I would not like to repeat the first year of marriage.  I found it to be the hardest year.  Every time I signed my name Mari Lyn Jones—instead of Mari Lyn Whisler—it was as if a pain shot through my heart.  Now, I loved Kevin—I still do.  I knew he was the one I wanted to spend my life with, the one I wanted to raise a family with, but in those first few months, I found I did not want to become Mari Lyn Jones.  I wanted to stay Mari Lyn Whisler.  Looking back, I realize that in this first year of marriage, I was grieving—grieving what I perceived to be the loss of my identity.  At some primitive fight or flight level, I was resisting the threat of change.

            Many years later, when Kevin and I made the decision I would attend seminary, we knew we would have to sell our home and move into student housing on campus.  There, we qualified for a 2-bedroom apartment—about 750 sq. feet.  Our house in RR was 1800 sq. ft.  As we began to prepare our house for sale, Kevin and I stood in our 4^th bedroom—the room we had made into a study with 8 full, free-standing bookshelves lining 3 of the walls—and our hearts ached.  Avid readers, we had at least 2 full shelves of fiction, classic literature, books we had read and re-re-read and wanted to re-read again.  We had a whole bookshelf of “churchy” books—devotionals, Bible studies, commentaries. We had 2 – 3 shelves of science and math books . . . and the list goes on.  We could not take all these books with us, nor could we store them all.  We could not take ½ of these books with us! Letting go of some of them was like parting with dear, old friends.  Oh, we found good homes for our favorite literature.  We offered the textbooks, teachers’ editions, and curriculum notes to newly-graduated, soon-to-be teachers.  And some books ended up at Half-Price book-store, which would hopefully find them a good home.  But we grieved the loss of those books—probably more than we grieved the loss of furniture and other household items we had collected during our 20 years in that house.

            “But the man was dismayed at this statement and went away saddened.”[1]  Other translations say the man was sorrowful, or he had a heavy heart, or he grieved.  Grieving—that’s what this man is doing in today’s text.  He comes to Jesus seeking eternal life, and he leaves Jesus grieving.  Jesus tells him to sell all that he owns, give the money to the poor, and then come join Jesus and his followers.  Mark says he went away grieving because he had great wealth—he had many possessions.  If he does not part with them, if he does not do what Jesus asks, he feels like he comes away empty-handed—without that eternal life he is seeking.  That’s certainly a reason for grieving.

            Mark says he went away grieving because he had great wealth.  In Greco-Roman society, a man of great wealth had possessions, power, and prestige.  If he does what Jesus is asking, if he gives away his wealth, he loses his prestige, his place in society—his identity; he loses his possessions—his physical comforts; and he loses his power—his financial and political security.  He thinks, if he does what Jesus is asking of him, he loses everything he knows.  And he faces a great unknown.  That is certainly a reason for grieving!

            Now we don’t know what happens after he leaves Jesus grieving.  We don’t know if he returns home and continues to live as before—keeping the commandments. “Teacher,” he responded, “I’ve kept all of these [commandments] since I was a boy.”[2]  We don’t know if he returns to prestige, possessions, and power—and from a new frame reference—begins to use them to help the poor and the powerless.  We don’t know if he sells all he has and returns to Jesus joining his group of followers—becoming part of the feeding, healing, teaching, and welcoming that signal the kingdom of God here and now.  We don’t know what happens after he leaves Jesus grieving.

            Regardless, I suspect he was changed by this encounter with Jesus.  It began with him approaching Jesus from a personal, individual perspective.  What must I do to secure my eternal life? Jesus reframes the perspective from the self-centered I and my to interpersonal—us and we.  First, Jesus names the 6 person-to-person relational commandments of the 10 commandments—(It’s verse 19, if you want to follow along with me.) to respect others’ lives, respect others’ marital relationships, respect others’ property, respect others’ character, respect others’ honor, and respect your parents. Then, Jesus invites him into the topsy-turvy of the kingdom of God. Instead of spending his wealth on his own desires and comfort, put it to work in meeting the basic needs of those without power, without prestige, and without possessions.  Lastly, Jesus invites the man into his own circle of followers—offering him an alternative family, a greater purpose, and a different home.  Jesus encourages the man to move from self-interest, self-importance, and self-serving to others-centered living.  And Jesus offers this in a progression of steps.

            I suspect the disciples, too, are changed by their observation of this encounter.  For Jesus clearly refutes the “common wisdom” of his day—that those with material possessions and wealth are the ones the ones who are blessed by God and therefore the ones who are righteous,.  Jesus implies that they carry a heavy burden—a burden of temptation.  Tempted to spend their wealth on themselves,tempted to parlay their prestige into fame, tempted to use their power for their own benefit and security.  “It will be very hard for the wealthy to enter God’s kingdom!” . . . It’s easier for a camel to squeeze through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter God’s kingdom.”[3] It’s hard to let go of prestige, power, and possession—to move from self-interest to other-serving living, and that is entering the kingdom of God.

            I suspect the disciples, are changed by their observation of this encounter.  Jesus affirms Peter’s realization that the disciples have already done what Jesus is asking the rich man to do.  Leaving home, work, and family, they have given up their possessions, their place in society, and whatever power they previously wielded in order to follow Jesus.  Trusting Jesus, they have walked away from the familiar and have embraced the unknown.  He promises them what he offered the rich man—family, work, and home—in abundance both now and in the time to come.  Jesus is realistic; being an agent in bringing about the kingdom of God—healing, feeding, welcoming—is not all fun and games.  But it is work filled with hope, for with God, all things are possible.   

            This church’s identity, possessions, and power—have changed over the years.  We are not the congregation we were when this church was chartered 145 years ago—with an emphasis on evangelism in a western town.  Nor are we the congregation that all the “power people in Paola” joined as in the 1960s.  We are more than the original 16 charter members but less than the 450 recorded in the 1950s. While we continue to worship, study, and fellowship together in this historic building, the number of programs and activities has changed.  Our voice—the voice of the church in general and the voice of this particular expression of the church—is not attended to as it once was in American culture or in Paola.  Like the man in today’s text, we grieve.  We grieve the perceived loss of identity, power, and prestige. 

            And Jesus offers us the same hopeful words he offers his disciples in today’s text.  “All things are possible for God.” [4]  He recasts our vision of the future of this church just as he recasts the man’s request for eternal life.  First, Jesus invites us to change our inward focus and to turn outward—let go of me and my, what I want, and begin to consider what others need.  Next Jesus calls us to use our resources for the well-being of others.  Look for the disenfranchised and speak up for them; meet the hungry with food, the poor with jobs, and the sick with healing; notice the invisible; and welcome the outsider.  In other words, Jesus invites us into the work of the kingdom of God.  Finally, Jesus encourages us to live and worship, to work and study, to play and fellowship with one another—to be family with each other.  Jesus invites us to move from grieving for who we once were into celebrating and embracing who God now calls us to be.

            “All things are possible for God.”[5] May we move forward, as one body, into the hopeful future where God is calling—the hopeful future in which we, as a welcoming community of faith, invite all people to discover God’s transforming love; the hopeful future in which we, working as agents of God’s good purposes, proclaim God’s good news with voice and with action.  With God’s help, the best days, weeks, months, and years of this church are yet to come!  Amen.

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[1] Mark 10: 22 (Common English Bible)

[2] Mark 10: 20 (Common English Bible)

[3] Mark 10: 23 – 25 (Common English Bible)

[4] Mark 10: 27 (Common English Bible)

[5] Mark 10:27 (Common English Bible)

Receiving the God’s Kingdom Like a Little Child Mark 10: 13 – 16

            In today’s text, Jesus tells his disciples, I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[1]  I wonder what it means  . . . to welcome God’s kingdom like a child.  The 1^st week of kindergarten, Mary Margaret’s class visited the school library, and she checked out Jenny’s First Party[2]. 

 (from http://www255.pair.com/rebooksb/12889kl.jpg )

It was an old early reader’s chapter book about a young cat who goes out on the town one evening.  Mary Margaret was (and still is) very much a cat person.  She loved that book.  We read it to her every night. Have you ever had that experience with your children or grandchildren?  Have you ever heard, “Read it again, Mommy.”  When her class returned to the library the next week,

Mary Margaret did not have Jenny’s First Party with her.  She had left it at home.  She did not want to check out another book.  She wanted us to continue to read it to her every single night.  But after a month, the school librarian insisted that Mary return the book.  “There are other children who want to read Jenny’s First Party,” she said.

            Repetition.  Mary wanted to hear the same beloved story, to see the same engaging pictures over and over. Recognizing this aspect of young learners, early childhood educators use repetition.  Our children here love songs with repetition—like Siyahamba—which we sang to bring in the Communion elements.   Could welcoming the kingdom of God like a child mean repeating—repeating the biblical story of God’s loving relationship with creation and with humans?  Could welcoming the kingdom of God like a child mean repeating the liturgical calendar—Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, and Pentecost each year?  Could it mean re-telling and re-living the story of God’s creating the world & entering into relationship with us, of God as Jesus living among us, dying and defeating death for us, of God as the Holy Spirit empowering the church to continue telling the story? Could repeating the beloved biblical story in our worship and study life—repeating it until it becomes one with us and we are one with it—could that be a way of welcoming the kingdom of God like a child?

         In today’s text, Jesus tells his disciples, I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[3] I wonder what it means to welcome, to receive the kingdom of God as a little child.  One of the yoga postures is called “laughing baby.”  On our backs, we bend our knees and reach our arms out to try to grab our toes.  Holding on to our toes, we rock from side to side.  I feel like a little baby when I practice this posture.  And I am reminded of watching babies—my own and others—discover their toes.   

            (from http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumblarge_545/1286276732S38XZc.jpg)

Babies, much more flexible than I or even my yoga teacher, can easily grab their toes,

look at them, feel them, pull them up to their mouths and taste them.  At that stage of development, babies spend a lot of time experiencing their toes—using all their senses. 

            Could receiving the kingdom of God like a little child mean being fascinated by God’s plan for the world—spending a lot of time checking out God’s good purposes for the world—discovering what it would look like, sound like, taste like, smell like, feel like? Could receiving the kingdom of God as a little child mean using all our senses to engage with one another in helping to remove barriers that prevent any one of us from discovering and experiencing God’s grace and God’s good purposes for God’s good world?

            I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[4] I wonder what it means to welcome, to receive the kingdom of God like a little child.  When I was 4 or 5 years old, I loved the water.  In the evenings, when it was less crowded, my Daddy would take us to the city pool. Although I loved to play and swim and splash in the shallow end of the pool—the very shallow end because back then we did not have water wings, and I did not want to be encumbered by a life jacket—back then, when I had to stay in the very shallow end where I could touch bottom, what I really wanted to do was go to the deep end and jump off the diving boards.  So, my Daddy taught me to swim . . .  and then I could go to the deep end. The low diving board was a snap. I was even diving off of it in no time.  Every time I climbed out of the pool and walked to the low diving board, I would eye that high diving board.  One evening, my Daddy said, “Go ahead and climb up that ladder.  You can do it.” I climbed the ladder.  Reaching the top of the ladder, I stepped out onto the high diving board.  I looked down at the concrete far below.  My Daddy calmly said, “Okay walk out to the end.  I’m down here waiting.”

( from  http://www.writerscafe.org/uploads/stories/8f9293279839a1e342177cae06772369.jpg)

I walked out to the end of the board and looked down that long way to the water where I saw my Daddy smiling and waving his arms, encouraging me to jump, calling, “I’m here.  I’ll catch you.” So I jumped.  Down, down, down I plummeted through the air.  Splash went the water, and I went down into it.  Then I felt Daddy’s arms in the water, pulling me up to the surface.  I popped up, water running down my face.  I wiped my eyes and looked at my Daddy who was grinning from ear to ear.  “You did great.  What did you think of it?”  I loved it.  “Can I jump again?”  Daddy said, “Sure!” 

            I wonder if receiving the kingdom of God means being wrapped in complete trust that God is here, waiting in the water, cheering us on, ready to pull us up if we start to go down.

            About 3 years ago, the girls and I decided to give Kevin a completely different gift for Christmas: no tie, no books, no videos, no CD’s, no clothes, no restaurant certificate, no gift card.  We decided to get Kevin something completely different—an iPhone.  It was a stretch—3 college students—they were in college and I was in seminary—buying an iPhone and committing to the more expensive monthly plan—for it included a data charge.  In all the years I have known him, I have never seen Kevin have so much fun with a gift.  After his initial response, “you spent too much on me,” he allowed himself to receive and to enjoy.  He played with the iPhone all Christmas day—interrupting us from other things to show us something new he could do with it.  For the girls and me, it was the epitome of giving with trust—trust that together, pooling our resources, we could give this gift.  It was the epitome of  giving with commitment—paying that monthly fee. And it was the epitome of receiving joy out of giving—seeing the joy and wonder our trust and commitment was bringing Kevin.  He was not a child, but he received and enjoyed that gift like a child.

            I wonder if welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means accepting my place in God’s rule as God’s gift of grace.  I wonder if it means recognizing all I have—my physical resources—health; my financial resources—job, money, investments, security; my intellectual resources—talents and skills; recognizing that all I have comes from God.  I wonder if welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means giving back—from my pool of physical, financial, and intellectual resources—giving back to share God’s love, to share God’s grace, to share God’s justice with others.  I wonder if welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means looking at life from a different perspective—seeing the abundance instead of scarcity, opening up—including, instead of closing down—excluding, being ready to make a commitment and trusting God will see it through.   

            I wonder if welcoming the kingdom of God like a child means seeing how God can use me to make a difference in the lives of others. Could it mean using all our senses to engage with one another in helping to bring about God’s justice here and now? Could it mean sharing the story of God’s active love throughout history with others—some of whom may know the story and hunger for repetition, some of whom do not know the story at all? Could it mean giving generously because I have been gifted generously? Could it mean having complete trust that God will lead us, will provide for us, will use us for God’s good in the world? 

            In our text today, Jesus says “Allow the children to come to me. Don’t forbid them, because God’s kingdom belongs to people like these children.”[5] It just so happens that our Christian Education Committee—supported by the Session—is planning to make a difference in the lives of area children.  We want to bring the Heartland Camp experience to children in this community who would not otherwise have such an opportunity. We want to be a site for Heartland’s Traveling Day Camp—to offer our resources—our building, our welcoming, our love for Jesus, our energy, our passion—to share God’s love with  children living around here.  With Heartland Camp staff, we want to share Bible stories, engage in fun activities, and build relationships with children in this community. We want to be yeast in the bread for this town. This is one of the dreams your commitment to the mission of this church will support in 2013. 

             Jesus says, “I assure you that whoever doesn’t welcome God’s kingdom like a child will never enter it.[6] Like a little child—repeating God’s story of love, opening ourselves to wonder and awe, using all our senses, generously giving because we have been gifted generously, with complete trust in the One who created us and who continues to re-create us—like a little child, let us receive, let us welcome, let us be agents of God’s kingdom here on earth, here in Kansas, here in Miami county, here in Paola.  Amen.

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[1] Mark 10: 15 (Common English Bible)

[2] Jenny’s First Party by Esther Averill

[3] Mark 10: 15 (Common English Bible)

[4] Mark 10: 15 (Common English Bible)

[5] Mark 10: 14 (Common English Bible)

[6] Mark 10: 15 (Common English Bible)