"Showdown on Mt. Carmel" 1 Kings 18: 1b, 17 – 39

      Will Kane, longtime sheriff, walks out into the dry, dusty, deserted street—ready to face the recently returned outlaw, Frank Miller and his gang.  Sheriff Kane faces the bad guys alone at high noon—while the townspeople hide behind their doors.  John McLane, a New York City detective visiting his estranged wife in Los Angeles at Christmas, takes on a gang of terrorists who have seized a high-rise.  Because the others in the building are all hostages, McLane faces the bad guys alone—ready to die hard. 

            Like the movies “High Noon” and “Die Hard,” today’s text shows one man standing up to evil against all odds. Three years into the drought, Elijah, the one remaining prophet of the Lord God of Israel, challenges the Israelite people.  “How long will you hobble back and forth between the Canaanite gods of rain and fertility and the Lord your God of Israel?  How long will you hedge your bets on who will provide for you?  How long will you hedge your bets on whom you will serve?  How long will you wait to decide whom you can trust? What’s keeping you from making your decision?  Do you need a sign?”

            Elijah, the one remaining prophet of the Lord God of Israel, challenges the 450 prophets of Baal to a showdown.  The setting—high atop Mt. Carmel.  In this corner—the prophets of Baal and in this corner—Elijah.  The rules of engagement—the prophets will prepare sacrifices to their gods and wait for the one true god to light his sacrifice with fire.  The odds are in favor of the Canaanite gods.  After all, Baal was known as the god of the sky and storms—think lightning.  The odds are in favor of Baal.  Since his priests go first, if fire consumes their sacrifice, Elijah—representing the Lord God of Israel—won’t even get his turn.  Elijah challenges the prophets of Baal to a showdown—and the winner gets the people—their hearts and their loyalties.  Confident of the outcome, Elijah thunders, “Are you ready to rumble?”

            Dividing into teams, the prophets of Baal quickly prepare their altar and the bull sacrifice.  Then, they put on a show the likes of which the fence-sitting Israelites have never before seen.  Whipping themselves into a frenzy—egged on to some degree by the taunts and jeers of Elijah—the prophets of Baal offer a dizzying sensual display of sights, sounds, and smells.  But there is no sound, no answer, no response whatsoever from their god—Baal.  

            So, now it’s Elijah’s turn.  Quietly, thoughtfully, he begins his sacrificial preparations.  Rebuilding the altar with 12 stones, Elijah’s actions remind the Israelites of the 12 tribes of their ancestors.  Elijah’s actions reminds them how those 12 tribes were freed from slavery by the Lord their God. Pouring 12 jars—we’re talking huge jars—full of water, Elijah symbolizes the power of the Lord God who led their ancestors through the waters of the Red Sea.  Silently, symbolically, sacramentally, Elijah prepares the sacrifice.  And when he quietly calls upon the Lord God of Israel, fire consumes not only his soaking wet sacrifice but also the wood and stones on which it lay.  The fire even consumes all the water pooled in the trenches around the altar.  The people have their sign, and they respond, “The Lord is the real God!  The Lord is the real God!”[1]

            Why was it so important for the people to choose which god to serve?  Up to that time, the Israelites had encountered and lived within 3 different understandings of God— and 3 different systems of worship. First—the Pharaoh system. Its hallmark was power above all else. Its motto:  Might makes right.  In Egypt, the Israelites were nothing more than a commodity to be used and to be used up by the god, Pharaoh.  Second—the Lord God of Israel system.  Leading the people out of Egypt, the Lord changed their identity from Pharaoh’s slaves to God’s treasured people.  Desiring a loving relationship with the people, the Lord gave them the law.  Following it, they would learn to live in relationship with the Lord their God and to live in relationship with one another. Community is the hallmark of this system. Caring for one other is the motto.  Third—the system of Baal.  It was a quid pro quo system.  If we worship Baal, then he will send rain for our crops.  The motto for the Baal system:  “If you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” “I’ll do something for you only if you can do something for me.”  Because worshiping and living within either the Baal or the Pharaoh system actually tears down community, the Lord God of Israel demands complete loyalty from his people.  Moses had commanded the people, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your mind, and with all your strength[2].  But in 1 Kings, we find the people hedging their bets—

not willing to give all their loyalty to God, not willing to put all their trust in God, not willing to trust each other.

            Do you know about hedging bets?  I do.  As I was applying to the For Such a Time as This program in the spring of 2011, I also applied for a year-long chaplaincy residency in Austin.  I was accepted into it before I knew my name had been given to this presbytery.  The residency would have provided me with good pastoral experience and training—meeting the spiritual needs of people in times of crisis.  And it would have made it possible to remain in Austin another year—among our emotional and spiritual support group. The residency would not begin until the end of August 2011.  Why not hedge my bets?  Why not hold on to my chaplaincy slot?  After I interviewed in Heartland presbytery and your Pastor Nominating Committee and your Session extended their parts of what would become the call here in mid-June 2011, I held onto the residency spot. Even though I was certain God was calling me here—to this church—for such a time as this—I hedged my bets.  Then, I realized, hedging my bets was actually showing a lack of trust in God’s plan, a lack of trust in God’s timing— a lack of trust in God.  So, before I came here in mid-July to meet you and preach my candidate sermon, I withdrew my name from the residency program.  I understand the people’s desire to hedge their bets . . . especially in the midst of drought.

            In our droughts—real or imagined—this text challenges us to choose how we will serve God.  Will we follow the Pharaoh system, the Baal system, or the system of the Lord our God?  This is important because it determines how we are the church.  Will we use the pharaoh model?  Will we let the powerful make all the decisions—ceding our own power to the strongest, the loudest, the most insistent? Will we use the Baal model? Will we follow those who claim if you do things my way, then I’ll support the mission and ministry of this church?  Will we in turn make the same kind of ultimatum?  Or is the Lord God our model?  Will we let go of our personal desires so that the needs of the community are met?  Will building relationships, caring for the powerless, and nurturing the entire group be our focus?

            This week I watched 2 people choose the system under which they will serve—the model they will use.  Wednesday, B, L and I drove to an assisted living facility in D, KS to visit E.  E is a long-time member of this church.  Her husband of 57 years, died 2 months ago—right after they moved from their home. When I said I am going to D,KS, B and L volunteered to come with me. During our visit, I watched as they responded to the underlying fear and grief in E’s conversation.  I listened as they shared words of comfort and words of wisdom—words from their own experiences of losing their husbands. I watched and listened as they ministered to E.  There were no power plays nor was there any “you scratch my back and then I’ll scratch yours” in E’s room.  Instead there was unlimited compassion and total attentiveness to the concerns weighing E down.  For B and L, it was all about community.  They chose to be the church using the Lord our God system.

            Like the people in today’s text, we are asked to make a choice. Are we willing to serve the Lord our God—who calls us out of what I want for me and into what is best for the entire community?  Are we willing to serve the Lord our God—who invites us to take off the blinders that focus us inward, so that we can see the needs all around us?  Are we willing to serve the Lord our God—who calls us, not to cede our power to others with their own personal agendas but to pool our power together to build up the community? 

           Are we willing to serve the Lord our God—who expects each of us to shoulder the load of the mission and ministry of this church together.  Are we willing to serve the Lord our God—who expects for each of us to give to support the financial, physical, spiritual, and pastoral needs of this congregation? Unlike the townspeople in “High Noon,” we are called out into the streets to save our community.  Unlike the hostages in “Die Hard,” we are free to choose and to serve.  Are we willing to proclaim “The Lord is the real God!” Are we willing to trust God to take care of us now and in the future?  Are we willing to trust in our faith community to lift us up?

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[1] 1 Kings 18: 39 (Common English Bible)

[2] Deuteronomy 6:5 (Jesus refers to this in Matthew 22:37, Mark 12: 30, and Luke 10:27)

“There is Enough” 1 Kings 17: 1, 7b, 8 – 16

           After earning his master’s degree, in the fall of 1983, Kevin began his 1^st fulltime college teaching job—at Midwestern State University in Wichita Falls, TX.  By January of 1984, he realized, that despite what the recruiter there had said, he would have to earn his doctorate in order to secure a tenure-track position.  So Kevin applied for UT’s doctoral program, and I applied for a teaching job with school districts in Austin. Planning a 3-month summer sabbatical, our former Austin Presbyterian pastor asked us to house-sit.  So, at the end of May 1984, with a temporary place to live and a spot in the doctoral program, we moved back to Austin.  Facing a drought—teaching jobs there had dried up—we wondered how will we survive?

            Elijah faces a drought in today’s text.  There is a power struggle in Israel—a power struggle between the Lord God of Israel and Baal, the Canaanite god of rain. Through the prophet Elijah, the Lord God of Israel promises no rain, no fog, no dew, no moisture.  In drought, Baal will be proved powerless.   Elijah faces the drought, and he wonders how will he survive.  First God sends him back into the wilderness, where he drinks from the waters of Cherith Brook and is fed by ravens.  But the Lord God will allow no rain, no fog, no dew, no moisture.  The drought continues, and Cherith Brook dries up.  Sitting by the now dry creek bed, waiting on ravens that no longer come, Elijah wonders how will he survive. 

            God promises Elijah water, food, and shelter in the town of Zarephath. God sends Elijah the loner into community.  God sends Elijah the backwoods man, to town.  God sends Elijah the bachelor, to a widow.  Now in the ancient near east, widows were among the poorest of people. They could barely scrape out a living in the best of times.  Imagine their prospects in the midst of drought.  No wonder Elijah hung around that dry creek bed a few extra days. 

            Unkempt and uncomfortable, Elijah waits at the town well until a woman approaches.  He tells her he is thirsty.  Drawing from the well, she offers him not only a cup of water but also her hospitality.  For she turns away from her task—collecting a just little firewood.  She puts away her own concerns—preparing what she expects to be her last meal.  She offers her hospitality as she attends to the need of this stranger.  He tells her he is hungry.  She replies she has only a handful of flour and a small amount of oil with which she will bake one last small loaf of bread for her son and herself—and then they will wait to die.  Perhaps Elijah put his head in his hands for a brief moment, wondering, “What is God thinking?” This widow with “such scarce means is to be instrumental in God’s plan to provide for”[1] me?  Summoning his faith, Elijah proclaims, “Don’t be afraid.  Share that loaf with me and by the word of the Lord my God, neither the oil nor the flour will run out until God sends the rain again.”  “And the widow went and did what Elijah said.”  Sure enough, she and her son and Elijah had enough to eat for the next days, weeks, months, and years of drought.   

            The Elijah stories we will encounter this summer depict God’s power over the powerful.  They show God’s provision for and protection of the powerless.  In today’s scripture, God provides—for Elijah and the widow and her son in the midst of drought. The storyteller does not tell us how God provided—Was it through some supernatural miracle?  Each night as the widow’s household slept, did an invisible spigot open wide and pour oil into the bottle while an invisible scoop poured grain into the jar?  The storyteller does not tell us how God provided—Did Elijah’s presence give the woman confidence to go out into the fields and glean grain to bring home each night? The storyteller does not tell us how God provided—with a man of God in the community, were the widow’s neighbors encouraged to share their grain and oil with them? 

            The storyteller does not tell us how God provided because how is not important.

That God provided is important.  That God provided is important.  Where the logical conclusion was “there is not enough,” God provided an experience—a physical, bodily experience—of There is enough. There was enough for each day’s meal  . . . throughout the 3 ½ year drought.  

            Unlike the widow in today’s scripture—powerless and all but shut out in the ancient Near Eastern economy, in May of 1984, Kevin and I—who were young, healthy, energetic, intelligent, skilled, and degreed—had economic prospects.  Nevertheless, in the drought of Austin teaching jobs, we, like the widow and Elijah, were faced with scarcity—wondering how will we survive?  Like Elijah, we followed where God led.  Like the widow, we took a chance with our remaining resources.  And like Elijah, the widow, and her son, Kevin and I experienced the physical reality of God’s abundant provision.  By the end of June, I was hired by Round Rock ISD—a district near Austin. By the end of August, Kevin began a teaching assistantship at UT.   We didn’t have to wait 3 ½  years for the job drought to end.  Nevertheless, we experienced God’s abundant provision in what we had expected to be long-term scarcity.

            I wonder what we, this congregation, can glean from this Elijah story.  Like the widow, are we ready to cook our last meal and sit down and wait to die because our 2013 budget currently projects a deficit?  As we gather the firewood for our last meal, will we shut our eyes and ears to the voices of need around us?  Will we close our hands into tight fists to hold on to what is left—our $120,000 savings?  Will we turn inward, succumbing to the myth of scarcity, eat our last meal and wait to die?  Or will we be attentive to the voices of need around us?  Will we turn outward and, with God’s grace and power, face those in need with hospitality? 

            Is it possible that this Elijah story—like the story of God providing manna in the wilderness—for all the wandering Hebrews for 40 years—Is it possible that this Elijah story—like the story of Jesus feeding the 5000 people with 5 loaves of bread and 2 fishes—is it possible that this Elijah story exposes the lie that God is not powerful enough?

            Seven months ago, when the Christian Education Committee first explored the possibility of partnering with Heartland Camps to bring a day camp here to our site this summer, a small group of voices proclaimed, “We can’t do that.  There is not enough.”  We don’t have enough children to attend.  It’s not just for our children.  It’s for children in this community.  Here is our opportunity to show hospitality. “We can’t do that.  There is not enough.”  We won’t have enough volunteers.  We now have 10 volunteers for our day camp in 1 week. “We can’t do that.  There is not enough.”  We don’t have enough money to fund the camp. Campers are paying some of the costs.  Donations have come from PW and from individuals both within and outside this congregation.  The camp is funded, and we did not have to touch any of our savings.  The fact is—There is enough.  When we attend to God’s work—sharing the good news of God’s love—there will always be enough.

            The enough may come from special gifts.  The enough may come from everyone in the congregation sharing proportionately of our resources—as in the Stone Soup story I read to our children earlier.  How God provides the enough is not important.  That God provides the enough is important. 

            When we hear voices proclaiming a drought of finances, a drought of membership, a drought of energy, a drought of commitment, when we hear voices proclaiming drought, may we hold fast to the truth in today’s scripture.  The Lord our God is more powerful than any drought—real or imagined.  The Lord our God will see us through any drought—real or imagined.  When we attend to God’s work, the Lord our God will provide abundantly amidst the drought.  For with the Lord our God, there is always more than enough.

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[1] Choon-Leong Seow, “The First and Second Books of the Kings,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible:  a Commentary in Twelve Volumes.  Vol. III.  Nashville:  Abingdon Press, 1999, p. 128.

What Does the Doctrine of Trinity Say About Us?---John 16: 12 – 15

            In today’s scripture, we hear Jesus talking about the Spirit and the Father.  God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit—today’s text centers on the Trinity. What references to the Trinity have you seen or heard so far in our worship today? 

            Call to Worship—“Holy Trinity, 1 God in 3 persons,   creator, Jesus, Spirit            

            Opening hymn “Holy Holy Holy . . .  God in three persons blessed Trinity,”

            Prayer of confession started with Triune God,                                    

            Gloria Patri  “Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost”

            Time with the Children—ways 3 can relate to one another 

Even after the sermon, if you listen and look, you should find more Trinitarian references in today’s worship.

            Today is Trinity Sunday, a day when we celebrate the Doctrine of the Trinity.  This doctrine helps us try to grasp the “Biblical—Christian understanding of who God is, how and where God is at work in the world,”[1] what God is like, and especially:  what that means for us human beings.

            Who God is:    We believe the Trinitarian God is not just our God but is the God who is over and for and with all people, of all religions (or no religion) even before they know this God.[2]

            How and where God is at work in the world:  In the beginning, God created the universe and all that is in it. Throughout history, as humans have engaged in acts that devastate our world, that harm other creatures, or that hurt one another, God has worked to reconcile humans with God and with one another.  God continues to work in the world to bring about God’s good purposes by transforming lives and systems.  Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer are words that speak to God’s work in the world.

            What God is like:   God is unselfish.  In today’s text, we hear that God the Father gives all that is his to Jesus—God the Son.  And we learn that Jesus shares all that is his with God the Holy Spirit.  The Spirit, in turn, glorifies the Son.

            The words we usually hear to name the Trinity—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—describe relationship among the persons of God.  It is not a hierarchical relationship—with one above another.  God the Father is not superior to God the Son or God the Holy Spirit.  Communication does not occur only between the Father and the Son or between the Son and the Spirit.  The relationship among the persons of the Triune God is not even a semi-hierarchical relationship (like our triangle example with the children) with one lording it over the other two.   Instead the relationship is one of equality—they’re on the same level, mutuality—they’re working together, and unity—they have the same goal.  There is a Greek word to describe this relationship—perichoresis. Peri, like perimeter, means around.  Choresis means dancing (like choreography).  “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are like 3 dancers holding hands, dancing around together in harmonious, joyful freedom.”[3]

            Dancing around—constant movement so that our attention is drawn to the oneness of the dance itself.  Three dancers moving—but not moving individually, separately, alone—moving together so that it is the inter-personal movements, the inter-personal relationships that make up the three-ness.  Perichoresis depicts the Triune God as community. 

            The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are what they are only in relationship with one another.  The work of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is focused on creation—formation, redemption, and renewal of creation.  The driving power of this work is love.

            So what?  Where do we fit into this understanding of the Triune God? What does it mean for us? <pause>  If, in God’s deepest inner being, God is community-seeking, then that is what God is in relation to us as well[4] —seeking us out.  If God’s work is driven by love, then God does not want to dominate and control us but to be God-with-us (Emmanuel) and God-for-us (powerful Spirit).  

            We are created in the image of God. If God’s nature is fully realized in community, then our human nature is fully realized when we seek out others—living and working for the good of the community rather than for our individual gain.  If there is no hierarchy in the divine community—no superior and inferior—then our community of faith should also reflect equality.  Our community should welcome all—regardless of age, gender, economic, social, or sexual differences.  If there is no hierarchy—but instead there is mutuality in the divine community, then our community should empower everyone—insiders and outsiders, old-timers and newcomers, old and young.  If God exercises divine power to invite us into God’s creative, renewing, reconciling work in the world; then we should use our power not to dominate, manipulate or control others.  Instead we should use our power to lift up and to liberate, then to invite others into God’s work in the world.  

            Equality, mutuality, unity are revealed in the Perichoresis—the dance of the Trinity.

            Two weeks ago, I spent the afternoon and evening in Ottawa, watching the Paola High School Girls’ softball team play in the regional tournament. It was my 1^st PHS softball game.  Every time our team was at bat, I noticed one of the girls pay special attention to her teammates who entered the batter’s box with less confidence than the others.  “This one’s yours” she called out.  “You can do it.”  As she cheered her teammates on, I noticed the batter stand a little taller, plant her feet a little surer, practice swing a little harder, eye those pitches a little keener.  I thought, “I want to be on a team like this.”   

            When our girls were in the field and time was called, they all came together in the infield—it wasn’t just the pitcher and catcher or the pitcher and bases.  They all came together.  No one was left out.  “I thought, I want to be on a team like this.”

            I watched batters hit the ball down the first base line so the 3^rd base runner could score.  I watched outfielders running and heard clear and loud “I got its” to catch the fly-balls. I saw no grand-standing and no one-upmanship. They were a team—working together.  And I thought, “I want to be on a team like this.”

            Near the end of the game, it hit me that even though I was sitting right next to the dugout, I had heard no grumbling against the umpires,

no catty chatter about the girls on the other team, nothing negative. I realized this team does not need to tear anyone else down in order to build themselves up.  And I thought, “I want to be on a team like this.” 

            We ended up at Dairy Queen after the game.  When we walked in, families from the other team were waiting on their food.  In a few minutes, our team arrived.  Our coach walked over to the parents of the opposing team and said, “ Your girls played really well tonight.  They’ve had a good season.”  Now we won the regional tournament, but he made it a point to walk over and talk with the parents of the other team.  He made it a point to say something encouraging, positive, and authentic—to someone on the outside.  And I thought to myself, “I want to be on a team like this.” 

            Equality, mutuality, unity—I saw it that Tuesday night.  The dance of the Triune God was the dance of the girls’ softball team.  The dance of the Triune God can be the dance of this congregation, too.  How shall we live out equality, mutuality, and unity? 

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[1] Shirley C. Guthrie, Jr.  Christian Doctrine. revised edition.  Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 1994, p. 71.

[2] Guthrie, p. 73.

[3] Guthrie, p. 93.

[4] Guthrie, p. 93.

Pentecost Story---selections from Acts 2: 1 - 41

Would all the children please join me at the front?

            Today is Pentecost—a special church holiday/holy day.  We decorate our church with the colors and symbols of Pentecost.  What color do you think is the color of Pentecost? (red)  What symbols do you think represent Pentecost?  (dove—At the beginning of his ministry, when Jesus was baptized, the Holy Spirit descended from heaven like a dove and landed on him.  So the dove represents the Holy Spirit.)   Flames of fire—(our scripture today gives us a clue about why fire or flames might represent the Holy Spirit.)  So red—the color of power and fire—is the color of Pentecost, and symbols that represent the Holy Spirit are the symbols of Pentecost.

            What is Pentecost? I’m asking for your help (and adults’ help) in retelling the story of Pentecost.  Jesus’ followers had stayed in Jerusalem after his death and resurrection.  Each morning, before going about their regular, daily activities, they met for prayer and worship.  This day—the day of Pentecost—was a special day. For during their morning worship, a sound like rushing wind filled the room they were meeting in.  Can you make a sound—like rushing wind—that will fill this room we’re meeting in? Let’s invite the grownups to do this with us.  On the count of 3, let’s all make a sound—like rushing wind—that fills this room.  1, 2, 3:  whoosh! On this morning, Jesus’ followers heard a sound—so loud that it filled the room.  I’ll bet they were startled.  Then, what looked like individual flames of fire started to rest on each one of them. (Take the red dowel things and flicker on each child.)  It was almost as if fire was licking each person there. Will you take these—each of you go to different rows and flicker these fiery licking tongues on the adults until each one has been touched by a flaming flaps?  I’ll bet Jesus’ followers were a little afraid at this point.  Do you remember what happened next?  They began to speak—talking with one another about Jesus and their experiences with him.  Frankly, that was a pretty big deal because ever since Jesus’ death—even during his resurrection appearances—these followers had been timid and shy about revealing their relationship with him.  But not on this day.  On this day, they spill out of the house where they are meeting and into the busy Jerusalem street outside—talking about Jesus.

            Now Jerusalem was a big city—a place where people from all over the world had come to live.  They had come from Egypt and Rome, Spain and France and many other places.  Many of them could get by using the common language—here the common language is English—but they were more comfortable speaking and listening in their own languages—Arabic, Latin, Spanish, French.  When Jesus’ followers spilled out of their meeting room and onto the streets of Jerusalem—talking about Jesus, they were speaking in Arabic, Latin, Spanish, and French.  And on this day, Jesus’ followers are proclaiming, “Jesus is Lord.  He is risen from the dead.  Alleluia!” Let’s all say “Jesus is Lord.  He is risen from the dead. Alleluia.” 

             On this day, Jesus’ followers are proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ—not just in one common language, but in all the different languages of the people living in Jerusalem. It was a miracle!  They were speaking up about Jesus and they were speaking in languages they had not studied.           

            A huge crowd gathered there in the street—a crowd drawn by all the noise and commotion.  Peter stands and speaks to the crowd—like Martin Luther King, Jr. standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial, speaking to the crowds in August 1963 or like Katie Perry addressing a crowd at her concerts—well, not that flashy.  Peter stands up and tells the crowd “You are seeing God’s Holy Spirit pouring out on all peoples.” Addressing the crowd, Peter shares the mighty works of God through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.  He proclaims Jesus is Lord.  Not Caesar—Jesus is Lord.  Not money, not power, not security—Jesus is Lord.  Not popularity or beauty—Jesus is Lord.  And the people in the crowd respond, “What must we do?”  Moved by the same Holy Spirit who empowers Peter and Jesus’ other followers to speak, the crowd listens and responds.  Moved by the Holy Spirit, the crowd responds with a willingness to change their hearts and lives.  The crowd responds—ready to be baptized and to join the community of Jesus’ followers.  The crowd responds—ready to begin the life-long journey of becoming Jesus’ disciples. 

            Who are the characters in this Pentecost story?  Peter and the other Jesus followers;  the crowd who listens and responds; and the Holy Spirit—who is the main character.  It was the Holy Spirit filling that room with sound.  It was the Holy Spirit alighting on each person like an individual flame of fire.  When we were flickering our flames of fiery crepe paper on each person, I noticed some folks shrinking back.  Were you afraid of the Holy Spirit?  The Holy Spirit is God, and we know God wants only the best for us.  God provides for us and protects us.  Surely we need not fear the Holy Spirit. In the beginning, through the Holy Spirit, God breathed form and life into creation. The Holy Spirit is the one whom Jesus promised would walk beside his disciples in his absence.  Surely we need not fear the Holy Spirit. 

            But . . . the Holy Spirit is associated with animation, rejuvenation, and transformation.  So, if you’re one who prefers to stand still, to plant your feet in one place, to plop your bottom down on one seat, to put your mind and emotions on hold—then maybe you should be a little afraid.  Because the Holy Spirit will blow you where she chooses to blow you.  We do not control the Holy Spirit.  Letting go, being flexible, making room for change—these are the strategies for enjoying the presence and power of the Holy Spirit.

            Today is Pentecost, a special church holiday/holy day—when we celebrate the Holy Spirit filling the community of Christ’s followers with the courage to speak up, to proclaim Jesus the Christ.  Today is Pentecost—when we celebrate the Holy Spirit filling the community of faith with new followers.  Today is Pentecost—the church’s birthday—the day the Holy Spirit breathed life into the church—giving voice to proclaim the good news of Jesus the Christ.    

The Next Words of Christ: "Go and Make Disciples" Matthew 28: 16 - 20

              On this last Sunday of the Easter season, as we end our series examining post-resurrection appearances, we consider an account from the Gospel According to Matthew for the first time. Today’s text opens with the disciples no longer in Jerusalem—the center of religious power and activity—but instead back in Galilee—where Jesus began his ministry.  The disciples have come to the mountain—perhaps the very mountain where Jesus preached his Sermon on the Mount. It is just the 11 disciples here—not the larger group of Jesus’ followers.  It is here that they encounter the risen Christ for the 1^st and last time in Matthew’s gospel.  Just as the women who went to the tomb early Easter morning worshiped the risen Jesus when they first saw him, so too do the disciples worship the risen Jesus here on the mountain. Yet, some of them are hesitant—disoriented and overwhelmed by seeing this one they knew was dead, by experiencing this one they thought was gone.  Coming near to them, Jesus bridges the gap forged between them when they abandoned him and left him to face the cross alone. Speaking to them, he reconciles and restores their broken relationship.  Claiming all authority in heaven and on earth, Jesus commissions his disciples to disciple others—all others—   men and women, young and old, people from cities and country folk, other Jews and Gentiles—all others.  With a final promise of his continued presence—day by day by day—throughout their lives and even to the end of the ages, Jesus commissions his disciples for their life’s work—discipling others. 

            “Go and make disciples”[1]—discipling others seems to be twofold—baptizing and teaching.  From the order Matthew employs, baptizing comes first.  The early church used baptism to mark the end of a year of instruction for converts and the beginning of full participation in the faith community, but in Matthew’s gospel, baptism comes first.  In our practice, it certainly comes first for those who are baptized as infants—those whose parents claim the promise of God’s grace for their children before they’re old enough to claim it for themselves.  At every baptism—whether baptizing an infant, child, youth, or adult—at every baptism, we Presbyterians promise to nurture the person being baptized, to help them grow in their faith.  We promise to guide them into full and meaningful participation in the faith community. As a sacrament, baptism is a means of grace—drawing us closer to Christ. Through the visible sign of water—cleansing water, life-giving water, renewing water—we are reminded of the invisible grace—God claiming us as one of God’s own people, Jesus claiming us as brother or sister, and the Holy Spirit helping us to live out this new identity.  The vow we—the congregation— make at every baptism is to teach our faith.

            Go and make disciples:  Discipling is twofold—baptizing and teaching.  Good teachers are life-long learners—seeking to grow in their own knowledge and skills and in the case of teaching the faith, to grow in their own faith.  So, discipling is a life-long process.  I see that here in our mid-week Bible study.  None of the group—Janis, Greta, Harold, Ken, Colleen, Hazel, Jim, and Marlene—are new to the faith.  All of them have been reading and studying the Bible for years. Yet they still come together each Wednesday morning eager to learn—to learn more about the context, the authors, and the purposes of the pieces of literature within the Bible, eager to examine the biblical themes  of love and grace, covenant and redemption, justice and mercy—themes that reveal God to us, and eager to learn more from one another.  Weekly, this group encourages me in the continuing learning faith development process.  As we develop in our faith, as we go through different stages in our life, as we mature, we make new connections with the Bible, we see new ways the Word of God can teach us and help us live our lives. 

            Good teachers not only tell, but they also show their students—as the children and I discussed earlier today.  Good learners not only listen, but they also practice.  I have the good fortune to be nearby during Gail’s piano lessons.  Some of the time she is talking to the students—telling them how to play the pieces.  But most of the time the student is actually playing, and Gail is guiding their practice.  Often I hear her reminding the student to continue practice at home. And Gail—accomplished as she is—continues to practice herself.  She practices for each worship service.  I’ve visited Karl Schmidt’s classroom.  While he has a board for writing chemical formulas and a projector to list properties of elements, he also has beakers and burners for the students to physically try out the concepts they are learning.  Karl’s students not only read and listen and watch, they also do.  Annie Kessler earned a soccer scholarship to college—not because she studied the game of soccer and played really well one time, but because she practiced the moves and played the game over and over and over again—because she continues to study and practice. 

            We study our faith through examining the biblical story, and we practice our faith—daily.  We offer a kind word to the harried store clerk—we engage.  We invite the new folks in the neighborhood into our home for a meal—we welcome.  We share lunch and conversation with our co-workers—we care. We bring food for the PACA food bank.  We feed.  We visit people who are isolated from others.  We connect.  Our youth group did that last Sunday—leading worship at Country Club Estates and Vintage Park.  At Country Club Estates one woman said, “Thank you for bringing young people and men.”  After worship at Vintage Park, we visited Genia Wilson in her room. Showing love for others—practicing—we grow in our faith.  

            Go and make disciples of all peoples.  It seems a little overwhelming, doesn’t it?  Maybe that’s how the disciples felt—overwhelmed.  Maybe it’s how Jesus felt, too.  After all, there he was “on an unnamed mountain in backwater Galilee with a congregation of eleven, down from twelve the week before, and even some of them are doubtful and not so sure why they have come to worship this day.”[2]  A small group, wondering why they’re there, hesitant to step out into the unfamiliar, doubtful they can even make a difference—does that sound familiar? Can you imagine their initial responses?  Jesus always did the teaching—not us.  Where do we start?  What exactly do we do?  Does that sound familiar?

            As underwhelming as his group may appear and as overwhelming as the task may have seemed, according to Matthew, Jesus claims God’s authority.  He commissions his disciples to invite others into the community he has been forming these last 3 years. And look at what has happened in the intervening 2100 years.  Christ’s community of disciples has grown in number and spread out across the world.  Generation after generation of new learners have joined those already in the community—other learners at different stages of faith development.  Jesus commissions us—yes, us, as inadequate as we might feel—to go and make disciples—to invite others into our community of faith.  Jesus commissions us to show others what living a life of faith looks like.  It’s awkward at first, as we practice, we become more comfortable inviting, sharing, teaching. Recognizing the enormity of this invitation, we rely, not on ourselves but on the power of the God who sent his Son to disciple the first learners, and on the continued presence of Jesus the Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. 

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[1] Matthew 28: 19

[2] Thomas G. Long. “Matthew 28: 16 – 20:  Homiletical Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word, Year A. Volume 3.  Edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor.  Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2011, p. 47.

The Next Words of Christ: Do you love me? Feed my sheep. John 21: 15 - 19

            Today’s scripture focuses on Peter. Three times Jesus asks him, “Do you love me?” and 3 times Peter responds, “Lord, you know that I love you.”  Three times Jesus commands Peter to feed—to tend to—Jesus’ sheep.  There is only one other obvious triplet—like this—in the Gospel According to John.  At that special Passover celebration when Jesus had washed the disciples’ feet, Peter whole-heartedly pledged his devotion to him.  But later that night, he deserted Jesus when temple soldiers arrived in the Garden of Gethsemane to arrest him.  Hiding in the shadows, Peter followed the guards to the high priest, Caiaphas’ house.  Standing in the courtyard, warming his hands by a charcoal fire, he hoped to hear news of Jesus. But when he was accused of being Jesus’ disciple, Peter vehemently denied any connection with him.  On that awful night, 3 times Peter was called a disciple of Jesus.  Three times Peter—the Rock—crumbled and denied even knowing him.   Now, Jesus asks three times “Do you love me?” Peter repents.  Jesus forgives.  Peter declares his love.  Jesus charges Peter—tend my sheep.  Rehabilitated, Peter is tasked with nurturing the community of faith.

            The last chapter of this gospel—chapter 21—“confirms that the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection continues to this day in the ongoing ministry of the community of disciples.”[1]  That means, there is more to this text than Peter’s rehabilitation.  Today, Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?”  We reply, “Yes, Lord, you know that we do.”  “Well, then—Feed my sheep.”  In other words—“Tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  Who are Jesus’ people?  Well, let’s examine who were Jesus’ people?  Some were his band of followers—which included tax collectors (considered Roman collaborators), prostitutes, and political zealots (Jewish revolutionaries).  Into his circle of followers, he welcomed not just those with “good” reputations but also those with “bad” reputations.  While the bulk of his ministry was serving other Jews, Jesus healed the Syro-Phoenician woman’s daughter and the Roman centurion’s servant.  For Jesus, “my” isn’t a limiting, exclusive pronoun.  For Jesus, “my people” is an ever-expanding group.  For us to tend to Jesus’ people, we need to cast our nets wide.  So, from the very first conversation we had about a possible summer day camp, we intended our circle of campers to be ever—expanding.  Of course our children would participate, but we also planned to invite children from outside of this congregation. In addition, we pledged to search for those who may not otherwise ever have a camp experience and offer it to them.

            “Do you love me?”  “Yes, Lord, you know that we do.”  “Well, then—Feed my sheep.  Tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  How did Jesus tend to his people?—with no regard to time, place, or situation.  When didn’t matter.  A man with a withered hand sought Jesus’ healing touch on the Sabbath.  Did Jesus say, “Come back another day?” No, he healed him then and there.  Where didn’t matter.  Traveling through Samaria—Now you need to know that the rivalry between Jews and Samaritans was more intense than the rivalry between Jayhawks and Wildcats, it was uglier than the rivalry between Longhorns and Sooners, it had a longer history than the rivalry between Missourians and Kansans—traveling through Samaria, Jesus offered his living water to the Samaritan woman at the well. What didn’t matter.  Jesus healed, welcomed, fed, and taught.  He offered whatever the people needed.  When, where, and what didn’t matter to Jesus.  He met them at their point of need. 

            I am proud that our Thrift Shop ministry meets people at their point of need.  While the regular sale hours are Saturdays from 9 – noon, anytime we become aware of a person in need of clothes, Lyla or one of the other Thrift Shop Volunteers

 omes to the shop to help that person or family find clothes.  I was at the Thrift Shop a couple of weeks ago when someone who had nothing but what he was wearing came in.  Not wanting to ask for much, he found a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. But Lyla and Vida know about meeting people at their point of need.  Lyla noticed his falling-apart shoes and found him some work boots that fit.  Well, if you get boots, you need socks, says Vida.  And you need clothes to wear under the jeans and shirt. Tending to people as Jesus would means meeting them at their point of need. 

            “Do you love me?”  Yes, Lord, you know we do.  “Well, then tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  How would Jesus tend to his people?—with freely flowing grace.  Jesus met the tax collector Zaccheus with open arms.  He did not say, Zaccheus, return the money you stole from these folks, and then I’ll come eat with you.  He said, Zaccheus, come down from the tree, for today I will share table fellowship with you. 

Like Zaccheus, we receive Jesus’ grace without earning it.  If we are to tend to Jesus’ people as he would tend to them, then we are expected to respond by loving freely and unconditionally.  Each Sunday, part of our offering is food we share through PACA food bank.  Richard Lentz volunteers there each week, and he shared this story of grace flowing freely.  One recent Wednesday, the volunteers filling the food requests learned that it was the birthday of a person receiving a sack of food that day.  The volunteers put cake mix, butter, eggs, and frosting in the sack.  When the person came to pick up her food and saw the extra items in her sack, she tearfully thanked the volunteers saying, “I didn’t think I would be celebrating my birthday this year, but you just gave me a birthday cake and reason to celebrate.”     

            “Do you love me?”  Yes, Lord, you know we do.  “Well, then tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  How would Jesus tend to his people?  Generously. 

After feeding 5000 people on the hillside above the Sea of Galilee, Jesus said let’s clean up, and 12 basketfuls of leftovers were collected.  Feeding the 5000 was a miracle of abundance—from start to finish.  Research shows that readiness for school increases academic success. Paola kindergarten teachers attest that students from our Preschool program are ready for public school.  What about the child whose parents can’t afford Preschool tuition but who needs extra opportunities to develop socially, cognitively, and emotionally before kindergarten?  How might we tend to such children generously?  Might we fund Preschool scholarships with special gifts or even in our operating budget?  What about our upcoming summer day camp ministry? 

            How might we generously tend to the campers?  We could give financially to provide camperships.  But could we also give generously of our time and energy?  We need at least one more counselor to offer attention and care and excitement for the activities to a small group of children all day each day.  Volunteers—here for part of the day—are needed to give their smiles and welcomes and energy by joining an activity or serving snack or drinks at lunch.  How might we generously tend to the Heartland staff—college students—who will be staying here and working with us that week?  Families or couples hosting an evening meal just for the Heartland staff could offer a couple of hours of home away from work and tender loving care.  How might we generously give to the day camp?  By praying that we will share the good news of Jesus Christ and help lay a foundation for a personal relationship between each child and Jesus; by praying that every camper will know they are loved as they are as a child of God; and by praying that campers will have fun. 

            “Do you love me?”  Yes, Lord, you know we do.  “Well, then feed my sheep.  Tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  Through this exchange between Peter and Jesus, we recognize that love—as Jesus commands us to love—is not just feeling, but more importantly it is action; it is giving of ourselves. Loving uses our resources—our energy, our time, our money, and our skills. To love is to nurture.  “Do you love me?”  Our answer—Yes, Lord, you know that we do—is loud and clear only through our actions.  Do you love me? Yes, Lord, you KNOW that we love you – look, see what we are doing to care for your sheep.

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[1] Frances Taylor Gench.  Encounters with Jesus: Studies in the Gospel of John. Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2007, p. 143.