Monthly Archives: October 2010

Southminster’s Wordle

While I was looking at a friend’s blog, I came across this application that turns the words on your site into visual art. You can make your own wordle here. Here’s the ‘wordle’ from this blog.

Wordle: MAG


Big Barns

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian

October 17, 2010

Luke 12:13-31

Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.”  But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?”

And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”
Then he told them a parable:
“The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’  Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’

But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’

So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

He said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear.  For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.
Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!
And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?
If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest?
Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these.
But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!
And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying.  For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them.

Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

Before I look at today’s text, I want to revisit last week for a moment. First of all, thank you to those of you who were willing to share a piece of your story in the middle of the sermon.  I know we all have differing levels of comfort with that sort of public testimony, but last week, I think it really brought the gospel home in new ways.
But there were some other stories in the news this past week, of people who were willing to share their radical gratitude and were willing to make a public stand, sharing their story. I want us to consider the connection between the thankful Leper who came back to say thanks to Jesus, and some of these stories.

As I’m sure you’ve no doubt heard in the news, there has been a tragic rash of suicides in the past few weeks, among young people across the country. Many of these were kids who have been picked on, bullied, and attacked because they were either gay or lesbian, or just because they looked like they were gay or lesbian.

As members of Christ’s body, it is time for us to speak up. Because we don’t want our silence to be misconstrued as acceptance of this intolerant and often violent behavior. Even if we agree to disagree about what the Bible actually says about the topic, I hope we can all agree that bullying and attacking someone because of their supposed sexuality is not what God calls us to do. It is time for us to make sure that this kind of bullying does not happen again. If one more kid takes their own life because they have been told a lie, we, as a community, need to take ownership.

We need to speak with our kids and make sure they are not participating in this behavior or being subjected to it.

We need to be willing to stand up for kids who feel so alone.

We need to reach out to young men and women who have been told that they are “less than”, that they are “abominations”, and we need to offer them a different story.

We need to offer them the Love of God and the Hope that comes only through Jesus Christ.

We need to help all of God’s children know that the God who created them loves them through it all and is standing in solidarity beside them.

A number of people are doing all they can to speak of radical gratitude in their lives, hoping that their message of “it gets better, give life a chance” will get through to kids who feel alone. The Trevor Project is one group, asking for men and women who are gay and lesbian to share their stories of how life gets better, and why life is worth choosing, even in the midst of such pain and attack.

An openly gay city councilman in Fort Worth, Texas used his microphone during a city council meeting last week, to testify that he had been bullied, that he had felt “less than” and “wrong” as a teenage kid. But through love and grace he made it through. I applaud Councilman Joel Burns for his public stance and testimony of radical gratitude, which he shared, even though he knew it could have political ramifications for him.

The sharing of our stories, as you did last week, as Councilman Burns did in Fort Worth, matter. You may be offering God’s Word of HOPE, of LIFE, of GRACE to someone in a way that will save a life, that will give encouragement when it is desperately needed.

As you watch it, consider the importance of these public offerings of gratitude and thanks for the gift of life, and remember our thankful leper from last week’s text.

Okay, thank you for that diversion.

Let’s look at the story we have today.

It begins with two brothers, fighting over their inheritance. “Jesus, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me!”

Jesus is having none of that. “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed. One’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

That seems pretty clear to me.

But then he tells them a parable anyway.

A rich man has a great farm, and a great harvest.

Let’s be clear that there is nothing wrong with that. Jesus is not critical of the man for his success, for his hard work, or for his good harvest. There is also no indication that he is a crook, or that he didn’t pay his laborers, or that he is somehow a bad guy.

But I suspect he gets in trouble with this next part:
“So he thought to himself, “self, what should I do? I have no place to store my crops. I will do this. I will pull down my barns and build larger ones and there I will store all my grain and goods. And I will say to myself, “self, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, and be merry.”

Did you notice any problem with his conversation?

Who was he talking to?

That’s right, himself.

Nobody else in the room.

He’s facing a big decision. What should he do with the abundance of grain he has?

But he doesn’t consult anyone else about what he might be able to do with all of that abundance.

Perhaps his family might have suggested he could sell the excess grain to a bakery.

Or his neighbor might have said, “you know, I volunteer at the Boise Rescue Mission, and I bet they could use some of the extra grain you have to feed the homeless.”

Perhaps one of his golfing buddies might have suggested that he diversify his portfolio and invest in a new start up.

I don’t know.

Maybe he still would have decided to build bigger barns. But his decision to just hang on to everything he had strikes me as a failure of imagination.

One of the gifts we have in community is the ability to inspire each other to bigger and more abundant ways of living. “Sure”, we might say, “you could do this…but what would happen if you did this instead?” This routinely happens at committee meetings. A so-so idea of mine, when let loose in the Mission Committee, for example, turns in to a GREAT idea. Almost every program done at this church has started out as one thing, but been made so much more because all of your creative ideas came together.

As we think of stewardship, it is about money. We need to put together a budget. But it is also about the abundance of community. How can we come together, sharing our best ideas to really help Southminster strive for God’s Kingdom?

Our rich man didn’t have the benefit of a community of faith to help him dream a more abundant way of living, or he chose not to seek that kind of community out.  In any case, he decides to build bigger barns and then kick back, put his feet up, eat, drink and be merry.

And God says, “you fool. This very night, your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared—whose will they be?”

It is never good when God calls you a fool, is it.

I hope this text gives us another way to consider God’s abundance. Because I wonder if our rich man is being called foolish because he didn’t know the proper response to God’s abundance. What if God is calling him foolish because God had invited him to be a part of God’s kingdom, using the gifts God had given him to make a difference in his community? God’s abundance is never so that we’ll have way more than we need. God’s abundance is designed so that we’ll have what we need and we’ll have more left to share with others.

What are we doing with our abundance? How are we using what we’ve been given to strive for the Kingdom?

Recently, I heard a story about some farmers who were Shakers. And their crops kept getting stolen. So the sheriff came to them and said, “if you’d put up fences, it would be easier for me to protect your property from thieves and keep the crime rate down.” But the Shakers talked it over and told the sheriff that if people were stealing their crops from the fields, it was an indication that too many people in the community were hungry, so rather than build fences, they would spend their time planting more acreage.

These Shakers understood that with their abundance, they were being invited by God to be a part of the Kingdom.

After Jesus tells the parable of the Big Barns, he has a little teaching lesson for the Disciples. Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat, or your body, what you will wear.

This is a particularly un-American and fiscally irresponsible passage of Scripture, or at least it seems that way on first glance. Because aren’t we supposed to save up for retirement or for our kids to go to college?

But if we look at it again, Jesus isn’t telling his disciples not to save or be responsible. He’s just telling them to get their focus right. Of course you need to eat, and you need clothes to wear.

But the point of our lives is not to work for food and clothing. We’re supposed to work for the Kingdom, and then the rest of it will follow.

Justin and I learned long ago, back during our poor student days, that if we paid our pledge at the beginning of the month, we still had money left at the end of the month for the things we needed. But when we worried about the other stuff first, and left our pledge for the end of the month, the money wasn’t always there. That still holds true. Each year we try to increase the amount of money we give away, and as long as we start with that first, we always have enough left to take care of the boring things like phone bills and grocery bills.

“For it is the nations of the world that strive after food and clothing, and your Father knows you need those things. So, instead, strive for God’s kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”

Friends, God is inviting us to use the abundant gifts we have been given, of both money and of creativity and other gifts, to be a part of God’s Kingdom work here in our community. Whether it is helping out at Grace Jordan School next door or providing a building for community groups such as Boy Scouts and Al Anon, with our budget we are working for God’s Kingdom.

Whether we are paying our utility bills or sending money to Presbyterian Disaster Assistance, with our budget we are striving for God’s kingdom.  As you prayerfully consider your stewardship pledge for 2011, remember also this story. The abundance of gifts in our lives are not just for our own benefit, but can be used to be a blessing for so many other people. And as we strive for the kingdom, the rest of our worries and concerns will sort themselves out. May it be so. Amen.


Radical Gratitude

A sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church

October 10, 2010

 

 

Luke 17:11-21

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”
When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean.
Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?”
Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”
Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.”

 

Jeremiah 29:1-7

These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles, and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people, whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon. This was after King Jeconiah, and the queen mother, the court officials, the leaders of Judah and Jerusalem, the artisans, and the smiths had departed from Jerusalem.
The letter was sent by the hand of Elasah son of Shaphan and Gemariah son of Hilkiah, whom King Zedekiah of Judah sent to Babylon to King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. It said:
Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:
Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce.
Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

 

I’ve never had leprosy. Nor have I been so estranged from society, even at my lowest moments, that I have had to “keep my distance”, as the lepers in our story did. They were commanded by both scripture and by society to keep their distance from their family and their community, which kept them from leading much of a life.  So, when they say to Jesus, “Master, have mercy on us!”, they are asking for more than just a physical healing. They are asking for a return to the wholeness that comes when you live in community.

And Jesus doesn’t heal them on the spot. He sends them to the priest, because it was only by showing yourself to the priest that your leprosy could be declared done.

It is on the journey that they are healed. It is because they had faith in Jesus’ words that they turned away from him and headed to the priest. They healing happens in response to their trust.

And I’m not all that sure I want to call the other 9 healed lepers completely ungrateful. Perhaps they kept going to the priest because that’s what Jesus had told them to do. Perhaps they intended to send him a thank you note later. The text doesn’t say.

But it does tell us that one of the healed men came back and fell on his feet before Jesus in gratitude.

Perhaps Luke wants us to understand the kind of gratitude where you just say thank you and write a thank you note—both good and important things to do—but the difference between that kind of gratitude and the kind that puts you on your knees.

We can imagine that the leper, when he realized his healing, and the possibility of new life, of renewed life with his family and community, was so overcome with gratitude that the only possible thing he could do was fall on his knees before Jesus in praise and thanks.
Notice, though, that his healing didn’t erase all of his problems. He still had to go back to re-build relationships. He still had to pay his mortgage and find a job. His healing didn’t make him a millionaire or a movie star. But it gave him life. And a new chance. And a fresh start at being a part of a community.

And so he fell on his knees and publicly said “thanks”.

How do we live in gratitude like that for the life we’ve been given?

One way is just to be aware that we’ve been healed. To remember that we’ve been saved. If you look at the world with gratitude on your mind, it is amazing what you’ll notice. I have a friend from seminary whose entire blog is to record what she calls “glimpses of grace” that she sees each day. The other day, the things for which she was thankful were a postcard from a friend, a call from another one, and being able to serve communion with a bread local to her community in South Texas.

Frederick Buechner writes:
“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

This is what the leper noticed. That in this interaction with Jesus, on the way to the priest, he had a holy moment of healing. And he gave thanks.

But the leper didn’t just say thanks quietly, to himself. He did so publicly. He shared his gratitude in the presence of his community. Sharing our stories is a sacred thing. Remember the man’s illness was something lived out publicly too. He had to keep his distance and announce his presence so that he wouldn’t spread his disease. His unhealth was a part of the community. And so was his healing.

This is how we live out authentic and real community. We share our successes and we share our pains. We don’t just put on our happy faces and pretend that everything is always fine. We share our joys and concerns in worship during the prayer time, and we need to seek those opportunities to share our stories—the good and the bad—with each other.

What are three things for which you are thankful this morning? I am thankful to be home from a great week at the conference in Jackson Hole. I am thankful for my husband and kids. I am thankful for the color of autumn leaves.

Take a moment and share what you are thankful for with the people sitting near you.

While living in gratitude, as the leper did, as you just did this morning, is an important way to orient ourselves to the world, our Old Testament passage suggests that it the implications of gratitude are bigger than mere thanks.

To people living in exile in Babylon, Jeremiah tells them to build homes, in exile. To plant gardens, in exile. To marry. To have kids. To put down roots, in exile. They are being told to bloom where they are planted, even if that place is not where they want to be. And then they are called on to pray for the city. Not just for the Jerusalem to where they long to return, but to pray for the city of their exile, for Babylon.

They are to seek the welfare, the shalom, the wholeness, of the city that has disrupted their lives and put them into exile.

When do we say thanks for the things in our lives for which we don’t want to be thankful?

Exile.

Cancer or other diseases.

Job loss.

Are there times when you’ve been able to say “thanks” for those?

Are any of you willing to share stories about this kind of gratitude?
(At this point, a number of people in the congregation shared stories of how actual exile from their countries or communities, and more metaphoric exiles of divorce, autism, and the death of a spouse ended up being moments for which they could give thanks.)

How would that change your life, to pray for the wholeness, the health, the shalom of those people and situations that place you in exile?

Jeremiah instructs the people:
“But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.

This week, I invite you to seek the welfare of the city where you have been sent into exile.

To live with trust that is deep enough to believe that God can bring about your welfare, your shalom, even in the midst of exile and trouble.

To live with gratitude that is radical and public. Amen.


Faith and Forgiveness

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian, Boise, Idaho

October 3, 2010

Luke 17:1-10

Jesus said to his disciples, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come!  It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble.
Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive. And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.”
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”
The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.
“Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’?
Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded?
So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”

Lamentations 3:19-26

The thought of my affliction and my homelessness
is wormwood and gall!
My soul continually thinks of it
and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

The LORD is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul that seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.

The assigned reading today from Luke’s gospel actually didn’t begin until verse 5, when the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith. I added the earlier verses because I wanted us to get a sense of why the disciples were asking for more faith.

They aren’t just asking for more faith so they can store it up for future use. They aren’t asking for more faith so they can be super apostles and impress people with their faith-i-ness.

I think they are asking for more faith because of verses 1-4:
Jesus said to his disciples, “Occasions for stumbling are bound to come, but woe to anyone by whom they come!  It would be better for you if a millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea than for you to cause one of these little ones to stumble.  Be on your guard! If another disciple sins, you must rebuke the offender, and if there is repentance, you must forgive.  And if the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.”

Forgiveness. Forgiveness. Forgiveness.

Jesus has just told the disciples that when someone repents, they must forgive.

Even if they offend you seven times in one day, and turn to you seven times with repentance, you must forgive.

No wonder the disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith.

Because true repentance is hard. True forgiveness is hard.

And I wonder if it is even harder within a faith community than it is out in the world. Because the stakes are higher here. This is the place where we want everything to be nice, happy, friendly, and safe. But we’re human. We hurt each other.

Often times, rather than face it head on, telling someone, “I felt hurt when you….”, we just say, “Oh, I don’t want to make a big deal out of it and make them feel uncomfortable.” We think that “being Christian” means not saying difficult things. We think that keeping a false peace is more important than seeking justice and truth.

And then we lose authentic community. We make this a place where we only pretend to be honest. We keep up an appearance of peace, when hurt and resentment simmer below the surface.

I do think that we have to be careful and kind when we do go to someone who has hurt us. We aren’t given permission to go be mean and say we’re doing it for the sake of community. We have to go in love, ready to listen and to hear and to see truth in what the other person is saying.

And so we, like the disciples, ask for more faith.

If you noticed, Jesus is not all puppies and rainbows in this passage. He makes it very clear that how we treat each other matters greatly. The stakes are high. It would be better to be thrown into the sea than to cause someone else to stumble.

And so the disciples ask for more faith.

And we should as well. Because we want to have real and authentic community, where we can be honest with each other.

I’ve mentioned to you before that I’m not much of a mind reader. And so I do hope that if I ever do anything to offend, that you would come and share that with me so that I can do what I can to make amends. I am sincerely sorry for anything that I have done that has hurt or offended any of you. If there are conversations we need to have, please let me know.

We need to commit to do that for each other.

And so we ask for more faith.

Because Christ calls us to live as he lived, not as the world lives. And so it is our faith that allows us to attempt it.

But when they ask for faith, what does he say?

If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”

I think we sometimes hear this comment as rebuke.
If you only had a little bit of faith….
you could fix your broken relationships
you could heal cancer
you could find a job
you could have all the money you need to be happy.

How often do you feel like that?

As if the painful situations in your life are because you somehow failed or are unworthy?

I don’t think that is what Jesus is saying here. I think he’s telling us that we have what we need. I think he’s telling us that it doesn’t take a 40 gallon vat of faith to repent, to forgive each other, and to live together in real community. I think he’s telling us that even with faith the size of a mustard seed, we can do amazing and miraculous things.

Like say we’re sorry and forgive each other.

He then goes on to tell a story about a slave and his master. And it makes us get very uncomfortable because, well, it is about a slave and his master.

But, to the point, I wonder if his illustration about a slave doing his job is a reminder to us about why we’re given mustard seeds of faith in the first place—to be God’s serving community. Faith is not to be collected and hoarded, but faith is to be lived out as servants of God. “We are worthless slaves; we have only done what we ought to have done.”

Our response to receiving faith, whether it comes in a tiny mustard seed or a big vat, is to then go out and be God’s servants in the world.

Notice also that the slaves are mentioned in the plural “we”.  We are connected in our faith. As I’ve said before, our faith may be personal, but it shouldn’t be private. In other words, we aren’t given mustard seeds worth of faith to only be of benefit for ourselves. We are supposed to take our little bits of faith and combine them with the little bits of faith around us. What each of us can do individually is nothing compared to what we can do together.

In a few minutes we’ll come to the table for communion, which might be the best image for us of the communal nature of our faith. This is World Communion Sunday, which reminds us that in addition to sharing a meal at Christ’s table here in this room, we are sharing this communion with brothers and sisters in Christ all across the world.

World Communion Sunday started in 1936 because a group of Presbyterian pastors in America were concerned about the state of the world. The Great Depression and a looming World War 2 called these people to reaffirm our unity in Christ, regardless of nationality, race, creed, or political ideology.

Other churches joined in over the years. And in the 1970’s, our denomination decided that World Communion Sunday is the appropriate day to celebrate our commitment to peacemaking. So this morning we’ll be collecting the peacemaking offering. 25% will remain here to be used toward peacemaking in our community. The remainder of the offering will be sent to the denomination to support peacemaking efforts around the country and the world.

Each of our little mustard seeds of offering will be combined with gifts from all around the country. Together they will be able to work for peace in ways that none of us could individually.

“Increase our faith!”, the apostles said to Jesus.

We too, ask for this.

When the task seems too great; when we feel that we can’t even find a mustard seed of faith to get through the day, I invite you to remember the words we heard this morning from Lamentations:

But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

This song, written by one in exile and buried under much pain and sadness, is one of hope. Not because of himself. Not because the world around him gave him hope.

But because of God.

But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.

“Increase our faith”, we cry out.

We come to this table today as Christ’s own body, united with the hope that comes from God, trusting that with even a mustard seed sized faith, we can serve the God whose steadfast love never ceases, whose mercies never come to an end.  May it be so.


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