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My heart beats for love. I want to be different. I want to be who I am called to be. WORTHY and LOVED!

Sunday, January 26, 2014

2 Cor 5:11-21 - Taking Out the Trash

Too many of us are carrying heavy loads with us. Loads that we were not meant to carry. Sacks full of sin, guilt, shame, embarrassment. Emotional garbage. But there is a way to get rid of it all.
Last week we discussed how Jesus tells us to come to him. Asking us to trade in our burdens for his light yoke. But why don’t we? Why do we keep picking up our emotional garbage, looking it over, keeping it hidden? There are several different reasons we do so. Do you see yourself in either of the following scenarios.
You believe in Jesus Christ. You believe in the power of the cross - at least at an intellectual level, but you seem to doubt if Jesus really can handle your trash. Really can handle the weight of your sin. Sure he died for those other people, but he hasn’t seen what you are carrying around. He may not be able to handle all of it - it may just be too much to ask, even of a Savior. Maybe he didn’t really mean what he said about coming to him. Maybe he doesn’t really want to take this trash upon himself. 
Or maybe you believe that Christ can carry your burden, but you don’t want him too. You figure if you can just push it down deep inside of you enough then you can forget about it and God won’t know about it. Spiritual baggage isn’t as noticeable as some other things, so maybe, just maybe no one will know and you can go through life ignoring the ache inside of you. 
There are a variety of reasons that we refuse to bring our struggles and sins before Christ, but these are two of the most common. We don’t believe that Jesus’ invitation to come to him really applies to us. We don’t believe that Jesus wants to provide us rest by taking the burden of sin away. In fact, maybe he would punish us even more. But when we think this way we are forgetting what Paul is preaching about in today’s scripture passage. We forget that we are filled with the love of Christ who died for our sins, so that we no longer have to live a life of sin and be alienated from God. 
When we try to hide our sin from God we forget that we are well known to God. In fact, nothing can be hidden from God. And if only we would freely bring our hearts forward in repentance, there would be no condemnation because of Christ. Yet, we fear that might not be true so we try to deny that we have a sin problem at all.
But denial does not make trash go away in our houses or in our hearts. Think about it. If week after week your garbage can is overflowing to the point where trash is now on the floor and counters and tables, but you never take it out, does it go away? Certainly not. It simply grows and grows. You can pretend that you don’t notice it, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t present. So it is with our hearts. We can certainly pretend that we are fine and there is nothing we need to confess before God, but ignoring our sin, pushing it down deep within ourselves, trying to hide it, doesn’t make it go away.
So we are invited to bring our trash to Christ. To confess our short comings. To hand over our sin. Confession doesn’t create our relationship with God. It simply nourishes it. Flows from it. Confession is a gift from our spirit that we don’t often utilize. In one of the bible studies held in the parish the comment was made that we are more apt to tell God what we or someone else needs, or to say thank you for a blessing received, then to confess. Because when we confess a sin, we acknowledge it. And that is scary. 
But even more frightening is what unconfessed sin can lead to -  a split deep inside of us. On the surface we may proclaim that we are God’s children and everything is splendid, but deep in our spirits we don’t want to talk to God. We avoid God. Unconfessed sin stands as a barrier in our relationship. Its not erected all at once, but unconfessed sin after unconfessed sin build up over time and we choose to separate ourselves from God.
When I was younger I heard a story told by Joshua Harris entitled “The Room” that has always stuck with me. It goes like this. In a dream I found myself in a room, that was nondescript other than one entire wall filled with index card files, like libraries used to have. But the files that stretched from floor to celling and seemed endless didn’t have book titles. Instead they told the story of my life. A card catalog of everything I had ever done or thought or said. Big and small. Things that I didn’t even remember. So I began to open files that caught my attention, like one labeled “Friends”, which contained not only joyful memories, but some that brought shame and regret such as the one entitled “Friends I Have Betrayed”. There were so many files. “Books I’ve Read”. “Lies I’ve Told”. “Comfort I’ve Given”. “Things I’ve Done in Anger”. I began to feel sick about some of the moments that had been recorded. Some of the things that were a part of myself. I was captured by one though alone: “No one must see these cards! I have to destroy them!” So I pulled out index card file after index card file, only to find that I couldn’t dislodge a single card. With a sigh I returned the file and I began to weep out of shame. But as I cried I saw Jesus standing there, the last person I would ever want to know about what’s written on some of these cards. Slowly he began to open up file after file, reading everyone. Finally he looked at me across the room with pity. He didn’t say anything. He simply cried with me. And then he went back over to the files and one by one he started to sign his name overtop of mine on each card. “No!” I cried. Running over to him. But he had already signed his name in deep, red blood. And then he said “It is finished”.

Friends, we can’t hide our sins from Christ because he has already died for them. He has already died for the baggage that we were not meant to live with, not meant to carry. We need to look at our sin from God’s point of view, not our own. That God grieves when we continue to carry around unconfessed sin, refusing to hand it over. Refusing to take out our trash. That as new creations in Christ we are not meant to be carrying around old baggage, but rather are to be reconciled to the God who loved us to the point of going to the cross for us. In fact, because of Christ, God not only forgives our mistakes but removes them. But we have to choose to stop pretending and bring them to God. 
Set aside all that is preventing you from bringing your sin, your trash, your baggage before God. How many of you still have the rock from last week? If you were not here last week, please pick up a rock on your way out and write on it something that you are holding on to that needs to be given to God. Carry it around with you day after day and bring it with you to worship next week, where we will bring our stones, our trash, our sin before God. But before we can participate in this ritual of forgiveness, we need to confess before God. Confess over the sin that we are carrying around and confess that we have held on to it for so long. Confess that we have hidden it in shame or have just thought that it was too much for Christ to handle. Confess, brothers and sisters, let go of what is weighing you down and embrace freedom in Jesus. For the cross has proclaimed “It is finished”. Amen. 






Sunday, January 19, 2014

Matthew 11: 25-30: “Carrying the Weight of the World”

Most of us go around each day carrying a heavy load. It’s not a physical load per say, rather the weight of emotional wounds, deep hurts that we have let sink into us. Even though it may not be a physical weight it causes everything to hurt - our back, legs, arms, chest, heart. They all hurt from carrying around garbage - emotional garbage. 
For the next three weeks we are going to be talking about what it means to give our emotional garbage, those things weighing us down, to our Savior who beckons us to him. For some of us we are carrying around large rocks, boulders that separate us from others and the love of Christ. Some of us are carrying around pebbles in comparison, but a bag full of pebbles quickly can become just as weighty as boulders. We’ve been carrying this weight, the weight of the world, around for too long. 
When is the last time you remember not carrying around the weight of the world? Not being weighed down by concerns, past mistakes? When was the last time you didn’t have to drag around everything with you? Many of us, in defense, may cry out that carrying around this weight is just part of life, but friends that is not so. In today’s scripture Jesus invites us to trade in our load for his. Telling all of us who carry heavy burdens that he will give us rest. That he will be our rest. And that we can trade in what we are carrying for his yoke, which is easy and light.
Too many of us have been carrying around burdens so long that we can’t imagine our lives without them, let alone pinpoint when they became part of who we are, like an extra extremity. In the words of Max Lucado, “Suddenly one day we notice that our step has lost its spring. The sky has lost its blue. Our memory book has faded. We didn’t plan for this. It just happened.” Perhaps taking on this weight did just happen over time, or maybe you do know the exact moment you picked it up and started journeying with it. Regardless of whether you have this memory or not, Jesus is inviting you to drop it. Right where you are. Turn around. Walk away. And don’t pick it back up. 
But what exactly are these rocks, these things weighing us down, that we are being commanded to leave behind? The story behind each rock may be different for each of us, but many are the same. Anger that became abuse. Lust that lead to adultery. Greed that became embezzlement. Guilt that turned into fear that blocked you from following God. For others its the weight of regrets. Shame. The pain of old wounds that you just can’t bring yourself to forgive. Broken hearts and bitter thoughts. Or maybe your rock is chronic worrying. In Greek the word “worry” means to have a divided mind. A divided heart. The list goes on and on.
My family is a big fan of detective shows. Light hearted ones like Psych and Monk. I can surprisingly deal with the death scenes most of the time, but I get really grossed out when the sleuths start digging through other people’s garbage. But isn’t that one of the places we can learn the most about someone? What brand of orange juice they like to drink. If they throw everything away or recycle. What they made for dinner that week. Sifting through people’s trash tells us a lot about them. So can sifting through their emotional garbage.
Despite what we have been told by popular culture, it doesn’t help to just talk about what is weighing us down. Yes, we can pour out the bag of rocks that we are carrying - pick each one up and tell someone about them. But for far too many of us, after we are done talking about them, we all too often pick each one back up and pack it back into our bag, going on with what weighs us down. 
Friends, there is another way. We are invited by the Savior that loves us to hand these rocks, big or small, whatever they may be, over to God. We are beckoned to come to Jesus and give him all that is weighing us down - because he has already dealt with it. He went to the cross to defeat our emotional garbage and sin. Yet, we insist on holding on to it. Insist that carrying it around is more comfortable and familiar than setting it down and taking on his yoke, even though its lighter than anything we have ever carried before. 
Brothers and sisters, now is the time. The time to come to Jesus. Christian recording artists Chris Rice wrote a song a few years ago entitled “Untitled Hymn”. It was later renamed, “Come to Jesus”. Weak and wounded sinner, lost and left to die, O raise your head for love is passing by. Come to Jesus and live. Now your burden’s lifted, and carried far away, and the precious blood has washed away the stain. Sing to Jesus and live. Sometimes the way is lonely, and steep and filled with pain. So if your sky is dark and pours the rain, cry to Jesus and live.”
This is what Jesus revealed to us about God. That he doesn’t want us to keep carrying around our burdens and heartache and pain. He wants to take them from us. He wants to put them on himself. He wants to love us and carry our burdens away. But we have to take the first step by handing them over to Him and not demanding them back. 
The Pelicano is the most unwanted ship in the world since 1986. No country wants to claim her so the ship just sails aimlessly in the ocean, bobbing between countries. No one wants her because she is a ship full of trash. During the garbage strike in Philadelphia of 1986 someone had the brilliant idea to send the garbage out to sea on a ship after the surrounding states refused to receive the municipalities waste. So the Pelicano is now a garbage freighter. Destined to not have a destination.
Brothers and sisters, we aren’t trash filled boats - but we have trash filled hearts. And our trash filled hearts prevent us from being fully alive. Prevent us from truly having a destination. Prevent us from fully living into our lives and relationships as God intended us to. But the story doesn’t have to end here. For we have a Savior who loves us so much that he wants us to give him our burdens, our trash, our rocks. In fact, that’s what he came and died just to do.
Many of us are in different places in our journey with our emotional garbage. Some of us have spent so long running from it, pushing it down, and avoiding it that we can’t even name it. Others of us know it intimately, but even with all of the pain it causes us we cling to it like a security blanket because it is familiar. Some of us have tried to give our trash to God, but at the last minute we keep pulling it back, putting it in our bags and going on with it, because we are afraid its too much for God to handle or we are afraid of the yoke of Christ. 
You should have received a stone when you came into worship this morning. If you didn’t please raise your hand and someone will bring you one. I invite you to write on the stone a word for one of the burdens you are carrying. And after you write on your stone, carry it around with you for the next three weeks. May it be a physical reminder of the emotional weight that Christ is asking you to give up. 

And as you come across that pocket in the coming weeks, remember that God invites us to something better. God, through Jesus Christ, invites us to come, all of you who are weary and heavy laden, and have rest. Come and take the yoke of Christ upon you, learning from him, and finding rest for your soul. Come for his yoke is easy and his burden is light. Come to Jesus and find life anew. Come to Jesus and live. Amen. 

Saturday, January 11, 2014

Funeral Sermon - Cheryl E. - Selections from John 14

The disciples are upset. Jesus is talking about leaving them, and it feels as if they were just finally hitting their ministry stride. Like three years went by in a blink of an eye with this one they call their master. It seems too soon. He has to be wrong, right?
But Jesus is trying to prepare his disciples for what is to come. He know that his death is imminent. He wasn’t talking about leaving the ones he loves in a philosophical sense or as some far off possibility. Death was coming far too quickly. 
I don’t know if we can ever truly be prepared for the death of one that we love dearly - one that the disciples loved as dearly as Jesus or one that we loved as dearly as Cheryl. Sometimes Jesus’ words to his disciples seem empty in the face of our grief. Empty against the chasm of all that we have lost. And yet, they are words of hope found in the promises of faith.
First, Christ is telling his disciples that he is leaving us to prepare a place - a place that we will call home. It is a place that Jesus himself will escort us to someday. A place that is made just for us - painted in our favorite color. A table set with our favorite foods. A place just right for us.
I have found myself the last couple of days wondering what the place Cheryl is in is like for her. I see it as brightly painted walls that frame pictures of her favorite people and favorite moments. Large swatches of fabric and rolls of quilt batting. The sound of the hum of the sewing machine, that Cheryl sits at while she hums her favorite hymns. In this place, Cheryl no longer feels pain. There is no more crying. She gets to fill her days doing what she loves, in a place prepared just for her, for the glory of God. A place that Jesus escorted her to himself, when she took her final breath. I find hope in such an image and hope in such a Lord that promises to prepare a place for us. 
Second, Jesus tells his disciples that he won’t leave them alone. Jesus knows the heartache that can come from being separated from the ones you love. Just a few chapters before this passage of promises in the Gospel of John Jesus felt the pain of the death of his friend, Lazarus. He wept at his grave. He cried with Mary and Martha over the pain of their lose. But this pain was not the final word for Jesus. It was not what he was leaving his disciples with. He promised to send them an Advocate, the Holy Spirit to teach them, love them, and remind them of the message of Christ. 
We too are not left alone, even in the midst of our grief. We have the Holy Spirit present with us, even now, as we proclaim that Christ’s death was not the final word and that through him we have victory over the grave through Jesus Christ. That Cheryl has victory over death that came far too soon. So today we gather together in our grief while we look forward to the hope we know Cheryl had. We gather together bound by the same Holy Spirit that Jesus spoke to his disciples about, to give us hope and peace, especially during this time.
And Jesus also blessed us with this community. For we have not been left to grieve alone, though surely we will each grieve in our own way. The promise Christ makes in today’s passage is two fold - the gift of the Holy Spirit, to bring Jesus to our minds, and to remind us that we are to follow the way of Christ laid before us, but also the promise of community. A community that remembers. A community to comfort and support one another.
Time and time again when I visited with Cheryl she would say that she was not afraid to die, that she had a deep sense of peace since the diagnosis and “it is well with her soul”. She just wanted her kids to be okay. To take care of each other. To love each other. The last time we spoke with each other we were talking about the Ensminger family Christmas party. She commented that she used to be surprised when people would comment on how close and loving the family was, because it was just the reality she lived in. It something she took for grant it. But this is a family that truly gets what it means to take care of each other. To love each other.
I hope and pray that you never lose that. That even during this time of grief you reach out to one another for love and care. Reach out to all of these friends and family members gathered to grieve with you, not just today but in the weeks and months and years to come. For this is one of the gifts that Jesus promised us - that others will walk through life with us, even and especially during the valley of the shadow of death. 
We’ve gathered together as this community today in the face of sorrow to mourn one that we cannot believe is no longer sitting right here with us. We’ve gathered together to witness to who Cheryl is, what memories we have and how she has impacted our lives with her quiet faith. And we gather together to fulfill Cheryl’s wish, that we take care of one another in the love that only family and friends can truly have for one another. 
There is one final promise that is found in this scripture passage for us this afternoon. Jesus tells his disciples “I do not give as this world gives.” We live in a world brothers and sisters that has such heartbreaking things as cancer and death. As suffering and pain. But that is not what Jesus gives us. Christ gives us a hope that we will be reunited someday. I believe with all of my heart that we have the ability to be reunited with Cheryl and hear her laughter and share her sense of humor. I believe that we will be reunited and talk with her about the things that the Besties did and the beauty of her time with you, Steve. I believe we will pass around pictures of grand-babies as she brags about them and talk over cups of tea about what we appreciate about one another. To share together in all that Cheryl loved. For this is what Christ has prepared for us to enjoy with Cheryl.

But until we live into the reality of that hope we gather together to grieve and to remember. To look forward to that great day when we will be reunited. To talk about what we loved about Cheryl. To remember who Cheryl believed in. And as we gather as this community of love, may we feel, even for just the briefest of moments, the peace and presence of the Holy Spirit that Christ has promised us. Amen. 

Monday, January 6, 2014

Traveler vs. Tourist

   Given the choice I would rather be a traveler than a tourist. I would rather prepare myself to be immersed in a  culture different than my own - setting myself aside as much as possible in order to grow through the experience. I want to learn the language, customs, and culture. I want to go where the locals go and take risks that stretch me.

  I don't want to be a person who goes somewhere exotic just so I can say I went. I don't want to be the same person I was when I come back from my travels. I don't just want to sample a culture, collect trinkets, and call it a day.

   As a leader in the local church I resonate with what Mark Buchanan writes in Your Church is Too Safe. Too many churches are tourist friendly, calling people to come with no commitment. Simply to believe whatever they want to believe, no cost involved. Churches are filled with people who call themselves Christian because its tradition or easy, but we seem to be lacking people who are really willing to travel the journey of faith as disciples. In the words of Buchanan "The Kingdom of God is made up for travelers, but our churches are largely populated by tourists."

 

Sunday, January 5, 2014

The Culture of Possibility

"21-25 year olds are busy creating a culture of possibility" 
- Dear Church: Letters from a Disillusioned Generation by Sarah Cunningham

A culture of possibility. The idea that the future isn't set in stone, things are changing and we are growing along the way. The belief that we truly can change the world.

I find a deep affinity with the mission statement of the United Methodist Church to "make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world." As I was teaching an adult membership class today I shared that John Wesley and generations of his followers truly believe that the Church can transform the world. I could feel myself smiling as I said it. I love that the United Methodist Church still believes in the culture of possibility.

At least in its vision statement. Grant it, sometimes we get stuck in the execution. We've become experts at shooting down ideas and giving excuses as to why we can't follow through. We dismiss ideas that would require us to work too hard without even praying to see if the dream is God's. Because possibility scares us as an institution.

And perhaps that's why as an institution we look around and see a whole generation - the generation of dreams in the possible - missing. We proclaim that we believe the world can be transformed, but we don't live it out in our discussions and actions. 

I don't know about you, but I want to return to the culture of possibility. The culture where we dare to dream God's dreams. Dare to believe that disciples of Jesus Christ can transform the world. What would it take to get us there?