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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, June 17, 2018

“The Gospel of Luke: The Good Samaritan” Luke 10: 25-37



I have often been asked by church folks if I get worried about talking about non-Christians about faith. My response often surprises them. I would much rather talk to someone who is seeking faith or does not yet know Christ then talk to Christians who think they know all the answers. We need to look no farther then today’s scripture passage to see why.
The story of the Good Samaritan is one that perhaps you already know. Countless Bible Studies and Sunday school lessons have been taught on it over the years, as well as numerous sermons preached. But I want to invite you to set aside what you may already know about this story today and explore it with open hearts and open ears. 
Let’s start back at the beginning of this story - the part that often gets left out. A lawyer came to Jesus and asked him a very specific question - “what must I do to gain eternal life?” Friends, a whole sermon could be preached just on this question. This lawyer, or legal expert as some translations call him, was an expert in scripture - thats what lawyers were back in that day. He was one who would have studied the scripture with meticulous detail, and guess what, he isn’t asking this question because he is truly curious or seeking. He is asking this question because he already has an opinion and he wants to justify what he already believes. 
What does he already have an opinion on - how to gain eternal life. As modern day Christians we may assume that he is asking how to get to heaven or how to obtain a life after death, but that isn’t what he is asking at all. Instead, eternal life, was here and now and it was the fullest, most richly blessed life that you could live. 
Do you see now why I dislike talking to Christians who think they know it all, or enter a conversation not with an open heart but instead wanting to justify themselves? Its just like the lawyer in this text who wants Jesus to give him the thumbs up that he is doing everything right - proving that he was right all along. 
But Jesus saw right into the man’s heart, and instead of giving him a pat on the back, he responds with a question of his own - what does the law say and how do you interpret it? Jesus wanted to engage the man further, seeing where his own justification lie. To which the man replied. “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself.” - right of Deut.  and Leviticus. 
Jesus then answered that the man was right and that he should live into what the law says. But that answer didn’t satisfy the lawyer at all. He wanted to prove that he was the best of the best, and that he was going to get eternal life right here, right now - so he asked Jesus who his neighbor was - which enters us into the story commonly referred to as the Good Samaritan. 
There is a lot that we can miss in our modern day understanding of this story - so lets start with the road that ran from Jerusalem to Jericho. First, it was dangerous. It was not a road that you would want to travel alone, as it was often inhabited by thieves. Why? Because of the way that it was formed. The road was only a few feet wide - with a steep drop off on one side. Thieves could hide behind boulders and then ambush folks, because there was literally no place to run to. 
We can assume because Jesus didn’t give the man’s religious affiliation that he was a Jew. A man like the one who asked the question that led to the story in the first place. He was robbed, beaten up, and left for dead. And then other folks started to walk past him. Now I have heard plenty of justification over the years as to why those who walked by - specifically the priest and Levite - didn’t help the man. But saying that they didn’t see the man does not work. Remember - narrow road - only a few feet wide with no other side of the road - they literally almost had to walk right over him in order to be on their way. They had to choose to ignore him. 
But, thankfully, a third person stopped by, a Samaritan. Jews didn’t like Samaritans at all. They disagreed about teachings in scripture and as a result Jews were not to have contact with the Samaritans. Yet, it was this man, the one who wouldn’t have been treated kindly by the injured man in any other circumstance, who stopped what he was doing and took care of the man, going above and beyond to continue to pay for his needs until he was healed. 
Jesus ends the story by asking, What do you think? Which one of these three was a neighbor to the man who encountered thieves? And the lawyer couldn’t even bring himself to say the Samaritan - all he could say was the one who demonstrated mercy.
Friends, we may have heard this story before. And we may have heard about how it is a story about helping those in trouble, which is certainly true. But there is a deeper power to this story than just that. This lawyer would never have thought there could be such a thing as a Good Samaritan - in fact, even at the end of the story he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge either inside of his heart or through his words. 
Who are our neighbors? Perhaps those people who are most unlike us. Perhaps those people who we even dislike. 
I think the first time I remember hearing this story was in Kindergarten Sunday school class, complete with a flannel graft board with pictures. Over the years I have heard it again and again - it was often one that we even acted out in class, because it could be performed without words. Why do we keep coming back to this story, friends? Because we get it. Even kids understand the type of people in this story - there are people who are “in” and people who are “out” at school. And there is a deep truth in this story that sometimes its the people who are outsiders who are willing to give it all, even if other people may not be willing to do that for them. 
We get this story even starting at a young age. But that doesn’t make it any easier. We need to keep coming back to this text that we are almost too familiar with, because it hasn’t changed us yet. We may still be the priest of the Levite - people who know the law to love God with all we have and all we are and to love our neighbor as ourselves, but it hasn’t really changed us yet. We still stick to our categories or who is in and who is out, and we keep pushing the people on the outside further and further away. 

But the truth of this story - the hard truth - is that God hasn’t given up on that person who may not be like us. God isn’t like the Levite or the priest, so we shouldn’t be either church. Instead, God binds us together. God transforms us together - if only we let Him. May we go forth from this place, not looking for who is in and who is out, but instead listening to the call of the God who invites us to love our neighbor, all our neighbors, even those most unexpected. Amen. 

Sunday, June 10, 2018

The Gospel of Luke: Calming the Storm Luke 8: 22-25


If I had to pick my favorite Gospel it would be the Gospel of Luke. There was a time in the life of the church, where new believers would be encouraged to read the Gospel of John - though I could never quite understand why this is where we wanted folks new to the faith to start, since the Gospel of John, while beautifully written, often speaks in language that can be difficult to grasp. Others have been encouraged to read the Gospel of Mark - but everything happens so quickly in this Gospel (where the most frequently occurring word is ‘kai’ - ‘and’) that it is easy to skip right over something important. 
I love the Gospel of Luke because it focuses on the totality of Jesus’s ministry - from before his conception through his death and beyond - connecting seemlessly with the other books authored by Luke the Physician - Acts. It speaks of miracles and healings. Teaching and parables. All of Luke’s writings are pointing us towards a God who loved us enough to send a Savior.
For the next three weeks we are going to be exploring the Gospel of Luke together, picking up on some the key stories found within. Today we start in the eighth chapter of the Gospel with the the calming the sea.
One day, Jesus and his disciples ventured across the lake. However, while they were sailing a storm hit. Let’s pause here. When we say that the disciples were in a boat, I think many of us have grand visions of what a boat would look like during this time. We may not be thinking ocean liner or ark, but we are definitely thinking more than a modern fishing boat. But a fishing boat it was. One that would easily be swept up and take on water during a large storm. 
For my parents 30th wedding anniversary, our family ventured to the Outer Banks in North Carolina. It was truly a week full of family and celebration - from renewing their vows on the beach to renting a pontoon boat to watch the sunset one evening. If you have ever been on a pontoon boat - they also can take on water. If you want to steer clear of the spray, you are told not to sit in certain locations and even then you are probably going to get a little wet. That’s with the weather being good. Seeing what happened on a beautiful day in that pontoon boat, I would never want to be caught in one in a storm.
Yet the disciples found themselves in something probably equivalent in size, if just a bit larger and maybe with a lower level on it, then that pontoon boat. In a storm. Those disciples who had previous lives as fishermen would have known about life on the water - and they would also know about the power of the storm. The boat was taking on too much water and the knew that they were in danger. 
I think many of us know about the power of storms in our own lives as well. Perhaps it is a natural storm. I have shared with a few of you - that at an early age my brothers and I became avid shop-vac users, because my parents basement would flood when it rained too hard and too fast. We lost toys and photos and records and books, and quickly learned not to leave things in the basement that we were prizes possessions. 
For others of us, the storms we face aren’t ones from nature but ones from around us - storms of rock relationships, divorce, estranged family members. The storms that you know are coming - like when you have to go a family reunion where you know you will face the same people making the same hurtful comments, and the storms that completely take you by surprise. 
Still for others it may be the storms that we face within - addictions. Illness. Private struggles. Those things that we try to keep to ourselves, while the waves inside seem like they are breaking us apart. 
Jesus, too knew about storms. All sorts of storms. Just in the eighth chapter of the Gospel of Luke, we find him telling his disciples that his family is really those who listen and respond to the Word of God, as he is told that his family is looking for him. He heals a man possessed by demons and a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. He raised a daughter from the dead. Jesus was seeing daily the effects of storms in people’s personal and communal lives. 
Here’s the problem church. All too often we let the story end there. We talk about the storm. And then stop. We forget the next part of the story. The part where the disciples recognized their need and went and got Jesus and he calmed the wind and the waves. The disciples thought they were going to drown and parish and Jesus brought peace. 
Friends, the storm is not the end of the story. Jesus is. Jesus who brings healing. Jesus who brings peace. The problem is that we often are only looking for Jesus to show up in a very particular way, and if things don’t turn out the way we want - then we assume that Jesus wasn’t there. We want the Jesus from this story, who stops the storm immediately, and no other way.
However, that isn’t always the way that Jesus’s peace works. I was recently talking to a friend who has had a rough year. Nothing has seemed to go the way she and her family had planned. Yet now, even with the midst of the storm still going on, she was able to say that Christ has been with her. In fact, if things would have went her way, then she would probably be even worse off then she could imagine. For her the peace of Christ was recognizing his presence in the fact that things didn’t go her way, and didn’t go her way for a reason far beyond her understanding. 
Often we read what happens next as Jesus accusing the disciples of not having faith, but what if instead Jesus is asking them, where is your faith located? Is it truly with me? The one who can calm the wind and the waves. The one who has perfect ways and perfect timing? Are you with me, even when the storms of life are raging, or are you swept away? Are you in awe and wonder of me because of what I have done or because you know who I am? 
Friends, the hope is this story is not located in the storm that no one wanted to be in. The hope is located in Jesus. Do we have confidence in the power and authority of Christ, even when the storms come rolling in? And in the midst of the storm, do we know who to cry out to? 
It is so easy for us to get caught up and lost in the storm, even as the church. And when our eyes get focused on the wind and the waves, it is hard for us to declare the hope in this passage and in our lives, even as the church. What storms are you facing in your life today? And do we proclaim more about the storm then about the Master over them? Let us cry out, again, O Church, to Jesus. Amen. 





Sunday, June 3, 2018

“Life Together: Communion and Confession” 1 Cor 11: 23-26

I am a big fan of going to the movies. One of my favorite movies I saw this year was The Greatest Showman which told the story of P.T. Barnum, who was the founder of the Barnum and Bailey Circus. But I also have a hard time just watching movies - often when I’m sitting there I find myself saying “This will preach” and brothers and sisters, parts of that movie will preach. 
As Barnum was first setting up his museum of oddities, it was mostly wax figures and an utter failure. Later, he had the idea to invite people who were outcasts in society to be part of the show, playing up their oddities, and forming a family in the process. 
There is one particular scene where Barnum was trying to make himself acceptable to high society by inviting a famous singer to come to America and perform. When he was asked where his circus family could sit for the performance, he stuttered and stumble, trying to figure out the best place to hide them so they wouldn’t be seen by the high society folks. When they came in after the performance to meet the singer they were shooed away. Until they came right into the middle of everyone, singing about their pain, before they proclaim “ And I know that I deserve your love.” 
This wasn’t the only time that the circus family were mistreated - in fact, there were protestors outside of the circus telling them to go home. But in the scenes where they found themselves being unwelcome - be it by the protestors or the high society folks or even Barnum himself, I found myself wondering a very hard but powerful question - who is it that we turn away and are not welcome amongst us as the church?
Paul was deeply struggling with the church in Corinth. They were quite frankly not behaving as the church. A little bit of background - communion in the early church was not celebrate necessarily as it is today - as part of the service. Instead, they would learn from one other, in homes, and share a meal together at the end, what we would call an agape meal, where they share of their bounty and remember the Lord Jesus. It was in this context of the shared meal that the Eucharist would be celebrated.
Except in Corinth your place at the agape meal was quickly boiling down to who you knew and what you had in terms of wealth. Those who had less were relegated to eating last if there was anything to be had at all. So much for a meal to celebrate the love and abundance of God. People were being shooed away from the table of God because they were being told that they weren’t good enough. As if they were being told through the actions of the church that they didn’t know the right people or have enough wealth to be present. 
I can hear the mutterings - but Pastor Michelle. We don’t do anything like that. We welcome everyone. On the surface that may be true - but I have to ask - do we really? When people come as guests to the church do we go out of our way to get to know their names, or is it weeks before we introduce ourselves or get to know them? When people come with young children, do we wish the children would be quite or do we realize that the giggles and cries of children are the life blood of our congregation? Do we tell people to come as they are - or do we really mean that they need to get their act together - acting like we do and understanding church rituals - before they are welcome? 
Paul is urging the Church in Corinth to open themselves up to truly be a welcoming congregation, by remembering. Paul tells them about the tradition from the Lord - around the celebration of Holy Communion, because quite frankly they had forgotten. These are folks who were rooted in remembering - but they had made it all about them. They heard the words “this is the body of Christ broken for you” and took it to be singular. Only them. And it led to incredibly selfish and harmful behaviors.
Recently, a fellow pastor posted the following statement about the church on his facebook page: “No one should feel more welcome in your church than the screaming baby, hormonal kid, or defiant teenager” Is that true for us church? Or do we want everyone to behave a certain way so we can get something out of the service, instead of seeing the service as a place where grace is poured out for all - no matter what you may be going through.
There is a tradition that we sometimes don’t follow when we celebrate Holy Communion - the part of the liturgy where we confess our sins before God and one another. While I understand why this is often glazed over - maybe we need a good time of confession again church. And not the time of confession, where we tell other people how they hav sinned, but instead on where we confess when we didn’t really act as the church. Weren’t welcoming to the stranger. Weren’t open to the new mom with the screaming baby or the person sitting in our seat. The times where we may not have said “go home and get it together before you come back” but sure acted like. 
I think part of remembering isn’t just remembering the story of Jesus that we celebrate during Holy Communion - how he gathered his disciples together and celebrated this holy mystery and gift of a meal with them, which we continue to celebrate as a church until he comes again. I think Holy Communion is also an invitation to each of us to remember as well. To remember what it means to be the Church of Jesus Christ. To remember a time when we were a stranger and someone welcomed us. And to remember that we, too, are a sinner saved by grace. Sometimes just like the prayer of confession is glazed over, so is the fact, brothers and sisters, that we are all sinners. Every single one of us. 
The church in Corinth didn’t find themselves abusing the communion table over night. It started as the root of all sin does with pride - thinking that they were better than the person next to them. And because they thought they were better they didn’t think that their sin was as bad, so of course they were more welcome at the table. Dietrich Bohnhoffer points out that the more isolated we are the more power sin has over us, and the more we become involved in sin, the more isolated we become. 

Friends, it is time that we come before God and confess. Confess the times we have acted like the church in Corinth. The times pride has tricked us into thinking our sin isn’t as bad as our neighbors. Let us confess, and then open ourselves up to the transformation that can come by remembering who we are - as the people who hunger and thirst for true communion with God and with one another. Amen.