Here's the link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, January 31st, 2010. Luke's offering of this story BEFORE the calling of the first disciples (which we'll hear next week) shouldn't allow us to think that the disciples didn't know what they were getting into!
http://www.box.net/shared/2g187nq93x
As always, thanks for checking it out.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The text of my sermon--at least the starting point--for my sermon from Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time; January 17, 2010 Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Nehemiah 8: 1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12: 12-31a
Luke 4: 14-21 *
--} More often than not, we treat Jesus’ words in today’s gospel lesson as a kind of “inaugural address” for his ministry. Having won the election—so to speak—Jesus turns to the initial proclamation of what his ministry is supposed to be about. It’s important, too, to recognize that like any election campaign, the “Inaugural” is hardly the first words we’ve heard spoken by the candidate—suddenly newly installed into office.
Luke tells us that following his baptism, Jesus returns to Galilee “filled with the power of the Spirit” and that “a report spread about him through all the surrounding country;” that Jesus began to “teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.” Then Jesus comes to his hometown, Nazareth—where he grew up; and Luke invites us into one of these revelatory moments.
“What?!”
Oh, of course we agree in principle. It’s just that we like to see ourselves as “recipients” rather than the ones “anointed to carry the message to others.” We look at ourselves, as if we were the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed. We look at ourselves as if we weren’t participants in “hopelessness” for so many in the world today. Our lives are shaped predominantly by our capitalist ideals—more is better, “have it your way,” get the cake and eat it too, bigger, stronger, faster, better. And Jesus’ words challenge all of these presuppositions.
Ask people what makes for a “good church” and I’ll venture that “most people” identify churches that have high attendance numbers, a big budget, a newer building, maybe even the churches that do mission projects and help others. But my guess is that few people would use this list of “campaign goals” offered up by Jesus. Jesus’ prophetic voice challenges many of the values you and I are taught and believe in. We simply don’t demonstrate very well the “fulfillment” of Jesus’ words—as astonishing as that may sound.
I mean who, really, is against good news for the poor, or release for the captive, or recovery of sight for the blind, or letting the oppressed go free? And it turns out… we are. We may wring our hands about what’s happened in Haiti; we may even have recognized that some of the horrific pictures look a lot like those pictures from New Orleans a few years back. We may wring our hands that something needed to have been done for Haiti to diminish the suffering BEFORE the earthquakes—but we did very little to advocate or ensure that would happen.
It’s like we’re concerned in Des Moines about those make-shift homeless shelters down by the river when we watch one of them burn because of an accident. We may believe that kind of living is truly dangerous. But that hasn’t usually led us to donate enough “more” money to the cause to help make a difference—to provide real shelter for those who need it.
In the great health-care debate, I can’t count how many times I’ve heard people say, “I don’t want to have to pay for smokers,” or “I don’t want to have to pay for obese people;” something to the effect of, “it just isn’t fair that I have to pay for someone else’s careless treatment of their bodies”—as if not smoking or not being overweight solves every health-care problem. And as a result, afraid of having to pay too much, we pay exponentially more because of catastrophic illness among those who have no ability to pay for the treatment we believe hospitals are obligated to offer. No one can tell us, really, how much that costs us!
My point is not simply: “take from the rich to give to the poor”—far from it! Jesus simply reminds the world that his anointing is directed at particular folks—those who are poor, oppressed, blind, and captive. And their “good news” is supposed to be good news for everyone—good news for all. It’s not simply about money changing hands; it’s about setting things right.
One of the stories we heard in the Holy Land came from Bishop Elias Chacour. Rather than think we are invited to simply focus on who has the money and redistributing it, Chacour offered through this story that human dignity was a far more compelling goal.
Someone shared with me earlier this week that Americans don’t know about poverty. “Poverty” for most of us is when you don’t have enough money and you have to rely on the food pantry, special assistance, or welfare. “Poverty” is when someone else needs to provide a “hand-out.” True “poverty,” however, is when there is no help to turn to—there’s just nothing.
Listen again to what Jesus proclaims:
NO! That isn’t what Jesus is saying at all! Jesus is saying that “he” has been anointed. Jesus is saying that this—TOO—is what the Church is called to be, right? Good news to the poor; release to the captives; recovery of sight for the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Not what the Church gets, but what the Church is called to “hand-out” if you will. And thereby, it’s Jesus who challenges all of our values of our own success.
What if, instead of ordaining folks to balance the Church budget, we sought to ordain people to be leaders in ministry? What if, instead of just inviting people to give a few dollars toward a special cause, we sent people to make a difference—handing out food, building new homes. What if, instead of just expecting members to come to worship, we expected them to share worship experiences with others. What if, rather than expecting gifts to be shared with us—what if we saw ourselves as anointed, too?
What if we saw ourselves as “anointed,” too? And rather than being the “receivers” of the blessings of richness, what if we could be the providers of God’s kingdom promises?
Because Jesus says, “today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Hear the difference?
--+ AMEN.
Texts: Nehemiah 8: 1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12: 12-31a
Luke 4: 14-21 *
“Jesus: Enfleshment of the Prophets’ Voice”
--} More often than not, we treat Jesus’ words in today’s gospel lesson as a kind of “inaugural address” for his ministry. Having won the election—so to speak—Jesus turns to the initial proclamation of what his ministry is supposed to be about. It’s important, too, to recognize that like any election campaign, the “Inaugural” is hardly the first words we’ve heard spoken by the candidate—suddenly newly installed into office.
Luke tells us that following his baptism, Jesus returns to Galilee “filled with the power of the Spirit” and that “a report spread about him through all the surrounding country;” that Jesus began to “teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.” Then Jesus comes to his hometown, Nazareth—where he grew up; and Luke invites us into one of these revelatory moments.
These were incredibly prophetic words. Like any good candidate on the campaign trail, Jesus knows how to dish out hope and prosperity. And more than just empty campaign promises, we’ve come to see Jesus as throwing down the gauntlet—as if to say, “THIS” is what the Kingdom of God is all about—good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight for the blind, the oppressed going free, the year of the Lord’s favor!” Who could disagree with these words, these terms, these ideals? But you’ll be shocked and surprised when I say, “We do!”[Jesus] went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down.
“What?!”
Oh, of course we agree in principle. It’s just that we like to see ourselves as “recipients” rather than the ones “anointed to carry the message to others.” We look at ourselves, as if we were the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed. We look at ourselves as if we weren’t participants in “hopelessness” for so many in the world today. Our lives are shaped predominantly by our capitalist ideals—more is better, “have it your way,” get the cake and eat it too, bigger, stronger, faster, better. And Jesus’ words challenge all of these presuppositions.
Ask people what makes for a “good church” and I’ll venture that “most people” identify churches that have high attendance numbers, a big budget, a newer building, maybe even the churches that do mission projects and help others. But my guess is that few people would use this list of “campaign goals” offered up by Jesus. Jesus’ prophetic voice challenges many of the values you and I are taught and believe in. We simply don’t demonstrate very well the “fulfillment” of Jesus’ words—as astonishing as that may sound.
I mean who, really, is against good news for the poor, or release for the captive, or recovery of sight for the blind, or letting the oppressed go free? And it turns out… we are. We may wring our hands about what’s happened in Haiti; we may even have recognized that some of the horrific pictures look a lot like those pictures from New Orleans a few years back. We may wring our hands that something needed to have been done for Haiti to diminish the suffering BEFORE the earthquakes—but we did very little to advocate or ensure that would happen.
It’s like we’re concerned in Des Moines about those make-shift homeless shelters down by the river when we watch one of them burn because of an accident. We may believe that kind of living is truly dangerous. But that hasn’t usually led us to donate enough “more” money to the cause to help make a difference—to provide real shelter for those who need it.
In the great health-care debate, I can’t count how many times I’ve heard people say, “I don’t want to have to pay for smokers,” or “I don’t want to have to pay for obese people;” something to the effect of, “it just isn’t fair that I have to pay for someone else’s careless treatment of their bodies”—as if not smoking or not being overweight solves every health-care problem. And as a result, afraid of having to pay too much, we pay exponentially more because of catastrophic illness among those who have no ability to pay for the treatment we believe hospitals are obligated to offer. No one can tell us, really, how much that costs us!
My point is not simply: “take from the rich to give to the poor”—far from it! Jesus simply reminds the world that his anointing is directed at particular folks—those who are poor, oppressed, blind, and captive. And their “good news” is supposed to be good news for everyone—good news for all. It’s not simply about money changing hands; it’s about setting things right.
One of the stories we heard in the Holy Land came from Bishop Elias Chacour. Rather than think we are invited to simply focus on who has the money and redistributing it, Chacour offered through this story that human dignity was a far more compelling goal.
An older Palestinian man and his son were traveling with their donkey when they encountered an Israeli soldier at a checkpoint. The soldier, much younger than the elder man, decided that he was going to have some fun; and in addition to checking over their travel papers, he ordered the elder man to get off the donkey. When the elder man had complied, the soldier asked him to then kiss the backside of the donkey. Simply put, this is an insult; any of us would understand. The elder man refused. So the solider “encouraged the man’s compliance” by hitting him in the stomach and across the head with the butt of his rifle. Still, the elder man refused to be insulted. So the elder man’s son watched as the soldier hit and beat the man until he was injured, bleeding and near death; and in an attempt to end the suffering, the elder man chooses to kiss the backside of the donkey. And the soldier erupts in laughter.
The elder man’s son was watching, of course. He witnessed not just his father being beaten, but having every shred of dignity taken from him. He’s left to take his father home, but has lost all respect for him. And seeing that there is no hope of ever escaping, “held captive” now by hopelessness, the son chooses to do the only thing he believes can make a difference. So the next day, he straps explosives close to his body, passes through the same checkpoint alone, proceeds to the nearest market and blows himself up—trying to kill as many people as he can.
Someone shared with me earlier this week that Americans don’t know about poverty. “Poverty” for most of us is when you don’t have enough money and you have to rely on the food pantry, special assistance, or welfare. “Poverty” is when someone else needs to provide a “hand-out.” True “poverty,” however, is when there is no help to turn to—there’s just nothing.
Listen again to what Jesus proclaims:
Isn’t Jesus saying there’s help for those who have no hope? Isn’t Jesus saying that where there are economic discrepancies, there’s help? Isn’t Jesus saying that where people are held captive or imprisoned, there’s hope of something different? Isn’t Jesus saying that when people are “blind” to the possibilities of safe-keeping and loving-kindness, the Kingdom of God takes up for them?“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
NO! That isn’t what Jesus is saying at all! Jesus is saying that “he” has been anointed. Jesus is saying that this—TOO—is what the Church is called to be, right? Good news to the poor; release to the captives; recovery of sight for the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Not what the Church gets, but what the Church is called to “hand-out” if you will. And thereby, it’s Jesus who challenges all of our values of our own success.
What if, instead of ordaining folks to balance the Church budget, we sought to ordain people to be leaders in ministry? What if, instead of just inviting people to give a few dollars toward a special cause, we sent people to make a difference—handing out food, building new homes. What if, instead of just expecting members to come to worship, we expected them to share worship experiences with others. What if, rather than expecting gifts to be shared with us—what if we saw ourselves as anointed, too?
What if we saw ourselves as “anointed,” too? And rather than being the “receivers” of the blessings of richness, what if we could be the providers of God’s kingdom promises?
Because Jesus says, “today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Hear the difference?
--+ AMEN.
Link to the audio file for my sermon from January 24th
Here's the link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, January 24th, 2010:
http://www.box.net/shared/e8o9xressk
As always, thank for checking it out.
http://www.box.net/shared/e8o9xressk
As always, thank for checking it out.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Text of my sermon from Sunday, January 17th, 2010
The Second Sunday in Ordinary Time; January 17, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Isaiah 62: 1-5
Psalm 36: 5-10
1 Corinthians 12: 1-11
John 2: 1-11 *
--} I’m told that the story of Jesus turning water to wine in John’s Gospel is one of the best-known and remembered stories in all of scripture. I’m really kind of puzzled as to why that is exactly! But despite its well-known-ness, there are definitely things about this story’s context that we can’t ever know—that are deeply important to our understanding it fully. WE are not 1st Century Galileans, after all; and the “way we’ve always heard the story” probably bears some correcting.
On my recent pilgrimage, while we were in Galilee we passed through Cana—so I know where it is between Nazareth (in the mountains) and Capernaum (along the Sea of Galilee)—and I know two things about it. First, at a souvenir store we passed I was certain there was a large display of “bottled water” re-labeled as “do-it-yourself-first-miracle kits;” and second, that weddings were not insignificant 1st Century gatherings. I know that not because of the association with Cana, but simply that “weddings” had an impact on the local economy—particularly those who were trying to get married and particularly those who were religious. We 21st Century Christians are usually not aware that 1st Century grooms were required to pay a “bride-price;” and this interfered greatly with religious obligation, since religious Israelites were asked to make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Such endeavors were expensive, and a common day’s wage provided little more than basic sustenance. To pay a bride-price, a man often worked 7, 10 or 12 years—to save up enough money; and it was much longer if he kept up with the annual pilgrimages.
So I come to this passage today wondering not about what it says or means allegorically—which is how we usually tell it or explain it—but considering what this story might seriously have in common with our own.
Whether in 1st Century or 21st Century numbers—weddings are expensive. The Internet tells me that the average wedding budget in our country is somewhere around $20,000 (not including the engagement and wedding rings AND the honeymoon), and also that the typical wedding celebration comes in on average nearly 50% OVER BUDGET! But don’t you ever wonder why people are willing to invest so much in a wedding? I mean thirty-grand is a good bit of cash; and in a world where you BORROW for the house, the car, and whatever else—before you get a first paycheck—this seems strange.
But I think 1st century and 21st century weddings have something in common we might often discard—they’re also about hospitality. Demonstrating generosity to friends and neighbors is always in style—and sometimes we forget that. The stories we heard in Israel were about the necessity to treat all your guests (even despised enemies) with great generosity, because that’s how you wanted to be treated when it was your turn to be the guest. It raises the stakes for “running out of wine” in John’s 1st Century story, where our 21st Century experience of the “cash bar” an Airport Hilton is different. And in our century, where the temptation is perhaps to try and get by with the least expense, or to hold our generosity “in check” or at least keep it “within budget,” the first century response would have been just the opposite—spend everything you can in order to offer someone else the greatest and the best—which is exactly what Jesus does!.
The “values” of Jesus can seem very much at odds with our human values—1st Century or 21st Century. In the story, when the wine “gives out,” Jesus simply “GIVES” another—at least—120 more gallons—for free. While this might be appreciated, the “custom” is to provide a nice wine to start the part with, then as people are less able to distinguish, to replace “the good wine” with “inferior wine;” yet Jesus insists that the “best wine” be offered last. In the face of “scarcity” Jesus demonstrates not only God’s abundance, but the principle of being generous with it. And in the face of religious prudence, used to limit and separate, Jesus insists on making way for genuine joy that is un-conflicted with religious commitment. Jesus shows us the values of the Kingdom of God revealed in generous abundance—not always the values we are willing to so easily demonstrate, eh?
In John’s story, when the mother of Jesus discovers that the “wine had given out,” she turns to Jesus saying, “they have no wine.” Jesus is quick to respond, “of what concern is that to us—my hour has not yet come.” Still, in our world, when we walk into a wedding celebration and discover, “it’s a cash bar,” we don’t immediately feel obligated to “help” by offering to pay the bar tab for everyone, right? We don’t want to have to be “that generous”—right? But his hour or not, Jesus becomes the demonstration of God’s generousness. He intervenes. He gives. People receive. And maybe they don’t even know it. Demonstrating generosity to friends is always in style—even if it goes against the cultural grain!
Still, the point of John’s story seems to be for the “glory” of Jesus to be revealed. Verse 11: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” And while the audience seems limited to the disciples, Jesus’ mother, and the servants—who alone know what Jesus does—John’s point remains intentionally about “revealing” Jesus to his readers as the generousness of God inhabiting human life. It’s not that we walk away from this story simply believing that Jesus can turn water into wine; it’s that we walk away from this story with a demonstration of what it means for God’s generosity to be handed out—even in an age when that seems to have an increasingly scandalous edge.
Meeting God at a wedding banquet is one thing, but our world—our lives—are paralyzed by the scars of disasters of all sorts, personal, corporate, natural and human made. If this story is about meeting God in Christ at the banquet party, part of our question isn’t about getting another 120 gallons of wine when our supply has run out, but where is God in OUR HOUR of greatest need? Isn’t it? Oh we need more than wine, don’t we?
In the face of what’s happened in Haiti, many perhaps are asking, “what can I do? I have my own problems; I can’t be responsible for everyone.” And while the declaration may be mostly true, we also know it’s not a faith-filled response. My seminary colleage, James Sledge commented in his weblog this week, “sometimes the best we can do when encountering terrible circumstances is to stop trying to determine their cause [or whose fault it is] and start trying to help.” Jesus knew—either someone didn’t plan well enough for the wine, or they couldn’t afford enough. But rather than let shortfall become a ruination, he seized the opportunity to reveal himself as God-with-us. Like Jesus will say about the man born blind, no “sin,” no “evil” caused this; it exists as an opportunity to reveal God’s works. Finding “fault” or placing “blame” does nothing to resolve a crisis—no matter what it is. Resolving the crisis begins when we can agree to pitch in and help.
Whether Jesus wanted to or not, whether he knew the answer or whose fault it was, he was in the position of revealing God’s generousness among human beings. He saves the day, not because a wedding needed more wine, but because we see that the world both needs and HAS an over-abundant infusion of God’s generous care and concern.
Surely it’s not just the “good wine” that we are supposed to remember from this story, but also the values Jesus intends to share with us. It shouldn’t be lost that the religious “water of purification” becomes a source of “new wine,” and that “generousness” goes a long way in helping solve problems. That even religious rules can be replaced by the serendipitous joy of God’s kingdom being present among us in Jesus Christ—as Jesus takes water used for outward appearance and makes it a sign of inward habitation. And the wedding custom that’s all about the celebration and providing the “best” for one’s neighbors and friends is turned into a gathering where the best wine comes out last, where “what is to come” bears more significance than even what has been.
In a few minutes, we have the opportunity to face our fear of “scarcity” with the promise of “God’s abundance.” Part of our gathering at the end of our annual meeting will be to discuss our own financial woes—our own “wine” giving out—and even our own embarrassment at “not having enough.” And John’s story shouldn’t be used to say, “all we have to do is believe in Jesus and he’ll give us what we need.” Rather, I think very much like the kitchen servants in the story, is for us to pay attention to what Jesus tells us. The mother of Jesus says, “Do whatever he tells you.” And what’s different in the 21st Century is that while we believe Jesus “is with us,” we have to be discerning together about what Jesus is “telling us to do”—and then be intentional about doing it.
And because this story isn’t’ just about believing Jesus can turn water to wine, but that Jesus reveals the generousness of God being with us.—we should see circumstances being “turned” from what we don’t have, to what we do have. We should see Jesus’ invitation not as hope in a particular ability, but as God’s eternal investment in human beings. We should see that the “wedding gift” is a promise of abundant, life-giving generosity worth celebrating, even if the wine appears to have given out.
In the face of scarcity (ours or others, or both!), we’re called to help; in the face of little, we are called to be generous, too—not because we can or because we “should;” but because Jesus tells us that WE ALSO are the opportunity to reveal the generousness of God. And—demonstrating the generosity of God is always in style!
--+ AMEN.
* Special thanks to my seminary colleague James Sledge, whose weblog discussion this week offeed one of the directions I took in the sermon.
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Isaiah 62: 1-5
Psalm 36: 5-10
1 Corinthians 12: 1-11
John 2: 1-11 *
“Jesus: Demonstrating Generosity”
--} I’m told that the story of Jesus turning water to wine in John’s Gospel is one of the best-known and remembered stories in all of scripture. I’m really kind of puzzled as to why that is exactly! But despite its well-known-ness, there are definitely things about this story’s context that we can’t ever know—that are deeply important to our understanding it fully. WE are not 1st Century Galileans, after all; and the “way we’ve always heard the story” probably bears some correcting.
On my recent pilgrimage, while we were in Galilee we passed through Cana—so I know where it is between Nazareth (in the mountains) and Capernaum (along the Sea of Galilee)—and I know two things about it. First, at a souvenir store we passed I was certain there was a large display of “bottled water” re-labeled as “do-it-yourself-first-miracle kits;” and second, that weddings were not insignificant 1st Century gatherings. I know that not because of the association with Cana, but simply that “weddings” had an impact on the local economy—particularly those who were trying to get married and particularly those who were religious. We 21st Century Christians are usually not aware that 1st Century grooms were required to pay a “bride-price;” and this interfered greatly with religious obligation, since religious Israelites were asked to make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Such endeavors were expensive, and a common day’s wage provided little more than basic sustenance. To pay a bride-price, a man often worked 7, 10 or 12 years—to save up enough money; and it was much longer if he kept up with the annual pilgrimages.
So I come to this passage today wondering not about what it says or means allegorically—which is how we usually tell it or explain it—but considering what this story might seriously have in common with our own.
Whether in 1st Century or 21st Century numbers—weddings are expensive. The Internet tells me that the average wedding budget in our country is somewhere around $20,000 (not including the engagement and wedding rings AND the honeymoon), and also that the typical wedding celebration comes in on average nearly 50% OVER BUDGET! But don’t you ever wonder why people are willing to invest so much in a wedding? I mean thirty-grand is a good bit of cash; and in a world where you BORROW for the house, the car, and whatever else—before you get a first paycheck—this seems strange.
But I think 1st century and 21st century weddings have something in common we might often discard—they’re also about hospitality. Demonstrating generosity to friends and neighbors is always in style—and sometimes we forget that. The stories we heard in Israel were about the necessity to treat all your guests (even despised enemies) with great generosity, because that’s how you wanted to be treated when it was your turn to be the guest. It raises the stakes for “running out of wine” in John’s 1st Century story, where our 21st Century experience of the “cash bar” an Airport Hilton is different. And in our century, where the temptation is perhaps to try and get by with the least expense, or to hold our generosity “in check” or at least keep it “within budget,” the first century response would have been just the opposite—spend everything you can in order to offer someone else the greatest and the best—which is exactly what Jesus does!.
The “values” of Jesus can seem very much at odds with our human values—1st Century or 21st Century. In the story, when the wine “gives out,” Jesus simply “GIVES” another—at least—120 more gallons—for free. While this might be appreciated, the “custom” is to provide a nice wine to start the part with, then as people are less able to distinguish, to replace “the good wine” with “inferior wine;” yet Jesus insists that the “best wine” be offered last. In the face of “scarcity” Jesus demonstrates not only God’s abundance, but the principle of being generous with it. And in the face of religious prudence, used to limit and separate, Jesus insists on making way for genuine joy that is un-conflicted with religious commitment. Jesus shows us the values of the Kingdom of God revealed in generous abundance—not always the values we are willing to so easily demonstrate, eh?
In John’s story, when the mother of Jesus discovers that the “wine had given out,” she turns to Jesus saying, “they have no wine.” Jesus is quick to respond, “of what concern is that to us—my hour has not yet come.” Still, in our world, when we walk into a wedding celebration and discover, “it’s a cash bar,” we don’t immediately feel obligated to “help” by offering to pay the bar tab for everyone, right? We don’t want to have to be “that generous”—right? But his hour or not, Jesus becomes the demonstration of God’s generousness. He intervenes. He gives. People receive. And maybe they don’t even know it. Demonstrating generosity to friends is always in style—even if it goes against the cultural grain!
Still, the point of John’s story seems to be for the “glory” of Jesus to be revealed. Verse 11: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” And while the audience seems limited to the disciples, Jesus’ mother, and the servants—who alone know what Jesus does—John’s point remains intentionally about “revealing” Jesus to his readers as the generousness of God inhabiting human life. It’s not that we walk away from this story simply believing that Jesus can turn water into wine; it’s that we walk away from this story with a demonstration of what it means for God’s generosity to be handed out—even in an age when that seems to have an increasingly scandalous edge.
Meeting God at a wedding banquet is one thing, but our world—our lives—are paralyzed by the scars of disasters of all sorts, personal, corporate, natural and human made. If this story is about meeting God in Christ at the banquet party, part of our question isn’t about getting another 120 gallons of wine when our supply has run out, but where is God in OUR HOUR of greatest need? Isn’t it? Oh we need more than wine, don’t we?
In the face of what’s happened in Haiti, many perhaps are asking, “what can I do? I have my own problems; I can’t be responsible for everyone.” And while the declaration may be mostly true, we also know it’s not a faith-filled response. My seminary colleage, James Sledge commented in his weblog this week, “sometimes the best we can do when encountering terrible circumstances is to stop trying to determine their cause [or whose fault it is] and start trying to help.” Jesus knew—either someone didn’t plan well enough for the wine, or they couldn’t afford enough. But rather than let shortfall become a ruination, he seized the opportunity to reveal himself as God-with-us. Like Jesus will say about the man born blind, no “sin,” no “evil” caused this; it exists as an opportunity to reveal God’s works. Finding “fault” or placing “blame” does nothing to resolve a crisis—no matter what it is. Resolving the crisis begins when we can agree to pitch in and help.
Whether Jesus wanted to or not, whether he knew the answer or whose fault it was, he was in the position of revealing God’s generousness among human beings. He saves the day, not because a wedding needed more wine, but because we see that the world both needs and HAS an over-abundant infusion of God’s generous care and concern.
Surely it’s not just the “good wine” that we are supposed to remember from this story, but also the values Jesus intends to share with us. It shouldn’t be lost that the religious “water of purification” becomes a source of “new wine,” and that “generousness” goes a long way in helping solve problems. That even religious rules can be replaced by the serendipitous joy of God’s kingdom being present among us in Jesus Christ—as Jesus takes water used for outward appearance and makes it a sign of inward habitation. And the wedding custom that’s all about the celebration and providing the “best” for one’s neighbors and friends is turned into a gathering where the best wine comes out last, where “what is to come” bears more significance than even what has been.
In a few minutes, we have the opportunity to face our fear of “scarcity” with the promise of “God’s abundance.” Part of our gathering at the end of our annual meeting will be to discuss our own financial woes—our own “wine” giving out—and even our own embarrassment at “not having enough.” And John’s story shouldn’t be used to say, “all we have to do is believe in Jesus and he’ll give us what we need.” Rather, I think very much like the kitchen servants in the story, is for us to pay attention to what Jesus tells us. The mother of Jesus says, “Do whatever he tells you.” And what’s different in the 21st Century is that while we believe Jesus “is with us,” we have to be discerning together about what Jesus is “telling us to do”—and then be intentional about doing it.
And because this story isn’t’ just about believing Jesus can turn water to wine, but that Jesus reveals the generousness of God being with us.—we should see circumstances being “turned” from what we don’t have, to what we do have. We should see Jesus’ invitation not as hope in a particular ability, but as God’s eternal investment in human beings. We should see that the “wedding gift” is a promise of abundant, life-giving generosity worth celebrating, even if the wine appears to have given out.
In the face of scarcity (ours or others, or both!), we’re called to help; in the face of little, we are called to be generous, too—not because we can or because we “should;” but because Jesus tells us that WE ALSO are the opportunity to reveal the generousness of God. And—demonstrating the generosity of God is always in style!
--+ AMEN.
* Special thanks to my seminary colleague James Sledge, whose weblog discussion this week offeed one of the directions I took in the sermon.
Link to the audio file for my sermon from January 17th
Here's the link to my sermon from Sunday, January 17th, 2010. The "context" for the sermon was the question, "what do we do about Haiti" as well as our annual congregational meeting at which we were set to face difficult budget concerns. The approach was situational, but has broader implications.
Here's the link: http://www.box.net/shared/ox9e8g0jto
As always, thank for checking it out.
Here's the link: http://www.box.net/shared/ox9e8g0jto
As always, thank for checking it out.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Text of my Sermon from Sunday, January 10th
The Baptism of the Lord; January 10, 2010
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Isaiah 43: 1-7
Psalm 29
Acts 8: 14-17
Luke 3: 15-17, 21-22 *
--} It’s a short walk from “baptism” to “commissioning.” Luke’s version of Jesus’ baptism is perhaps the briefest of an already “extremely concise” story—two verses, barely three3 lines of text: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
There are no details about “how” this particular baptism happens—just that it does happen. And while Luke is not alone in this regard—neither Matthew nor Mark has much more to add, other than Jesus coming up out of the water—according to the gospels “this” becomes the pivotal moment and the “event,” that launches Jesus’ ministry.
These two things are readily apparent for us in this morning’s celebration: first, Jesus is baptized—becoming our model for baptism marking the beginning of our spiritual journey; and second, that it’s Jesus’ baptism that becomes the launch-point for his ministry. So that as we come today to remember our baptisms and reaffirm them, we too, may be reminded that our spiritual journey’s have already begun and we, too, have been sent forth to do ministry.
Since often we Presbyterians are noted for practicing “infant baptism” and it may not seem to us that an infant a few days or a few weeks old can be literally “launched immediately into ministry,” perhaps we would do well to declare that “remembering” and “reaffirming” our baptismal vows is significantly-essential for us as adults. Baptism is no “rite of passage,” no “one and done,” kind of celebration. Instead, it is the celebration of God’s claim upon our lives that always and forever marks God’s people. And every chance we have to remember and reaffirm our baptisms opens new possibilities of being renewed in God’s call. Remember our baptisms declare again and again the fundamental reality that “we belong to God.”
“Commissioning” is a different but related moment. We often “commission” to specific acts of ministry; for example, we “commission” Sunday School teachers, missionaries, and most recently, our congregation “commissioned me” for a trip to the Holy Land. “Commissioning” is an act of celebration recognizing a person’s call to an act or acts of ministry. Commissioning, like Jesus’ ministry, follows one’s baptism. And while baptism is God’s claim upon our lives; “commissioning” is our recognition of that claim and God’s call to us in particular forms of serving. Ordination, too, follows baptism. All of us are baptized as church members; we may not all be particularly “commissioned;” just like all of us may be church members, but only some of us are called and ordained as officers. But today, I’d like us to celebrate not only God’s claim but our “call” to service as God’s faithful people. And I want to return a blessing.
Several people have asked me about “commissioning.” “Why do I want to ‘commission’ everyone? Aren’t we already commissioned?” [That might even be a good ordination exam question!] And the truth is, there may not be much in the way of a “special” reason for commissioning the whole congregation to Christian duty or Christian service. One could argue, we don’t have a specific form of service like Sunday School teacher or traveling preacher.
But the touch-point I want to offer you and I this morning is that as we are remembering our baptisms and ordaining and installing new officers, we are still called to Christian service and we ought to be thinking about that and considering it—all of us. Maybe that ministry takes place in the form of helping others—like buying food for the food pantry or giving away last year’s coat for people who can’t afford one, or dropping a donation in the red kettle. Maybe that ministry takes place in volunteering to prepare a meal, or funding a meal at places like Door of Faith, or making sure that CROSS ministries has enough funds with rent or utilities assistance. Or maybe, that ministry takes place in reaching out to friends and neighbors and discovering the “needs” present in our own neighborhoods, and reminding fellow church-members about how we can help.
Commissioning—for this day—is a way to remind us that we are all “set apart” for special service. God has claimed us, we have professed that faith, and what needs to happen next is not just “membership” in our congregation, or “ordination” as an officer, but a genuine serving of one another—within and outside our church walls.
So today we let our “light” shine—celebrating not only Jesus’ baptism, but our own; remembering that we are claimed by God and called by God to particular forms of service. Church members and Church Officers? Yes. But also, that our form of believing means doing and sharing as we believe. Loving God, and loving one another. Commissioned by faith, in hope, for love.
--+ AMEN.
Park Avenue Presbyterian Church; Des Moines, Iowa
Texts: Isaiah 43: 1-7
Psalm 29
Acts 8: 14-17
Luke 3: 15-17, 21-22 *
“Commissioning By Faith, in Hope, For Love”
--} It’s a short walk from “baptism” to “commissioning.” Luke’s version of Jesus’ baptism is perhaps the briefest of an already “extremely concise” story—two verses, barely three3 lines of text: “Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
There are no details about “how” this particular baptism happens—just that it does happen. And while Luke is not alone in this regard—neither Matthew nor Mark has much more to add, other than Jesus coming up out of the water—according to the gospels “this” becomes the pivotal moment and the “event,” that launches Jesus’ ministry.
These two things are readily apparent for us in this morning’s celebration: first, Jesus is baptized—becoming our model for baptism marking the beginning of our spiritual journey; and second, that it’s Jesus’ baptism that becomes the launch-point for his ministry. So that as we come today to remember our baptisms and reaffirm them, we too, may be reminded that our spiritual journey’s have already begun and we, too, have been sent forth to do ministry.
Since often we Presbyterians are noted for practicing “infant baptism” and it may not seem to us that an infant a few days or a few weeks old can be literally “launched immediately into ministry,” perhaps we would do well to declare that “remembering” and “reaffirming” our baptismal vows is significantly-essential for us as adults. Baptism is no “rite of passage,” no “one and done,” kind of celebration. Instead, it is the celebration of God’s claim upon our lives that always and forever marks God’s people. And every chance we have to remember and reaffirm our baptisms opens new possibilities of being renewed in God’s call. Remember our baptisms declare again and again the fundamental reality that “we belong to God.”
“Commissioning” is a different but related moment. We often “commission” to specific acts of ministry; for example, we “commission” Sunday School teachers, missionaries, and most recently, our congregation “commissioned me” for a trip to the Holy Land. “Commissioning” is an act of celebration recognizing a person’s call to an act or acts of ministry. Commissioning, like Jesus’ ministry, follows one’s baptism. And while baptism is God’s claim upon our lives; “commissioning” is our recognition of that claim and God’s call to us in particular forms of serving. Ordination, too, follows baptism. All of us are baptized as church members; we may not all be particularly “commissioned;” just like all of us may be church members, but only some of us are called and ordained as officers. But today, I’d like us to celebrate not only God’s claim but our “call” to service as God’s faithful people. And I want to return a blessing.
Several people have asked me about “commissioning.” “Why do I want to ‘commission’ everyone? Aren’t we already commissioned?” [That might even be a good ordination exam question!] And the truth is, there may not be much in the way of a “special” reason for commissioning the whole congregation to Christian duty or Christian service. One could argue, we don’t have a specific form of service like Sunday School teacher or traveling preacher.
But the touch-point I want to offer you and I this morning is that as we are remembering our baptisms and ordaining and installing new officers, we are still called to Christian service and we ought to be thinking about that and considering it—all of us. Maybe that ministry takes place in the form of helping others—like buying food for the food pantry or giving away last year’s coat for people who can’t afford one, or dropping a donation in the red kettle. Maybe that ministry takes place in volunteering to prepare a meal, or funding a meal at places like Door of Faith, or making sure that CROSS ministries has enough funds with rent or utilities assistance. Or maybe, that ministry takes place in reaching out to friends and neighbors and discovering the “needs” present in our own neighborhoods, and reminding fellow church-members about how we can help.
Commissioning—for this day—is a way to remind us that we are all “set apart” for special service. God has claimed us, we have professed that faith, and what needs to happen next is not just “membership” in our congregation, or “ordination” as an officer, but a genuine serving of one another—within and outside our church walls.
So today we let our “light” shine—celebrating not only Jesus’ baptism, but our own; remembering that we are claimed by God and called by God to particular forms of service. Church members and Church Officers? Yes. But also, that our form of believing means doing and sharing as we believe. Loving God, and loving one another. Commissioned by faith, in hope, for love.
--+ AMEN.
Link to the audio file for my sermon from January 10th
Here's the link to the audio file for my sermon from Sunday, January 10th, 2010. This was Baptism of the Lord Sunday and we had a big service planned with the reaffirmation of baptismal vows, a commissioning for the congregation, the ordination and installation of new officers, and the celebration of the Lord's Supper.
http://www.box.net/shared/0dqz35bpab
As always, thanks for checking it out.
http://www.box.net/shared/0dqz35bpab
As always, thanks for checking it out.
Monday, January 4, 2010
No Sermon from January 3rd
There is no sermon or audio link for January 3rd. The preacher was away on vacation. The next sermon post should be from January 10th, when we are celebrating Baptism of the Lord Sunday--including the reaffirmation of baptismal vows, a special commissioning, the ordination and installation of newly elected officers, and the Lord's Supper.
Check back next week for the audio link and manuscript of the sermon.
Check back next week for the audio link and manuscript of the sermon.
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