Take Hold of Life

Busy weekend.  Wait.  No, it wasn’t.  Thanksgiving, time off, food and family and dozing in front of the TV while the NFL entertained us again.  Hardly busy.  Maybe we took a walk, or a turkey trot.  Maybe we indulged in some Black Friday kamikaze activities.  Maybe there were dishes to do or decorations to put up.  But busy?  No, not really.

True, but I meant here.  In this sacred worship space.  In this lurching our way through the liturgical year. This is busy space this weekend.  We’ve got Thanksgiving, first of all.  The one most evident before our eyes.  While it isn’t a religious holiday, it certainly has theological resonance, as we are all called to live a life of gratitude not just once a year but always.  It is central to who we are as God’s people.  We live in gratitude to God and to one another, recognizing that we are who we are and we have what we have because of others.  And we are thankful.

As if that wasn’t enough to build a worship experience around, it is also Christ the King Sunday.  Though New Year’s Eve and Day is still over a month away on our calendars, in this worship space it is around the corner.  Advent begins the Christian year.  And since next weekend is Advent, this is the last worship of the year.  And to declare who we are at the end of the year - even as we begin the year in anticipation of the One who comes again - we declare that this is Christ the King Sunday.  The day we pledge allegiance to Jesus as the King of kings and the Lord of Lords. The last Sunday of the Christian Year is a celebration of the head of the family, the authority and the power, the grace and the mercy that flows from the throne upon which sits the Lamb of God, the sacrificed one, the crucified one.  But also the Risen one who serves as the great High Priest, the Judge of the living and the dead.  

Whoa, sounds awesome - in the strictest sense of that word: inspiring awe, a portion of which is fear and trembling, but also an attraction that draws us nearer despite the recognition of that power.  And here’s the amazing thing, the description of that connection, that community is family.  “Wait,” you’re saying (and don’t you love how I supply all your lines in this “conversation”?), “you mean my family - the way we get along or don’t - is the model for how the kingdom community is supposed to be?”  No, of course not.  How silly!  Actually, it is exactly the opposite.  The model for how your family is supposed to function is the kingdom community.

Ooh, now that adds an interesting flavor to the next squabble in the family, doesn’t it?   And is it possible to have a squabble anywhere but within a family?  That’s one of those words only designed to describe familial relations, it seems to me.  But what if instead of a squabble, instead of turf war, instead of a clash of wills, the family was the place where the kingdom values took precedence?  

“OK, smart guy, what does that mean: kingdom values?  What should this family look like, or act like?”  Good question!  Thanks for asking.  Because now we can get to the passage for this week.  I know you thought that we were still in the stewardship series, you thought that we were still talking about generosity.  Where did all this family stuff come from?  Well, from that other community reflecting the values of the kingdom - the church.

Acts 2:42-47  They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.  43 Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles.  44 All who believed were together and had all things in common;  45 they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need.  46 Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts,  47 praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved. 

I added a couple of verses to those we will read in church.  But I wanted a little bigger picture for us to consider.  What is the church supposed to be, who are we supposed to be?  You say family, but what does that look like?

Here in these six verses in the second chapter of Acts we have a depiction of the church as it was designed to be.  You have to look quick because it doesn’t last long.  Succeeding chapters reflect the troubles that arose as they sought to live out what it meant to be a family in a difficult world.  The values of that world crept in and things like racism and classism brought dissent and ill-feeling into the church.  But for a brief moment, recorded here in this chapter we have a picture of what we are all longing for: the true family.

First of all this was a community that wanted to learn.  It doesn’t say that they took time out to listen to the instructions or the wisdom, but that they “devoted themselves” to it.  It wasn’t just another thing that they had to do it was a focus of energy and desire.  It was a longing to know more, to grow deeper, to be honed as instruments of God.  They were a learning community.

But they also loved each other.  There was a devotion - just as strong as toward learning - to fellowship, to spending time together, to eating together.   But more than that they took care of each other.  They would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. (vs.45) They didn’t consider their own needs were met until the needs of all the members of the community were met.  They didn’t consider their possessions to be more important than the welfare of their family.  It wasn’t that they were taking a vow of poverty, that they couldn’t own anything.  Verse 46 says they broke bread at home (and some translations say from house to house) showing that home ownership hadn’t disappeared.  But they elevating caring for people above accumulating riches.  They were a caring community

And they were a people dedicated to worship.  Worship at home and worship in community, corporate worship in the temple.  They knew that the source of their goodness, the ability to act in loving ways came not from their own inner resources, but by depending upon the resources of the Holy Spirit.  They needed worship like they needed food and fellowship and learning.  It was worship that shaped their hearts - their glad and generous hearts.  It was worship that directed their service to those in need, opened their eyes to opportunities to give.  It was worship that made them into the people that they were.  They were a worshiping community.

And it was noticed.  Their character stood out.  Their sharing, their generosity was notable.  Luke says they had the goodwill of all the people.  But he is careful to note that the object of their notoriety was not that good will.  They were directing their praise, their worship toward God.  It wasn’t to be noticed, and yet noticed they were.  Yet not in an “aren’t they cool” kind of way.  It was a tell me more, show me more, I want some of that kind of way.  The Lord added to their number day be day.  It wasn’t a church growth program, it wasn’t an evangelistic ministry, it was the church, the family being generous, being caring, being worshipful, being taught.  That’s what drew them to the fellowship.

They were alive.  That’s what drew the ones on the outside, that’s what made the family appealing. They were alive.  The third dimension of our weekend is that it is the conclusion of our Stewardship emphasis.  And Paul has some advice for Timothy on how to talk about money.

1 Timothy 6:17-19  As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.  18 They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share,  19 thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life. 

Take hold of life, that’s Paul’s advice.  Take hold by giving away.  Cling tightly by letting go.  Which sounds like what Someone else said before him.  Take hold of life by taking hold of the family.  The new family, the children of God family.  Those in need, those reaching out.  Take hold of those who gather for worship and who devote themselves to the Word.  Take hold of life by giving it away, freely and joyfully.  Take hold.

Shalom, 

Derek

The Indescribable Gift

The Christmas ads have been running for some time now.  You’ve seen them.  You’ve heard them.  You’re already tired of them.  How does that happen?  How does something as exciting as Christmas - and take that on whatever level you want to take it: cultural, religious, theological, family, ritual and tradition, deep meaning and wondrous beauty, lump in the throat producing, tear in the eye provoking, whatever - but how does something as exciting as Christmas become boring?  Become tedious?  Become “not again!”?

I’ll tell you. Because all that stuff, all those ads aren’t really about Christmas.  They’re about gifts and about giving.  Which is good stuff!  Don’t get me wrong.  I love gifts.  Getting them, certainly (anyone who wants my list, I’ll give it to you!).  But mostly giving them.  I love finding, buying, procuring, making gifts to give to people I love.  I just do. And who could get tired of that?  The giving and receiving of gifts, signs of love and acceptance and being claimed and welcomed.  You don’t have to spend a lot of money to give gifts.  But for them to really do the task intended you have to spend a lot of love.

But, the question for this bible study is this: Have I ever given an indescribable gift?  Or received one?  Now, let’s define terms here.  There have been those occasions when the gift I have given my wife, for example, elicits a raised eyebrow or a puzzled demeanor; a sound of uncertainty or expression of incredulity.  As in “what in the world were you thinking?”  Let’s be clear, it wasn’t indescribable in the strictest sense.  Because this expression was quickly followed by a string of description.  Which, come to think about it, might have been more about the giver than the gift.  But still, hardly indescribable.

What is an indescribable gift?  Why bring it up?  Why set the bar so high that we can’t ever achieve it?  Because that is what it sounds like is going on.  Who in the world trades in indescribable gifts?  Well, Paul says God does.

2 Corinthians 9:6-15   The point is this: the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.  7 Each of you must give as you have made up your mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.  8 And God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that by always having enough of everything, you may share abundantly in every good work.  9 As it is written, "He scatters abroad, he gives to the poor; his righteousness endures forever."  10 He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.  11 You will be enriched in every way for your great generosity, which will produce thanksgiving to God through us;  12 for the rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God.  13 Through the testing of this ministry you glorify God by your obedience to the confession of the gospel of Christ and by the generosity of your sharing with them and with all others,  14 while they long for you and pray for you because of the surpassing grace of God that he has given you.  15 Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! 

The point is this.  Trust Paul to get to the point.  And then trust him to circle around and around it, turn it into a series of metaphors and images, make allusions and then find likes and opposites, and finally throw up his hands and sing a song about it, a song that turns out to be a song of praise to God.  Because, you know, that’s how he deals with stuff.  Important stuff.  Faith centering stuff.  Like God and Faith and Law and Grace and Eternity and Obedience and Money.  Wait, what?  Money?  A Faith centering item?  Well, yes, Paul thought so.  And was quite serious about it.  He talks about giving in these verses.  (In case you aren’t from the Southport UMC Tribe, we are continuing our brief stewardship emphasis.)  He talks about giving abundantly, sacrificially, giving in a way that we notice it.  And he talks about our attitude while giving.  Give with willingness, give with joy, give - he even seems to imply - with laughter.  I know, a bit odd that Paul.  But still, it sounds exciting, it sounds powerful.  It sounds like something we just might want to be a part of.

Especially when he points out the receipts.  Yeah, this is not giving for nothing.  This is about investment and expecting a return.  “You will be enriched in every way.”  Well, we think, really?  In every way?  Surely he meant in good ways.  Surely he meant you will be enriched in every way that matters.  Some sort of proviso, some sort of escape clause.  Otherwise we fall into the hands of those guys who turn God into a divine slot machine, put a little in and bells and lights go off and we get a lot out.  And if the payoff didn’t come this time, put in a little bit more and then do an attitude check.  Payoff is coming.  Surely he didn’t mean that, we think.

And we’d be right.  He didn’t mean that.  But we don’t need to change the words to fit us better.  Instead we change ourselves to fit the words.  Which is always the case, by the way.  We want to shape God’s words to fit us where we are, but our real goal is to shape our lives to fit the Word.  We become givers, we become generous, we learn about sacrifice when God takes over our lives and we walk by the Word, we live by the Spirit, and then we know we are rich.  Because we have received all that our hearts desire.  All.  All that our hearts desire.  We are enriched.  What could be more than all?  All that our hearts desire?  What could that be?  That all, that gift?  That indescribable all?

I went back to Fort Wayne to do a funeral this past week.  It isn’t really our normal practice to return to a former church to perform a funeral.  So I made sure it was ok with the current pastor, and he gave his blessing.  The funeral was for Paul, a man who was my head usher for the whole ten years I was there.  Co-head for part of the time, sharing the responsibility always.  He was a man of faith, quiet, helpful, willing to step up and do what he could.  He loved his wife and family, especially the grandkids and great-grandkids.  They were a gift to him and he was a gift to them.  To his family, to his church and his community.  An indescribable gift.

At the beginning of the month, my siblings and I made our way to Paris, Tennessee, possibly for the last time.  Unless we choose to pass through on our way somewhere else, to stop at the little cemetery in a residential area where Mom and Dad lived for almost forty years.  Now they are remembered with a marble stone and a patch of grass and few bulbs we put in the ground to mark the space.  We visited with a few who spoke of them both, of all that Dad did for the little county seat town in west Tennessee.  He worked with the Scouts, boy and cub both, he lead the county Habitat for Humanity, worked with various churches and numerous individuals, mostly working with his hands, fixing, building, repairing.  He was a gift to that community.  Maybe more than he knew, certainly more than we, his children who lived so many miles away from him, knew.  An indescribable gift. 

We are all so blessed by people in our lives who are gifts beyond description.  When Paul concludes his message on giving, he says that no matter what is in our hearts to give, we’ve already been given more.  We can’t out give God.  Because God has given us so much, so many, resources, yes, but more than that love.  People who love us whether we are worthy of it or not.  People who challenge us, who stretch us, and who shape us sometimes against our will, into what we are yet becoming.  That’s the gift.  That’s what Paul is celebrating in our text for this week.  The family that we are becoming because of generosity, because of our willingness to give.  It’s not really about money, except as the sign that points back to the heart.  We sometimes give our hearts to Jesus, but until it gets to our wallets and our bank accounts, then there is still a part of our heart we’ve kept from Him.  But once it penetrates even into that realm of our lives, then we will know blessing.  Then we will be enriched in every way that matters, in every way that we care about.  Enriched by love, by relationships, by service and caring and giving and helping and healing.  Enriched by life.  The indescribable gift.

Whatever we decide in our heads and hearts and bank accounts to give we should give thanks for the ability to give, be proud to be able to give, but also humble enough to know whatever we intend to give it does not repay what has been given to us.  And to even describe what we’ve been given escapes us.  Our lives are full of indescribable gifts.  Thanks be to God.

Shalom, 

Derek

All the Good You Can

We paid off a student loan!  It wasn’t a big loan and it wasn’t going to take long even at the usual rate, but we decided to go ahead and get rid of it.  We worked hard to give our kids the best gift we could think of, an education debt free.  If you don’t think that’s a big deal then you haven’t been in the higher education scene for some time.  Our parents gave us that gift a few years ago.  (Well, ok a heck of a long time ago) So we wanted to do that for them.  Passing on that blessing.  Given that some estimates put the current student loan debt nationally at one and half billion dollars and the average (average, mind you) debt per student at just under forty thousand dollars, this is a blessing indeed.  It wasn’t always easy making those payments - especially since both kids chose private colleges, thought they were given some scholarships.  So, we struggled to get the money together, hence the small loan we had to take out for one semester of Maddie’s schooling.  And we had help from La Donna’s parents who had the foresight to set up a trust that we were able to use.  So it was their generosity, both sets of parents, that taught us to want to be generous, that has now blessed our children and will no doubt go on to bless many others as they begin to make their way into the world.

That’s the effect of generosity.  It almost never affects only one.  It is rarely binary, almost always algebraic. Exponential?  One of those big math words anyway.  It expands, and more and more and more are blessed.  More and more and more receive from the gift of generosity.  But it’s not really a math equation.  It’s a faith item, a biblical principle.  It is the secret to life.  To living fully.  The abundant life that Jesus wants us all to have.  

It’s Stewardship time here at Southport UMC.  Everyone’s favorite time of year when we focus on money.  “All that church ever talks about is money!”  I’ve heard that accusation before.  “All they’re interested in is my money.”  I could argue against that idea.  I could point out the months of preaching where money doesn’t enter into the script anywhere.  But frankly, that’s not a positive on my part.  I don’t talk about money nearly as much as Jesus did.  I don’t keep trying to show you just how serious this subject really is.  I keep hoping you’ll pick it up by osmosis.  That you’ll arrive at the conclusion without me having to constantly point it out.  But Jesus knew you’d need more help than that.  So He kept talking about money.  About what you do with it.  About what it does to you.  He talked about it more than anything else, except the Kingdom of God.  And even there the subject lines get blurry.  Blurry because sometimes it sounds like the Kingdom of God is a long way off, and other times He makes it sound like it is all around us right now.  And how we choose to live now, what we choose to do with the things of this life indicate whether we are even aware of that Kingdom or oblivious to the promise that pulses around us.  He doesn’t care about our money, He cares about our souls, our lives.  And what we do with money, with resources, with gifts, with time, with life itself is a sign that we have ears to hear Him when He pleads with us to enter into His Kingdom, to enter into His rest.  To partake of His life.

So instead of budgets and pledges and tithing and maybe the guilt of doing or not doing our share, this year’s stewardship emphasis is about the secret of life.  The abundant life that Jesus offers.  The life of the Kingdom that is ours if we claim it by choosing how we will live.  The secret.  It’s not really a secret.  It has been there from the beginning.  Told to us in bits of wisdom in ancient texts we overlook because of the lack of drama, perhaps, or the overly simple obviousness of it all.  Yeah, yeah, we nod along with these secrets, this wisdom.  We know this.  But do we?  Do we know it deeply enough?  Do we know it as a life changing reality?  Do we know it as the secret to life?  Do we?  And the secret?  Generosity.  Give it away.  Pour it out.  That’s how to be full.  That’s how to have all we need.  Give it away.

Psalm 37:21  The wicked borrow, and do not pay back, but the righteous are generous and keep giving.  

Let’s take a look at some Old Testament Wisdom.  To find this secret being trumpeted loudly.  Psalm 37 is a wisdom psalm of a choice.  There is a choice in how we will live.  We find this choice presented in lots of places. Here it is a choice between righteousness and wickedness.  Well, when you put it like that... OK, set the words aside for a moment.  The choice is not just good and evil, the choice is self or others.  The choice is inward focus or an outward one.  Making room for God and God’s will in our lives or doing what seems right in our own heads and hearts.  It’s a choice we make all the time, every day, every moment.  Sometimes it is a conscious choice, most of the time we just go, following whatever nose is closest.  But Psalm 37 invites us to pay attention and make a choice.  And in the heart of the choice is this idea of generosity.  It is the hinge upon which the psalm rotates.  Give and keep giving.  That defines the Kingdom choice.  Keep giving.

Psalm 112:4-9 They rise in the darkness as a light for the upright; they are gracious, merciful, and righteous.  5 It is well with those who deal generously and lend, who conduct their affairs with justice. 6 For the righteous will never be moved; they will be remembered forever. 7 They are not afraid of evil tidings; their hearts are firm, secure in the LORD. 8 Their hearts are steady, they will not be afraid; in the end they will look in triumph on their foes. 9 They have distributed freely, they have given to the poor; their righteousness endures forever; their horn is exalted in honor.

Um, what?  Their horn?  Yeah, their horn.  The horn was the symbol for power.  Like a rhino with an impressive horn.  You respect that power and keep out of its way.  But this horn, this power is the power of giving, the power of generosity.  Here the horn is not the horn as a weapon, but the horn as a source of blessing.  The horn hollowed out and filled with the oil of anointing.  The generous are blessed to be a blessing, they pour out and are remembered by how they give to others.  And their generous spirit survives difficulties, setbacks. Their hearts are firm, says the psalmist.  The secret of living an abundant life is giving it away at every opportunity.  Not a secret.  Just hard to remember.  Especially in difficult times.

Prov. 11:24-25 Some give freely, yet grow all the richer; others withhold what is due, and only suffer want. 25 A generous person will be enriched, and one who gives water will get water.

You can’t talk about Old Testament Wisdom and not look at Proverbs.  So, two quick looks.  First here is a thought in the middle of a whole bunch of statements about the good life.  The wise life.  And it is about how giving comes back.  And hoarding brings loss.  A paradox, it seems, and yet true.  We know this.  Because we are filled up when we can give, when we can help.  We are filled up even when we stumble, or fall short.  It is about living abundantly, which is different than living with lots of stuff.  

Proverbs 22:9 Those who are generous are blessed, for they share their bread with the poor.

We all want to be blessed.  We all want to feel the commendation of our God and our community, our family.  But again and again we are reminded that blessing is not about what we get, it is about what we give.  Are we sensing a theme here?  A common thread by which we can stitch ourselves into the tapestry of abundant living.  

Exodus 35:5-9 Take from among you an offering to the LORD; let whoever is of a generous heart bring the LORD's offering: gold, silver, and bronze; 6 blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and fine linen; goats' hair, 7 tanned rams' skins, and fine leather; acacia wood, 8 oil for the light, spices for the anointing oil and for the fragrant incense, 9 and onyx stones and gems to be set in the ephod and the breastpiece.

OK, not wisdom literature per se.  But this is the beginnings of the people of God.  Remember, this is Exodus, they are not settled, not at home, they are wandering in the wilderness, have years ahead of the them of who knows what, they sure don’t.  But a call goes out, a call to generosity.  A call to make worship beautiful by giving what is precious.  A call that can then be a way of defining a people, God’s people.  Let those of a generous heart bring the Lord’s offering.  And give that you may be blessed to be a blessing.  It’s a secret everyone knows.

Shalom, 

Derek 

Heads Up

Just a heads up.  There won’t be a Bible Study next weekend.  The first weekend of November is when my siblings and spouses and some of the grandkids will gather in Paris, Tennessee to inter the ashes of my father.  Dad has been sitting on our mantel since shortly after his death.  We had him cremated, as he requested, and will bury him next to Mom in the cemetery across the street from the house they lived in for almost forty years.  It will be a celebration of life and family and love, as well as the sadness of the end of an era and the grief of losing the last parent of our generation.  

We chose this weekend because it is the anniversary of his birth.  He would have been 89 on that Saturday, November third.  The church Dad and Mom attended there in Paris is throwing a Birthday Party reception for us after the graveside service.  My siblings and assorted family members are gathering in a cabin in a nearby state park.  Partly because Dad loved camping and the outdoors, partly because it can accommodate us all, and partly because it will be good to be a family again, even if for a short time.  For the last time.  

Who knows whether we will have occasion to all gather together again?  We can say we will do it, but will we?  We might connect in other ways in this technologically rich world in which we live, but will we occupy the same space again, like we did when we sat on the floor in our footie pajamas and blinked our way through a Christmas morning?   We’re losing something next weekend, a father, yes, but also the glue that held us together, the reason we gathered when we did.  We spent the last however many years gathering because we needed to provide care for Mom, or make decisions about Dad.  Before that it was so that Mom and Dad wouldn’t be alone on Christmas.  So, what will bring us together now?  We can make the effort.  We can pledge to stay connected, to stay close, but given what else is going on in all of our disparate lives, will we?  Can we carry this load along with all the other loads we are given to carry?

Matthew 11:28-30  "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." 

Contextually, Jesus was referring to the burdens placed on the people of God by those in leadership who expanded on the law.  When God gave the law to Moses on Mt. Sinai it was a pretty simple thing.  Ten Commandments carved onto two stone tablets - straightforward, clear and concise, just what we expect from laws!  Right?  Uh, no.  Ever read the simplified tax code from the US Government?  

God tried to keep things simple.  There were laws about how to worship and laws about how to live in community - and what else do you need?  Well, heaped on top of these ten laws were literally thousands of interpretations and applications that also must be followed in order to stay right.  It became so onerous that no one could remember them all let alone obey them.  So, every one lived out of sync with God’s law, at least according to those in charge.  Most people wanted to be right, wanted to follow the law, but it was impossible.  So, they lived with the burden of not being right, not being pure enough to worship, not having access to God, except through those in charge who guarded the gates religiously.  

Jesus came along and said “take my yoke.”  One of the concepts we struggle with in this passage is the fact that there is a yoke to take and that there is rest to receive.  Which is it Jesus?  Yoke or rest?  A yoke implies work, and rest implies ... well ... NOT work.  We like the rest thing, aren’t too sure about the yoke thing, to be honest.  Even if it is easy and light.

Someone called this passage the Great Invitation.  That makes four “Greats” that I can identify.  There is the Great Commission - “Go and Make Disciples” (Matthew 28:19); the Great Commandment - “You shall love the Lord” (Matthew 22:37 et al); the Great Requirement “Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8); and now the Great Invitation - “Come to me” (Matthew 11:28).  

But the real question is, to what are we invited?  Is it work or is it rest?  Labor and struggle, or vacation and getting away from it all?  Is this about heaven or about earth?  Yes.  To all that precedes.  Yes.  And no.  The invitation is to a relationship.  “Take MY yoke,” says Jesus, “and learn from me.”  He is inviting us into a partnership, to labor alongside him in the fields of the Lord.  He wants us to take on his spirit, his heart.  He asks of us to be “gentle and humble in heart” as we live and work in this world.  It is not a task so much as a way of living, a way of being alive. 

So, it IS a yoke.  There IS a burden.  But it is a yoke that is easy and burden that is light.  Does that mean that there is no effort here?  That it is something we do without thinking, without straining?  Not necessarily.  “Easy” in this case really means “well-fitting.”  The yoke that Christ offers is a yoke that fits us, it is right for us.  It doesn’t rub in the wrong places and make us sore.  There is effort, there is struggle at times, but it is good effort, it is healthy struggle and we feel the better for it.  The burden of walking in the way of Christ is light because it is right, it is good, it builds us up rather than takes us down.

Christ doesn’t offer us an effortless life, but one that means something.  We don’t get a struggle free life, but one that accomplishes something, and makes a difference in the world.  Those around us are better because we are there.  We are better, happier, more whole.  That is the promise.

Sounds good, but it doesn’t sound like rest to me.  Unless by rest he meant something other than what we first imagine.  Unless he meant something like the antidote to restlessness.  That what he was offering was not so much a sun drenched beach upon which to kick back and nap, but a sense of belonging and of purpose that allows us to know that we are right, we are in sync with our deepest selves and with our loved ones (which is always a bigger crowd than we acknowledge) and with him.  The offer of rest is another way of describing salvation, which has less to do with the gates of heaven and more to with the fields we plow when we are yoked to Christ.   Certainly there is a promise of eternity and an invitation into the presence of God, but that promise and that presence are what make the burden of living so light and what make the yoke of Christ so easy.  We will find, says Jesus, rest for our souls.  Our backs are into the labors of love, our shoulders are bent to the tasks of justice, our hands are busy with the works of kindness, but our souls are at rest.

We conclude our Micah 6:8 series this week.  “Do justice, Love mercy, walk humbly with God.”  This is not, I’ve come believe, a checklist that we can mark off one by one.  Instead it is a formula that only together is it even possible.  Doing justice is a task beyond us, frankly.  It is too big, too intensive, too worldview for our individual minds.  Unless we learn to love through acts of kindness to each and everyone around us.  When we love kindness (and notice it is love kindness, not do kindness.  There is something about the motivation that makes a difference) we begin to do justice.  When we act locally we think globally!  But, then how do we love enough to act kindly to everyone we encounter?  That seems beyond us.  And it is.  Unless we can walk humbly with God.  Not just walk with God.  Many of us want to walk with God, and serve in an advisory capacity, telling God what ought to be done.  But we’re called to walk humbly with God.  Which means first of all acknowledging that God is God and we are not.  Walk humbly with God until hesed, God’s steadfast love, and mispat, God’s desire for justice, begin to rub off on us.  Walking humbly with God is offering yourself to the yoke of Christ.  Walking humbly with God is not about feeling inadequate or shamed, keeping our head down in sorrow.  It is about keeping our heads up that we might see God at work in and through us and then all around us too.  It is to join up in the kingdom building force that does justice and loves kindness because God does that too.  Keep your head up, and see the face of God.

I have walked with my family for my whole life, humbly and not so, I must confess. So, I’ll keep my head up and keep holding on to them as we walk into the future God has in store.  Walk with me. 

Shalom, 

Derek

If It'd a Been a Snake

I’m heading north today.  Back to a church I served some years ago.  They contacted me a while back and asked if I could come to share in a special celebration.  They built an addition to their building and finally have it paid off and wondered if I would come back and help them celebrate.  Now it wasn’t there, the addition I mean, when I served as associate pastor for a couple of years.  So, my first inclination was to say I’m honored, but why me?  But instead I just checked to see if Doug, my associate here at Southport would be back from his Disney vacation and able to preach at Southport, and then said yes.  I’ll go.  I’ll be a part of the celebration.  Of generosity.  Because I had been a recipient of that generosity.  See that’s where I was serving when we adopted Rhys, our son who turns 25 next week.  Yikes.  And this church blessed me.  Pass on the kindness, that’s what this is about. /it was right in front of me the whole time.

If it had been a snake it would have bit you!  I don’t know where that cliche first came from, but it fits me.  The truth is we all can ignore what is in front of our faces from time to time.  Sometimes we genuinely don’t see what is so obvious to everyone else.  Maybe we are distracted or occupied by deep thoughts of some kind and we simply miss it.  Other times we don’t want to see what is in front of us, we choose our blindness when what is in front of us is uncomfortable or ugly or seemingly beyond our capacity to affect.  We can only take so much of helpless, before we - out of self-preservation perhaps - turn away and try to convince ourselves we didn’t see what we saw.  Or convince ourselves that what we saw was not our responsibility, not our business.

Our cultural fixation on “live and let live” has driven us to turn blind eyes to all sorts of situations, all sorts of needs because we don’t want to “impose” - we don’t want to get involved.  So, we have learned to not see the snakes that are just waiting to bite us.

At least that is what I think is going on here in our Scripture text for this week.  This is a very familiar passage.  So familiar it has become a part of our language.  So familiar that I think we don’t see the snakes that might bite us in the story that Jesus tells us.  Listen again:

Luke 10:25-37  Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. "Teacher," he said, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?"  26 He said to him, "What is written in the law? What do you read there?"  27 He answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself."  28 And he said to him, "You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live."  29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?"  30 Jesus replied, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead.  31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side.  32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side.  33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity.  34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him.  35 The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, 'Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.'  36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?"  37 He said, "The one who showed him mercy." Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise." 

Of course we know the story.  Everyone, Christian or not, has heard of a “Good Samaritan.”  There is even a “Good Samaritan Law” on the books in Indiana and other states to protect someone who stops to help in a crisis situation.  So, it would seem there is very little that would need to be discussed here.  Everyone agrees on this.  Jesus tells the story in such a way that even a lawyer can see what is right!  Sorry, that was mean too.  Some of my best friends are lawyers.  Anyway...

Well, lets take a look at our friend the lawyer.  Which in this case might better be described as a religious scholar instead of what we think of as a lawyer.  Since there was no distinction between religious and secular law in Israel at that time, a lawyer was someone who knew the scriptures well enough to argue for right and wrong.  He was a scholar who had studied the Torah (which is Hebrew for “law”) and was called upon to settle disputes, or to represent the interests of someone wronged.

It is interesting that Luke’s lawyer asks a subtly different question than the ones in Matthew and Mark.  There the question is “what is the greatest commandment?”  Here it is “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  In the end it is the same question, but the approach is completely different.  The former sounds like a religious scholar/lawyer kind of question.  What is greater...? Or “what commandment is first of all,” in Mark’s version.  They might have meant most important or it might have been which is precedent setting - “which law is above other laws” that sort of thing. 

But Luke’s lawyer asks “what must I do?”  Which is the kind of question Luke would hear more clearly.  There is more than a legal issue here.  There is a participation, there is a connection, there is a life direction kind of issue here.  Some have argued that what he was really asking was “what is the least I can do and still get in?”  I don’t know if that can be inferred, but you couldn’t blame him even if it was.  It is a very human kind of question.  “Is this going to be on the test?”  That is how students ask the question.  “Do we have to know this stuff, or are you just talking?”  

He might have been trying to slide by with minimal effort, but I prefer to think that he really wanted to know.  I know Luke says it was a test.  Maybe it was a test with a hidden hope underneath.  Maybe he was put up to the test, but made it a personal quest on his own.  Whatever it was, Jesus took it seriously and turned it around to the questioner.  This was Jesus’ M.O.  He rarely handed things around on silver platters.  He always wanted us to work a little bit.  Maybe with interpretation, maybe with application, but there was always something left to do when Jesus stopped talking.

In this case it was the question itself that came back.  “What do you think?”  My kids hate that, but I do it all the time.  Here the lawyer answered with the Great Commandment.  Case closed.  Jesus gave him lovely parting gifts and it was all over.  

Except the lawyer wasn’t satisfied.  Luke interprets for us: “But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’” It’s that “justify himself” bit that bugs me.  It bugs me because I do it too.  “I’d like to love my neighbor,” goes the thought process, “but I’m just not sure what’s safe.  I’m just not sure what’s needed.  I’m just not sure for whom I am really responsible.  I’ve got kids, I’ve got a wife, I’ve got my hands full.”  There are rules, you know, how to treat certain kinds of people.  Well, if not rules than expectations, standards.  Help your own first, goes one school of thought.  Charity begins at home.  The lawyer’s lawyerness kicked in here.  He decided to try and divert judgement on his behavior by asking a question for which there was no easy answer.  He wanted to tie this verdict up in court and avoid having to act on it.  At the very least he was hoping for a pat on the back and “well, do the best you can” from Jesus.  Instead he got a story.

You know the story.  You know the way Samaritans were viewed, especially compared to priests and Levites.  You know that Jesus was trying to move the debate beyond an academic justification issue into an “open your eyes” kind of issue.  He was trying to move it from a label and an insiders verses outsider kind of thing toward a taking responsibility for the need in front of you kind of attitude.  This isn’t about changing the world, but about healing the hurts.  In Micah’s words this isn’t doing justice, it is loving mercy.  Both are necessary.  But if we spend all of our time out trying to chase windmills, out trying to make the world a better place for everyone someday, we will miss the opportunity to make it better for one close by right now.  In fact we could argue that without acts of mercy, or kindness, there can be no move toward justice.  If we allow needs to go unmet then we are asking for trouble on a larger scale.  There are needs aplenty, just open your eyes.  If it had been a snake, it would have bit you.

Shalom,

Derek 

Justice Song

What do you sing about these days?  An odd sort of question, I realize.  My wife, La Donna, often comes home from church with a hymn in her head.  Sometimes she even gets frustrated.  It just sits in there.  She can’t wait for the next week so she can get a new hymn!  You know that feeling.  Maybe you heard a snippet of a song, or something that sounded like a song, something that reminded you of a song.  And now that song keeps playing over and over in your head.  Even when you don’t want it to.  You find yourself humming the tune, you find yourself mumbling the words.  They are just there, rattling around in your skull, driving you crazy.  Or if not you, everyone around you as you keep singing that song over and over.  Because it is stuck in there - and it begins to define you in a way.

I had a friend who thought everyone should have their theme song, like in the movies.  If you look at a movie soundtrack you’ll see titles like “Jack’s Theme” or “Liza’s Song.”  And this music would play whenever that character was central to the scene.  Well, this friend thought that we should all have our theme music to play that would define us, that would announce our presence and point to us when it is our turn to enter into the dialog or to shape the action.  OK, I’ve had some weird friends over the years.  But still it is an intriguing idea.  If you had the ability and the opportunity to write your own theme song, what would it sound like?  What would it say?

We start a three week worship series with the reading for this week.  The whole series is titled “What the Lord Requires” and is based on Micah 6:8: what does the LORD require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?   Each week we will examine one requirement as outlined in this verse.  We are always asking the question, what are we supposed to do?  Who are we supposed to be?  What does God want from me?  This series is designed to help us answer that question.  

So we start where the verse starts, we start with the biggie: do justice.  It’s an overwhelming word in many ways.  A comic book word.  “Truth, Justice and ...”  How does that go?  It isn’t a lived in word.  Is it?  What does justice mean for us today.  What does it have to do with us in our every day lives?  Isn’t justice something for someone else, for the people in charge to deal with?   

Read what Isaiah says in our reading for this weekend.

Isaiah 42:1-9  Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.  2 He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street;  3 a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice.  4 He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his teaching.  5 Thus says God, the LORD, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people upon it and spirit to those who walk in it:  6 I am the LORD, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations,  7 to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness.  8 I am the LORD, that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to idols.  9 See, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them. 

This is the first of four passages called the Servant Song of the book of Isaiah.  There is some considerable debate about who is the servant referred to in the first verse of chapter forty-two.  On the one hand it seems to be the ideal follower of God.  Maybe there isn’t a particular reference at all, it is just anyone who seeks to follow, this is the kind of life he/she will lead, this is the kind of person she/he will be.  It is an example passage.

Some argue that this was a passage read after the coronation of a new king.  It was a reminder to the king and to the nation that a leader serves not for his/her own benefit, not from his/her own power, but as a servant of the Lord who called and equipped him/her to serve.  It was a celebration of a new administration launched in hope.  Sound familiar?  If only all our leaders saw themselves first as servants, what a difference that might make in governing.

Others, who read a little further in these verses determine that the servant is the whole people of God.  When Isaiah speaks of calling, of being the light on the hill, we know it is whole nation of Israel that was called to that task.  It has echoes in the words of Jesus when he tells us that we are salt and light, the church is the light on the hill, inviting all the world to come and know what we know, to know who we know.  So the servant is the community of faith.

Then, of course, we Christians can’t help but read these words and imagine Christ.  Jesus was the servant of the Lord who showed us what a life of service was like.  Jesus was one who lifted up the fallen, who received the Spirit of the Lord to bring forth justice.  This is a prophetic passage, spoken and written hundreds of years before the one to whom it refers came to be.

Finally, it is hard to read these words and not hear the call upon our own lives.  Each of us (as well as all of us, mentioned a couple of paragraphs ago) is called to serve the Lord, to work for justice.  Each of us, this is a call passage, an invitation to a way of living.

So, you might be asking, which is it?  Which one is the right answer?  Well, all of them.  That is the glory of the Bible, it functions on so many levels all at the same time.  I believe that historically it referred to the king who ascended to the throne of Israel and to the nation that ruler led.  And sometimes they listened and sometimes they didn’t.  I think it also carried the seeds of prophecy, paving the way for the coming of the Christ.  Did Isaiah know he was talking about Jesus of Nazareth?  Probably not, but God knew.  Just as God knows that we have the opportunity to live as servants to God and to the people.  This is indeed a calling, an invitation to live in certain ways, to work for certain ends.

And what might those ends be?  Did you notice that the word “justice” appears three times in the first four verses?  It seems pretty important, don’t you think?  Especially when we read that we or he or someone “will not faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth.”  We can’t rest, the task isn’t finished, Christ’s work isn’t done until justice is established in the earth.

So, what defines justice?  Well, that is more than I can resolve for you in the small space left here.  But a glimpse is given in the passage.  To establish justice is to open the eyes of the blind - whether those blinded by material things or limited education or poverty or prejudice or....  It is the work of the servants of the Lord to help folks see what they overlook.  To establish justice is to release those who are imprisoned in dungeons or darkness - whether those dungeons are human made barriers to freedom and wholeness, to sustenance or beauty; or practices that enslave minds or resources and keep people trapped in a cycle of poverty or on the brink of illness or disease from the lack of sanitary systems we take for granted; or the lack of resources or knowledge that will enable children of God to know how valuable they are to their creator and to this world.  That is the work of establishing justice in the earth - to be in the business of systemic change, lasting change that makes life better for all.  These are the new things that are about to spring forth, the new things that we are to tell about.  These are the songs that we are called to sing into being.

Someone once said that God didn’t say let there be light, like is says in Genesis one.  God sang it.  God sang the world into being.  And we are now called to sing the songs that will bring forth justice.  And to keep singing, and singing, and singing.  Like that song we can’t get out of our heads, we are to fill our vision with justice.  This is our theme song, says Isaiah 42, the music that plays whenever we take the stage is a song of justice.

What songs are you singing these days?

Shalom,

Derek

Receiving the Kingdom

Summer is back.  Autumnal Summer.  Dog days?  No, those are usually in August aren’t they?  The Dog days of summer?  Besides if you ask my dog he’s say these aren’t dog days.  These are hot and steamy days that wear you out every time you go down the street a ways.  Not the crisp cool October we’re used to.  There is a house down the street already decorated for Halloween, orange lights and black cloth and spider’s webs and tombstones with skeletons.  But if this keeps up, kids will Trick or Treat in bathing suits, and ask for a popsicle instead of a candy apple.  

Apparently we aren’t the only ones with odd weather.  Our friends in England told us about an uncomfortably hot summer for that island nation.  Our daughter Maddie was frustrated checking the weather before going to Europe, not being sure how to pack for her two weeks in the mountain villages of Germany and Austria.  Then of course the unusually strong hurricanes and tropical storms dropping a deluge on the south east and other island nations nearby.   Earthquakes in Indonesia, fires in California and Oregon and Colorado, and probably more. Now this isn’t a sign of the end times kind of rant.  Instead I’m heading in the completely different direction.  While I am in no way celebrating tragic circumstances, I do want to point out how these events tend to bring us together.  They also shrink the planet until we feel like neighbors with those in another hemisphere.  “Not in my backyard” gives way to how can we help dig out, dry off, cool down, restock, rehouse those in our world wide suburb?

It’s World Communion Sunday this week.  A date when we remember that when we partake of the sacrament of Holy Communion we don’t do it alone.  This meal we share is not for us alone.  The ritual is performed in more languages than we can count, the bread takes many forms and flavors.  The celebrants come in all colors and answer to a variety of titles.  It’s a World Communion observance in a diverse and divided world.  And yet it’s a world with needs as real as bread, and hungers as deep as the ocean that links us.

Here’s a question – Is communion primarily a spiritual event or a physical one?  Well, a bit of both is the answer of course.  But don’t we lean to the spiritual side?  Sure there is bread and juice, but it is the grace and the remembrance that really make it.  Our task on communion days is to experience the presence of Christ.  Isn’t it?  To transport ourselves onto a spiritual plane and commune with the One who set the table.  We’re to move beyond the mundane, to enjoy the sublime.  Right?

Well, I’m not so sure.  Jesus seemed intent on making things, making faith real.  He was always grounded in the reality of the world in which we live.  His images of the Kingdom, the metaphors he used were of earth - seeds and pearls, light and darkness, sheep and coins, the stuff we live with every day.  I think he sat at the table and took hold of the reality of bread and, here, this, this is my body.  This is me.  I’m here, I’m as real as bread.  And every time you pick up a loaf of bread, you’ll be touching me, holding me, claiming me.  I’m here, right here in this world with you.  He wanted them grounded, not floating around on some heavenly cloud somewhere.  When they tried to turn the talk to the reality of the Kingdom, asking about the seating arrangements, the place cards on His table, He got exasperated with them.  This cup, He said, this cup is my whole life.  I’m as present as the clay it took to make this cup.  I’m as alive as the bouquet of this wine, the fruit of the vine.  I’m that vine, He said.  He was trying to get them to live in the world, to pay attention to what was right in front of them.  

It was a trait of His, the invitation to pay attention. He was always pointing to the most unlikely of things, the most unlikely of people and asking His followers to see them.  To really see them.  Like this ...

Mark 10:13-16  People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them.  14 But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.  15 Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it."  16 And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them. 

This is the Jesus we know and love best of all, I believe.  But we have to realize what a radical departure this action was from normal behavior.  No one with any authority or power or standing in society in this period of history would even have time for children.  It just wasn’t done.  And yet here is Jesus, not only allowing children to be in His presence, but taking them up in His arms and blessing them.  Almost embarrassing, at least I am sure that some - like the disciples themselves - were scandalized by this behavior.

Yet, Jesus didn’t care.  What He cared about was blessing.  He cared about touching and putting them on His lap, because they were real people, worthy of His attention, His presence.  He cared about welcoming and including.  He cared about making sure that everyone understood the value of those of whom he said “let them come.”  Mark says He was angry, indignant our translation says.  It’s a harsh word in Greek.  It seems Jesus was trying to be concrete.  You’re in the way, He said to His disciples turned bouncers trying to keep the kids away.  You’re in the way, not just of these kids, but of the Kingdom.  This was a “get behind me Satan” moment.  One of many.  The disciples were missing something fundamental.  So Jesus was trying to help His hearers see something of the glory and the wonder of the Kingdom and He grabbed the nearest visual aid He could find.  

Come and see, He could have said.  See through these eyes the wonder of God’s creation.  Come and see the needs and the opportunities to serve.  Come and see how we can live out the commandment to love our neighbor as ourselves.  And then He gathered them up.  So that we could see that the best way to rid oneself of doubts and fears and suspicions and animosity is by getting outside of yourself long enough to bless a child.  To talk to them, to listen to them, to experience the world through their eyes.

But then, He wanted to make sure we didn’t miss the point here.  That they didn’t miss it and that through them we don’t miss it either.  To such as these belongs the Kingdom of God.  Actually, He didn’t say belongs.  The verb here isn’t belongs.  It is is.  Is.  For it is to such as these that the Kingdom of God is.  Is?  They’ve got it, He says, or they are it.  You want to embrace the Kingdom, embrace a child.  Let them come, He says.  Which means how we treat children, what we allow done to children or not done to children is what we do to the Kingdom of God.  

Wow.  I mean, wow.  Don’t you think?  And then, in case we were still unclear, Jesus drives it home.  Whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God as a little child, will never enter it.  Which means what exactly?  That’s the question that has driven biblical scholars crazy for over two millennia.  On the one hand are we supposed to receive the Kingdom like a child would receive the Kingdom, or like a child would receive anything?  Or are we supposed to receive the Kingdom like we receive a child.  Or as we receive a child?  In other words is our ability to receive the Kingdom dependent upon how we receive children into our midst?  How we treat children.  Or mistreat them, as individuals and as a society.  When children suffer at the hands of adults, or governments, or religious leaders, or parents, are we in danger of losing our grip on the Kingdom of God?  

Maybe the heaviness of that line of thinking is why most commentators take the other track.  How do children receive things?  And how do we emulate them?  Lots of ink has been spilt trying to answer that.  Words like innocence and purity, or dependence or wonder, are often used to help us grasp the attitude it takes to receive the Kingdom.  But I wonder if it isn’t about an attitude, but an action.  Attitude is important, I don’t mean to suggest that it isn’t.  Yet, Jesus is being concrete here, grounding us in the world of doing.  So maybe His point is more earthy than we tend to think.  More simple.  So, how do children receive anything?  With both hands.  That’s how.  Then, how shall we receive the Kingdom?

Shalom,

Derek