29 June 2014 “Welcome All” Matthew 10:40-42

  Today I celebrate the anniversary of my ordination to the ministry of Word and Sacrament. It was nine years ago this month at the First Presbyterian Church in Uvalde where I was ordained and installed as pastor.  While it was a first for me, this church has witnessed many installation services as new pastors were called to Trinity or Wilshire. I can only imagine the number of ordination and installation services there have been for the elders. Many of you can remember yours.

 In our remembrance of those times it is fitting to recall our faithful laboring through study, and training, and the years we  have labored faithfully worshiping, and doing God’s ministry to one another and to the world.  We can be mighty proud of our work thus far.

 Ordination is the act by which the church sets apart persons who have been called, through election by the church, to service. In our Presbyterian tradition and according to scripture, we call them presbyters. These presbyters may be ministers of Word and Sacrament or teaching elders, and active members of session, or ruling elders.

 Most importantly, the service itself is rooted in our baptism, which “is the basic Christian ‘ordination’.  In baptism, we are individually claimed as God’s own beloved sons and daughters and grafted into the body of Christ – the community of faith – the church.

 It was in our own baptism we were made disciples of Jesus Christ and called to serve others as if we were serving Christ himself.  This is a good day to remember and celebrate our baptism into the faith, for we are all called to be disciples of Jesus Christ.

  I was drawn to reminisce about these times by this morning’s scripture which reminds us of our personal call to service.  We hear it in Matthew’s gospel at the end of chapter 10 in the form of a call to welcome those doing God’s work, and to hear about their reward.

  “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; And whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple – truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

 Our call to welcome and give to “one of these little ones” God brings to us is clear. The promise of a reward, whether it is the reward of the righteous, or never losing our reward can be a bit tricky though.

 It sounds like welcoming the word of God connects us to God and being connected to God connects us to the reward of God’s salvation. That is what the reward of the righteous is. Our reward is found in being in a right relationship with God. God grants salvation through Christ’s cross, this is God’s atoning act of righteousness.

   This is a beautiful truth for this day of worship in our church. This is the sort of good news we want to hear. This is our day to celebrate who we have been as a church and as the faithful, who we are now, and who we will become.

 So it is right and good that we celebrate this day being ordained, all of us, being set apart, made holy. It is God’s truth and it is for each of us. It is God’s truth and it may be understood as our reward. A reward we may expect to receive this day, and every day. It is our reward for our faithfulness.

  Reward, I wonder if we should feel a little uncomfortable about this notion of being rewarded, being so lifted, and exalted, and the center of attention.

 Ernie Hinojosa began a new congregation in San Antonio. The place was doing well, far better than Pastor Ernie had dreamed. One day he found sanctuary in his office and prayed a lament to God: “I’m too young, I’m not strong enough to do this!” to which God very clearly replied, “Ernie, what made you think it was about you? It’s not about you; it’s about me. This is my work.”

 I am always struck by that line, “What made you think it was about you?” I have written that phrase in my journal, and wish I could burn it in my psyche because I need to be reminded of that truth every day.

 In the midst of an American culture that seems at every turn to tell us what we deserve, it is truly difficult to believe we are not the center of the universe where we deserve the best our world has to offer. That point of our deserving the best is reinforced time and time again. This world clearly proves to us, it is about us!

 Is it possible we are surrounded by false prophets who tell us what we want to hear? Jeremiah thought so. We read this morning his response to the prophet Hananiah.

 Hananiah was clearly preaching and prophesying what the people of Israel wanted to hear. They were in exile in Babylon. They wanted to go home, to their land, their temple, and their old way of life.

 So Hananiah took up the cry. He assured them all the temple vessels would be returned to Jerusalem and they were about to be set free from their exile. Jeremiah hoped so. He truly did. He wanted to go home too.

 But, that was not happening. The words Hananiah was saying had not come true. He preached exactly what the people wanted to hear, rather than taking the route of God’s truth, which was what Jeremiah had done.

 We are most familiar with another prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, who also decided to not preach what the people wanted to hear. Instead he preaches the way of God’s truth. Jesus says exactly what God wants him to say, even when it is not what we want to hear.

 In Matthew’s tenth chapter, Jesus has called us as his disciples and he sends us out to do God’s work, God’s work, where we will be on God’s side.

  Dear ones, this is the real meaning of our day of honor. This is our real reward, being about God, and not ourselves. The cost and reward of being a disciple is that we must surrender to the fact that it is not about us.

 Barbara Brown Taylor is a respected preacher and author. About this passage she says, “What the Bible tells us over and over again – what our lives tell us – is that the only reward for doing God’s work is doing God’s work. Period.”

 Susan Langhauser, another great preacher, says, “Let’s face it ‘What’s in it for me?’ is not a biblical question!”

 Brother Lawrence, a humble 17^th-century monk, having nothing found himself quite well off, which he attributed to the fact that he sought only God, and not Gods gifts. He was not interested in any ones, “What’s in it for me?” question. He believed that God is much greater than any of the simple gifts God gives us. Rather, he chose to look beyond the gift, hoping to learn more about God as God. It actually became his desire to avoid receiving any reward, so that he would have the pleasure of doing something solely for God. He would agree with Taylor. The reward for doing God’s work is doing God’s work, period.

  God has placed within our hearts a desire to be in relationships and when in a genuine relationship we do not ask, what is in it for me. A true relationship should not be about us.

 We see the fruits of a true relationship when the line between our self and the other become blurred. Two in a relationship become one as they become friends, as they fall in love, as they become parents, or as they become the right thing they have done. It is not about us as an individual. We die to self, remember, and are born anew.

  This point was made in the story of a women’s Bible study group. They had chosen to study Malachi 3:3, where God “will sit as a refiner, a purifier of silver.”

 Not really understanding that concept, one of the women volunteered to find out about the process of refining silver. She made an appointment and on arriving at the silversmith’s shop, was escorted to the place of refining. The smith held the piece of silver right in the center of the flame. The woman thought about what that might say about how God deals with us, and she asked the smith, “Do you have to hold the silver in the hottest part of the fire?” “Oh yes, “he replied. “If I look away for a moment it could get too hot and be destroyed. If I don’t let it get hot enough, it will not become pure and therefore workable for my purposes.” “But how do you know when it is refined?” asked the woman. The silversmith replied, “When I can see my own image in the silver, I know it is pure.”

 This is Gods’ truth.  God sits as a refiner, a purifier of each of us. Our baptism, our individual refinement as God’s own beloved sets us apart to serve God. It is so not about us. The reward of doing God’s work is simply doing God’s work.

 Our celebration this morning, our reward, is not about you or me. It is about God, and our union with God, and all that God has created.

Our celebration and reward in this new light naturally draws us together for we do desire God’s truth. In this desire we live with the conviction God has given us authority for our journey and in that journey we are living to do Gods’ work.

 So let us do that work until the moment when the Creator’s image can be seen in us. For at that moment we will know for certain, it is most definitely not about us.

 In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen                                                                   062914.gpc

22 June 2014 “A Word of Challenge” Matthew 10:24-39

 My friend from Tennessee, Mary Rogers, reminded me one day, “God promises to teach us if we will get in touch with his word.” Mary is right. There is no substitute for our reading and hearing Scripture. We know it is God’s Word.  We know it tells the story of God’s son Jesus Christ. We know its teaching deepens our love, knowledge, and service of God with Jesus as our Savior and Lord through the presence of the Holy Spirit. We know it is the Holy Spirit who spoke through the prophets and apostles, and who inspires us with the desire for the truth that Scripture contains.  

 We also know there are many ways God teaches. But God’s word, when read from scripture, is inspired by God and is, as 2 Timothy says, “useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness.” We also know what others have said. “The gospel is a message the world, by and large, does not want to hear.”

 Our text this morning may have provoked such a claim.  Jesus tells us that he comes not to bring peace, but a sword. He tells us he has come to set a son against his father, and a daughter against her mother. This is strong language. Perhaps not what you would expect to hear on Sunday.

 Who wants to be part of a God who comes not to bring peace, but a sword? Who wants to be part of a God who comes to set children against their parents? This is a God we are likely to tell, “no, thanks, we are fine, please do not come near us.” Do not come into our world and especially do not come to this town, on our street, and into our life.

 This particular sense of the God of power and might is all too familiar. It is hell fire and damnation and the God of the law bringing a very clear and harsh message of a life of following orders.  Do this, do not do that. We know the commitment to a life with this God is directed to stop us from a life of self-interest and maximized personal pleasures, but it is repressive.

 Then there is another view. It is the view of that sword being two-edged. God’s message does cut through our demi-god life styles. But, on the other side of that edge we find the God of love, the God of the covenant, the promise of forgiveness and eternal salvation.

 Of course this two-edged sword cuts both ways. One way, the self-centered way, is to be cut off from God. The other, the God centered way, is to be in covenant with God to receive God’s grace through faith.

  In the Old Testament the early language for God’s covenant agreements with Noah, Abraham, and David used the word “cut” as if to cut a deal. The cutting of the sacrificial animals was a sign that a deal, a covenant, a promise, had been cut, or made, with the people of Israel. This is the good side of God’s sword. God cuts a deal with us, a covenant promise of eternal salvation.

  Clayton Schmit has written, “Jesus came to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, sight to the blind and freedom to the oppressed. While we are probably not poor, or captive, or blind, or oppressed we do have our own personal prayers for healing, for a return to a better day, for release from addictions   The gospel is bad news for those who are of the world and do not know of their need to be made new in Christ.”

  In these truths the message of Christ becomes personal and perhaps even offensive. It is bad news because Jesus called for people to change. But, we do not want to change. We are like the rich man who asked God how he could enter the kingdom of heaven. Proclaiming his devotion to the church and to his stewardship of time and talents he followed all the rules. Jesus told him to sell all he has, then come and follow only me. Dare to be on my side. He faltered and stumbled and turned from Jesus.

 Abraham Lincoln had great insight on these truths. He said, “Our task should not be to invoke religion and the name of God by claiming God’s blessing and support for us, our family, our jobs, our plenty – saying in effect that God is on our side. Rather, Lincoln said, we should pray and worry earnestly whether we are on God’s side.” 

 What a wake up call from Lincoln. We do not draw God to our side. No, we leave our side and ask if we are on God’s side.  God’s side is often so different than ours. We start out in this world, we live in it, we conform to it, and we mirror it. But with age, and experience, we discover a better way, we discover grace, hope, joy, and love and our desire is to share these things. Living this way we discover the world to be oppressive and living the way of the world becomes offensive.

 God does call us to change. Not to live according to law alone, but according to love. To be inclusive, to be willing to touch the filthy, unholy, mess of humanity just as Jesus did. This is not the view of life our world has, is it?

 Perhaps it is that sword thing again. We are being cut off from the rest of the world when we profess Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. We are being cut off from our friends and yes, even our families, when they choose the path the world has provided to the exclusion of the gospel message of a better world to come. Some folks who know us as Christians who not only talk the talk, but walk the walk ignore us. Most just tolerate us because we really don’t push our faith, our belief, even our love, on them. Folk are tolerant because we hide our true passion.

 Then we hear from Jesus, “What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops.”

  Now what do we say? What do we do? Are we to say and live the same message that has always gotten Christians in trouble, that Jesus has come to change the world. People who do not know Jesus, people who live solely focused on making their life better for themselves, do not like to be told what to do. Especially if the message is they will have to abandon their worldly focus, centered on themselves, and sell it all.

 That sword from Christ separates the faithful from the rest of the world. It even may separate us from our father on earth, our mother too, if we sell it all to follow Jesus.

 Our world, society, family, friends do not want things upset. Jesus’ message, the one we are to live by, the one we are to shout from the rooftop, is a message too radical for this world. The hippies were right, we are to live by love, we are to forgive one another, we are to seek justice, and be agents of reconciliation. The world merely groans.

 But we are tired. We have done our part. We have changed. We are here aren’t we? Surely we are done with changing? What more have we to give up? What more are we to shout from the rooftops? This world is filled with endless needy people and if we go on shouting from the roof tops the world will hate us for it.

 Perhaps, but this is bigger than this world can imagine. It is bigger than us. Those who live for their life in the world alone are not living at all, for they will die an earthly death with no hope of the good news of Jesus Christ. Oh, you hear them talk about their faith in God. They claim God is on their side. They see their success and their stuff as evidence that God is on their side.

Jesus said it, those who find their life on their own terms first, as they see fit to value it, to live it according to their self-styled set of rules and regulations for their sole benefit, their life will be lost. No matter how loudly they shout from the rooftops, “Follow me to the riches the world has to offer, God is on my side.”

 On the other hand, Jesus said, those who lose their lives for my sake will find it. The life we loose is the life of the self-proclaimed. We faithfully do not let it be our reason for living. We turn instead to see whether we are on God’s side.

 Being on God’s side joins us with God’s passion for caring for all in God’s world. It is welcoming, inclusive, and inviting to all who draw a breath and discover their life changes them in ways they love, and in ways they feel cut to the quick. No one, even those who want to claim God is on their side, is left out of the conversation.

 The two-edged sword of the gospel cuts deeply for those who follow it today. Yet, it does cut both ways. For the godly life is not just a life of separation and sacrifice. It is also a life of fullness and satisfaction.

  Dear ones, we do not have more to give up. We have more to receive. When we die to the seductive ways of the world we live in the richness of God’s hope, God’s love, and God’s grace. So filled with the unbridled passion and love we have for God we proclaim a contrary message to the world that is filled with faith, honesty, compassion, freedom, justice, and joy. We live a changed life. A life on God’s side.

  This church, and these few hard scrabble folk who have gathered, have shown the world whose side we are on. Oh, we may not always have our “I have decided to follow Jesus” t-shirt on. Some day’s life is just too raw.

  But we have changed. We know to play God’s card. We know this place, and our love for it, and our love for one another, and God pull’s us through.

 This is the edge we prefer. Being on God’s side, being faithful as servants doing God’s work on our little corner of this world, ignoring the screams of another way. Having changed to become people who love, who bring hope where all seems lost, our desire is to live this good news.

  Jesus Christ has never changed, nor will we.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

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01 June 2014 “The Voice” John 17:1-11

 Since Easter we have been in a long period of farewell with Jesus. We have been wearing the white of the Easter season to mark the time. Then, this past Thursday, Jesus led his disciples “as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.” It was the day of the Ascension of our Lord.

 We recall our collective sigh of relief on April 20 when Jesus rose from his grave. Since then we have lived with him through the scriptures as he has been meeting with his disciples, having long walks with them, staying in their homes, sharing meals with them, hearing of their hopes and dreams, and teaching them.

 By now we should finally understand God loves us. Jesus is our Messiah, he is our Christ.  He was not kidding when he told us about himself from the beginning. He has come to save the world and to save each of us.

 Central to these stories in John, when compared to Matthew, Mark and Luke, is the unique and unprecedented access we have through Jesus to God.  Jesus, we have learned, shares in God’s character and identity.

 “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1) and it is as the Word made flesh that Jesus brings God fully to the world. “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a fathers’ only son, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:14)

 Following his time on earth, and during these post-resurrection days we have been taught to remember that Jesus has prepared a place for us to be eternally with him. We know firmly the way to that place is through Jesus. That way is not known from a book, or a place, or what anyone says they believe to be the truth about who Jesus is, even who God is. No. Jesus Christ, himself, He is the only way.

 Knowing this, our desire is to be with him always, to hear his voice again, and to never let him go. Our desire is the desire of disciples past. It is to really feel, and know, and be present, today, this very moment, and the next, with Jesus.

 Yet, in the midst of our chaotic lives we hardly feel Jesus’ presence.

Where is he when we pray we need all the Godly help we can get? Where is he when we pray he show us how to live a faith filled life so we can be sure about his promises?

 We just wish Jesus would show up for us. We wish we could hear his voice speaking clearly to our heart and soul. So many times we ask, where could he possibly be?  John’s reading this morning tells us.

 “And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”

 Jesus’ last words to his disciples are this prayer. We learn from it he prays the way we pray. Holy Father, protect them. Holy Father, guard them. Holy Father, keep them. They are still in the world.

 Then he prays for us in a way only Jesus could pray. It follows today’s scripture. “I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world.”

 What a strange thing to say. How can we be in the world, but not of it? Perhaps Jesus’ point is as his disciples, as folk who believe in him, trust in him, wish we could live in obedience and love him, we do not belong to this world. We belong instead to Jesus’ world.

 Perhaps our life long quest is to finally discover that world.

 I have read of a family that has given up television. They want to remind themselves and their children: this box does not own us!

 I have heard it said there are people who designate one day a week as their “car-less” day. They won’t drive, or accept a ride in anyone else’s car. If they need to go some where, they walk or ride their bike. They want to remind themselves: this gasoline does not own me!

  A colleague knows a family that keeps a supply of homemade paper sack lunches in the trunk of the car. The children wrap up peanut butter sandwiches, and then pack them with pieces of fruit, granola bars, cookies, and such. If they see a person asking for assistance on the way to school, they stop the car. The children offer a paper sack lunch and a smile. They want to remind us: this myth of scarcity does not own us! This love less world does not own us!

 There is a pastor who takes himself on an ‘artists date’ once a week. He sets aside two hours to do something completely different, like walking around an art gallery, or going to see a foreign film, or sitting at the bus station and just watching the people who get off, to see life in different ways. The practice feeds his soul, and rejuvenates his spirit. It gives him energy to manage his overloaded calendar. He wants to remind himself: time or the lack of it, does not own me!

 We see these responses to life all around us. Folk volunteer at the hospital or at hospice. Folk help out in the schools or at the library. Folk volunteer at church to help keep the community going, to help bring fellowship to a gathering of the faithful, to visit with a sick friend, an aging parent, to help a stranger, a foreigner, a widow, a child. Living and speaking the voice of love. We want to remind ourselves: this world does not own us!

 But, God’s world, and God’s love does!

  We have experienced this truth in this church. We have heard this voice from God in the form of the love that is here.  At the pulpit, as some of you read our blessed texts, we have heard the voice of love. From this choir loft; in these pews, at fellowship, when we sing with our hearts unfettered, or gather for Bible study, or at session meetings, or congregational dinners, or impromptu gatherings around town, we have heard the voice of God’s love.

 This real life person, Jesus Christ has brought us this voice of love. A voice teaching us who we are, a voice teaching us to which world we belong.

 Jesus spent this Easter season to teach us his life on earth was not a thirty three year once in a life time incursion. The truth of the gospel is God is still present, as physical and real today as God was in the historical time. The body of Christ is still with us today.

 Dearest ones, in many ways we are the believers the apostle Paul speaks of in 1 Corinthians when he affirms, “We are Christ’s body.” Literally, the body of believers, like the Communion Eucharist we take this morning, is the Body of Christ in an organic way. We believers are not a mystical reality, not something that represents Christ, we are something that is Christ. We have within our mind, and heart, and soul the spark of divinity.

  Ronald Rolheiser, in his book “The Holy Longing”, says “if it is true that we are the Body of Christ, and it is, then God’s presence in the world today depends very much upon us. We have to keep God present in the world in the same was as Jesus did. We have to become, as Teresa of Avila so simply put it, God’s physical hands, feet, mouthpiece, and heart in this world.”

  Dear ones, Christ Jesus is the spark in our souls. We are where he has gone. We are his hands, his feet, his mind, his heart. We live so that he may live. He has ascended into heaven, but we are here to carry on his work. We are here to glorify him and bring his hope, and his strength, and his love to this hurting world.

 We do not belong to this world. This world does not own us. We are one with God and God alone.  So we can live in this world as God’s protected, and we can show God to the world letting our spark bring eternal light, lasting hope, and eternal love.

  In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen                                      060114.gcp

18 May 2014 “Dependents” John 14:15-21

   This John passage is one of my favorites. It is, I believe, a great comfort and promise when we struggle with life and particularly with death.

   I heard it read during the telecast of the funeral for President Gerald Ford. I was so captured by the grandeur of the cathedral where the service was being held I was not paying particular attention to what was being said. Speakers and pastors came and went when one in particular surprised me. As the scripture was being read I recognized it immediately.

 My first thought was, oh no, not here, this reading is so deeply personal. I thought the televised proceedings and the very public nature of the event was not the place for this passage. For those weeping for their loved one I feared this reading might be too raw a reminder that death filled the room.

  But there is such a reverence and sincerity about the piece.  It is Jesus’ boldest promise and at the time, I realized, the world will hear it! There were former Presidents, world leaders, and dignitaries at the service and these words of hope were the ones promising a power greater than the greatest power this world has to offer. Influence, and prestige, and dominance were being shown a safer place.

 These simple, intimately personal words directed to the family and friends of the President of the United States of America trumped the greatest powers this world has known. These same words were true not just for them; they are true for us too.

 The effect of these words and Jesus’ promise means he has extended his power to include all of us, the highest and the lowest, President and pauper alike. We all have a place with God in heaven. God’s power gives eternal life, and gives it in abundant love.

 John spoke to the hurting world that day as he does this, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?”  Jesus tells us, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me.” No matter the trouble, no matter what happens, we have a place with God.

  It is not uncommon for us to find such a place prepared for us growing up. It was true for my brother, sisters, and cousins. At some point in our young lives we all found ourselves living with my grandparents. It was the place God had prepared for us when our young worlds were crumbling. It was our sanctuary, our safe place to be. When troubling waters began to swell at home, our parents knew one safe place for their children. Grandmother and Granddaddy’s was such a place. Unknown to us and perhaps even undeserving, God had prepared that way for us.

 Not only was it a safe place to be, it was a safe place to grow. We lived through our teens relatively intact. We were told we had to have jobs. We had to finish high school. Everyone living there had to work.  Everyone had to follow the rules. Everyone had to carry their weight. We learned to live the right way.

 Along the way we were deeply loved and safely cared for and we felt safe and our lives began to have meaning. We discovered life and relationships in a place prepared for us where our lives might do the works that Jesus had for us. God had prepared that place for us and we were not alone.

  In her book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek the author Annie Dillard tells how God prepared her in her safe place for the work Jesus had for her.

 She says, “When I was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, I used to take a precious penny of my own and hide it for someone else to find. It was a curious compulsion; sadly, I’ve never been seized by it since. For some reason I always ‘hid’ the penny along the same stretch of sidewalk up the street. I would cradle it at the roots of a sycamore, say, or I a hole left by a chipped-off piece of sidewalk. Then I would take a piece of chalk, and starting at either end of the block, draw huge arrows leading up to the penny from both directions. After I learned to write I labeled the arrows: Surprise ahead or Money this way. I was greatly excited, during all the arrow-drawing, at the thought of the first lucky passerby who would receive in this way, regardless of merit, a free gift from the universe.”

 It seems God has been drawing arrows from the time of creation. Come here, I have prepared a place for you. Live with your grandparents. Follow this way. Find a gift greater than a penny. Follow this way and discover your savior, discover the unmerited gift of God’s grace.

 This story of God’s grace is told again and again throughout scripture. For Abraham and the nation of Israel God attempted to direct them to the promised land. God sent Moses to lead his people out of slavery, through the wilderness and toward that same promised land.

 God sent Moses to give the people God’s law. God sent prophets to speak of a Messiah who would bring new direction to God’s grace. That Messiah, Jesus, came with completed directions to God’s grace and even paved our way to it.

 Yet with all this help we have difficulty following God’s directions.

 These two we read about this morning were no different. They were fearful and Jesus’ attempt to calm them and give them peace shows the depth of their struggle. Jesus wants them to know peace following his death and assures them he will prepare a safe place for them.

 But Thomas does not buy it. “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

 Jesus assures them he is the arrow on the sidewalk that will lead them and us to God. He promises he is the grace they will receive to which the arrow points. Yet, like those before us, we have difficulty following God’s direction.

 The truth in John’s gospel of our life being centered in God’s grace is what is difficult for us to believe. We are the ones doubting. We are the ones who rebel and strike out on our own thinking God needs our help. God must, for our life plan is not working out like we think it should!

  There is a wonderful story of a traveler from Italy who came to the French town of Chartres to see the great church that was being built. He encountered a workman, covered with dust and asked what he did. The man replied he was a stonemason. He had spent his days carving rock.

 A second man responded he was a glass-blower and spent his days making colored glass. Still another replied he was a blacksmith who hammered iron for a living.

 Finally, the traveler came upon an older woman with a broom in her hand. She was sweeping up stone chips, wood shavings, and glass. He asked what she was doing and she responded. “Me? I’m building a cathedral for the Glory of Almighty God.”

  Is this not what we are doing here at Genesis Presbyterian Church?

 Jesus would tell us we are building a cathedral for the glory of God. Jesus would tell us we are drawing arrows on the sidewalk pointing the way to God’s kingdom.

It is time for us to bring out our brooms and our mops and our hammers and saws and perhaps even our sidewalk chalk and continue our work. For we are called by God to hide pennies in sycamore trees and in a hole left by a chipped-off piece of sidewalk and write with bold letters for all to see, Surprise ahead, Jesus is this way.”

 Come, therefore, dear ones to this place to receive in Jesus, regardless of merit, a free gift from God’s kingdom. Receive the unearned gift of this safe place to be, this church, this place in the arms of God’s grace, this place of unconditional love God has prepared solely for you and for me.

 Resist no more the many rooms, some familiar, some strange, some darkened by our reluctance to enter there. Come to those places opened by our Lord who sees our need before we approach him with heart or voice and know his way.

 For He is forevermore our way, he is for all time our truth, and he is, beyond death, the love of our life.

These are the places God has prepared for us.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen                                                         051814.gpc

04 May 2014 Our Journey Luke 24:13:35

  I wonder how many of us thought we would retire and travel and wine and dine in leisurely bliss. Now we chuckle at the thought.  Or maybe it’s just me. I think of the energy it would take and sit for the moment to pass. But we are travel minded folk. Many of us take our day trip, or the one night stay, or occasionally a traditional vacation.

 This morning’s travel story began innocently enough. The men are on their way to Emmaus. It is an easy day trip of roughly seven miles from Jerusalem. It is a road we too take for it is the story of the Christian walk. It is the one where we encounter life and are found along the way by the one we pursue, our Jesus.

 These men in Luke’s gospel were on their way, talking about the things they had heard about Jesus, the one they thought would be their savior, and how things had gone wrong, and how now they hear he has been raised from the grave. One day he was hanging on the cross, and then three days later people they know said he had actually appeared to them alive.

 Then Jesus came along and walked with them, though their eyes were kept from recognizing him. They were on their road going about their going about when Jesus shows up. This innocent trip is innocent no more.

 Being so overwhelmed with what was happening in their world, our men cannot stop themselves from telling even this assumed stranger about their world. They did not know their way down this road filled with worry, and concern, and lost hope was now Jesus’ way too.

  This is where Jesus always wants to be in our lives. Those places where our heart is broken and we ache from the distress of life forcing life upon us. Jesus does not shy away from such a road and he longs to go with us on ours as we unload what troubles our minds and burdens our hearts. He walks with us listening as only one who loves us listens. Just as likely, all too often it seems, like these two on their way to Emmaus, we do not see Jesus either.

  Yet, with this story we hear there is hope for us. These two travelers ultimately recognized him. It happened when he was with them at table. He blesses the bread, breaks it and says, “Take, eat, this is my body, broken for you.” At these words their eyes were opened to who he was. “This is our Jesus and he is breaking bread with us. He was here with us all along. Oh, how blind we can be!”

 Perhaps we do not need to be reminded of how blind we can be. Sometimes Jesus is the last thing on our minds. Sometimes we go all day long without a simple, “Hey Lord, what’s up with you today. I’m a bit busy and I pray you hold on to us while I sort things out.”

 It is sad to admit but our separation from Jesus goes largely unnoticed. I wonder how often we make the ride to work, or stop at the store, or do our chores at home finding activity and time steal our attention from everything but the task at hand?

 How often are we blind to the daily bread we pray for, not realizing in our activity and our longings Jesus has been with us all along? But our eyes so often do not recognize him. We seldom see nutrition and sustenance in the drama of our time, or our life, or our daily tension. We actually feel starved time and time again not knowing what really ails us is our desperate hunger for Jesus.

 If we realize Jesus is with us always, walking along the road we pave with our daily stuff, our Emmaus wanderings even here in Austin, or wherever we may be, wherever we are going, we give ourselves a chance to see with a new clearness and understanding. Our faith can do that for us.

When we are struggling with life, Jesus will be the friend who walks hand in hand and prays with us. When we are walking in the valley of the shadow of death, Jesus will be the woman at the bank who helps us through the red tape of wills, insurance, and safe deposit boxes. When we are anxious about a new home, or a new health circumstance, Jesus will be the one who walks with us to show us where our new store is or where our new support services for health care are.

 Dear ones, we do not walk alone.

 Life naturally unfolds for us in ways unexpected and we find ourselves thinking, what has happened to me. Like those fellow travelers to Emmaus we try and understand about life, and our hopes, and dreams, especially when things go wrong. We dissect and rehash and are in disbelief. How have things become so out of control? What did I do?

 These are the times we need a long walk and a long talk with ourselves. These are the times Jesus will have things to say to us. These are the times Jesus feels what is deepest in our hearts and knows what we do not know about ourselves or what we will not admit to ourselves.

 These are the times Jesus shows up as a spouse, a friend, a trusted sibling, a pew mate, or even a stranger. And we will know in our hearts his love has found us. We will feel it in our very souls, Jesus is with us. Jesus is speaking through this other, living through the one we lest expect, loving through the one loving us back.

 With Jesus, we never walk alone.

  I suppose we need not be reminded we find ourselves on such walks all too often. When we are not walking it ourselves we fall in with someone else who is taking their turn. Look around you this morning. See who is here and who is not.

 We know, without thinking twice, who has had to walk the road of despair, yesterday or today, and we know for some it will be a day trip, and for others it will take longer. We know too who needs us to fall in with them, so they will not walk alone. Because we love one another, we do not want anyone to walk alone. So we fall in with one another; you and me, and of course, our savior, Jesus falls in too.

 Some of you may remember seeing the movie, Schlinder’s List. The movie is a powerful and extremely difficult story about the Holocaust. It tells the story of Oskar Schindler, who was a wartime profiteer. Yet, for reason even Schindler apparently did not understand he became obsessed with the idea of saving as many Jews as he could. As a result, he saved some eleven hundred of them.

 The movie is filmed almost entirely in black and white like a documentary or an old newsreel. But, every now and then, usually in some crowd scene of children playing, or people running, or being herded into freight cars, you see, flickering like a candle flame in the dank grayness, one single touch of color in the form of a little girl dressed in red.

  Frederick Buechner tells us he believes, “that although the two disciples did not recognize Jesus on the road to Emmaus, Jesus recognized them. That he saw them as if they were the only two people in the world. He believes Jesus also sees us like that. In this dark world with little hope, where we see so little because of our unrecognizing eyes, Jesus, whose eye is always on the sparrow, sees each one of us as the child in red.

 As Buechner says, hope “is the word that on Easter Sunday is sounded forth on silver trumpets. And when Easter is past and the silver trumpets have faded,” and we have sung Joy to the World, hope “is the word that flickers among us like a red dress in a grey world.”

  In our grief we cannot see enough to go looking for Jesus, so he finds us. He walks with us and takes a place at our table where he opens our eyes to his presence. The filters of life are stripped away – filters of disappointment, loss, isolation, and fear and we recognize him.

 That is what Jesus does with us because he loves us. Breaking the daily bread, feeding our fractured souls we now see our way to hope clearly.

 Those two on that road were right, Jesus Christ has risen indeed, and we do not walk alone.

 Let the people of God say, amen.

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13 April 2014 “The Examination” Matthew 26:14-27:66

 Jesus had been trying to tell us this was going to happen. Over and over again he tried to teach us about his destiny and our own. For some reason we just never understood.

 Last week his warning was clear in Lazarus’ story. Jesus loved Lazarus. His sisters were worried about how sick Lazarus was, so sick he might die. Jesus knew Lazarus must in order for him to go to his tomb and say “take away the stone”, then “Lazarus come out!” He knew Lazarus would then come out alive. Alive, so all there would know the Glory of God and the life to which a believer is called.

Lazarus was not the first to live and die, then live again. He would not be the last. There was a young man named Eutychus. He had gone to church and the preacher went on a bit too long preaching and Eutychus, who was sitting in a window, fell asleep and tumbled to the ground three floors below and was picked up dead.

 Paul went down to Eutychus and took him in his arms and said, “Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him.” And the boy came out alive. Again, another lesson about the Glory of God and the life to which a believer is called.

 These three, Lazarus, Eutychus, and now Jesus, have been called by God to die, so that when God calls them to life again, God will be glorified.

 But we continue to not understand.  Why live, suffer then die? Is there not another way? Lazarus, Eutychus, and even Jesus asked the same question.  How does life, suffering, and death glorify God?

 Jesus has been crucified. How cruel a fate! How can Jesus’ death glorify anyone? He is to be the Messiah; he is the Son of God after all. There is no reason for this.

 Shamefully, we still do not understand Jesus’ full teaching and especially this morning we find our emotion ground to an abrupt halt. We find the promise Jesus made of resurrection in three days impossible.

  Our emotions have been ground to this halt before.  Right here, in the life of our church family we have known life, suffering, and death.

  “While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.”

 That fateful night Jesus became the substance we need, he brought to us the nutritional embodiment we need. This is the glory of God that Jesus freely offers to us. But first, he must die.

 His life is the offering that will save us. His life is the offering that will call us out of our tomb. His will then take us into his arms, calling us from our cross to follow him. It is his body and blood, his death, this shared fate that

relieves us from the one hunger that only he can relieve us from, the hunger for eternal salvation. The hunger for forgiveness and everlasting love that only our Messiah, our Savior, Our Lord, Jesus Christ brings.

 Often we are confused about our hunger pains. True enough we hunger for food, but we also hunger for love and joy and peace of mind. Then we trick ourselves with worldly passions and do things that mask how malnourished we really are.

 We feel like nothing we do is right, that we are broken and not worth fixing, our self worth sinks below even a worthiness of desperation. But we are not crazy, we are not weak, we are not useless. We are simply hungry. And there is nothing left for us to do but stop and eat. We break the bread, and remember Jesus’ promise, “This is my body broken for you.”

  When we feel our life light flickering, we must keep coming to his table. We must keep passing his cup. Jesus prays we understand he will never again drink from his cup until that day when he drinks it new with us in his Father’s kingdom. Such sweet hope!

  But today, with many who loved him, we sit opposite the tomb for we must wait.  We must wait, for Jesus’ tomb lies secured and we have three days to prepare for his promise.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen                                                041314.gpc

06 April 2014 “Raise This” John 11:1-45

  Could Lazarus have known?  He had been ill and must have felt how serious it was. Did he hold out hope like his sisters, Martha and Mary that Jesus would somehow make time for him and work one of his miracles to stop this from happening? Or was his fate out of his hands?

  The April issue of the literary magazine The Sun is dedicated to essays, memoirs, and true stories about death. While the subject matter may cause some to head straight for the recycling, this is Lent and like Lazarus, Jesus knew how serious life was about to become.

   So what might death have to say about life?  In a short story by Linda McCullough Moore we have a first person account from Maggie.

   “Today I walk the shoreline only in my mind, when I so wanted to walk by the sea, to feel the wind, to walk through the stormy weather, unafraid. I’m “being held,” I heard them say. For my “protection.” My body and the rest of me, aged eighty-seven years, sit in a tiny cell with whitewashed walls.”

  Martha and Mary sat in a similar cell with Lazarus. He was stranded in his mind and likely knew not the weather or his place. He must have heard their whispers. Send word to Jesus and tell him, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.”

 “It seems to Maggie the storm has strong-armed the night and will not let her jailers cross the causeway to transport her to some suitable asylum on the mainland, nor will it permit her daughter Andrea to come and fetch her. Finally they tell her Andrea is on her way. ‘I should have thought to have more children, she muses. I don’t know what I was thinking.’”

 Jesus knows the storm has not passed. The storm keeps him from Lazarus. He knows there is a better place to be. A place so vital he waits for the better transport. He knows Lazarus is Ill. He also knows his illness is not leading to the sort of death expected, but to an intervention by Jesus to restore his life, and to glorify God. So he waits.

  “Maggie answers, ‘The past.’ This is her quick reply to the social worker who has come to ask where she might like to live. ‘Nineteen forty-six,’ she says, ‘would be my first choice.’ Back before I can remember. I would spend my days peppering the family with questions, asking, must it come to pass the way it does? Is there nothing we can do?

 ‘Don’t sell the house,’ she tells Andrea after the social worker leaves. ‘We have to. We need the money for the nursing home. If I don’t go, then we don’t need the money.’

  Maggie does not believe God wants life to end this way. When her grandmothers got old – seventy-one and seventy-eight – they each one had a heart attack and died, and we were sad beyond all bearing.

   ‘If you are to know your ending, first you must feel the color gray wrapped round your head and shoulders like a thin fog your sight could easily penetrate were the wispy mists not endless. It is not the thickness of the fog it is how far it goes, how long it lasts.’ Maggie’s story lasted now too long, and she had lived too much of it alone.

 At one point, when the thought of life all alone alarmed her she left the house and swore not to return until she had met a man with a loneliness as strong and enduring as hers, so they might pool their sorrows. She met the mailman coming up the walk. ‘Are you lonely?’ she asked. ‘Of course,’ he said and handed Maggie her mail. ‘But there are things far worse than that.’ He turned and walked away, and Maggie went back inside.”

Martha and Mary felt sure that if Jesus had come when their brother was ill they would not know this loneliness in his death. They were sure he would be healed and would certainly not die. They base their plea on the Lord’s love for their brother and their love for him.

  Jesus, as we will discover, is looking beyond death. He too knows the loneliness in life but he hands us our mail and acknowledges there are things far worse than that. If we are not in love with our God things will be far, far worse for us.

 Then Jesus assures us, death for those who believe will not be the final outcome of this illness of the human condition. When the dust settles we will realize the glory of God. But first, Lazarus must die. Nothing seems worse.

  “Maggie wakes with a start and does not know where she is. She blinks a few times. The light from the window seems to grow brighter, but slowly, as if God has God’s finger on the dimmer switch. She is in a room she has never seen before. ‘I was afraid this might happen,’ she says, ‘that I would wake up one morning and not recognize the world.’”

  Martha meets Jesus when he finally comes to their house. Her soul is overcome by grief over the death of a brother whom she loved. She no longer recognizes her world.  But, she is also a disciple of Jesus, so her heart and soul are filled with reverence for her Lord. Hers is a heart stirred to its very depths, and swaying between grief and hope.

 Jesus tells Martha, even though Lazarus has died he will rise again. He assures her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Then he asked Martha if she believed this. She did not waver, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

  At the tomb he assures us once again, “Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?” If we would only believe, if we would have even the faintest faith, by that faith alone, these great truths become ours. As a result of who Jesus is, the resurrection and the life, the life of one who believes always conquers death.

 Then his proof, Jesus says, “Lazarus, come out.” And Lazarus does. He too is in a world he has never seen before. You see, the dead respond this way to Jesus’ call. The glory of God, the revelation of God’s wonderful healings in power and love, grace and forgiveness were there for all to see in Lazarus coming alive from the tomb. And Lazarus feels it in all its glory. Resurrection life, a new life where there will be suffering and pain no more.

 We know what this life requires. Faith, deep love and trust. Allowing our worldly life to die in order for our glorified life to begin. It is just a lot to ask, to believe and have faith and be sure about this born again promise.

The Quaker’s have a saying, “Let your life speak.” “Before you tell your life what you intend to do with it, listen for what it intends to do with you. Before you tell your life what truths and values you have decided to live up to, let your life tell you what truths you embody, what values you represent.”

 Before we can tell our life what we want to do with it, we must listen to our life telling us who we are. That is if we believe. That is if we hear God.

  God has a purpose and an intention for our life that we might not know of if we do not listen. How can we be sure God is speaking to us? The answer is that we learn by experience. The key is to focus more on building our personal relationship with our Creator and less on what we think God wants us to do the rest of today. We are to focus less on our questions and more on our relationship with God.

Truth and values are being revealed in God’s holy word each Sunday and the voice of our life will speak in these stories being told even from this pulpit. Our concern for discerning or knowing God’s voice must be overwhelmed by and lost in our worship and adoration of God and in our delight with God’s creation and God’s provision for our whole life.

 “Maggie wakes up in a pleasant room, the sort of room she could have spent a happy childhood in, and then grown to be some calm and gentle person. ‘This room is too late,’ she says. ‘How can I change now?’ I always meant to change. I did. Even on my eighty-fifth birthday I made a list of ways I would be different.’ ‘You don’t need to change a thing.’ It’s her grandma Harriet. ‘You’re perfect as you are.’

 ‘I didn’t know you’d be here,’ Maggie says. ‘I should have been with you on the night you died, but I didn’t know that you were dying I never thought that you would die. When I was little, did you know you would be with me here tonight?’

 Maggie thought in heaven it would be all glaring yellow lights and swarms of angels. She did not know that it would be a congregation of the ones she loved so, all of them, only whole, not damaged or distracted, not impatient or asthmatic; not themselves, or not themselves as they were, but beautiful and better.’”

 The death and resurrection of Lazarus, and Jesus, and our very selves become those pleasant rooms in the reawakening of born again spiritual measure. We worry it is too late. We worry we must change. But our God loves us the way we are. Our God sees perfection in our halting and unsure love despite our worry. Our God will always be with us. Always.

 “‘Wait for the music now,’ Maggie says. ‘What music, Mother?’ Andrea hands her a glass of water with a straw. She has always, always loved a straw. ‘She wants some music,’ Andrea says. Her voice is far away.

 ‘Stand up nice and straight now.’ Grandmother Harriett spits on her finger and smooth’s down her fair. ‘You’re ready. You look beautiful.’

 ‘Maggie, Maggie,’ her dad says, and he bends to kiss the top of her head, and then takes her hand.

 The flowers that she holds, the baby’s breath and lilies, quiver.

 The music sounds. The people stand up.

 We start down the aisle.”

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen                                                    040614.gpc