Elijah

I Kings18:20-39; Luke 7:1-10

 

Elijah was a rock star. I find it hard to believe that someone in Hollywood has not put Elijah on the silver screen. He came out of nowhere, left in a fiery chariot and even owned a cape. Elijah rivals Batman with mood swings that can only be described as half past midnight. Yet, when at his best, Elijah confidently straddles the crack of dawn and dares the sun to rise.

Elijah appeared in the midst of Israel’s darkest days. Sometimes I wonder why Elijah can’t reappear and resolve the mess that surrounds us. Yet there is something to be feared from resurrecting Elijah. With his fervor, comes a rage that will not tolerate compromise. This morning I want us to examine this mega-hero, the evil that necessitated his arrival, and then consider if the presence of Christ should make us wary of anyone with Elijah’s uncompromised zeal.

That last sentence makes me quake in my golf shoes. I love the story of Mount Carmel. One of my personal heroes, Isabel Rogers, told this story with such passion that Elijah has always been my main inspiration when there is a windmill to be attacked. Therein lies the problem. Is a knight in rusty armor the only solution to the complexities of the 21^st century? But before wrestling this dilemma, perhaps some of you are not familiar with the complexities faced by this ancient prophet.

Around 860 BCE, the northern kingdom of Israel was ruled by King Ahab. The somewhat bias writer of I Kings described Ahab as more evil than any of his predecessors. But Ahab’s reputation hardly rivaled that of his wife, Jezebel. She was a native of Sidon and instituted the worship of Ball as the official religion of the land. Baal was the god of rain, and fertility.

In response to this edict by Jezebel, Elijah the Tishbite appeared and declared Yahweh the one true God. Elijah warned Yahweh would expose the infertility of Baal by causing a draught throughout the land. In response, Jezebel arranged for all the prophets of Yahweh to be hunted down and slaughtered. Elijah became enemy number one in the Kingdom of Ahab while the people of Israel suffered three years without water. Only when there was no longer enough water for the king’s livestock did  Ahab demanded a meeting with Elijah. It was mutually decided Mt. Carmel would be where the confrontation was to be resolved.

One side of the mountain was occupied by 450 priest of Baal. Elijah stood alone. The citizens of Israel watched to see who would emerge victorious. Two alters were prepared, one to Baal and a one to Yahweh. The deity who lit the alter would be declared victorious.

The priest of Baal went first. All morning they offered prayers, sang songs, even mutilated themselves to show their loyalty to Baal. Elijah was not silent. He began to taunt the priest. “Maybe your god is hard of hearing. Maybe he has taken a trip. Maybe he is sleeping and you are not yelling loud enough. Maybe he just doesn’t care.”

Midday passed and Baal’s alter remained unlit. Now it was Elijah’s turn. Elijah took twelve stones, each representing one of the tribes of Israel and built an alter. Then Elijah had the people pour twelve buckets of water over the alter, completely soaking it. Finally Elijah spoke. “O God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel, I have done everything you have asked.  Let it be known that you are God.”

Lightening fell from heaven consuming the alter with fire. Wood, rock and water were all destroyed by the heat. The people of Israel fell on their faces and cried out, “Yahweh is God. Yahweh is God.” Then Elijah demanded the people seize the prophets of Baal and take them to the Kishon Valley. There they were slaughtered. When the killing ended, it began to rain.

With the exception of the Exodus from Egypt, no other story is more celebrated in the Old Testament. Like the Exodus, this is a demonstration of faith by one man. Like Pharaoh, Ahab and Jezebel represent evil personified. Both stories affirm the omnipotence and sovereignty of Yahweh. No one, not the witnesses, or the tellers of the stories or the future listeners to the stories seem to question the slaughter of the armies of Egypt or the priests of Baal. They picked the wrong guy and paid the price.

We don’t live in 9^th century Israel. Nonetheless our days are stained with stories of zealots killing and maiming others in the name of God. Do we equate the exploits of Elijah with those who conduct public executions? How do we handle accusations that, “My God is better than your God,” or “Our faith is better than your faith”?

I believe we live in a time when it is imperative that people of different faiths respect rather than denigrate each other. My faith story and my understanding of God came through the uniqueness of Jesus Christ. I believe there is a holy distinctiveness in folks who believe differently than I. It is not my wish to dilute my beliefs or the faith of another, but this can become sinking sand. So where do we begin?

I did not read the gospel text this morning so you will have to trust me that I am correctly telling the story. You can find it in the seventh chapter of Luke.

Jesus had finished a busy day of teaching. Seeking rest for the night Jesus entered the city of Capernaum, a fishing village on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee. A Centurion in the Roman Army sent some of the elders from the local Synagogue to see if Jesus might come and attend to one of his slaves who was ill. The elders informed Jesus that the soldier treated the people of Capernaum well and even helped them build their synagogue. Jesus got up immediately and went to the home of the centurion. Again friends of the centurion intercepted Jesus and said, “Our master does not believe himself worthy for you to come to his house. He knows that just a word from you will heal his slave.”  Jesus was touched by the humbleness of the Roman soldier and remarked, “Not in all of Israel have I seen such faith.” When the friends of the centurion returned to the house, they found the slave had been healed.

The Roman was a gentile. In the eyes of the Jewish people he was unclean. He was also a centurion. He was in charge of the garrison in Capernaum. The man held the power of life or death over this town yet it appears, in all of his actions, he chose life. Jesus immediately recognized this quality in the centurion. A Jew and a Gentile, a man of power and the son of a carpenter, find a holy intersection. Because of this connection, life, not death occurs.

Why was Jesus born into this world? I can fall back on my standard 101 theology and declare Jesus came to save the world from sin. But the answer is far more complicated. From the beginning God decreed that we choose life over death. How is that possible? We are commanded to love God and our neighbor, unconditionally.

Doesn’t this apply to the Prophets of Baal? This is a terribly complicated question into which I have to interject what I have been told concerning the personalities of Ahab and Jezebel. But in the gospels, a gentile was living as God desired and Jesus responded to his request.

Christians and Jews, Muslims and Hindus, Buddhist and even the non-religious are quick to condemn folks different from themselves simply because they are different. While I celebrate the bravery of Elijah, does anyone have the right to commit murder? I think we all weary of death in the name of God. Why not celebrate life in the name of God even if the name used to honor God might not be the one we choose?

Imagine being in a convocation of the great religions. One at a time the representative of each group is asked to stand and offer a phrase that he or she could never give up. The person representing Christianity thinks for a moment and then declares, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind, and you neighbor as yourself.” A man representing the Hebrew faith declared, “You have quoted from our books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy.” I honor your words.” One by one, representatives from every religion stood and said, “I also believe in those words.” The Christian was initially amazed, but then responded, “I’m sorry, what I meant to say was, ‘Love my God with all your heart, soul and mind.” The room fell silent as each representative returned to their seat.

Wouldn’t it be nice if our religions didn’t spend so much time on what we believed and worked harder on how God would have us treat each other? If your beliefs call for the death of another, are you following the voice of God? If your belief calls for you to love your neighbor, no matter who that neighbor might be, this certainly becomes complicated. But at least together, we are discussing life.

What distinguishes our faith from other religions is this unique character called Jesus through whom we have received the life giving gift of grace. Who are we to limit the parameters of this gift? Jesus certainly didn’t.         Amen.

Beyond Suffering

Romans 5:1-5

 

        Long ago, so long ago memories are often exaggerated, I worshipped a small white ball, stitched in red. Baseball was my life. Before I was seven I dreamed of playing shortstop for the Boston Red Sox. Such a goal demanded focus, commitment and an extraordinary skill set. I possessed two of the three. My battle cry was, “No pain, no gain.” Unfortunately no amount of pain can compensate for “warning track power.” Denied my dream, I eventually concentrated on  golf, an exercise in which mental anguish begins immediately after the ball is struck. But my approach has matured. I now recognize a bad shot as an opportunity to make something good happen. Every Friday I am given ample chances to test this strategy as I encounter trees, sand traps and water hazards. What is the source of such wisdom? Would you believe the Apostle Paul?

        As I have grown older, Romans 5:1-5 has become one of my go to verses. “Suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint.” I am not suggesting we need to become masochistic to fully understand God. But I do believe our society has become so drama driven we would rather complain than consider suffering as an opportunity to discover ourselves and the world around us.

        Imagine living in the world of Paul. I believe a major reason for the explosion of Christianity was the people who heard the preaching of Paul experienced suffering every day. Paul’s message did not resonate with the rich and powerful. His attempts to debate the intellectuals in Athens pretty much fell on deaf ears. The rich and the powerful understood their privilege as a blessing from the gods. They believed the rest of humanity only existed to uphold their advantageous position. “God is with us, therefore you will serve us,” is the declaration of any Empire. Paul’s audience came from the opposite end of the political and economic spectrum. The folks who worshipped in Corinth, and Philippi and Thessalonica were slaves and women. They had no ear for a god who would justify their station in society and therefore were quick to embrace Paul’s defiant message promising God’s concern for and presence with those who suffer.

        We misinterpret Paul if we believe the Book of Romans encourages folks to only look within themselves to find happiness. Paul wrote to a burdened people, overwhelmed by the whims of privileged folk who shared no concern for the existence of the oppressed. Those broken by the chains of tyranny were seen as less valuable than livestock. To these who were forgotten, Paul dared to write, “Nothing can separate you from the love of God.”

        Please don’t think Paul was suggesting Christianity existed only for slaves, the oppressed, or those marked by affliction. What Paul would have us consider is people are not pronounced blessed because of their wealth or achievements but rather by their ability to see beyond their current condition. If God is with us, then God works with us to overcome that which enslaves us. I suspect most of us have been slaves to something. Many are even  enslaved by the way they understand God.

        Seventeen years ago, I had the opportunity to spend time in a seminary outside of Havana. If you have the chance to visit Cuba, I would suggest you go now before it turns back into a casino. It is an island filled with paradox and wonder. The seminary was a microcosm of the island. The student body represented an interesting mixture of faith filled folks. They included Evangelicals, Roman Catholics, Protestants of various flavors, and even a few folks who practiced a Christ centered belief flavored with ancient African customs. Where does one begin when faced with such a diversity of dogma?

If you are a student of a main line denomination in the United States, the first day of class begins with the doctrine of salvation. On the second day you discuss how all the other denomination’s concept of salvation is ill-conceived. That is not where you start theology 101 if your class includes students from traditions as varied as Catholicism, Baptist and Voodoo? Taking a tip from the Old Testament, this particular seminary began with the Doctrine of Creation, confirming we are all part of God’s original plan to live in perfect harmony with God and each other. But something went horribly wrong with God’s plan, not once but twice. First human nature introduced greed, power, and arrogance into the equation of life, separating us from our wholesome relationship with God and humanity. Second, bad theology convinced many Christians that the only way back to the good graces of God was through our death at which time we are saved from this dark world of sin and corruption. The folks in Cuba identified the problem with this scenario. From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible speaks against such nonsense.  From the beginning, God has called for a return to our original creation, putting the emphasis on life before death, not vice versa.

To be more specific, our theology and especially our songs, have been kidnapped by a “when we all get to heaven” mentality. When our focus is only on what happens when we die, we fail to concentrate on the components of fear and evil which work in concert to destroy all that is good in God’s holy creation.

Paul understands this because Paul initially made the same mistake. In his earliest letters, Paul wrote, “Every day might be the day that Christ will return in all his glory. Our focus must be on preparing for that day.” But as Paul grew older, he began to fully comprehend that no one knows the mind of God. His eyes were open to the corruptness of authority which burdened the human spirit. His tone switched from God is coming, to God is with us now. Those who are enslaving you are working against the will of God. Amazingly, this revelation of Paul was placed on the back burner when the church became an institution rather than a liberating force for the freedom of the human soul.

In the last 2,000 years, how many times has Christianity found itself compromised or in league with those obsessed with power. The Holy Roman Empire was not so holy. In the Middle Ages rulers, with the blessings of the priest, flourished on the backs of the peasants. The Reformation brought reform but hardly changed the status of the oppressed. American churches were built by slaves.  All of this oppression was upheld by the promise that servitude to the master guaranteed salvation upon death.

But that is not the message of the Bible . Because of the grace of God we are called to live in a world where all things are possible. To quote N.T. Wright, “Living between the resurrection of Christ and the final coming together of all things allows us the chance to both celebrate and work towards God’s healing of this world.”

God has never left us and God has never left this world. Yet we  still opt out of living because sometimes life and those things that enslave us seem too difficult. It is easier to say, “When we get to heaven things will be perfect.” But that is not the language of God.

I know every person here has faced obstacles. I feel confident in saying while those obstacles might have caused you pain or heart ache, but at some point you decided the thorn in your side would not define who you are.

Likewise God will not be defined by human failure. God will not be defined by evil or oppression and most importantly God will not be defined by bad theology. Paul was writing to a people who wanted to check out. They were afraid and tired and had lost their reason for living. Paul would hear none of it. “Because you believe in God you share in the glory of God.  Don’t be enslaved by your suffering, embrace it, for suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character and character produces hope and hope will never disappoint us.”

Peter Steinke says, “We ‘waste’ suffering if we gloss over it, deny, avoid or neglect its message. But if we learn from our pain, it is not wasted and becomes a source of life and health.”

Martin Luther King talked often about an elderly lady in his congregation named Mother Pollard. When fear or weariness or self-doubt would sometimes overtake Dr. King, Mother Pollard would come up to him and say, “Son, you didn’t talk so strong tonight.  Remember, we are with you all the way. But even if we weren’t with you, God will be. Don’t you ever forget, when fear knocks on your door, let your faith open it, and no one will be there.”

My friends, faith can transform the whirlwind of despair into a warm breeze of hope giving us the endurance and character to remember God always stands with us. God always has. And God always will.           Amen.

Up!

Luke 24:44-53; John 17:25-26

Up!

 

        Unless you come from a liturgical tradition higher than the Presbyterian Church, I doubt you celebrate the Ascension of Our Lord. The Ascension is observed exactly 40 days after Easter which always falls on a Thursday. With the exception of Maundy Thursday, we are not big on Thursday services. The other problem is Hallmark has not put out a line of Ascension Day Cards. That keeps it from being considered a real holiday. Furthermore, Ascension and Transfiguration are among those mystical scriptures that make us a bit uneasy. The idea of Jesus floating off into the clouds seems too much like something we would encounter in a 3-D movie. This image has certainly given credence to the idea that heaven must be skyward. All I know is anytime a sports star does something he believes to be spectacular, he assumes God was watching and points up.

        Nonetheless, I find this to be an interesting scripture. When Jesus ascended, the hearts of the disciples sunk. What a rollercoaster ride they experienced. First Jesus calls them by name to a ministry they could not imagine. Then Jesus was arrested and executed. For three days they were lost, only to be even more confused by his return. The next forty days he walked among them. I imagine Jesus showed a little swagger every time he pointed to his hands or feet. Can we blame Jesus if he bragged just a little? Can’t you hear him saying, “I told you I was coming back and none of you believed. Well, what do you think of me now?”

        It is amazing how proof lifts the human spirit. While we talk about faith all the time, most of us are hesitant to jump into a new adventure. It is always better if someone else takes that leap of faith. I once took a number of young people on an excursion to a lake outside of Fort Worth. At one end of the lake was a huge cliff that towered over the water. I had been told it was safe to jump from the cliff because the water was at least 30 feet deep. But my allowing anyone in my group to jump had to be based on more than the spoken word.   I had the owner of our boat take me near the cliff. When we arrived I looked up and witnessed this Amazon of a woman preparing to jump. I marveled at her courage as she leaped from the cliff, holding her body erect as she plunged into the waters below. Imagine my surprise when the girl, barely ten, emerged from the water screaming, “Daddy, can we do it again?”

        Once the disciples experienced the risen Lord, the words of the Prophets and Psalms became perfectly clear. Faith no longer seemed necessary. They had proof. Christ was among them. He emerged from death and told them to jump on in, the water was fine. God’s truth, and God’s vision were real to the disciples because Jesus was once more in their presence. Peter once again regained his boastfulness and probably declared, “Jesus wherever you go, I am right behind you.” I wonder if Peter even heard Jesus say, “Not yet Peter. Not yet. I am only here for a moment.”

        Suddenly everything made sense to the disciples. How difficult is it to believe in the resurrection when the one you assumed dead is standing in your midst? What a glorious moment it must have been. But it was only for a moment, and then once again, Jesus was gone.

        Now imagine the disciples looking up as Jesus ascended. Imagine the disciples wondering what would happen next. Imagine their fears returning. Imagine their faith based on proof disintegrating. Imagine one of the disciples crying out, “He has left us.” Imagine the voice of God softly saying, “And what has he left you?”

        Because I complained about it so much, most of you are aware that recently I spent a week in Dante’s level of hell known as Disneyworld. The only advantage I had was being tall enough to see my desired destination while thousand of zombies surrounded me chanting, “When you wish upon a star.”  Can you imagine what my 23 month old granddaughter must have experienced? Refusing the safety of a stroller, Siddalee would attempt to brave the madness. I suspect all she could see was their knees. When her spirit was almost quenched Siddalee would holler, “Up Granddaddy, Up.” I would lift her up on my shoulders where she could observe the insanity. Once there, she delightfully sang a song liberating my ears from any zombie’s mantra.

        The disciples wanted to be lifted up out of the madness they feared would consume them. They wanted to be lifted up to join their Lord. They so feared being left behind, they didn’t realize what Jesus had left. As the clouds closed, each disciple prayed to also be lifted up, and they were, but not to the heavens, but upon the shoulders of God’s grace. It was then that the disciples heard the words, “It is your turn. You have seen the Christ; now you must tell the story. I will lift you up, so that you can sing God’s song.”

        As much as our faith is dependent on what God has done, the church finds its life in what we will do. If Jesus had stayed, everything would have centered only on him. Jesus would have told more stories, healed more folks who were sick.  Peter and Paul and the thousand of saints that followed would have remained in the shadows of the light of Christ. Why build a church if God is among us? Why live for tomorrow if it doesn’t get any better than today? Jesus knew there would be no Pentecost while he was on earth. Messiahs spark a revolution. But is it the masses that turn a revolution into a movement. Jesus said, “Sit on my shoulders so you can see the future. Then together we will walk toward God’s destiny.”

        I grow weary hearing people complain that God is not doing enough or God ought to step back into the world and straighten everything out. It is as if they are saying once Jesus disappeared into the clouds, all was lost. The truth is, from the moment Jesus left, we became the body of Christ. From the moment Jesus left, we became the hands of Christ. From the moment Jesus left, we became the shoulders of Christ, with the specific task of lifting someone else up and affirming that they are a child of God.

        How can we find the courage or the faith to do this? We have the Psalmist who sang, “The heavens are declaring the glory of God”. We have the prophets living by the words, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind and your neighbor as yourself.” We have Jesus promising, “I am the resurrection”. We have the apostle Paul guarantying, “Nothing can separate us from the love of God.”

        These affirmations are planted in our very soul. They are our reason for being. But following the Word of the Lord is not easy. Nowhere did the psalmist or the prophets or the apostles say, “Believe and everything will perfectly fall into place.” Instead they said trust in the Lord and keep singing.

        I have a favorite song that lifts me up any time my eyes stray from the prize. I suspect many of you know it.

                My life goes on in endless song,

                Above earth’s lamentations.

                I hear the real, though far off hymn,

                That hails a new creation.

                Through all the tumult and the strife,

                I hear its music ringing,

                The sound that echoes in my soul,

                How can I keep from singing?

        Anyone here who has not been blessed? Then how can we keep from singing.

        Anyone here suffered from the death of a love one and not been comforted by the presence of God? Then how can we keep from singing.

        Anyone here ever cry, “God lift me up to higher ground.” Then how can we keep from singing.

        As God has lifted us up, so God has called us to do some heavy lifting. There is someone you know that needs to know they are loved. There is someone you know who needs to be comforted. There is someone you know who has lost hope. But God’s command goes beyond the familiar. There is someone you hate who needs to be understood, someone you fear who needs to be approached, someone you have marginalized that needs to be recognized, someone you have ignored that needs to hear their name.

        Look down. See the world around you.

Look down. Witness the hurt that surrounds you.

Look down. Notice on whose shoulders you are riding.

Then look up and witness the glory the stars declare.

Look up and remember the words of the prophets.

Look up and see the face of Christ.

What you do next will come naturally.

                                                                Amen.

 

       

 

A Stranger at the Table

John 13:31-35; Acts 11:1-18

 

Acts 11 might be my favorite story in the entire Bible. While  I cannot imagine a southern breakfast without sausage or bacon,  let me assure you if the early Christian church had continued to observe the dietary laws of Judaism, Weasie’s would be serving bagels and lox with their grits.  Of course this story really has little to do with pork chops and everything to do with expanding our imaginations concerning who is welcome at God’s table.

What happens when you have lived your entire life by one particular set of traditions that have served you well, and then suddenly you are confronted by a situation that questions the framework of your beliefs? This morning’s text makes a strong case that sometimes it is necessary to throw the baby out with the bath water. A Roman centurion named Cornelius lived in the city of Caesarea. We are told that he was a devout man who feared God.  There is no mention of how he came to hear the story of Jesus, but he was convinced that Christ was his Lord and he wanted to celebrate his faith by having his whole family baptized.  Cornelius sought out Peter to confess his faith.  Peter was impressed, but explained baptism was impossible because Cornelius was not a Jew.  This may seem like such a minor detail to us. It would seem if a person believes in God then nothing should hinder the opportunity to confess his or her faith.  But Judaism required more than a confession.  There was circumcision, dietary laws, and worship rituals.  The church of Peter was merely an extension of Judaism.  All of the Kosher customs were still held as sacred.  In Peter’s mind, if Cornelius wanted to become a Christian, he must first become Jew.  But Cornelius could not see why it mattered if he was Jewish or Italian as long as he loved Christ.

Leaving Cornelius behind, Peter went to the top of a roof to have lunch.  As the expression goes he was hungry enough to eat a cow only that day steak was not on the menu. Falling from heaven were all the meats deemed unclean by the Jewish tradition.  Trust me when I tell you Peter found this smorgasbord to be absolutely disgusting.  But the word of the Lord followed the menu and Peter was commanded to sit down and eat.  The disciple complained that it was against the traditions of heaven and earth to taste the flesh of a pig.  God responded by asking Peter who had created the hog.  In other words, God was suggesting that dietary and religious laws are often laden with human rather than Godly restrictions.  So Peter ate. And as you might imagine, he was more than pleasantly surprised.  Of course the reason for this vision was not just to expand Peter’s gastronomic opportunities. It was to disassemble Peter’s geographic and theological limitations concerning God’s children. Peter revealed his revelation to the other leaders of the Church. After hearing Peter’s dream and after a lot of soul searching, the early church imagined itself existing beyond Jerusalem. This revelation eventually led to Paul and Silas being commissioned to take the Gospel and share it with anyone who had ears to hear.  This was an exciting new moment in the life of the early church.  No longer were they Jews first and Christians second.  Now they were simply children of God.  No traditions, no dietary laws, no religious mores hindered the basic message that God calls us to love one another just as Jesus loved us.

   William Willimon writes, “If Jesus Christ is Lord, then the Church has the adventurous task of expecting surprises and new implications which can not be explained on any other basis than God has shown us something we could not have seen on our own.”  Teaching an old dog new tricks is difficult. But   teaching folks set in their religious ways to consider a new path can make that old hound dog seem downright cooperative.  We like the way it has always been.  We want the same prayers, the same hymns, and the same neighbors in the pews.  It’s not that we are unwilling or reluctant to change, there is a just lot to be said for familiarity. I understand completely. 

For months I have nervously watched the odometer on my car. My precious convertible is eight years old and has traveled over 185,000 miles. That is a lot of hospital visits. Two weeks ago, I was in Staunton so I ventured by a Subaru/Honda dealer to have a conversation about my beloved Solara. I explained my needs and desires and the next thing I knew I was behind the wheel of a car which I was promised would meet all my expectation. It rode nice, gets great gas mileage, can carry my golf clubs, bike and skis, but there was a problem.  It had four doors.  I was being asked to move from my sleek, exciting roadster to a practical and affordable family car.  I should have been thrilled.  This was a car any self respecting minister would be proud to drive.  It probably comes with a free hair cut.  But sitting in the car I was not one bit happy.  Change is hard and I realized it was going to take me some time to make this transition, even though keeping my present car will eventually leave me stranded on the side of the road. 

Is it any wonder churches continue to wrestle with God’s insistence on a renewed vision?  Churches can become so comfortable being who they are they never notice the world passing them by. Then one morning they wake up and wonder what went wrong.  I hear so many stories of broken churches that trace their demise to the day they become more concerned with preserving their property than fulfilling Christ’s mission for the church. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to become so entrenched in a comfort zone that Jesus’ command “to love one another” becomes secondary.

I suspect all of you aware that the membership of many Presbyterian Churches is slowly declining.   The Methodist, Lutherans and even the Baptist are having the same problem. People blame it on any number of things but let me tell you the number one reason for our decline is   Presbyterians used to have more babies. We were essentially a homegrown denomination. These days more Presbyterians die than are baptized.  The number two reason for decline in the Presbyterian Church is our children grow up and move to different communities.  When they get to those communities they don’t necessarily join a church.  Other activities have replaced the need to be in church on Sunday morning.  Some smart folks have predicted that mainline churches are only a generation from closing shop. Logically, I could be easily persuaded there is truth in that prediction.   But my faith in an illogical God reminds me this same God always has a plan. For a thousand years the descendents of Peter never considered eating a ham sandwich or inviting someone with blue eyes to worship. But after one dream, an invitation into God’s community was extended to everyone.

We are good friendly people.  We would not turn away anyone who wanted to worship with us.  But I wonder if folks know how friendly we are?  I wonder if some folks assume that we are a little too ….. Kosher?  Maybe in this day and age Cornelius isn’t going to seek us out.  Maybe we need to be the ones knocking on Cornelius door.  Maybe we need to do more than just put out a welcome mat. 

Since I visited that Subaru/Honda dealership you won’t believe how many e-mails and phone calls I have received. Every car dealer on both sides of the mountain seems to know I need a new car.   Folks want my business.  I can take any car my heart desires for a test run.  They guarantee whatever I crave they will make it possible.  They make me feel important, wanted, yes even loved.  Is what our church promotes less important than an automobile?  Is the love we have for our savior simply a private commodity we would rather keep to ourselves? 

I believe we have a special community and we exhibit our love for Christ through our love of this valley. I believe we have a diverse community that allows our conversations to move beyond our own thoughts. I believe we have a community that does not judge but rather embraces the broken and the lost. Our welcome mat is always open and I believe when visitors come they feel the love of God within this room. But many folks in this community ride by our church every Sunday morning. Once upon a time Cornelius sought out Peter. Today it has become necessary for us to seek out Cornelius.

Let me share a little secret about why don’t folks go to church.   Reason number one – It is an hour that can be spent doing something a lot more entertaining. Reason number two – Some folks have had a bad experience in a church.  Reason number three – Folks want to become involved and often in a church we ask people to watch us do what we think is important.  When I talk to folks about why they don’t go to church, it usually has nothing to do with their belief in God. But it has everything to do with their lack of belief that the church should only function as a self-serving institution.

What goes on here at Rockfish Presbytery is exciting and it extends beyond what we do on Sunday morning. Folks that visit walk away engulfed by the Spirit of God. How do I know? They tell me this when I visit with them in their homes. People I meet in restaurants and on the street express how lucky I am to be the minister of such a loving and compassionate church. Folks know about us. Many have been in for a test drive. Perhaps some  are waiting for us to take the effort to meet them where they are.

For many weeks John Porter has taken a loaf of bread by to a first time visitor. What a wonderful ministry. Some of you have invited a friend or neighbor to come down and help with the wood ministry folks. You have included friends to help out in the school backpack programs. There are so many simple ways that you can go up to someone and say, “I love my church and I think you would too. How about joining me in one of our ministries? You might even be surprised to discover what happens on Sunday.”

To continue to grow our congregation, there are two strategies we can employ. The first is to intentionally meet folks where they are and unashamedly tell them how we express our love of God and neighbor. Then we sit back and listen to their story. Now I know that seems a little forceful and out of character with the way we Presbyterians do business. So if that makes you a bit uncomfortable, we can always select the more time honored option number two. Some of you folks will need to become pregnant.   

I vote for option number one.  Will you join me?      Amen.       

Tabitha

Acts 9:36-43

 

        Every church has saints. Ask Jim Martin or Nancy Small and they will tell you stories about folks who dedicated their lives to keep these doors open. Most saints are ordinary folks who find ways of accomplishing the extraordinary. Often saints are never noticed until they are gone. In my last church, Grady Broadwell was one of our saints. Grady probably stood 4’6” in high heels, but we will never know. I never saw Grady in high heels. Truth is I seldom saw Grady’s face. I was always trying to catch her from behind.

        Grady had a background in nursing. Once she retired from teaching at a local college, she decided the older folks at Graves Memorial were now her patients. Graves had a membership of over 450 and it seemed the majority of them were older than me. Our communion list could be demanding. It was not unusual to serve ten folks. But Grady never seemed to tire. The widows of the church, many of them younger than Grady, saw her regularly. She called it her calling. I called it a ministry of love.  One day Grady dropped by my office to tell me she and her husband were planning to move to a retirement home in Asheville. I said to her, “Grady you have to be old to go to a retirement home.” She replied, “I remember when Babe Ruth retired. Now it’s my turn.”  As she turned to leave I realized the church would be devastated. Taking care of the elderly was just one part of her ministry to our congregation. Every member wondered how we would survive the loss of Grady.

        The church at Joppa had a Grady, only she went by the name Tabitha.  She had to be an incredible woman simply because we know her name. Think for a moment. How many widows in the Bible do we know by name? Let’s see, there were Naomi and Ruth. Then there was the widow in the Elijah story, but I can’t remember her name.   There was the widow whose generosity Jesus mentioned and then there was Naomi and Ruth. Oh yeah, I have already mentioned them. There are plenty of widows in the Bible but we never learn their names because widows stayed in the shadows, trying to make it from day to day.

        Yet the writer of Luke lifts up the name of Tabitha. What do we know about her? Nothing, except when she died, the church panicked. Tabitha took care of the widows and probably everyone else. I imagined when she died a session meeting was called to figure out how the church would survive. The answer was, they could not. Instead of mourning her death, the church decided to reverse her death. They called Peter and asked if he could come and resurrect the one that was so critical to their ministry.

        Peter came, and amazingly Tabitha was resurrected. The church was both astounded and relieved. The crisis was averted and the power of God celebrated. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if whenever a saint dies or even leaves, Peter would show up and restore everything just like it had always been? But that’s not the way life works. Sometimes we have to find our own way.

        Not long after Grady and her husband packed up and headed for Asheville, a woman named Bonnie came to my office. “I can’t be Grady Broadwell, but maybe I could join you each month for communion.”  Soon more folks showed up at my door and eventually all the ministries that Grady performed were resurrected as one by one people stepped forward, and stepped up. It might have taken 7 folks to replace Grady, but the ministries continued. That’s what the church does, even in the midst of our tears.

        I was in Philadelphia this week when Tom Powell called and told me Barbara had fallen during the night.  He correctly feared she had only hours to live. We have watched Barbara courageously battle cancer for the past couple of years. It seemed with Barbara it was always one step forward and three steps back, yet each step forward was a giant leap. Barbara made it to church or the golf course with such regularity it was sometimes hard to remember how sick she was. She joked about her new weight loss program. She raved about the casseroles fixed for Tom as if they had been prepared by some chef from Paris. When I would inquire about her health she would often reply, “I’m dying, just like everyone else.” She never failed to ask about Anne, or Ralph, or Iantha or Frankie. That is what saints do. They care for others, they teach us how to live, and they show how to die.

        Anne died early Saturday morning. She battled for six courageous years with a form of cancer for which there is no cure. Living with death can taint one’s vision. Anne’s spiritual eyesight was 20/20. Beside her reading chair  are two worn books held together by Duck tape. One is her Bible. The other is A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie. It is a book of daily devotions that search deep into the inner life of the reader. The first entry– “Keep me chaste in thought. Keep me temperate and truthful in speech. Keep me faithful and diligent in my work. Keep me humble in my estimation of myself. Keep me generous in my dealings with others. Keep me loyal to every hallowed memory of the past and mindful of my eternal destiny as a child of God.”  

        The last entry – “To thy care I commend my soul and the souls of all whom I love and who love me.”

        When Barbara and Anne died, St. Peter didn’t come, but God did. We often quote, “The Lord givith, the Lord takest away, Blessed be the Lord.” What we need to remember is the Lord will give again. Barbara and Anne have left us memories, but they have also left a void. Who will step forward and joyfully laugh at death as Barbara did? Who will step forward to remind us of the beauty of the Psalms and the prayers of our saints as Anne did? Will you allow God to make you more than you ever imagined you might be?

        I truly believe,

A new song will arise from one of you;

A new energy will arise from one of you;

A new joy will arise from one of you;

A new dignity will arise from one of you;

A new prayer will arise from one of you;

How do I know this?

Because this is the way we celebrate our saints,

And this is the way we celebrate our faith.

 

To God be the glory, Amen.