Weekly Devotional for November 23, 2015

Scripture Reading: 1 Thessalonians 5:12-22 (Appointed for November 27, 2015)

I hope all have had a blessed Thanksgiving holiday.

The perennial question asked around this time of year is “What are you thankful for?” Reflecting further on the things that I preached about this past Sunday, I can say with confidence that I am thankful this year (and most every year) for those people in my life who have taught me the faith, who have encouraged that faith, who have taught me that I matter.

A comment was made on this blog this past week about the question of the Syrian Refugees, reminding me that our purpose as Christians is not just to “welcome the stranger,” but also to spread the Good News of Jesus Christ. I could not agree more, but I would point out that there are few things that I can imagine that can spread that Gospel more potently than to offer kindness to people in desperate need. After all, that is what Christ himself did when he reached down to heal the sick and the suffering.

Those simple acts of kindness are what fuels our evangelism, far more so than all the Bible verses we might quote or theological arguments we might make. If you want to make Christ real to people, be like him, in as much as you are able.

My Thanksgiving this year was somewhat bittersweet. As many pastors do, I linger somewhat on the fringes of my previous congregations and previous communities, seeking not to interfere with my successors, but ever curious about the people for whom I cared for many years. Wednesday was a bad day for the Davis, WV community and for the congregation of St. John’s Lutheran in particular. One member (a good personal friend of mine) set himself on fire at his hunting camp and had to be helicoptered to Pittsburgh hospital’s burn unit. A long time member of the Davis community (and another good personal friend) revealed that she had uterine cancer. And one of the most beloved and loyal members of the St. John’s congregation joined the Church Triumphant. All in one day.

It is the third person that I would like to talk about and as good an example of the point I’m trying to make in this blog post as I could find. Don Gnegy was everything a pastor could want in a congregation member: loyal, intelligent, and compassionate. He will be greatly missed.

Don, some years ago, during a church renovation project.

Eleven years ago now, I was in a very rough spot. It all started on Friday. My beloved grandfather was in his last months of life and teetering as those who are dying do between life and death. Every day, there was that question. Is this it? I got the call from my mother. He’s not doing well. You probably want to come down.

I had adopted a beautiful little Finnish Spitz mix named Binksy from a couple moving overseas about a year before, but on this particular weekend, she’d taken ill. I had to board her anyway because I was leaving to see my grandfather, and where I boarded her was the local veterinary office. So they promised to look after her and see what they could do about her illness.

Binksy in her prime

I also had a doctor’s appointment. I had been suffering some severe pain in my abdomen and groin for several weeks and I needed to be checked out. Turns out, I had some rather large hernias that required pretty immediate surgery.

Anyway, I drive to Charleston, my hometown, and visit with my grandfather. He’s not doing well, but this proves a false alarm. But while I’m there, I get the call that Binksy had died.

I returned to Davis in time for services on Sunday. That morning, I did as some pastors do: I asked that my congregation minister to me. I dumped on them everything that had happened in the past three days; the need for surgery, my ailing grandfather, and the loss of my beloved pet.

After services, Don Gnegy pulled me aside. “I can’t do anything about your grandfather and the surgery, but I might be able to help you with a dog. Let me check.” Don’s daughter, Donna, breeds border collies, so I was curious as to what he had in mind.

Skip ahead a week, and Don grabs me before worship. “There’s a dog available and she’ll cost you about $150.”

I’m thinking, “$150 for a pure-bred border collie from a breeder. That’s a steal!” I agree to his terms immediately.

Skip ahead another week. Don again pulls me aside. “The dog’s on her way and she’ll be free.” But there was a complication. This was the week of my surgery. I couldn’t take a new dog, particular one as active as a border collie, while I was recovering from that.

Don waved it off. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep her until you are ready.”

The dog is my beloved Pammy-girl. She’s twelve years old now and still going strong. She’s in the care of my parents, since I was unable to take her with me to York. But I love her still and she’s been the best dog I ever had.

Pammy-girl, resting comfortably at my parent's home.

Don went out of his way to show kindness to me when I was in dire straits. He didn’t have to do that. There was nothing demanding that kindness of him except his faith and his compassion towards me. In that moment, Don showed me that I mattered. He evangelized me in a time of doubt and darkness, building me up, lifting me up out of the haze. This story is one of my favorites to tell people because what he did still means the world to me.

This is what Christianity is about. This is evangelion, “telling good news.” When Paul calls on the church in Thessalonica with his final exhortations in his letter, this is what he’s talking about. Do good to one another. You never know what even the most basic kindnesses can do for others. Amen.

Sermon for Christ the King 2015

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on November 22, 2015
Scripture texts: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14

I’ve frequently made the point that interpreting Apocalyptic texts in the Bible is quite easy. They all sum up to one simple phrase: God wins. All the crazy imagery, all the fantastical visions of beasts and monsters with horns and eyes, all of it leads to one very basic and very simple conclusion: God wins.

Understanding it is one thing. Believing it however is something else. Why would anyone believe that God is winning when the world is what they see everyday? With terrorism and war and crime and bigotry and poverty and all other sorts of evil rampant in our midst? Go figure.

Last Sunday, in our congregational meeting, we heard the ugly truth: the elephant in the room. We’ve got something like 4 years of financial reserves left. That’s a frighteningly familiar story. My home congregation in WV folded four or so years ago because of lack of money and people. In fact, I’d say upwards of 90% of all mainline congregations are facing what we’re facing. For them, the only difference is how long it will take. The church, as it exists in America, is dying. Why is that?

Because no one believes what we have to say. They might come in here for one hour and hear about how God loves them and cares for them and wants to be with them. And then they go out into the world and for the other 167 hours in the week they’re told how worthless they are and how much of a drag on society they are. They hear about how they’re a liability, that their lives have no meaning and no worth.

You want to know why young men take guns into movie theatres and shoot the place up? They’re told that if they just get an education and life will be easy street. And then they do that, thinking they’re going to get the wonderful house and the beautiful wife. When they get out, they’re handed a bill for more money than they can imagine and the jobs that are available offer minimal salary and demand 20 years experience. They’re told to work hard and they do and they get nowhere. Time and time again, they find their efforts don’t matter. Time and time again they are told they don’t matter. So, they make their mark on the world in the most violent way possible.

You want to know why suicide bombers exist? These were ordinary people once, just like you and me. And then they were bombed and attacked and brutalized by tyrants. And after that they were bombed and attacked and brutalized by their liberators. They try to run away and then they find everywhere they go says “No, you might be one of them. So you’re not welcome.” No matter what they do, they’re trapped in a nightmare. Time and again, they find their efforts don’t matter. Time and again they find their lives don’t matter. And along comes a charlatan in ISIS that tells him how they can matter and they make their mark on the world in the most violent way possible.

I get it. It scares me sometimes how much I do. I remember thinking as I watched the nightmare of Columbine flash across my TV screen years ago, “there but for the grace of God...” That very much so could have been me. The anger and the frustration of being told time and again by peers and teachers and family that my life wasn’t worth anything, that I didn’t measure up, that I didn’t matter. What stopped me from becoming a headline was being in a place like this every Sunday and learning how I do matter to the one who created all things from people like you.

That voice came through for me, but for so many others it doesn’t. Talk is cheap and it’s going to take more than talk to give hope to people who have none. It’s going to take commitment and it’s going to take risk. We have to step past our fears. We have to be loud and bold. We have to be out there, in the world, living the truths that we embrace in here.

If we believe that Christ is King and that God does win in the end, then we need to live like it everyday and in every circumstance. Our every action, our every word, as much as we are able, should tell people how much they do matter. Because they do. God did not send his son into this world for only a part of it. He came to save them all. He came because he loves all people, especially those beat down by the world’s lies and cruelty.

Perhaps one of the most interesting mental exercises we can do with ourselves is to ask why we ended up the way we did instead of something else. Why are we the person we are? Why didn’t we become a criminal or a terrorist or something other horrific thing? The answer, I suspect, for each one of us is that we had someone or someones in our lives that showed us how much we mattered to them: a parent, a friend, a teacher, a pastor, or any and all of the above.

When Jesus reaches down to heal the sick, the underlying message in that miracle is that you matter. When he eats at table with the sinners and prostitutes, the underlying message in that act is that you matter. When he hangs on the cross, the message he is shouting by his deeds is that we all matter, that everyone of us is worth dying for.

We may not be able to do precisely those things, but we certainly can show people their worth. We can show people their value. We can show people that despite all the abuse and neglect the world tries to heap upon them that they do matter. That they are loved. That they are precious. That is, ultimately, our mission as Christians. As Christ reigns on high, we are called to show the world what that means. That is our job. Amen.

Weekly Devotional for November 15, 2015

Scripture Readings: Daniel 8:15-27, Hebrews 10:32-39 (Appointed for Tuesday, November 17)

We are now 5 days out from the horrific events in Paris and the “terror” that terrorist attack was meant to engender is already in full swing. My Facebook wall has already become a massive tribute to the fear and bigotry that often lies just beneath the surface of otherwise decent and ordinary people. Calls to reject the refugees who are fleeing the tyranny of ISIS. Calls to close the mosques of American Muslims. Calls for violence against Muslims of all stripes worldwide. You name it. I’ve seen it, posted there in social media for the world to see.

This, of course, echoes the words of public figures and pundits who are stoking the fear for their own ends. In this election season, it pays to pander so pander they do.

And, in the midst of all this, I find myself reading the Apocalypse of Daniel from the Old Testament. Texts that speak about the villainy of the “kings of Medea and Persia” and others from those lands who will come after them. It could be very easy for many to see such texts and wonder if those predictions are playing out before our very eyes.

Of course, I’ve seen that claim on Facebook of late as well. It’s the End Times! Be afraid all the more!

In many ways, I am thankful that these Daniel texts are paired with the words of the book of Hebrews in the New Testament. Much like Daniel, there is talk here of persecution, suffering, imprisonment, and the loss of worldly goods, all things again that can be frightening to us. But Hebrews comes with an additional warning: “But we are not among those who shrink back and so are lost, but among those who have faith and so are saved.”

Saint Paul speaks of this elsewhere: “For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God." (Romans 8:15)

The first casualty of war is the truth and we who are caving into our fear in these times of potential and/or imminent war are very much in danger of losing the truth of the Gospel. Regardless of whatever terrifying things are happening throughout the world, we still belong to Christ Jesus. We are still the children of God. We are still those who are saved. God remains in control now and always. We are not meant to be “those who shrink back” in fear and hatred, but we are to be the beacon of truth in the midst of frightening times. We are meant, as Hebrews reminds us, to be the ones who persevere in times of trial such as these.

It is not easy to be a Christian. I’ve argued before how much harder it is to believe than not to (quoting as I do that song from Steve Taylor.) And these times are why. Fear is an easy temptation. There is much in the world that frightens. But what are our fears to the God that we serve? The one who did not spare his own son, but gave him up for all our sakes? That is who stands with us in the midst of these times and always. That is the one who has promised us life in the midst of death and darkness.

We cannot forget this truth in these troubling times. The world seeks to lash out in fear and anger, and while there is likely to be retribution against those who have perpetuated this evil, we must not allow the innocent to be caught up in this as well. As Christians, we are called to aid the downtrodden, to welcome the stranger, precisely because our fate is secured in Christ and we have nothing to fear in this world. That is who we are. That is what we believe. The world needs our voice now more than ever, a voice of sanity and compassion in the midst of madness and terror. It is our calling. It is our truth. Hold fast and be who we are meant to be.

Sermon for the 25th Sunday after Pentecost

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on November 15, 2015
Scripture text: Daniel 12:1-3, Mark 13:1-8

I originally was going to begin this sermon with a cutesy comment about how the Christmas onslaught has already begun, even here in the church, with our Apocalyptic themed Scripture readings this Sunday. It’s always struck me as a little odd that we enter into this time of remembrance regarding Christ’s first coming by talking a lot about his second.

But I’ve put most of that behind me this morning after the news that has splashed across our TV screens all weekend long. The horrific terrorist attack in Paris has made cutesy comments and jokes somewhat inappropriate and the Apocalyptic texts of this morning all the more timely and fitting to speak to our mood this morning.

Je me souviens (Yes, I know that's the motto of Quebec, but it seems fitting here).

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Because here we are again. Admittedly this time we’re not the victims as we were on 9/11 but the feeling is very similar. A heartfelt but sadly likely temporary call of unity, and then the onslaught of hatred and anger towards those who are different from us. Some of that latter part has already begun as Muslims the world over, people who have rejected repeatedly the violence of groups like ISIS and Al Qaeda, prepare to pay for the evil of those groups with their own blood. They know what’s coming.

I find a certain irony even within our own calls of unity and support towards the French people. Photographs of the American flag before le tour Eiffel on the days after 9/11 are circulating widely, reminding us of how we stood together during that crisis, but I also remember how quickly we started ordering “freedom fries” at McDonald's when the French stood against our folly in Iraq.

Picture found at Time.com

But this is what we do. This is what fear does to us. The lizard brain kicks in and we lash out at any and all enemies, real or simply perceived. And in doing so we can cause plenty of harm against innocent people who have done nothing to us, but merely have some association with our enemies that may only exist in our own minds.

But perhaps that is why it is fitting that we hear from our Scriptures these Apocalyptic texts. The visions of Daniel and the predictions from Jesus himself. On the surface, as is often the case, we find little obvious comfort in these words. Tales of earthquakes, violence, and warfare coming upon the Earth. And what is it that we see when we turn on the TV right now?

We see things as they are. We see the brokenness of our world. We see pain and anger and hatred, much of it from others, but some of it our own.

There are two answers to these times. And far too often we have chosen the quick and easy answer of fear. But fear can consume our souls and make us forget our ideals, our truths. It drives us to embrace the worst of our natures. It turns us from civilized people into barbarians in short order.

Fear is the reason racism, sexism, xenophobia, homophobia, and all sorts of other forms of hatred are becoming acceptable again in our society. We look upon those who are different as a threat. Fear is what drives us into nonsensical outrages over red cups and “happy holidays.”

Fear is blinding us to problems we could solve easily, if we hadn’t become so paranoid over those whose political views are different from ours. Fear is getting people killed, with guns being drawn at the drop of a hat. A man asking for a light gets a gun pulled on him. A guy texting in a movie theatre is shot and killed. Fear is what drives a vocal few to call for the genocide of the Muslim people, to call for the death of 1.6 billion people. If such a thing were possible, can you imagine? Hitler’s holocaust one hundred and thirty times over.

We can lose our minds because of fear. And we are very much in danger of it now.

There is a curious line in the passage from Daniel that stood out at me in the midst of these things. Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the sky. What does it mean to be wise in these times? Well, therein lies our second answer to these things. I think it is to keep perspective. To remember the truth. To hold to our ideals, our best selves, when the rest of the world seems to be going insane.

These things that have been happening have always been happening. Yes, the TV and the Internet make them more immediate, but this is nothing new. Our world is broken. And that means there has never been a time when there hasn’t been conflict and warfare and violence going on somewhere. This is nothing new. We’ve always found excuses to kill one another.

But add to them by looking around in our own neighborhoods at those who are different and see a threat. Change is a constant in our world. And yes, the demographics of our nation are changing. People of color are becoming more populous. Non-Christians are becoming more commonplace. This also is nothing new. And we’ve had these sorts of scares before. The Irish! The Chinese! The Germans! Immigrants are going to destroy us. Except they haven’t. They’re us now.

Funny how quaint this seems now.

Image courtesy of wildgeese.irish

All too often, we discover that what we fear is not what we think it is. We’ve been tricked, fooled into hating something that is not our enemy.

I often think this is the devil’s plan. The powers of evil in this world throw a whole slew of frightening things at us and then watch as we scurry around like rats in a panic. And the question before each one of us is are we going to hold fast to what we know is true? Are we going to remain steadfast to the promises of God? He who has given us life and salvation through his son. What can the world do to us when we have that? What reason have we to lose our heads with fear when that is what we truly believe?

You see that’s what Apocalyptic literature is really about. It’s what these texts are trying to tell us: the simple fact, that no matter what happens, God wins. In the midst of all times, good and bad, God is in control. As chaotic as it can be, this is still his world.

It is a popular meme that the phrase “Fear not” appears 365 times in the Scriptures, once for each day of the year.

I haven’t gone through to count them, I’ll admit, but I do know that many Biblical scholars say there is no phrase or word in all of the Scriptures more important than that one. Fear not. Fear not, I am with you. Fear not, it is I. Fear not, O highly favored one.

That to me is wisdom. I’ve said before that the heart of our faith is the conviction that God will take care of us. This he has proven time and again, in the stories of the Scriptures, in the words of Christ, and in the experiences of our own lives. He will not forsake us. Even death cannot snatch us from his hand.

That’s the truth. That’s sanity in an insane world. That’s wisdom. Amen.

Sermon for the 24th Sunday after Pentecost - Reunion Sunday at Canadochly

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on November 8, 2015
Scripture text: Mark 12:38-44

The widow’s mite. One of the more famous encounters in Jesus’ life story. Many of us know this story very well. Jesus comes to Jerusalem and he spends some of his time chillin’ outside the temple where the treasury is kept and received. He watches as the rich and the powerful give exorbitant sums into the treasury. And then along comes this widow, destitute and desperate, giving her last penny into the treasury.

Conventional wisdom about how to interpret this text has frequently hinged on a thesis-antithesis model, contrasting the greed and extravagance of the wealthy verses the humble generosity of the widow. But there is another school of thought and it hinges on the things Jesus says aloud to his disciples before he goes to the temple. “Beware the scribes! They who devour widow’s houses! They demand everyone’s attention and praise for their piety and wealth.”

This story may be less thesis and antithesis than thesis and example. “Oh, wasn’t I just telling you about what these people do to widows and here comes one now. Look at what they’ve done to her.”

Those of you visiting us today may have heard that I can, at times, say things from this pulpit that might be a bit controversial. I’m about to do that now. You know, we all know the Bible was written thousands of years ago on another continent. We are divided from the people of these stories by a huge span of time and distance and yet there is probably not a more American story in the Scriptures than this one. And that is not a compliment.

For our society too devours the homes of widows and the poor. For our society too gives praise to people of greed and false piety. We love to claim the mantle of Christianity in our society and yet the actual teachings of Jesus are as alien to us as all the crazy space creatures many of us will be watching when the new Star Wars movie opens next month.

Image from starwars.wikia.com

Scary that more folks probably know this guy's species than the real teachings of Jesus 

(He's a Wookie, FYI)

If you think I’m kidding, let me enlighten you. Tonight, over 100,000 of our “heroes,” our veterans, those who have fought in war for our freedom, will sleep on the street. Tonight, 1 in 5 children, the most helpless of our population, will go to bed hungry. Tonight, an African-American mother will sit there worrying whether her son or her husband or both will make it home through their crime-ridden impoverished neighborhood. Tonight, seniors will be deciding (still) whether to pay their rent or their medical costs. Tonight, families will be worrying about how to pay the bills when their paycheck is getting smaller by the minute.

In the wealthiest most prosperous nation this world has ever seen, everyone of those things is a travesty. And as we gear up in this election season, the word I hear from most of the candidates are not ways to help, but ways that will make things worse.

We love to talk about how we are a Christian nation and yet we fail…miserably…at the most basic test of a Christian society. We do not take care of one another. No, instead we demand that the widows and all others like her give their mite for the sake of the wealthy and the greedy, because they matter and she doesn’t.

Since all of us here are people of good character, I would imagine that we’re all asking ourselves what can be done about all this. That’s a very good question. But there’s a better one. Ask yourself what YOU can do about all this.

You see, there’s a twofold reason why things have gotten this way. One is that we’ve forgotten is that they’re will always be charlatans and predators out there looking for the vulnerable to exploit. Brian Roche on WGAL tells us about some of them every night, warning us about the latest scams. But that sort of diligence is only way we keep these people at bay and the most vulnerable of our world protected. And we have not been diligent. No, instead we have often welcomed their kind into the halls of power in government and business, where they can and have done the most damage.

The second reason is that we have forgotten what Jesus has called us to be and do. On the mountain of the Ascension, after he had lived, died on a cross, and then rose again for your sake, mine, and the whole world’s, Jesus called his disciples to do as he did. To make other disciples. To care for the sick and the needy. To be witnesses to his truth. And here again, we have fallen down on the job.

In both cases, we have often decided that the job belongs to someone else. It’s not our problem. It’s not our fight. We can’t be bothered.

Bishop Matthew Reigel of WV-WMD Synod recently posted on Facebook about this very dynamic. We hear a lot of bellyaching in our society. A lot of complaints. How awful it is that the church is dying! And yet, we can’t be bothered to come to worship each Sunday. Hmm!

How awful it is that no one respects Christmas in the right way. And yet, for most, it’s about Santa Claus and presents and we can’t be bothered to celebrate the Nativity of our Savior in a church.

How awful it is that no one respects the Sabbath day anymore. And yet, we can’t be bothered to tell our kid’s soccer coach to stuff it when he schedules all the games on Sunday.

It’s always someone else’s job to show up. Everyone else should change, but not us. We can’t be bothered. And that’s why the widow has to give out her last penny, because we can’t be bothered to do something about it.

Jesus didn’t call someone else. He called you and he called me to change the world. I often tell people that we change the world one soul at a time, but for that to work sometimes the first soul that has to change is our own.

So if we’re bothered by the fact that some of our veterans sleep under bridges, are we going to do something about it? Are we going to build them homes? Are we going to hold those in the halls of power to account for their lack of action on this problem? Are we?

If we’re bothered by children going hungry, are we going to do something about it? Are we going to pay for their food? Are we going to hold those in the halls of power to account for their lack of action on this problem? Are we going to do something about all these problems in our society? Or are we going to leave it to someone else?

That’s not what Jesus taught. That’s not what Jesus showed in his life. He was sent to us to save us. And he didn’t wait around wondering if someone else was going to get nailed to that cross. He did it and he did it for us. He did it for the whole world. For everyone. We are called to tell people that. We are called to remind the people of the world, rich, poor, or whatever stripe they are, that they matter to God. What more powerful witness can we make than to fight for them, to protect them, to care for them in the midst of a world that would devour them. We stand in the gap, doing all we can to show how important they are to our God.

You want a Christian nation? You want a Christian society? That’s how it’s done. Amen.

Weekly Devotional for November 8, 2015

Scripture text: Luke 4:16-30 (text appointed for Wednesday, November 11)

I’ve long argued that there are basically two kinds of people in the world. The first kind are those who delight in, or at least accept, the vast diversity of our world and its people. They recognize that we are all different. We believe in different things, follow different religions (or none at all), hold loyalty to different causes, have different cultures, languages, and skin color, and so forth. People of this type accept these truths and are not threatened by them. They may not agree with those who are different from them, but they can accept them for who they are.

The second type are those who are frightened by the vast diversity of our world and its people. They resent the fact that we are all different. Their encounter with someone that is different or contradictory to themselves is an existential threat. They built elaborate systems to enforce their own sense of superiority. They demand conformity from others. “Be like me or else” is at the core of their being. Their thinking requires them to destroy, silence, or dismiss anyone with whom they disagree.

It is a sad fact of life that the latter group is certainly more vocal and perhaps more common. Human beings are often irrational creatures. For all our lauded advancements in civilization and civility, the raw emotions of our lizard brains still often guide our actions. We more often attack than embrace.

When Jesus comes home to Nazareth for his “first sermon” in the synagogue, these dynamics of human behavior are all on display. Jesus reads from the prophet Isaiah about God’s liberating power, declares that he is the fulfillment of this prophecy, and the people love it. Problem is, they have failed to grasp the fact that Isaiah was speaking not merely of God liberating people like them, but of liberating everyone everywhere.

When Jesus points this out by quoting various other stories from the Old Testament, the crowd quickly turns on him. How dare God love people other than me! How dare he care for THOSE PEOPLE! Those sinners! Those foreigners! Those non-believers! The lizard brains kick in and they literally try to murder Jesus for telling the truth about the Scriptures.

Oh, those silly people in Nazareth. We’ve changed so much since then.

Well, not really. With Halloween out of the way, the tidal wave of Christmas has begun and we have already had the first volley in the infamous “War on Christmas” that our secular society is apparently determined to wage upon us. Starbucks has released a holiday themed red coffee cup that is insufficiently Christian enough for some people.

Image from Starbucks.com

What nonsense!

It is, of course, the second group that I spoke of above that are convinced this “war” is real. Because it is they who cannot accept that there are numerous holidays and celebrations around this time of year being celebrated by all sorts of different people: Jewish, Pagan, Secular, Muslim, and Christian alike. It is their sense of superiority and privilege that they see as being under attack, just as the Nazarenes saw Jesus’ reminder of God’s universal love as their privilege and superiority being under attack.

But, like it or not, God does love the whole world. And Christ came to save the whole world. The Scriptures testify to this fact numerous times, from the covenant to Abraham to the peaceable kingdom of Isaiah’s prophecy to Jesus’ own words to Nicodemus. Those expecting the life beyond to be filled only with people “like them” are going to be very disappointed.

As Christians, we are called to do as our Savior did. We are called to love all people. Now, we may not always agree with what they do or believe, but they are children of God like us, created in his image. If anything, it is more Christian to celebrate the vast diversity of this world than it is to condemn it. After all, God made it this way. God loves it this way. And we called to do likewise. Amen.

Weekly Devotional for the week of November 1, 2015

Scripture texts: None (Going off the reservation this week.)

I did not write a devotional for last week. The only excuse I can offer is that I simply got swamped. There were moments in the midst of the last few weeks where I wasn’t even sure if I was coming or going. I’m still not entirely sure if I know whether I’m coming or going.

One of the things that “swamped” me was the sudden and unexpected passing of a member of Canadochly named Suzy Mathias. Suzy was a beloved member of the congregation and I was delighted to serve even for these few short years as her pastor. She and her late husband were among the first to invite me into their home when I arrived in York county and so she retains a special place in my thoughts.

On Sunday morning, I came into my office to find a pile of mail on my desk (Nothing unusual about that.) Among the items there was a card from someone who had attended Suzy’s funeral. The note within began amicably enough, complimenting me for my kind words about Suzy during the funeral service. But then it took a less-than-delightful passive-aggressive tone with the following question.

Pastor, are you certain that you have accepted Jesus into your heart, as Suzy did when she was a teenager?

In the immortal words of one of my favorite seminary professors, Dr. Timothy Wengert, “why do ask me this question?”

We’ll start with the obvious. Clearly, the person asking this does not believe so, otherwise why ask the question at all? But what would make said person think that? Given my only contact with this person (that I know of) would be at Suzy’s funeral, it must have something in either my sermon or the traditional funeral rite of the Lutheran church that makes her question. Clearly, in this person’s mind, there is something flawed in one or both of these that makes me a less-than-authentic Christian. Something she sees as “not right.” Something that makes me a non-believer, despite my apparent delusions to the contrary.

Funny. I always thought the only thing required to be a Christian is to believe in Jesus Christ and I know I do that. So what’s really going on here?

We humans have many gods and many idols. Many things that we worship, sometimes without even realizing it. In fact, the most insidious of these idols are the ones that look most like authentic Christianity. Idols like a particular doctrine, dogma, or theological stance. Idols like the inerrancy of Scripture,  the primacy of the Papacy, the supremacy of our denomination, or the color of the church sanctuary carpet. Or, behind all these, our own self-delusions that OUR way and OUR thoughts and OUR beliefs must be right and all others wrong.

Image from this article at Patheos.com. 

Too often, we mistake our particular interpretations of the faith as the one true Church and the only way to salvation. But as Dr. Wengert (again) often reminded us in class, “we are not saved by right answer alone.”

If we are truly honest with ourselves, we have to realize that our particular doctrines, dogmas, and interpretations are nothing more than our best guess. And that’s okay, because what grants us salvation is not any of that, but the grace of God through Jesus Christ. It is his will and his prerogative to save us. There is no entrance exam for heaven. Only a God of love and mercy standing there saying “Welcome” to whomever he chooses. The right (whoever they might be) and the wrong.

So, to the person inquiring about my faith in this card, here’s my answer: It doesn’t matter if I prayed some prayer or performed some ritual to “accept” Jesus into my heart. Because I know he’s accepted me. I know he’s died for me. I know he’s risen again for me. And I know he’s promised life to me. What I think of all that really doesn’t matter. It’s what Christ did that really counts. Amen.

Sermon for All-Saints Day 2015

Preached at Canadochly Lutheran Church on November 1, 2015
Scripture texts: Isaiah 25:6-9, Revelation 21:1-6, John 11:32-44

Picture by Rubi_Rose at Deviant Art

I’m going to begin my sermon today with a confession. I really was not looking forward to this sermon today. Normally, I love preaching. I love the research, the prep, the writing, the delivery, all of it. But not this time. No, today is All-Saints Day, the day on which we remember those of our friends and family who have passed on. Today is a day when I do not want to remember. Today is a day when I would rather forget.

A wise person recently told me that “It is human nature to want to avoid feelings and experiences that make us uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable is a bit of an understatement for how I feel. This time last year, this very Sunday in fact, I was grieving the death of my friend Dan. Since then, we, as a church community have said farewell to three beloved members (Suzie, Millie, and Don). Death lurks frightening close to one more member of our community as well as one prominent member of the New Freedom church that I’ve befriended. A old friend of mine from high school recently passed away after a sudden illness. Death, it seems, is all around me, all around us. And no, I don’t want to remember that.

It’s unsettling. It’s frightening. It’s sad. It’s all these things and more. I suspect I am not alone in wrestling with these feelings. In addition to the examples we share in common, I am certain many of you have other names, other people that you’ve known and cared about, who have succumbed to death’s embrace in recent times.

But as tempting as it is to forget, we cannot nor should we. Those same uncomfortable feelings do not allow that luxury and it would be a disservice to these people and their impact on our lives to erase them from our memories even if it were possible. They were, for a time, a part of our lives. They made a difference in some way. They mattered and they matter still.

So what then are we to do on this All-Saints Day?

If we must remember, then how? The ancient traditions of the Church give us guidance in that regard. What was it that made them special? You see, that’s a question the Church has asked of its own for generation upon generation. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters have saturated the calendar with days of remembrance for saints of all stripes. Men with names like Patrick and Valentinius and Aquinas. Women like Mary, Teresa of Avilla, and others. Why are these people important? Well, they mattered and they matter still.

They mattered because they had an impact of the lives of others. They made their lives an example to follow. They cared about others. They taught the truths of the Gospel. Now we may not know all their stories. There are so many of them, in fact, that only most learned of scholars know them all. But we don’t need to, because we know other stories. The stories of the people who mattered to us.

Stories like Millie’s love of her family. Stories of Suzie little wink and how she was always concerned for others. Stories of Don’s strength and compassion, his love of music, and willingness to risk all to save others. Stories of their courage and care. Stories of their faith and how they held fast even in the darkest episodes of their lives.

At Suzie’s funeral, just one week or so ago, I asked a hypothetical question. If she was here now, what would she say to us? What would Millie say? Or Don? What would Dan or Barry or any of those others that we’ve lost say to us now?

It’s not hard to imagine. They would say to appreciate God’s gifts: the life that we have, the people that we love. Embrace the joy that we are given. They would point to the promises of God. That where Christ is, we will be also one day. That God intends to bless the whole world. That it is finished and God’s victory is assured.

The width and breadth of Scripture attests to these truths, but we have also seen people who have lived it. People whose journey in this world reflected what they believed, the truths that they trusted in. In some ways, that is a far more powerful witness to God than words written thousands of years ago. There is an old saying. That “You may be the only Bible people ever read.” How many Bibles have we read in the lives of those who mattered most to us? What a witness they have been.

Today’s Scripture readings are familiar to any of us who have attended even one funeral in a Lutheran church. They are the standard appointed texts for the funerary rite. But they speak to the truths that we have seen lived out in the example of three of our community and so many others that we’ve encountered in our lives. They tell us that Christ has won. They tell us that death has no real power over him or any of us. They tell us there will be a day when our mourning will turn to dancing and celebration.

We don’t just have to hear it. We’ve seen it. We have been given a gift in the lives of those we love. A witness, a testimony to the truths of these passages, made real in flesh and blood by people we’ve known and cared for. That is what this day is really about. It’s about all the ways our lives reflect the one who came among us to set us free from sin and death. It’s about the Bible our lives proclaim to others and the Bible we’ve read through those we’ve loved. Amen.