Sermon for the Day of Pentecost 2018

Preached at Canadochly and Grace on 5/20/2018
Preaching text: None

This week will be an interesting one for us nerds. On Thursday, the newest film in the expanding Star Wars saga opens, the Han Solo origin story titled appropriately enough as “Solo.” Early reviews are mixed; some folks are noticeably disappointed and rumors have swirled that the production was rather haphazard. But regardless, I suspect it will be a more fun film than the last Star Wars film that opened: Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, which hit theaters back around last Christmas.

That film was bleak and yet brilliant. It subverted every expectation audiences had about how the story was going to play out. Instead of the heroes winning the day, they lose. Every scheme, every plan they attempt fails and fails miserably. The villains are triumphant in the end. The heroes are reduced to a tiny handful. All seems lost. But, Poe Dameron, one of those heroes says something rather important in one of the final scenes of the film. As the last survivors retreat, he tries to encourage them by saying “We are the spark that'll light the fire that'll burn the First Order down.” Inspired and encouraged by this, the rebels flee to fight another day and the film comes to a close.

Good science fiction is always meant to be a commentary on real life and The Last Jedi is definitely a film of its time. Because real life is not working out the way people have expected. The villains of our world appear to be triumphant. Every scheme, every plan the good people of our world attempt is failing and, in some cases, failing miserably. All seems lost. Evil appears to be winning.

In recent news, we’ve heard people in our government refer to immigrants as “animals” and "rapists." We heard of those enforcing the will of those powers tearing families apart, detaining children separately from their parents.  We hear of legal immigrants being harassed for speaking Spanish. We’ve heard of the violence in Israel as the increasingly desperate Palestinians resist further abuse and marginalization. Doesn't seem real fair for the Israeli's to come at the Palestinians with assault rifles, tanks, and mortars when the Palestinians have rocks and harsh language. The UN agreed.

Laila al-Ghandour. Eight-months old and killed by Israeli troops. What threat did she pose?

And many of us in the Church are okay with all this. We are okay with the abuse of the Palestinian people because many of us have been brainwashed by bad theology that equates the modern nation-state of Israel with the metaphorical Israel of Biblical prophecy. A theology that portrays God as a ruthless and unforgiving tyrant, eager to destroy the world or, at least, all those people who are not like us. Thing is they are more like us that many of us realize. Some 10% to 20% of Palestinians are Christians, but that doesn’t matter in the rush to trigger the rapture and bring down God’s wrath on all those people we fear.

We are okay with the abuse of immigrant families because we are afraid. Ever since pretty much forever, we have been afraid of people who are different: They are those who say it is to blame on one or both of the last two Presidents and their supporters, but it’s always been there. Rewind to the 1850s and it was the Irish. Then the Italians, the Chinese, the Poles. One hundred years ago, during the First World War, it was us in a sense. The Germans were feared and often persecuted. Now it's the Muslims and the Latinos. The names change, but the fear remains.

And then there's the news of yet another school shooting. And the controversy over guns renews again and also again, nothing will be done. Why? Ask gun-enthusiasts, the NRA, and their sort. They'll tell you why they fight any form of regulation quite openly. They're afraid. They're afraid of criminals. They're afraid of the government. It's all about fear.

And we can add into that the opioid crisis, the healthcare crisis, the renewed rise of the KKK and other hate groups, trade wars over oil, steel, and agriculture, and the spectre of REAL war with either Iran or North Korea (or both). All things that are scary in their own way.

Are you afraid? I am. I’m terrified of a vocal minority who has become so consumed with hatred that violence is becoming increasingly likely. I am terrified of tensions on an international scale, where sabers are rattling and war is looming. (Never mind the ongoing conflicts in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Syria which have been going on for years now.) I am frightened of how my already uncertain finances could become even worse. Oh, and then there’s my health and my wife’s health and the increasingly outrageous costs we incur just to stay alive.

Are you hopeful for the future? Most days I’m not. Pretty hard to be in the midst of all this. Everything seems to be going backwards. Progress is in reverse and far too many are happy about that. They want women, minorities, LGBT, and pretty much everyone not like them “put in their place.” They want us to be afraid, because they are afraid. Fear leads to irrational decisions. Fear leads to hate. Fear leads to violence. Fear is destroying us. 

And yet, in our midst, is a spark that can light a fire to burn down all this evil. Something that can bring an end to the fear. Something that can help us let go of the hate. It’s something we all have. It’s a faith and belief in the one who came, lived, died, and then defeated death on the third day. It’s the one who was sent because God loves this world and does not seek to destroy or condemn it. It’s the one we gather each Sunday to praise and pray to and hopefully listen to, because he is offering the answer to these frightful times. The answer is and always has been love. Agape love, selfless love, love of others, a love that seeks justice and fairness, a love that drives out all fear, a love that serves and sacrifices. The same love that Jesus has showed countless times to you and to me.

How do we change the world? We show and tell people they are loved. That they matter. That the people they care about matter. Mind you, we can talk about love until we are blue in the face and never do anything with it. We’re sadly quite good at that in the Church and the world knows it. Talk is cheap. Jesus’ love will never be real for people unless WE make it so. Unless we show them in very real ways that they matter to God and to us. They don’t need platitudes. They need real agape love from us.

The fire of the Holy Spirit has been given to all of us and it’s a passionate fiery power that loves the world the way God does. It’s also the fire, if we let it and use it, that will change this world for the better. It will drive out our fear and replace it with love. It is the spark that will light the fire that will bring evil down, not by destroying it, but by redeeming it.

I don’t want to hate the people I hate. I don’t want to be afraid of the people I’m afraid of. Let’s be honest. I’ve made my feelings about certain individuals and certain groups in society quite plain over the years. I do hate them and I am afraid of them. But those things aren’t right and I struggle daily between what I know is right and what my sin drives me to do. I suspect I’m not alone in that. If I were, we wouldn’t be having these problems in our world today.

Our faith teaches us that they, like us, are children of God. Our faith teaches us that God loves them, that Christ died for them, and that we are to embrace them as brothers and sisters because that’s what they are. It’s hard when we know they couldn’t care less about us. It’s hard when we know they outright hate us. It’s hard when we know they want us dead. But none of those things will change by our hating them back. None of those things will change by our fearing them. It changes when I and all of us show them God’s fiery love, a love big enough to consume the whole world and everyone in it. A love that will bring justice and equity back. A love that will set us all free from the demons of hate and fear. 

That’s the kingdom of God, my friends. A kingdom that Jesus came to spread as far and wide as possible. It’s a kingdom I want to live in, a place without fear and hate and violence and uncertainty. I believe you want to live there too. And, out there, are countless others who’d like to live in that kingdom as well. It’s up to us to make it real for them. Love them. Embrace them. Fight for them and let the fire of God’s love spread. Amen.

Sermon for the Seventh Sunday of Easter

Preached at Grace and Canadochly on May 13, 2018
Preaching texts: Acts 1:15-17, 21-26, 1 John 5:9-13, John 17:6-19

I was struggling with this sermon this week. After following this thread in the Johannine texts about love throughout this Easter season, I felt I should wrap up the whole theme this week, but today’s texts just let me down on that part. Not much here about agape love. We get instead the selection of Matthias as the 13th Disciple, a portion of 1 John which talks about truth and testimony more than love, and Jesus’ High Priestly Prayer, which is (no offense intended) a bit of a word salad that is often hard to decipher.

Part of my struggle with these texts is more personal. I was simply swamped this week with the various comings and goings of the rest of my life. Dealing with family stuff (some good, some bad), preparing for a friend’s visit in a month or so, and putting together a couple of sessions of the various tabletop games I play with my friends had my brain spinning. So it was hard to focus on what God wanted me to preach this week.

Ironically, the answer to my dilemma was right in front of me.

One of the family issues I was dealing with was trying to get everybody to everything they needed to do. All while Sarah’s car was in the shop for part of the week and my in-laws car was in the shop for part of the week. So we had to plan and strategize and figure out how we were going to do all this.

One of the games I was prepping was a Star Trek game where the goal was to get these warring factions on this one alien planet to make peace with one another. That was the puzzle the players of the game were going to have to solve and how were they going to do that. They had to plan and strategize and figure out how they were going to do it.

And my friend Greg’s visit at the end of June. He passing through on his way to meet up with his wife who’ll be doing business in Upstate NY during those weeks. And he’s doing this long road trip thing, making his way up from NC to NY while passing through these parts for a few days. What are we going to do while he’s here? What fun stuff are we going to get into. We have to plan and strategize and figure out how we are going to squeeze it al in.

Well, that is precisely what is also happening in our Scripture texts today.

As we’ve seen over the past several weeks, we have received this calling from Christ to love one another as he has loved us. A selfless serving sacrificial love, a love that transforms lives and transforms the world in which we live. We are called to spread this love, to live this love, to make the world a better place for all sorts of people because of this love. And we have to plan and strategize and figure out how we are going to do it. And that’s precisely what’s happening in these scripture stories.

You see, this is the Sunday after the Ascension. Jesus has risen from the dead and he has over these past weeks given his disciples their marching orders; their mission. And now he’s gone back up into heaven. This is the moment when the rubber hits the road for the disciples. Jesus just gave us a job to do. How are we going to do it?

Oh, we need more leadership. Let us choose another to take Judas’ place. Oh, Jesus called us into the world in his prayer. Let us go out into that world. And let us do that fearlessly, because not only did Jesus pray for our protection, but John has reminded us in his letter that we bear true testimony and have eternal life. What can stop us?

This is yet another piece of the puzzle that the modern institutional church has so often missed. Our work as Christians is not within these walls. We’re to be out there in the world. Down in the muck and mire of life. And we can do that boldly, because we know God and his blessing are with us. But we cannot do it without a strategy or a plan.

And this is usually where I (and other pastors) get ourselves in trouble. Part of our calling as your leaders is to suggest such plans, to give direction and focus. But all too often calling people to live out their duties as Christians means we run smack dab into a whole host of sacred cows that people do not want touched. We’re being too radical. We’re being too political. We’re rocking the boat too much. Yeah, that’s our job.

If I call out racism or sexism, if I suggest changes to our society that benefit the less fortunate or the outcast, if I say things like “it’s not about our comfort, but it’s about saving the world,” I run the risk of angering people. I get that. But we do live in a system that is built upon hurting and rejecting others and many of us are very comfortable in that system. Changes would make us less so and we know it, so we are often reluctant to make those changes.

But we are Christian and we have been called to love, called to spread love, called to love people different than ourselves, people on the other side of the divide of race, class, gender, orientation, politics, economics, you name it. And Jesus isn’t here physically to do those tasks for you. Nor is it my job as your pastor to live out your calling as a disciple of Jesus in your stead. But it is my job to call you to a reckoning between long held beliefs and prejudices and who Jesus calls you to be. A reckoning that I too face nearly every day of my life.

We know who Jesus wants us to be. And we know what Jesus wants us to do. And it scares the hell out of all of us. That’s why he prays what he does in the High Priestly Prayer. Protect them. They’re going to be out there in that ugly world and they’re going to be doing things that are going to unsettle and upset people. But we’re not called to run away from that. We’re called to face it head on.

Every day, we wake up with a choice. How are we going to live out our calling? Do we embrace the way of Christ or give in to the world’s comforts and temptations? To we embrace the status quo or challenge it? We are called to conquer the world with love and no war, no battle, was ever won without planning and a lot of courage. What will you do? Amen.

Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

Preached on May 6, 2018 at Canadochly and Grace
Scripture texts: Acts 10:44-48, 1 John 5:1-6, John 15:9-17

Throughout this Easter season, we’ve seen the Scripture texts building upon each other. That shouldn’t be much of a surprise from anyone, since we are steeped deeply in these weeks in the ancient Johannine tradition of Christianity (that is to say, the material in the Scriptures written by John and his disciples). So there should be a certain consistency across our lessons. And, since I imagine most of you have been paying attention, the main point of that consistency is love, specifically agape love, selfless love, the love of God and Christ for us and that same love that we are to share with others.

As I’ve said, this is core fundamental foundational Christianity. This is the stuff we’ve been taught since day one in the Church. Our first Sunday School lessons were about this. Our first baptismal instructions were about this. And, the problem is (partly, I believe, because this is so “basic”) it’s also the stuff we are often most quick to forget as we advance in life.

Evidence of that forgetting is all around us. Like most institutions, the Church, both as individual congregations and as large world spanning denominations, has spent extraordinary amounts of time, energy, and resources for no other reason than to perpetuate itself. To keep the machine going. To keep running. But to what end? Is it truly so that, as our Scriptures suggest, love may conquer the world? Probably not.

No, all too often that machine runs so that we who are a part of it may feel comfortable in life. And in that effort, it caters to our sense of nostalgia, our privileges as white middle-class Americans. It does little to challenge us. It does next to nothing to force us out of our comfort zones, our preconceptions, and our prejudices. We are often not here to grow; we are often here to pat ourselves on the back, nestle in the comfort of routine religion, and look down our noses upon those poor saps who in some way don’t measure up to our standards of greatness.

This is nothing new. This is the story of the Church from almost the very beginning, certainly from the time in which it became “mainstream” in the Roman Empire and beyond. We have launched crusades, burned witches, slaughtered unbelievers by the thousands (if not millions), enslaved those who were different, and turned a blind eye to corruption in our midst, all so the church membership could be comfortable.

Doesn’t sound like selfless agape love to me.

Some historians have argued that the worst thing to happen to the Church was the moment in ancient Rome when it became the state religion. They say everything went downhill from there and that was when the Church truly lost its way. We replaced conquest by love and mercy with conquest by the sword and never looked back. It’s hard to argue that such historians don’t have a point.

But, Pastor, we don’t do those things anymore. We’ve grown beyond all that horrible stuff. We’ve freed the slaves. We’ve supported civil rights. We’ve stopped genocides of people who are different. To which I say, Have we truly?

Slavery? What does the church say about the fact that the United States incarcerates more people per capita than any other nation on Earth? Yes, the 13th Amendment freed the slaves after the Civil War EXCEPT for one caveat. Those imprisoned for crimes can still be enslaved. Oh, and those who are imprisoned are largely A) people of color and B) held for crimes that are often laughably minor. What does the church say about that? How do we show agape love to ones such as these?

Well worth the watch if you want to know about modern slavery in America. The whole documentary is on Netflix and YouTube.

Civil rights? What does the church say about the fact that people of color are still statistically poorer and still have fewer opportunities than whites? What does it say about women who make less on average than men? And girls who are often actively discouraged from seeing higher paying careers? What does it say about the LGBT community? What does the church say about how unequal our society truly is? How do we show agape love to ones such as these?

Genocide? What does the church say about the fact that this country was closed to the Jews who tried to flee Hitler? What does it say about those Syrians and Iraqis who right now are trying to flee Assad and ISIS? Or to the Mexicans and Central Americans who are fleeing the brutality of the drug cartels? What does the church say about such things? How do we show agape love to ones such as these?

What are we doing about those things? Are we doing anything? Or once again, are we turning a blind eye to the evils of our world and of our own so that we may be comfortable?

“Love one another as I have loved you.” Jesus commands. “Everyone who loves the parent loves the child. By this we know that we love the children of God.” John writes. And who are the children of God? Those he’s created. Those that he loves. Those like the household of the Roman centurion Cornelius, who wasn’t Christian at first, but came to know God’s love thanks to Peter. That’s our Acts text today. He conquered with love. Be like Peter.

I said last week that there are thousands upon thousands of people out there who are hungering for love. This world in which we live is brutal. We know that. We’ve experienced that. That’s why the temptation to find comfort is so strong within these walls. But the love we are called to share is a selfless love. It is one that is meant to go beyond ourselves and out into that brutal world; out to all those who are not comfortable. To all those who are frightened by the forces of society that are arrayed against them. To all those beaten down by the unfairness of life. To all those less fortunate than ourselves. We cannot forget them in our quest for comfort and escape from our own fears. That’s is not what we are called to do as Christians.

No, this is our model. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. That was what Jesus did for you and for me and for everyone. He was worried about being comfortable. He was worried about creating a new world, a kingdom of God, where all people can be loved and taken care of. A kingdom of love and compassion. A kingdom created by love for love for all. That is what we are about. Jesus conquered with love. Be like Jesus. Amen.

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

Preached at Grace and Canadochly on April 26, 2018
Scripture texts: Acts 8:26-40, 1 John 4:7-21, John 15:1-8

Today’s texts seem to tie together a number of themes from my sermons of these past several weeks. In Acts, we hear the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch, a tale where, once again, someone takes the Scriptures and leads another through the story of salvation just as Jesus himself did with the disciples in the upper room. First John speaks again of agape, of selfless love, and how God’s love for us is meant to compel us into sharing that love with others. And lastly, Jesus speaks of the metaphor of a grapevine; that good vines produce good fruit and that as long as we abide in Christ’s love, we too will produce “good fruit.”

These texts are linked, not merely because they all appear on the 5th Sunday of Easter in Year whatever of the lectionary (B, I think.) They are linked because they are a perfect encapsulation of the Christian life. This is it. This is what it means to truly be Christian. We love, because God first loved us. Who do we love? All people, even those as odd or out-of-the-ordinary as a rich black Ethiopian court official of alternate sexuality. And it is through loving the ordinary and the extraordinary that we bear that fruit of God’s kingdom.

I talked last week about how “God loves you” is the first and most fundamental teaching of the Church. The second teaching flows from that. “You therefore love others.” We are taught this also from the very beginning. How many Sunday School lessons begin with some or another Bible story, but end with the exhortation to kindness, compassion, mercy, and love? God loves us, therefore we love others. Christianity 102. It’s the second thing we learn when we become Christian.

But again, like the first lesson, this one gets lost in the shuffle of life.

I have a number of non-believing friends: atheists, agnostics, and the like who are often highly critical of religion in general and Christianity in particular. And whether they are talking about historical atrocities, like the Inquisition, to today’s abuses of the Church, like the Catholic sex abuse scandal, it is hard to argue with them. Because they’re right. The Church has not borne much good fruit over its 2000 years of existence. And why is that? Because we have lost track of why we are here.

So why are we here? We know the correct answer. I’ve just told you. We are here, united together in the love that God has given us so that we can then give that love to the world, to other people, to our neighbors, to strangers, to everyone. That’s what the Church is for. That’s why we’re here, or at least, it is supposed to be.

We are not here to support the status quo of our society, a status quo that often abuses and belittles people of color, women, and those of alternative sexuality. A status quo that looks down upon the poor, the sick, and others in need. A status quo that is built on hate and greed.

We are not here to idolize the golden age of our childhoods, that time in our lives when everything made sense and we felt safe. A golden age when pews were full, money was abundant, and everything appeared to be wonderful. Those days are gone and they are never returning again.

We are not here to fantasize about worldly success, to hear God tell us how wonderful we are and here’s a million dollars, all for being such good and faithful people. That has never been how faith has worked and it never will be.

Yet, every Sunday, right now at this very moment, those things are being proclaimed from pulpits in churches all over this country. Do you notice what’s missing? No talk of Jesus, the cross, the tomb, or God’s love. We do not abide in the vine and thus we do not bear good fruit.

I told the council a brief anecdote that I’d heard earlier this week. Back in the 1920s and 30s, the church in Europe, both Protestant and Catholic, went all in on the Nazis and the fascists. And now, 70 years later, those churches are empty. They took their eyes off of Christ. They did not abide in the vine and now they have withered away. I saw a report this week that less than 20% of citizens in the UK have any religious affiliation at all. Germany, Italy, France, much the same. That is very likely to be our future as well, if we do not remember why we are here.

We love, because God first loved us.

I said last week that agape was selfless love, a love the gives with no expectation of return. The eunuch gave nothing back to Philip. It’s quite possible the two men never saw each other again after their encounter. There are thousands upon thousands of people out there who hunger for love. And they are never going to show up here on Sunday. They are never going to make one whit of difference in your life. But we are called to love them anyway. Why? Because there is nothing we can do for God. We can’t give him anything. We can’t offer him anything that he does not already have. And yet, he loves us anyway, so much so that he went to the cross for us, for you and for me.

God got nothing out of that deal except pain, anguish, and death. We got everything, life, love, eternity. And that is what we are called to do for others. Give all of ourselves for the sake of our neighbors. To love them until it hurts and then some. That’s how good fruit is made. That’s how the kingdom of God comes about in people’s lives. Christianity is not about we get, it’s about what we can give. The core of this faith is selfless love. That is what the disciples were taught by Christ all those centuries ago. It’s what Philip demonstrates in his encounter with the Ethiopian stranger. It’s what we are called to do as the Church today in these trying and frightening times. Love, because God first loved us.

Amen.