7-18-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

GINGER OR MARY ANN?

     Does anyone remember an old T.V. show called Gilligan’s Island?  The show only ran for three years – from 1964 until 1967 – and there was a grand total of 98 episodes made.  The show really made its biggest mark on T.V. audiences once it got into syndication.  It was a show about a group of seven people who went on a three-hour tour and ended up stranded on a desert island.  Every single episode, it seemed, focused on their valiant efforts to get off the island, only to be thwarted time and time again by Gilligan’s ineptitude. 

    An urban legend tells us that the idea for the show came from a Sunday morning sermon.  The show’s creator Sherwood Schwartz once heard a minister talking about who you’d like to be stranded on a desert island with.  The minister’s answer was Jesus, of course, but this got Sherwood Schwartz to thinking.  He thought about desert islands and the humorous situations that could arise from different people being stranded on one, and the rest is television history.

     In fact, a question referring to Gilligan’s Island has made its way into popular American culture.  There is a game that asks people to choose which of two options they prefer.  Hot dogs or hamburgers?  Chocolate or vanilla?  Fried eggs or scrambled eggs?  It’s an either/or proposition and most of us can answer the questions rather quickly.  The old Star Trek or the new Star Trek?  McDonalds or Burger King?  Clinton or Reagan?  Ginger…or Mary Ann?

     Obviously, that last question is probably aimed more at men than it is at women.  Someone told me that I need to be nonsexist in my reference to Ginger or Mary Ann.  But somehow, asking the question, “The skipper or Gilligan?” loses some of its luster.  Ginger was the sultry Marilyn Monroe look-alike, while Mary Ann was more like the girl-next-door.  Ginger or Mary Ann: which do you prefer?  In this context, it’s clearly an either/or proposition.

     It’s a game that popped into my head as I thought about the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke.  Jesus went to visit a couple of sisters named Mary and Martha.  They had a brother named Lazarus as well, but he’s not mentioned in this particular passage.  So Jesus and his disciples went to the home of Mary and Martha.  Imagine thirteen dinner guests showing up at your house unannounced.  Martha tried to play the consummate hostess.  She probably rushed around the house picking up whatever was strewn about.  Then she set about getting a huge meal together.  Martha was doing everything she could to provide for her guests.

    What was Mary doing?  Well, apparently Jesus sat down and started to teach.  Mary sat down at his feet and listened to what he was saying.  It didn’t take Martha long to notice that Mary was not helping her.  I can almost picture the scene in my mind: Martha, frantically working in the kitchen, trying to get the table set.  As she walks out into the dining room carrying a stack of plates, she slams each one down on the table and glares at Mary as she does so. 

   Finally, Martha lodged a complaint with Jesus.  She said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all of the work by myself?  Tell her then to help me!”  Jesus likely smiled, looked at Martha and said, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things.  There is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part.” 

   This is what got me to thinking about an either/or proposition.  Mary or Martha: which one would you rather be?  Or, perhaps better put, Mary or Martha: which one are you more like?  Martha was busy making preparations for her guests.  Mary was attentive to the primary guest.  Martha had chosen to DO, while Mary had chosen to BE.  Again, Martha had chosen to DO, while Mary had chosen to BE. 

     Jesus himself actually said that Mary had chosen the better part.  But think about it.  Only men think meals magically appear.  Didn’t someone have to get a meal together?  Didn’t someone have to set the table?  Didn’t someone have to straighten up?  Isn’t it perhaps true that both Mary’s role and Martha’s role were necessary? 

   If you think about it, Mary and Martha’s roles are similar to the tracks that the Eastern Church and the Western Church have taken.  In the year 1054 A.D., the church underwent what we call the Great Schism.  The Eastern Church became the Eastern Orthodox Church while the Western Church became the Roman Catholic Church.  Protestants wouldn’t come along for another 500 years.  The Church split primarily over what we call the Filioque.  Speaking of the Holy Trinity, the Eastern Church said that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father.  The Western Church said that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son.  Filioque is Latin for “and the Son.”  That’s why the East and the West split in the year 1054 A.D.  We may think of that as splitting theological hairs, but they took their theology much more seriously 1000 years ago than we do today.

     But here’s my point about how Mary and Martha’s roles are similar to the tracks that the Eastern Church and the Western Church have taken.  The Eastern Orthodox Church tends to focus on being.  They emphasize prayer and their churches are filled with icons.  The Roman Catholic Church and Protestant churches in general tend to focus on doing.  That’s why we talk incessantly about mission.  The Eastern Church, like Mary, focuses on being, while the Western Church, like Martha, focuses on doing.  Is one better than the other?  Is this an either/or proposition, or is this perhaps a both/and proposition?

     I believe this is a both/and proposition.  I believe we need to learn how to BE, but I also believe that we are called to DO.  We learn to BE through worship and through prayer, and we DO when we work to make the kingdom of God a reality in our little corner of the world.  We are called to do both and both are vitally important.

     Listen to this.  Last week I did a funeral for a woman named Helen Truran.  In June of 1951, Helen and a friend were driving in a car in Columbus, Ohio.  They came across another car at a stop sign that contained two servicemen stationed at Fort Hayes.  One of those servicemen asked Helen where she and her friend were going.  She said, “On a picnic.”  The serviceman asked, “Can we come along?”  Helen said, “Sure!”

     The serviceman who asked Helen if he and his buddy could come on that picnic was Dick Truran.  They had their picnic in June of 1951.  By September of 1951, Dick and Helen were married.  It was all because Dick asked her, “Can we come along?” and she said, “Yes.”  What if she had said, “No?”  If she had said no, I can think of five children who would never have been born, not to mention countless grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

     My point is this.  Do you see how important one little decision can ultimately be?  One seemingly harmless or simple decision can alter the entire course of our lives, not to mention the lives of countless others.  It is vitally important that we choose wisely.  So I say we need to learn to BE before we go out and DO.  Again, we need to learn to BE before we go out and DO.  In other words, we need to prayerfully discern who God is and what God wants before we try to go out and try to change the world.  Prayer necessarily precedes action.

   I recently came across a fascinating essay of sorts entitled “Lost Generation.”  It was written by a young man named Jonathan Reed.  It was written in response to a challenge by the American Association of Retired Persons to college students to imagine themselves at the ripe old age of 50.  This essay actually came in second in the contest.  I’d like to see the essay that came in first!  In any case, listen to an essay entitled “Lost Generation.”

I am part of a lost generation and I refuse to believe that I can change the world.  I realize this may be a shock but “Happiness comes from within” is a lie and money will make me happy.  So in 30 years I will tell my children they are not the most important thing in my life.  My employer will know that I have my priorities straight because work is more important than family.

 

I tell you this, once upon a time families stayed together.  But this will not be true in my era.  This is a quick-fix society.  Experts tell me 30 years from now I will be celebrating the 10^th anniversary of my divorce.  I do not concede that I will live in a country of my own making.  In the future environmental destruction will be the norm.  No longer can it be said that my peers and I care about this earth.  It will be evident that my generation is apathetic and lethargic.  It is foolish to presume that there is hope.

     Pretty depressing, wouldn’t you say?  Then the essay says, “And all of this will come true unless we choose to reverse it.”  Then when you reverse the lines of the essay, it reads like this:

There is hope.  It is foolish to presume that my generation is apathetic and lethargic.  It will be evident that my peers and I care about this earth.  No longer can it be said that environmental destruction will be the norm.  In the future, I will live in a country of my own making.  I do not concede that 30 years from now I will be celebrating the 10^th anniversary of my divorce.  Experts tell me this is a quick fix society.  But this will not be true in my era.

 

Families stayed together once upon a time.  I tell you this, family is more important than work.  I have my priorities straight because my employer will know that they are not the most important thing in my life.  So in 30 years, I will tell my children, “Money will make me happy” is a lie and “happiness comes from within.”  I realize this may be a shock but I can change the world.  And I refuse to believe that I am a part of a lost generation.

     That essay is really quite profound.  I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that it will never come true apart from worship and prayer and Bible study.  We first must BE before we attempt to DO.  For only God can provide the solutions to what ails our society.

     We were talking last Wednesday morning at the men’s breakfast at Perkins about what ails our society.  Our nation is fast approaching a debt of 14 trillion dollars.  The national debt increases at a rate of 4.15 billion dollars a day, and each individual citizen’s share of the national debt is $42,905.31.  Small towns all across America are collapsing as their industry gets shipped somewhere else.  And 69% of the Crawford Central School District is on the free or reduced lunch program.  I kept trying to say, “Where is the hope?  Where is the hope?”  Finally someone said, “The hope is going to have to come from the Presbyterian pulpit!” 

     All right, here’s the hope.  Only God has the answer to what ails our society.  Worship God in the hopes that he will not turn his back on us.  Study the Bible to come to understand what it is God wants from us.  And pray that God will somehow intervene.  Then we must do what we believe in our hearts God is leading us to do.

     Now back to the word game.  I read a story about someone who was playing that word game we talked about earlier.  You know, hamburgers or hot dogs?  McDonalds or Burger King?  The question was asked, “The Ten Commandments or the Beatitudes?”  Everyone quickly said, “The Beatitudes, of course!”  But a dedicated Catholic woman named Elizabeth refused to answer the question.  She said, “You can’t have one without the other.” 

     Elizabeth was right.  It’s not an either/or proposition, it’s a both/and proposition.  We must learn to BE and we must learn to DO.  We must turn to God first to find out who he is, who we are, and what he wants from us.  Then we must do what we believe in our hearts God is leading us to do.  So I ask you again: “Ginger or Mary Ann?”  Perhaps the best answer…is both.  Amen. 

                                 

 

6-20-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

NABOTH’S VINEYARD

     David Oriani is now a sophomore at the University of Rhode Island.  About seven years ago    – as a seventh grader in a Rhode Island public school – he began to experience harassment from numerous school bullies.  In fact, it became more than harassment.  Eventually, some of his schoolmates began to brutalize him.

    David Oriani recalls faking illnesses to avoid having to go to school at all.  He was terrified to walk the school hallways.  His grades began to slip.  School administrators tried to intervene, but seemingly to of no avail.  The harassment and the brutalization were endless.

  David’s thoughts began to darken.  He says, and I quote, “I felt, ‘What did I do to deserve this?’  I wanted revenge.  I never sat down and planned anything.  I, personally, couldn’t pick up a gun and kill someone.  It’s not who I am.  But I will tell you, I did want to hurt them.  I wanted them to feel as bad as I felt.”

   David Oriani eventually transferred to another school and – with the help of his parents and a sympathetic principal – he gradually rebuilt his self-esteem.  In an age when bullying has often had fatal consequences, David Oriani’s story is really a success story.  Oriani could stand as a poster boy for a modern movement that seeks to understand resilience among the young.  The question is asked, “What is it that allows some kids to negotiate the path to a brighter tomorrow, while others get lost – or even crash and burn?”  Again, “What is it that allows some kids to negotiate the path to a brighter tomorrow, while others get lost – or even crash and burn?”

   Keep that thought in mind as we turn to the passage I read a moment ago from the first book of Kings.  It may seem for a little while as if I’m off on a hopeless tangent, but that’s part and parcel to a preaching theory I learned from a professor named Frank Caldwell.  Dr. Caldwell  said that when you begin a sermon, no one should know where you’re going.  But by the time you finish a sermon, everyone should know where you’ve been.  Hopefully, by the end of this sermon, everyone will know where we’ve been.  

   The passage I read from the first book of Kings is frequently entitled, “Naboth’s Vineyard.”  Naboth was a simple man who had a beautiful vineyard in a place called Jezreel.  It was Naboth’s bad fortune, however, that his vineyard just happened to be located near the palace of the king.

   The king – King Ahab was his name – wanted Naboth’s vineyard for himself.  He offered to buy it or to exchange it for a nicer vineyard, but Naboth wouldn’t sell.  After all, the vineyard had been in his family for generations, and it was far more to him than just a parcel of land.

     When Naboth wouldn’t budge, basically King Ahab began to pout.  Ahab went home, laid down on his bed, turned his face away from everyone, and refused to eat.  We can almost imagine him stomping his feet and throwing a tantrum as well, can we not?  Perhaps we could say that Ahab was a bit of a spoiled brat.

     Now King Ahab’s wife was a Phoenician princess named Jezebel.  When she found out what her husband’s problem was, she said in essence, “Are you not the king of Israel?  Sit up and eat and be happy.  I’ll get Naboth’s vineyard for you.”

    And that’s exactly what she did.  She wrote letters in Ahab’s name to the leaders of Naboth’s town.  She told them to set a couple of unsavory characters near Naboth at a feast to bring charges against him and have him put to death.  And that’s exactly what the leaders of Naboth’s town did.  When Naboth was put to death, King Ahab went to take possession of Naboth’s vineyard.

     God takes a harsh stance against those who abuse their power to take advantage of the weak.  He sent the prophet Elijah to confront Ahab in the vineyard.  When Elijah showed up, Ahab said to him, “Have you found me, O my enemy?” You see, no one wants to confront the word of God – or a representative of God – when they know that they’ve done wrong.  That’s why he referred to Elijah as his enemy.  And Elijah lived up to his billing.  He promised Ahab that because of the evil he had done, God would bring evil upon him.

     Now there are actually several directions I could go with this story.  We could talk about the abuse of power of the powerful against the weak.  Not long ago I read a story about how a man wanted to purchase some property to build a new baseball stadium in Texas.  The people who owned the property wouldn’t sell.  You see, the property had been in their family for generations.

     So the rich and powerful man spoke to some friends in the local government and had the land condemned.  He was then able to purchase the land, develop it, and build his new baseball stadium.  Then the rich and powerful man left the baseball business and became governor of Texas.  Then he gave up his job as governor of Texas when he got elected President of the United States.  But, that’s not the direction I want to go.

    Another direction we could go is to blame this whole series of events on Jezebel.  Like I said, Jezebel was a Phoenician princess.  When she married King Ahab – which was likely a political alliance – she brought her Phoenician gods with her.  Now this was bad news for the nation of Israel.  They were taught to worship the one true God – the same God we worship today.  But here the king and his wife were worshipping foreign gods as well, and leading the rest of Israel to follow suit.  This we might refer to as the fruits of TOLERANCE.  We allow anyone to think and act and believe as they choose, in spite of the inherent dangers of such actions, but that’s not the direction I want to go either.

     After all, today is Fathers’ Day.  What I want to do today is express the importance of fatherhood, and point out what a poor example of fatherhood Ahab set.  Ahab set a poor example, and I think history bears me out on that.  The Bible itself tends to blame Jezebel for this incident with Naboth and his vineyard.  In fact, the very name “Jezebel” applied to a person has come to mean wanton and treacherous.  Think about it.  How many girls have you ever known named Jezebel?

   But let’s take a closer look at Jezebel.  Jezebel was not an Israelite – she was a Phoenician – and she was not raised with any allegiance toward God.  In fact, we should actually admire her religious convictions, in a way.  She had temples built in honor of her Phoenician gods, she actively pursued their worship, and she did her best to convert others to her way of thinking.   We would admire such religious conviction in a person if they were Christian!  She was far more zealous for her faith than most milquetoast Christians in the church are for their faith today.

     And as far as Naboth goes, Jezebel was acting on behalf of her husband.  She was only trying to give the king what she knew the king wanted.  She was only trying to give her husband what she knew her husband wanted.  Granted, she went to extreme measures, but she was only doing what she thought best.

   Ahab – King Ahab – is the one who should have stepped up and set things right.  Only Ahab, clearly, wasn’t strong enough to do the right thing.  We may want to say that these things happened to Ahab – certainly that’s the way the Bible wants to put it – but Ahab could have prevented it all.  The problem was that Ahab was just too weak.  Apparently, he allowed people     to walk all over him.

   And what kind of father was Ahab?  Well, two of his sons actually became king over Israel as well.  Ahaziah reigned in Israel for two years, and Jehoram was king for twelve.  Yet Scripture tells us that both did evil in the sight of the Lord.  Both led Israel away from God.  Ah, children tend to become what their parents lead them to become, do they not?

    It’s up to a father to set a good example for his children.  Of course, it’s up to a mother set a good example as well, but bear with me here.  It’s Fathers’ Day!  It’s up to a father to set a good example for his children.  For as with King Ahab’s boys, children tend to become what their parents lead them to become.

     If, for example, a father belittles his wife, what do you suppose his children will do to their wives?  If a father is too busy to spend time with his kids, how much time do you suppose his kids will spend with their own kids?  If a father sees worship as extraneous to his real way of life, how do you suppose his children will see the church when they grow up?  I could go on and on I suppose.  Instead, I want you to listen to the words of one of my favorite poems.  It’s entitled, “The Little Chap Who Follows Me.”  Listen closely to the words.

A careful man I ought to be;

A little fellow follows me.

I do not dare to go astray

For fear he’ll go the self-same way.

            I must not madly step aside,

            Where pleasure’s paths are smooth and wide,

            And join in wine’s red revelry…

            A little fellow follows me.

I cannot once escape his eyes;

Whate’er he sees me do he tries.

Like me, he says, he’s going to be;

The little chap who follows me.

            He thinks that I am good and fine,

            Believes in every word of mine;

            The base in me he must not see,

            The little chap who follows me.

I must remember as I go

Through summer’s sun and winter’s snow,

I’m building for the years to be,

A little chap who follows me.

     Now back to David Oriani.  Bullied as a 7^th grader, he managed to survive without incident.  What is it – what is it – that allows some kids to negotiate the path to a brighter tomorrow, while others get lost – or even crash and burn?

   The late Julius Segal – a pioneering psychologist in resiliency research – said it’s this: “The kids who survive are the kids who are able to locate a charismatic adult; a person with whom they can identify, and from whom they can gather strength.”  Again, the kids who survive are the kids who are able to locate a charismatic adult; a person with whom they can identify, and from whom they can gather strength.  Sometimes it’s a teacher, sometimes it’s a mother, and sometimes it’s a father.

   Thus, on this particular Fathers’ Day, I challenge the fathers to truly be fathers.  To be a father is to do more than just provide for your family.  To be a father is to set a good example for your kids.  They will become what they see in you.  But more than that, come home early from work once in a while.  Turn off the television.  Open up a Bible – read it to your kids – and talk about what it means.  Don’t just try to shape them into athletes.  Don’t just try to turn them into scholars.  Try to help them become moral, Christian human beings as well.  Because, truth be told, that may be exactly what our society needs…more than anything else in the world.  Amen.

 

6-13-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

THEOLOGICAL AMNESIA

   Katherine Dill – no relation to our own Kevin Dill – was a woman in my first church who was well into her eighties by the time I knew her.  Katherine Dill was one of the greatest teachers I ever had.  Some of you may have heard me say, “The most spiritual people I have ever known tend to be women in their eighties.”  Katherine Dill is one of the reasons why.

   Katherine had a husband named Jack who was in poor health so I went to see the two of them often.  It seemed like every time I went to see them, Jack was laying on the couch taking a nap.  When I came in the door, Jack would sit up on the couch, Katherine would sit in a chair on the side of the room, and I would sit directly across from Jack.  Jack would tell these old stories that Katherine had probably heard a hundred times before, but she was on the edge of her seat just the same.  When Jack would falter and fail to finish the story he was telling, Katherine would finish the story for him.  Like I said, she’d probably heard those stories a hundred times before, but still, she was on the edge of her seat.  And Jack never seemed to mind when Katherine finished   a story for him either.  It was almost as if the two of them had become one person.

     It was from Jack and Katherine Dill that I learned what marriage is really meant to be.   Jack and Katherine had been married for 63 years and in the course of those 63 years the two had indeed become one.  I learned that when the Bible says that the two shall become one in marriage, that doesn’t happen overnight.  It happens after many years of love, and hard work, and a word that isn’t spoken very much anymore.  That other word is sacrifice.      The two become one in marriage after many years of love and hard work and sacrifice.

     Katherine said to me on numerous occasions, “I just want you to know that I’m praying for you.”  Think about how that must have felt to me.  Imagine someone you respect and admire saying to you, “I just want you to know that I’m praying for you.”  It gave me a sense of peace and contentment, and I’m sure it contributed in large measure to any success I might have had in that church.  It happened because Katherine was praying for me.

   Of course, I’d had people say that they were praying for me before.  It used to happen a lot in seminary.  Whenever you’d get into a theological disagreement with someone in seminary and they’d be totally frustrated with you, they’d say, “I’ll pray for you!”  What they were really saying is that they’d pray for you to get God to make you agree with their way of thinking.  In that situation I wanted to respond, “No!  Don’t pray for me!  I don’t want God to make me think like you!”  Yet when Katherine Dill said to me, “I just want you to know that I’m praying for you,” it was something else entirely.

   After Jack died, I went to see Katherine as often as I could.  Occasionally the subject of eternal life would come up.  When Katherine would wonder if she was worthy of eternal life, I’d say to her, “Katherine, what are you talking about?  If anyone’s going to get into heaven, it’s you.”  To which Katherine would reply, “Oh, I don’t know.  I’m just such a sinner!”

     That was the final lesson Katherine taught me.  She taught me that the most deeply spiritual people in the world have the most pervasive sense of their own depravity.  In other words, the people who seem to us to be the closest to God are the ones who are most keenly aware of how far away from him they really are. 

     John Calvin once wrote in his epic theological treatise, Institutes of the Christian Religion, “Without knowledge of self, there is no knowledge of God.”  Thus, knowledge of God begins with knowledge of self, and knowledge of self begins with the recognition of one’s own sinfulness; with the recognition of one’s dire need of the grace of God in Christ.  In other words, we have to see ourselves for who and what we really are before we can even begin to comprehend God, let alone draw near to him.

     Truth be told, that was Simon the Pharisee’s problem in the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke.  He failed to see his own sinfulness.  He was completely unaware of his own deep need for the grace of God in Christ.  He was quick to point a finger at the sins of those around him, but he failed to see his own pressing need.

     Our passage begins by saying, “One of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him.”  Now the Pharisees were a particular sect of the Jewish faith at the time of Jesus.  They were deeply devoted to the Law of Moses.  The word “Pharisee” stems from a Hebrew word meaning, “one who is separate.”  That in itself should give you a clue as to what the Pharisees thought of themselves.  The Pharisees enjoyed great prestige and would be the first ones to tell you how exclusive they really were.

   Now as you know, Jesus frequently butted heads with the Pharisees.  Thus, one might naturally wonder who this Pharisee was who extended a dinner invitation to Jesus, and why he extended it.  Unfortunately, we have no clue as to who this Pharisee was other than the fact that his name was Simon.  And as to why he extended a dinner invitation to Jesus, we can only speculate.

      Some scholars suggest that Simon invited Jesus to dinner because he was an admirer of the young prophet and was sympathetic to his cause.  After all, not all of the Pharisees were enemies of Jesus.  Some even came to him for advice.  Yet this scenario is unlikely because Simon failed to perform some basic courtesies to Jesus that we’ll talk about momentarily.  Others suggest that Simon invited Jesus to dinner with the intention of enticing him into some word or action that might be used against him in a Jewish court of law.  This scenario, too, is unlikely because, as we see in verse 40, Simon actually calls Jesus “Teacher,” or “Rabbi.”  He must have had at least some respect for Jesus.

     Other scholars suggest that Simon was just a collector of celebrities.  You know, maybe Simon was a “name dropper.”  He liked having important people at his house.  Actually, this      is a very plausible reason for Simon’s invitation.  Perhaps Simon was a man who was only   trying to patronize Jesus.  It helps to explain the omission of the customary courtesies of the    day that Simon failed to extend to Jesus. 

  What were those customary courtesies of the day?  Two thousand years ago, when an important guest entered a house, there were three things that were always done.  First, the host would place his hand on the shoulder of the guest and kiss him on the cheek.  It was what they called “the kiss of peace.”  Second, most roads in those days were only dust tracks, and shoes in those days were leather soles held in place by straps.  Cool water was supposed to be poured on the guest’s feet to cleanse and comfort them.  And finally, either a pinch of sweet-smelling incense was burned, or a drop of rose oil was placed on the head of the guest.  These were the things that good manners dictated, yet in this case, not one of them was done. 

    As our story progresses, we see that a woman of the city came to Jesus.  Our passage indicates that this woman was a sinner, which is a nice way of saying that she was likely a prostitute.  This woman began to wash Jesus’ feet with her tears and to anoint them with oil.  There are two questions that come to mind right here.  Number one, how did the woman get into this invitation-only dinner, and number two, how did she gain access to Jesus feet when he was sitting at the table?

     The home of a wealthy Pharisee like Simon would have had a large open courtyard surrounded by a wall.  Often these courtyards had gardens and fountains, and in warm weather, meals were eaten there.  It was the custom that when a Rabbi was at a meal in such a house, all kinds of people came in and they were quite free to do so.  They came to listen to the wisdom that fell from his lips.  That explains how the woman got into the invitation-only party.

     How did she gain access to Jesus’ feet when he was sitting at the table?  In those days, people didn’t actually sit at tables like we do today.  They reclined on their sides beside the table.  They planted their left arms on a couch and folded their legs behind them.  It would have been a difficult time to be left-handed, don’t you think?  In any case, Jesus’ feet would have been sticking out behind him.  That’s how the woman gained access to Jesus’ feet.

     Clearly this woman was repentant of her behavior.  She must have wept bitterly – so much    so that she shed enough tears to wash Jesus’ feet with her hair.  Around her neck she wore, like all Jewish women at the time, a little vial of concentrated perfume.  They were called alabasters and they were very expensive.  She poured this ointment on Jesus’ feet, for it was all she had to offer.

     By now, I suspect, this woman was creating quite a scene.  Simon thought to himself, “If this man were really a prophet, he would know what kind of a woman she is.”  Jesus, fully aware of what lay in Simon’s heart, posed a question to him.  “Simon,” he said, “a certain creditor had two debtors: one who owed $50,000.00 and one who owed $5,000.00.  When they could not pay, he forgave them both.  Which of the two will love him more?”  Simon wisely replied, “The one, I suppose, to whom he forgave more.”  Jesus said to Simon, “You have judged rightly.”

     Then turning toward the woman, Jesus said to Simon, “Do you see this woman?” Likely keeping his gaze upon her, he added: “I entered your house and you gave me no water for        my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair.  You gave me      no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet.  You did not anoint       my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.  Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much.  But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

     Simon’s heart must have dropped to his feet at that.  Jesus deftly pointed out the contrast between the two of them.  Simon was conscious of no need for forgiveness and therefore felt    no love in his heart.  Simon’s impression of himself was that he was a good man in the sight      of God.  The woman was conscious of nothing but a deep-seated need for forgiveness.  Since she was so overwhelmed with love for him who could give it, she found her forgiveness.

      Perhaps nothing shuts a person off from God any more than self-sufficiency.  The ultimate irony is that the more Godly a person is, the more conscious they are of their own depravity; the more aware they are of their own sinfulness.  My friend Katherine Dill saw herself as a sinner.  When the Apostle Paul spoke of sinners, he referred to himself as the foremost of sinners.  St. Francis of Assisi once said, “There is nowhere a more wretched and more miserable sinner than I.”  And as John Calvin said, “Without knowledge of self, there is no knowledge of God.”  The denial of who and what we really are does nothing but expand the chasm that exists between us and God.  It can render us loveless and it can leave us unforgiven.  Such are the fruits of the self-sufficient life.

     It seems as though Simon the Pharisee had a bad case of theological amnesia.  Sometimes   we get a bad case of theological amnesia as well.  What is theological amnesia?  Theological amnesia has to do with forgetting what it really means to be a Christian.  Christians are sinners   in desperate need of the grace of God in Christ.  Theological amnesia stems from a lack of familiarity with Scripture.  We need to learn to open to our Bibles again.  We need to read    them and recognize ourselves in its pages.  For apart from Scripture, we have the capacity to rationalize our way around anything.  People can literally justify their behavior in everything from little white lies to adultery. 

     Ladies and gentlemen, we need to learn to recognize ourselves for who and for what we are – not in accordance with the world’s standards – but in the eyes of God.  We may not like what we see at first, but the grace of God perpetually gives us the chance to begin anew.  May we learn to see ourselves for who and for what we really are.  For that, my friends, is where forgiveness can be found, and our journey toward God begins.  Amen. 

 

6-6-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

SACRED COMMUNITY

   Last Friday night I saw an intriguing documentary entitled, “The Smartest Men in the Room.”  It was all about the rise and fall of Enron.  Now I’m not going to go into all of the gory details, but I was absolutely appalled at the things Ken Lay, Jeff Skilling and friends did.  At one point one of them actually said, “The Lord helps those who help themselves.”  Of course, you know that phrase is not in the Bible, don’t you?  In any case, that got me to thinking theologically.  I thought, “Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?”  Again, does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?  Keep that thought in mind as we move forward.     

    Have you seen the young men dressed in white shirts and ties going door-to-door in our community of late?  They represent what is now known as The Church of Jesus Christ of     Latter Day Saints, perhaps better known to us as the Mormon Church.  Their mission, in a nutshell, is to convert anyone they can to the Mormon faith.

     Now typically, they do their best to avoid going to the homes of the ministers in town.  Yet recently, two of these young men actually did come to my house.  Unfortunately, I was not home at the time, so my wife answered the door.  As they tried to strike up a conversation, she quickly told them that her husband was the minister at the First Presbyterian Church.  They duly noted her statement, then tried to give her some of their literature just the same.  My wife politely refused, then told them that Presbyterians are Christians too and that she was really quite happy with her faith.  As the young men started to leave, one of them suddenly stopped and asked,   “Do you know any Catholics?” 

     I’m not exactly sure what they meant by that statement, but I have a pretty good idea.  In my younger days, I was actually quite critical of Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses going door-to-door trying to recruit people to their way of thinking – what we might call proselytizing.  Then I studied a passage from the ninth chapter of Luke where the disciples caught someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name.  They tried to stop him because he was not one of them.  Jesus said to them, “Do not stop him; for he who is not against us is for us.”  Thus, unless we can prove that Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses are actually against us, we have to assume that they are for us.  That proved to be a bit of an eye-opener for me.  I am no longer as hard on them as I once was.

   Say what you will about their process, but you’ve got to admire their dedication.  I mean, how many of us would be willing to go door-to-door in an effort to expand the Presbyterian Church?  They are committed to their cause.  And if you were to ask them, “Does God exist to serve us,   or do we exist to serve God?” their answer might be better than the typical mainline Christian.

   Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?  Perhaps we will find an answer to that question in the passage we read from the gospel according to Luke.  Jesus and his disciples had gone to a town called Nain.  There they met a procession that was carrying a dead man out of town.  He was the only son of a widow, and she was devastated, as you might expect.  After all, no parent wants to outlive their children.  When Jesus saw the woman, he had compassion for her.  Then he stopped the procession and raised the young man from the dead. 

     At first glance, it might appear as if this woman had been served by God, not to mention her son.  Thus, when we ask the question after reading this passage, “Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?” we might be inclined to answer, “God exists to serve us.”  But when   we look at this passage contextually, we see that it’s really the other way around.  You see, this event occurred very early in Jesus’ public ministry.  He had recently called twelve disciples to follow him.  He had just preached what Luke calls “The Sermon on the Plain.”  And now he has raised a young man from the dead.  As our passage puts it, after this event occurred, “Fear seized all of them; and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has risen among us,’ and ‘God has looked favorably upon his people!’”  The point of this passage is God’s glorification.  God does not exist to serve us, rather, we exist to serve God.  There may be some clear benefits to serving God, as we see in this passage, but first and foremost, we exist to serve God.

     I am not at all convinced that our culture sees things that way.  Our culture is more inclined to look at life the way Winnie the Pooh looks at life.  Author Rodney Clapp points that out in a book entitled, Border Crossings.  One day Winnie the Pooh was sitting on a log when he heard   a buzzing noise.  He thought to himself, “If there’s a buzzing noise, somebody’s making a buzzing noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing noise that I know of is because you’re a bee.  And the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey.  And the only reason for making honey is so I can eat it!”  Of this, Rodney Clapp writes:

Now, even though this philosopher carries the strange title of Winnie the Pooh, and    even though his work is mostly appreciated (only) by children, this bit of reflection deserves our serious attention.  After all, it resembles the way the American Church is more and more thinking about God and discipleship. 

 

This incident shows Pooh to be a pragmatic individualist.  He cannot imagine bees possessing an existence and purpose apart from his own use and interest.  Winnie the Pooh is the quintessential consumer, entirely practical and entirely self-centered.  As Pooh himself puts it, “The only reason for being a bee is to make honey, and the only reason for making honey is so I can eat it.”

 

Thus reasoning, Winnie the Pooh has a range of other possibilities blocked from his vision.  He cannot see, for instance, the wider ecological purpose of bees: how they weave into a fabric of flora and fauna not only by providing honey, but also by such crafts as pollinating flowers.  Another thing Pooh cannot see is a theological purpose    for bees: that in the wonder of their existence, they speak and spell the glory of a Creator God.

    I ask you again, “Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?”  Winnie the Pooh clearly sees God existing to serve us.  And perhaps more often than we’d care to admit, we see God in the very same way.  We turn to God urgently and often when we want something from him.  We turn to God seldom to thank him for his provision.  As Lyle Schaller, the guru on church growth and leadership in the 1990s once said, “It used to be that people joined the church and said: How can I help this church meet its needs?  Today people are more likely to join the church and say: How can this church help meet my needs?”  The world has made us into consumers.  The mantra, “Have it your way,” has come to be the way we expect our hamburgers to    be prepared at Burger King, as well as the way we expect all other businesses and institutions    to treat us…including the church.  The world has made us into consumers, and its effects are nothing short of devastating. 

   Along that line of thinking, I recently came across an interesting article entitled, “Visions of the Sacred Community.”  It was actually written by four Jewish men: Isa Aron, Steven Cohen, Lawrence Hoffman, and Ari Kelman.  While the bulk of their research was done on synagogues, their findings seem to be quite applicable to the church as well.  They write:

Congregational leaders who embark upon change efforts develop contrasting images of the qualities they seek in the congregation and of the characteristics they hope to shed, transcend, or avoid.  They aspire to become what we call visionary congregations: those that most effectively develop, nurture and apply powerful, widely-shared and widely understood visions of the sacred community.  In contrast, they distinguish their communities from what we call functional congregations, those that may excel at performing discrete functions that satisfy their consumer-members, but tend to fall short of genuinely achieving an integrated sense of sacred community.

   The goal here is sacred community.  Community is one of the things our Church Revitalization Task Force has tried to emphasize in recent weeks.  Sacred community is found in what they call visionary congregations, but seems to be lacking in what they call functional congregations.  Thus, obviously, we want to be a visionary congregation.  Yet in order to do so there are certain pratfalls that need to be avoided, and there are certain characteristics that need to be developed. 

     Functional congregations – those that fall short of sacred community – tend to have the following six characteristics in common.  The first characteristic is consumerism.  In other words, we pay a certain amount to the church when we make a pledge, and we expect a certain level of service in return.  That’s what we call “consumerism.”  The second characteristic is segmentation.  In other words, programs tend to stand on their own with very little integration into the life of the church.  It’s a lot like the silos you might see on a farm.  There is no overarching sense of connection or purpose.     

     The third characteristic is passivity.  In other words, the ministry of the church is done   almost exclusively by paid professionals.  Worshippers sit passively in their pews, parents     drop off their kids for religious education, and church boards deal with minutia.  The fourth characteristic is meaninglessness.  People feel like they’re just going through the motions at church without a genuine sense that they’re making a difference. 

     The fifth characteristic is resistance to change.  You know the seven last words of the church, don’t you?  They are: We’ve never done it that way before!  The church that says that is resistant to change.  And last but not least, the sixth characteristic of a functional church is nonreflective leadership.  Leaders of the church are more concerned with programs and institutional arrangements than they are with purpose or with vision.    

   There you have it, the six characteristics of a functional congregation.  A functional congregation will often be lacking in sacred community.  The goal is to become a visionary congregation.  A visionary congregation is much more likely to have sacred community.  Visionary congregations, too, seem to have six characteristics in common. 

     The first characteristic is sacred purpose.  A pervasive and shared vision infuses all aspects  of the church.  The second characteristic is a holistic ethos.  The parts are related to each other such that the sum of the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.  Scripture, service and acts    of loving kindness are intertwined throughout the church’s life.    

   The third characteristic is a participatory culture.  People do more than sit in pews on Sunday mornings and avoid church commitments all week long.  They are actively involved in the work of creating sacred community.  The fourth characteristic is meaningful engagement.  Meaningful engagement is achieved through repeated inspirational experiences that infuse people’s lives with meaning.  That comes through worship and personal involvement in the life of the church.

    The fifth characteristic is an innovative disposition.  We have to be willing to try new things, and we have to accept the fact that some of the things we try will fail.  People who sit back and say, “I told you so,” help no one.  The sixth and final characteristic of a visionary congregation  is reflective leadership.  This requires a commitment to the overarching purpose of the church, attention to relationships, the mastery of both the big picture and the details, and a sincere and prayerful approach to change. 

   If the goal of our church is truly sacred community, then we need to strive to become a visionary congregation.  Ladies and gentlemen, we are currently taking all the right steps.  These are exactly the kinds of things the Church Revitalization Task Force has been considering, and these are exactly the kinds of things we’ve been discussing at our congregational luncheons.  I suspect you’re going to be hearing more about these kinds of things in the days and weeks that lie ahead.

     For now, however, let’s return to our initial question: “Does God exist to serve us, or do we exist to serve God?”  If we believe God exists to serve us, then we have bought completely into the consumer culture around us.  Yet if, instead, we believe that we exist to serve God, there is   still a flicker of hope for our future.  For a people that believes it exists to serve God might just be on the way to building sacred community.  Amen.  

        

 

5-23-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

KNEE HIGH BY THE FOURTH OF JULY

    Once upon a time, a little girl was sitting at the kitchen table watching her mother do dishes.  She noticed that her mother had several long strands of white hair that really stood out on her brunette head.  Naturally, the little girl felt compelled to point that out.  “Mommy,” she asked, “why are some of your hairs turning white?”

     Her mother replied, “Every time a mother’s little girl does something bad or makes her cry, one of her hairs turns white.”  I’m not sure that’s a good thing to say to a child, but that’s what this mother said.  The little girl thought about that for a moment and then replied, “Mommy, is that why all of grandma’s hairs are white?”  That, my friends, is what we euphemistically refer to as “turning the tables.”  One little girl clearly turned the tables on her mother.

     In the passage we read from Acts, I suspect a lot of the Jews in Jerusalem felt as if the tables had been turned on them, as well.  As our passage notes, it was the day of Pentecost.  Perhaps we Christians think of Pentecost as a Christian holiday, but it was a Jewish holiday first.  It was one of three great festivals which every male Jew living within twenty miles of Jerusalem was expected to attend.  The feast of Pentecost was significant to the Jews.  It commemorated Moses’ reception of the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai.  It had an agricultural significance as well.  An offering was given to God on Pentecost in thanksgiving for the harvest.  They had done the work of cultivation, but they truly believed that it was God who provided the growth.  The point is that Jerusalem would have been full to overflowing as they celebrated the Jewish feast of Pentecost.

     Why would some of the Jews have felt as if the tables had been turned on them?  Some seven weeks before, the leaders of the Jewish faith had seen to it that a rabble-rouser named Jesus was crucified.  They had hoped that would be the end of Jesus and his message, but apparently it wasn’t.  His disciples were still in Jerusalem.  As they were gathered together in one place, suddenly a sound came from heaven like the rush of a mighty wind.  There appeared to them tongues as of fire that came and rested upon every one of them.  They were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.  Apparently the Jesus movement was still alive and well, and now it would be even more difficult to contain.  Like I said, I suspect there were some Jews in Jerusalem that day who felt as if the tables had been turned on them.           

   In the Christian Church we call this event the Day of Pentecost.  To us it signifies the disciples’ reception of the Holy Spirit.  What really happened on that day?  Luke, the author of the book of Acts – the same Luke who wrote the gospel according to Luke – tells us that when the tongues of fire rested upon the disciples, they began to speak in foreign languages.  Remember, there were literally thousands of people gathered in Jerusalem for the feast of Pentecost.  They would have come from many lands and they would have spoken many languages.  The disciples managed to speak in the native tongues of all who were gathered there. We call this phenomenon glossolalia, which means literally, “speaking in marvelous, heavenly languages.”

     That’s the way I’ve always interpreted the glossolalia of Pentecost.  The disciples spoke in the native tongues of all who were gathered in Jerusalem for the feast.  In fact, that’s what Luke literally says.  In verse 4 he writes, “And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.”  Luke clearly tells us that speaking in tongues has to do with speaking a language that everyone can understand.

     Yet William Barclay, a biblical commentator for whom I have the utmost respect, takes issue with that interpretation.  He notes that Luke is really writing about an event at which he was not in attendance.  He tells the story as if the disciples suddenly acquired the gift of speaking in foreign languages…as if the gift of the Spirit was like a crash-course in Rosetta Stone.  Yet there was in the early Church a phenomenon that’s recorded on numerous occasions, most vividly in the 14^th chapter of the first book of Corinthians.  What would happen is that someone – in an ecstatic trance – would begin to pour out a flood of unintelligible sounds in no known language.  This speech was believed to be directly inspired by the Holy Spirit of God, and was a gift that was greatly coveted.  To speak in tongues meant that you had the Spirit!  Perhaps glossolalia is not so easily explained away.  William Barclay writes:

It seems most likely that Luke, a Gentile, had confused speaking in tongues with speaking in foreign languages.  What happened was that for the first time in their lives this motley mob was hearing the word of God in a way that struck straight home to their hearts and (that) they could understand.  The power of the Spirit was such that it had given these simple disciples a message that could reach every heart.

   When all is said and done, I really think that’s the point.  Whether the disciples spoke in foreign languages or whether they uttered the unintelligible sounds of heaven is inconsequential.  What matters most is that the people gathered in Jerusalem that day heard the word of God in a way that went straight to their hearts.  The disciples spoke a Spirit-filled message that everyone understood.

   Frankly, I think that’s the goal of preaching as well.  The goal of the preached word is a message that everyone understands.  The goal of the preached word is to speak in a way that goes straight to the heart of the hearer.  Yet how can that be done?  How can the preached word go straight to the heart of the hearer?   

     It’s a two-fold process, really.  Theologians tell us that the preached word is the word of God.  It’s not the preacher’s words that are the word of God rather, it’s the Holy Spirit working through the words of the preacher and in the minds of the hearers that make it the word of God.  Thus, the preacher has a grave responsibility in preaching.  He or she must construct a sermon through careful exegesis and through diligent prayer.  Yet the hearer has a grave responsibility as well.    I think Jesus describes the responsibility of the hearer quite well in a parable he told in the gospel according to Matthew.

     Jesus said, “A sower went out to sow.  As he sowed some seeds fell along the path and the birds came and devoured them.  Other seeds fell on rocky ground where they had not much soil, and immediately they sprang up since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched; and since they had no root they withered away.  Other seeds fell upon thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them.  Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.”

   When Jesus told this parable, his disciples failed to understand.  So Jesus later explained it to them.  He said, “When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in his heart; this is what was sown along the path.  As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself…and when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately he falls away.  As for what was sown among thorns, this is he who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the delight of riches choke the word and it proves unfruitful.  As for what was sown on good soil, this is he who hears the word and understands it.  He indeed bears fruit and yields in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, and in another thirty.”

   The message here is clear.  For the word of God to pierce our hearts, we must somehow prove to be good soil.  And that takes a little effort on our parts.  Here’s one way to start.  Begin and end every day with prayer.  Thank God for the simple beating of your heart in the morning and thank God for the gift of the day at night.  Remember, prayer isn’t meant to change God.  Prayer is meant to change us.  Daily prayer just might change us, and it will help to make us good soil.  And do more with your Bible than set it on the coffee table for when the minister comes by for a visit.  Open it up and read it.  Start with the gospel of Matthew and read at least a chapter a day.  As we become more God-centered, the word of God will come to have new meaning for us.  Like I said, the hearer has some responsibility in the preaching event as well.  If we come to worship unprepared, the preached word will never reach our hearts.

   I think of an old farming analogy.  Farmers in the Midwest, when speaking of their corn crop, always say, “knee high by the fourth of July.”  If corn is to be “knee high by the fourth of July,” the field must be plowed ahead of time, the seed must be planted ahead of time, and the crops must be fertilized ahead of time.  God will provide the requisite sunshine and rain but the farmer clearly has some responsibility in this as well.  Encountering the word of God is really quite similar.  God will provide the seed, but we still have to cultivate the soil in which that seed is planted.  We must first prepare ourselves to receive the word of God.  Amen.  

5-16-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

YOUR FAITH HAS MADE YOU WELL

     One of the things a lot of people in the church these days claim to be a primary need or desire for them is spiritual growth.  Of course, there is perhaps no greater way to enhance spiritual growth than by being a part of a small group Bible study. After all, faith was never meant to be lived in isolation.  Faith has always been intended to be lived in community.  And, truth be told, there’s really no such thing as the term that’s become so popular today: “spiritual but not religious.”  I’ll delve into that another time.

     In this particular church we have what is called the ChristCare small group ministry.  If you are truly interested in spiritual growth, you would be wise to seek to be a part of a ChristCare small group.  It does require the setting aside of a couple of nights a month, but hey…anything really worth having takes a little effort on our part, wouldn’t you say?  That’s my ChristCare commercial for the day. 

     My wife and I are part of a ChristCare small group.  Our small group met just last Tuesday night.  During the course of our evening’s conversation, one of our small group leaders – a retired teacher – said that when he was in the classroom, he always allowed for a moment of silence amongst the students before he gave a test.  He was asked if he led the class in prayer.  He said that he didn’t, but this moment of silence gave the students time to pray if they wanted to pray.  I had to laugh and repeat an old adage I heard many years ago.  I said, “Ah, as long as there are math tests, there will be prayer in school!”

     As long as there are math tests, there will be prayer in school.  What does that mean?  That means that math is hard and we are wont to turn to a higher source when we face a difficult task.  I can remember literally praying in seminary on more than one occasion, “Lord, if you really want me to be a minister, then you’re going to have to help me pass this Greek test!”  We are wont to turn to a higher source when we face a difficult task.  Tests are one thing.  Health concerns are another.  Have you ever faced a situation in your life where you or a loved one was diagnosed with cancer, or heart disease, or Alzheimer’s, or Parkinson’s?  You feel absolutely helpless in such a situation.  Why, it’s almost as if you’ve walked off a cliff and you’re waiting to fall, or to somehow be lifted up.  We turn to God when we face the most dire circumstances in our lives, because – truth be told – we have nowhere else to turn.

     Such was the case with Jairus in the passage we read from the gospel according to Mark.     He was facing dire circumstances and he felt he had nowhere else to turn.  Jairus was a leader    in the synagogue.  That meant that he was a rich and powerful man and that he held a position   of great authority.  Back in those days people attributed great personal wealth to the grace of God instead of to their own dogged determination, but that’s another sermon.  Jairus had likely heard rumors of the power Jesus had to heal, but going to see Jesus was risky business for him.  The leaders of the Jewish faith were none too keen on this “Jesus” who constantly seemed to be upsetting the apple cart…who constantly seemed to be upsetting their apple cart.

   Yet Jairus had deep need.  You see, Jairus had a little girl who was very sick.  She was nearly at the point of death.  Jairus loved his little girl.  There is a special bond between fathers and daughters.  Fathers love their sons, but they somehow see their sons as extensions of themselves.  Fathers don’t see their little girls that way.  Fathers see their little girls as precious and delicate flowers – as something they need to hold and protect and never let go.  Ask any father who’s had to walk his little girl up the aisle at her wedding.  We never want to let them go!  There is a special bond between fathers and daughters.  Jairus’ daughter was sick and Jairus was willing    to move heaven and earth to make her well.  Thus, Jairus went to Jesus despite any grumbling he might hear from his peers.

     Jairus said to Jesus, “My little girl is at the point of death.  Come and lay your hands on her   so that she might be made well and live.”  Now we don’t know why she was sick or what dreaded disease she may have had.  All we know is that Jairus was desperate and that he believed Jesus could make her well.  Jesus was obviously moved by Jairus’ faith – and by his love for his daughter – so he agreed to go and see the girl.

     As they made their way to Jairus’ house, a large crowd followed them and was pressing upon them from every side.  That’s where our story takes a rather peculiar turn.  As it says in verse 25, “Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years.  She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; yet she was no better, but rather grew worse.”  The focus in the story has shifted from Jairus and his daughter to a woman with a medical problem. 

   The woman in the story likely suffered from a condition that was fairly common in those days, but which was very hard to heal.  The Jewish Talmud itself gave no fewer than eleven cures for this malady.  Some of them were tonics or astringents.  Some of them were sheer superstitions, like carrying the ashes of an ostrich egg in a linen rag in the summer and a cotton rag in the winter, or carrying a barley corn which had been found in the dung of a white female donkey.  Can you imagine?  No doubt this poor woman had tried all the remedies and superstitions and had found no relief.  The trouble was that this condition not only affected her health, it also rendered her what they called “ritually unclean.”  It would have shut her off from the worship   of God and it would have ostracized her from her friends.  This was a woman who was nothing   short of desperate.  Thus, she hatched a plan.

     The woman reasoned that if she could make her way through the crowd and just touch the hem of Jesus’ robe, then she would be made well.  It was a desperate act by a desperate woman, but it was the only hope she had.  She saw Jesus making his way through the crowded city street.  She likely wedged her way between many others and in one desperate lunge, managed to touch the fringe of his robe.  And immediately upon touching that robe, she knew she had been healed.

     But then something happened that she hadn’t expected.  Jesus suddenly stopped and said, “Who touched me?”  His disciples looked at him incredulously.  “What are you talking about?” they said.  “Look at the crowd.  They’re pressing in from every side.  How can you say, ‘Who touched me?’”  But Jesus knew what had happened.  The woman then approached him in trembling and in fear.  She fell at his feet and confessed what she had done.  Then Jesus said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well.  Go in peace and be healed of your disease.”  In other words, it wasn’t Jesus’ magic robe that healed her of her disease.  It was her faith in the Son of God that had really done the trick.  It was God who had healed her, not some tactic gleaned from a book or some far-fetched superstition.

     The message here is clear.  When all else fails, turn to God.  That’s what this woman did and she found her healing.  That’s what Jairus did, and we later discover that Jesus actually raised his daughter from the dead.  And that’s what we do when we come face to face with a math test or even some dread disease.  When all else fails, turn to God.  Keep that though in mind as we move forward.

     I’ve been reading an intriguing book of late entitled Vital Signs: The Promise of Mainstream Protestantism.  It was written by Milton Coalter, John Mulder and Louis Weeks.  I actually know those guys.  Milton Coalter was the librarian at the Louisville Seminary when I was there.  John Mulder was the President and Lou Weeks was the Dean of Students.  The book, however, is a little depressing.  It speaks at great length about the decline of the mainline church: denominations like Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist and Episcopalian to name a few.  The authors talk about how family worship was once a priority in America, but is so no longer.  They talk about how being a Christian was once a cultural expectation, but is so no longer.  Coalter, Mulder and Weeks put it this way:

For adults, church attendance and membership are increasingly a matter of choice, rather than an expected or encouraged pattern of behavior.  The church is one option among many for support or for the use of one’s time.  Contemporary American culture provides little encouragement to make the church a priority. 

     I suspect that comes as little surprise to those who raised their children in the church and now see their adult children choosing other options on Sunday mornings.  It breaks their hearts to see their grown children opt not to raise their own children in the church.  That’s why we see grandparents bringing grandchildren to church more and more every day.  That’s why we see membership and worship declines in the church more and more every day.  Like I said earlier, people refer to themselves as spiritual but not religious.  Of course, there is no such thing, but that seems to be beside the point.  Ah, the church is but one option among many for support or for the use of one’s time.  Contemporary American culture provides little encouragement to make the church a priority.  I told you the book was depressing, didn’t I?

     Yet the book’s title is Vital Signs: The Promise of Mainstream Protestantism.  Well if that’s the title, then there have to be some vital signs of hope in the church, don’t you think?  They do list a number of vital signs, but for the sake of time I’m only going to mention a few.  One of the vital signs is that the situation in today’s society provides an opportunity for an “awakening.”  An “awakening” is a time of religious renewal and revival.  Perhaps the time is ripe for a new Great Awakening.  The theory is that eventually people will say, “Enough is enough.” 

     Another vital sign is what they call the contribution of racial-ethnic minorities.  As Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “America is never so segregated as it is at 11:00 on Sunday mornings.”  That’s the truth.  Maybe it’s time for that to change.  Another vital sign is a renewed dependence upon the word of God in Scripture.  Christians have always been known as “the people of the book.”  Maybe it’s time we became that again.  Coalter, Mulder and Weeks conclude, “In the midst of these changes, we are convinced that the Holy Spirit is creating something new in American mainstream Protestantism. A central task of the church at this time is to listen and respond to the leading of the Spirit, rather than becoming paralyzed and passive.” 

    Ladies and gentlemen, that is exactly what we are trying to do at the First Presbyterian Church of Meadville.  We recently formed a Church Revitalization Task Force aimed at transforming the decline in our own church.   At a recent congregational luncheon, we talked about our church being like a half a cup of water.  The question is, “Is the cup half empty, or is the cup half full?”  You see, if the cup is half full, we are grateful to God for all that we have.  If the cup is half empty, we will forever feel as if we have somehow been shortchanged.  We will constantly seek to have or to get more…and we’ll do nothing but complain until we get it.  We concluded that our cup was half full, and we listed many of the strengths of our congregation.  Among them were the following:

1.      Worship,

2.      Music,

3.      Staff,

4.      Stephen Ministry,

5.      ChristCare small groups,

6.      Congregational luncheons,               

7.      Youth programs, and

8.      Relationships.

     There were more items listed, but you get the gist of it.  Our cup is indeed half full.  We have a great deal to offer.  From this discussion, it was suggested that we need to create a new climate in our church.  As someone wisely put it, “In my opinion, you clean your house before you invite a bunch of new people over.”  I think that’s very well put.  Erma Bombeck would be proud!  The question is: How, exactly, do we clean our house?  How, exactly, do we create this new climate?

     I think of the passage we read from the gospel according to Mark.  A man named Jairus was faced with a situation that was beyond his capacity to resolve.  A woman with a flow of blood was faced with a situation that was beyond her capacity to resolve, as well.  What did they do?  They turned to God.  The solution to their situations was beyond their own capacity to resolve, so they turned to God.  Perhaps that’s how we create a new climate in our church as well.  We may not have all the answers now, but God knows what the answers are.  God is the One who can heal us of our disease.

  And that’s exactly what our Church Revitalization Task Force concluded last Wednesday night.  How do we create a new climate?  We need to turn that question over to God.  We need to pray.  We need to become a praying congregation.  We need to become a people that loves its church so much that we are willing to trust its future to God.  Thus I urge you as strongly as I can: Pray for your congregation.  Pray that the Holy Spirit of God would move mightily in our midst.  Then trust in God to provide the solution we need. 

     I believe it was Eugene Peterson who once said, “The most important thing a minister can do for a congregation is teach it to pray.”  If everyone in this church could learn to pray to God for our congregation’s well-being, then I will have done my job.  And Jesus will say to you as he said to the woman he healed, “Your faith has made you well.”  Amen.

 

 

 

 

5-2-2010 Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Brian K. Jensen

DOUGHNUTS ARE NEVER BIG ENOUGH

    Last Tuesday night my wife and I had both been at work all day long, then gone to a volleyball game at Maplewood, and I’d just gotten home from working out at the Y.M.C.A.  It was probably 9:00 p.m. as I flopped into my chair in the living room.  I was literally down for the count.  That’s when my wife reminded me that we were out of dog food.  She said, “Let’s go   get the dog food, then let’s go to Tim Horton’s.”

     Now normally I’m the one to suggest going to Tim Horton’s – and it may have been a ploy just to get me to go along – but out we both went just the same.  We got the dog food and then we went to Tim Horton’s.  We were graciously served by our church’s own Andrew Bartoe, nattily attired in his best Tim Horton’s brown.  I had a cup of coffee and a doughnut and my wife had a carton of milk and a doughnut.  Okay, I had a bagel and cream cheese too, but that’s beside the point.  As my wife finished her doughnut, she wistfully sighed and said, “Doughnuts are never big enough.”         

     Doughnuts are never big enough.  As she said that, I thought of two things.  First of all, I thought: What a great sermon title!  And second: What an intriguing philosophical statement!  Doughnuts are never big enough, just as the most precious and sacred moments of our lives are far too fleeting.  They are here for but a short time, and in an instant they are gone.

     I think of my mother’s reaction every time we leave Arizona.  As you know, my parents live in the Phoenix, Arizona area.  My mother’s health is such that she and my father can no longer travel to Pennsylvania.  And Phoenix is so far from here that my family and I only get down there about once a year.  Every single time we get ready to leave Arizona and travel back to Pennsylvania, my mother says the very same thing.  She says, “I can’t believe it’s been a week already!”  Ah, doughnuts are never big enough.  Doughnuts are never big enough, and the most precious and sacred moments of our lives are far too fleeting.  They are here for but a short time and in an instant they are gone.

     That’s probably a good summation of how the disciples felt in the passage we read from the gospel according to John.  They had just finished sharing what would come to be known as their “Last Supper” with Jesus.  Soon they would head to the Garden of Gethsemane where he would be arrested, and you know what happened after that.  Three years they had spent with the Master – not a lifetime, to be sure – but it was time enough for him to have grown on each and every  one of them.  They watched as he healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, and mended the lame.  They listened as he spoke of a kingdom that had no end.  The more they saw – the more they heard – the more they came to love this man called Jesus with a love they had never known before.  Only now he would be leaving them.  Doughnuts are never big enough.  Surely they,   too, felt as if the most precious and sacred moments of our lives are far too fleeting.  They are here for but a short time and in an instant they are gone.

     Like I said, the disciples had just finished sharing what would come to be known as their “Last Supper” with Jesus.  During that last supper, Jesus instituted what we now know as the sacrament of communion.  After giving thanks to God, Jesus broke the bread and said, “Take, eat, this is my body broken for you.  This do in remembrance of me.”  Then in the same manner after supper Jesus took the cup saying, “This cup is the new covenant sealed in my blood.    Whenever you drink of it, do so remembering me.”  In this simple act Jesus revealed something to the disciples that they did not understand at the time.  Jesus was showing them that spiritually, he would always be with them.  That very same promise is ours when we partake of the sacrament of communion as well.

     Interestingly enough, we find the institution of the sacrament of communion in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  John does not tell us of the sacrament of communion.  Instead, John paints a different picture.  After supper, Jesus filled a basin with water and girded himself with a towel.  Then he began to wash his disciples’ filthy, dirty feet.  As you heard me say a couple of weeks ago, this was a task that was typically reserved only for the lowest of the low.  Yet here was the Lord of life, washing his disciples’ feet.  After he had done so he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you?  You call me Teacher and Lord – and you are right, for that is what I am.  So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought also to wash one another’s feet.”

     The passage we read from the gospel of John occurs shortly after the foot washing.  There Jesus says, “Now is the Son of man glorified, and in him God is glorified.”  At last Jesus’ hour had come.  “Now is the Son of man glorified,” Jesus says, and because the Son of man is glorified, God will be glorified as well.  How was Jesus to be glorified?  Well, what was about to happen?  Jesus was about to be crucified, was he not?  In other words, it was through Jesus’ crucifixion that he would be glorified, and through him, God would be glorified as well.

   We need to take a look at what it means to be glorified.  The Greek word for “glorified” is “hedoxasthay.”  It means literally, “to make visible.”  Thus, in this context, to glorify God is to make visible the presence of God.  Jesus’ crucifixion makes visible the presence of God. 

     I think of a line from what we call The Shorter Catechism.  The Shorter Catechism is taken from what we call The Westminster Confession of Faith.  The Westminster Confession of Faith was written in 1646 by a group of Calvinists and Puritans trying to establish the Protestant faith in England and Scotland.  The Rev. John Wallis – also a geometry professor at Oxford – later wrote The Shorter Catechism to help children understand The Westminster Confession.  Sorry  to muddy the waters here, but that’s what The Shorter Catechism is.  Like I said, on the subject of glorifying God, I think of a line from what we call The Shorter Catechism.

     The question is asked, “What is the chief end of man?”  Pardon the sexist language, but remember the era in which it was written.  The question is asked, “What is the chief end of man?”  In other words, “What is the role of humanity in the world?” or even, “What is the purpose of human life?”  The answer is, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.”  The chief end of humanity is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.  In other words,    the purpose of our very lives is to glorify God.  The purpose of our very lives is to make visible the presence of God.  And when we do so, we will enjoy God forever.

     So just exactly how do we glorify God?  Just exactly how do we make visible the presence   of God?  Do we, too, have to climb up on a cross and die?  Actually, I think Jesus tells us how that is done in the next few lines of our passage.  There Jesus says, “A new commandment I give you, that you love one another.  Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”        Thus, Jesus has commanded his disciples to love one another, and he has given them the perfect example of how to do so.  The perfect example of how to love is first revealed in Jesus washing his disciples’ feet.  And the perfect example of how to love is further revealed by Jesus willingly going to the cross for our poor sakes.  We might go so far as to say that love is modeled in the foot washing and enacted fully in his crucifixion.  In any case, what Jesus is saying is this: Love is the way that God is glorified, and love necessarily implies humility and self-sacrifice.  Again, love is the way that God is glorified, and love necessarily implies humility and self-sacrifice. 

     Now since Mother’s Day is next week, and since we have our annual Mother’s Day musical and I don’t get to preach, let me give you a “motherly” illustration of this.  Once upon a time, a man stopped outside a flower shop to order some flowers to be sent to his mother who lived 200 miles away.  As he got out of his car, he noticed a little girl, sitting on the curb, crying her eyes out.  He asked her what was wrong and she replied, “I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother.  But I only have 75 cents and a rose costs two dollars.”  The man smiled and said, “Come into the store with me.  We’ll get a rose for your mother.”  He bought the little girl a rose and ordered the flowers to be delivered to his mother.  As they were leaving, he offered to drive the little girl home.  She said, “Thank you very much.  You can take me to see my mother.”

     The little girl directed him on where to drive.  It wasn’t long before they arrived at a cemetery. There the little girl placed her rose on a freshly-dug grave.  The man returned to the flower shop and cancelled the flowers that were scheduled to be delivered to his mother.  Then he picked up a bouquet and drove the 200 miles to his mother’s house.  Love necessarily implies humility and self-sacrifice.  How sad it is that we must so often learn these things the hard way.

Yet it is through such love that God is glorified.

     The purpose of our lives is to glorify God, and we glorify God by loving one another.  Jesus said to his disciples, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.”  Yet there are many kinds of love, are there not?  There is the love of a husband for a wife.  There is the love of a mother for a child.  There is love between best friends, and then there is the love of which Jesus speaks here.  I think Frederick Buechner describes the love of which Jesus speaks quite well in his book, The Magnificent Defeat.  He writes:

The love for equals is a human thing…of friend for friend or brother for brother.  It is     to love what is lovely and loving.  The world smiles.  The love for the less fortunate is     a beautiful thing…the love for those who suffer, for those who are poor; the sick, the failures, the unlovely.  This is compassion, and it touches the heart of the world.

 

The love for the more fortunate is a rare thing…to love those who succeed where we   fail; to rejoice without envy with those who rejoice; the love of the poor for the rich,      or the (servant for the master).  The world is always bewildered by its saints.

 

And then there is the love for the enemy…love for the one who does not love you, but mocks, threatens and inflicts pain.  The tortured’s love for the torturer.  This is God’s love.  It conquers the world.

     Thus far, we’ve pretty much been speaking on an individual level.  It occurs to me, however,

 that maybe there’s more to it than that.  Maybe that’s the purpose of the Church as well.  The Church is called to glorify God.  And the Church glorifies God when it learns to love the ones    it is called to serve.  And that’s what we’ve got to figure out.  Who are we called to serve, and how can we best love them?

     But before we get to that, I think we need to look at our lives as if they were a cup of water.  The cup contains half a cup of water.  The question is: “Is the cup half full, or is the cup half empty?”  It’s a very important question.  When our cup is half full, we are grateful to God for what is in our lives.  Yet when our cup is half empty, we will always feel that we’ve been short-changed.  We will always be seeking to have or to gain more.  One of these ways is the way of God.  One of these ways is the way of the world.  I’ll let you decide which is which.

     When we learn to see that our cups are half full…when we come to love not just those who love us in return, but also the poor, and the successful, and those who actually oppose us, then God is glorified.  Those are precious and sacred moments.  Yet in reality, moments like this are far too fleeting.  They are here for but a short time and then they are gone.  Ah, doughnuts are never big enough, are they?  So do what I like to do.  Order two.  Amen.