Loving God, by the power of your Holy Spirit help me to speak and us to hear your living word. On your people pour your power and grant that each one of us may be touched and moved in the way you want us to go. We ask it in Jesus' name. Amen
A certain man - a lawyer - stood up to put Jesus to the test, asking him: "Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?"
Jesus answers: What is written in the law? What do you read there?"
The lawyer replies, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
and with all your soul, and with all your strength,
and with all your mind; and your neighbour as
yourself."
Jesus then says You have answered rightly, do this and you will live."
Up to this point in the conversation between Jesus and the lawyer everything has gone fine - the questions and the answers exchanged by Jesus and the lawyer have encapsulated the essence not only of Judaism, but indeed of all religions.
Love God - love your neighbour.
But then comes the real question the lawyer wanted to ask, the question to test the character and the faith of Jesus - a question that indeed tests the character and the faith that each one of has, that question has only five words in it - five words that each of us should try to remember and to answer for ourselves at least once a week, if not once each and every day.
That question is this - "And who is my neighbour?"
It is a pretty heavy question my friends - a question upon whose answer depends much of what we say and do - a question upon whose answer may even depend our relationship with God.
And who is my neighbour?
Who is it that I am to love as I love myself?
Who is that I am to show favour to?
Who is that I am called to work for?
To sacrifice for?
To pray for?
The scripture states that the lawyer asked Jesus this question as a means of justifying himself - as a means of showing that he - a teacher of the law of God - was doing all that God asked him to do.
It has been suggested - and I think rightly so given some of the teachings of the time and the reality of human nature at all times, that the lawyer is really asking Jesus:
"Who is NOT my neighbour? Who is that I am allowed to ignore or to neglect? Perhaps even to hate? What is the minimal thing that I need to do to keep God's law of love - and what can I safely get away with not doing...
That is a horrifying approach to keeping the law of God isn't it? Who must I love - and who can I get away with not loving...
It is a horrifying approach to keeping the law of God - but it makes sense when you think about it; it makes sense when you look at the world and consider the problems within it.
There are sinners my friends - people so evil that even God surely cannot love them - Mao Tse Tung, Stalin, Hitler, Bin Laden - people who have broken God's law in the most horrible ways imaginable.
Surely these monsters are not our neighbours.
Surely we do not need to love them.
Surely there are other people who are not our neighbours as well - people who deserve our rebuke, our contempt, our anger, or simply our neglect?
Surely those who live outside the law of God live outside of the law that says we should love them.
Such, I think, was the kind of reasoning that lay behind the lawyer's question, "And who is my neighbour?"
Think about it - How often do we write people off because they are beyond the pale? How often do we focus our attention, our time, our love, upon particular kinds of people because of where they live and what they do and how they are related to us, and deliberately ignore, neglect, or slight others because of where they live and what they do?
I know that in myself I sometimes feel a tremendous anger toward the lazy, towards the freeloaders and the takers of our society. I recall the words of Scripture that state that those who would eat should work - and I allow myself at times to get carried away by my feelings - by my sense of what is right - and to judge those whom I have NEVER MET by whether or not they have a job or are even trying to work.
And I know that in almost every place I have lived in this world there is a resentment towards an entire class of people who happen to come from another land - a resentment that is built upon some true horror stories - but which, in the end, fails to discriminate between persons in that class of people who have done wrong and those who have not.
Refugees, immigrants, illegal immigrants domestic helpers, people with AIDS, drug users, people who rely on welfare, criminals, prostitutes, people who committed adultery, the list of the unworthy at times seems endless, the list of those who are not worthy to be called our neighbours. The list of those who for one reason or another do not deserve our love, or at least not as worthy of as much love as we might give to those we regard as more pure, more deserving, more esteemed by God. We do not love them as much as we might love those who do good in our eyes.
Yes indeed, the lawyer was seeking to justify himself when he asked Jesus "And who is my neighbour", and perhaps - in a silent way - in an unspoken way - so do we when we hear the commandment of God to love our neighbours as our self.
But wanting to justify himself, the lawyers asked Jesus, "And who is my neighbour?"
And Jesus replied: "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. And by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a a Pakistani - a prostitute - an adulterer - a man who had been on welfare for many years - an unrepentant sinner - while travelling came near the man, and when he saw him, he was moved by pity and he wrapped up his wounds, and took him in his own car, and took care of him, and paid for his lodgings until he was well again.
We know, don't we, the answer to the question that Jesus then asks the lawyer - the question: "which of these three, do you think, was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?"
We know the answer because we have heard it before. And because deep within us the law of God is indeed written upon our hearts by the Holy Spirit. We know - and - if we are honest - we, like the lawyer, feel unjustified, unholy - not really as loving as we thought we were at the first.
And so it should be - for each of us has indeed fallen short of the glory of God.
Who was a neighbour to the man?
The lawyer knew the answer - it was written in his heart as well. He knew that the one who showed the man mercy was neighbour to him, and with Jesus' next words, the words, "Go and do likewise" he realized that the really important question concerning loving others was not so much "And who is my neighbour " but rather "What must I do to be a neighbour?" "To whom must I become a neighbour?"
It is not always an easy question to answer. It is not always easy because while we know the answer in our head and our hearts - real life keeps getting in the way.
Quite a few years ago a study was done at a University.
The study dealt with people's readiness to help others. Forty students were involved. Half of them were given a manuscript on vocational placements of seminarians of which they were to make a recording. The other half were given the text of today's parable with the same instructions. The recording session was to take place on the other side of the campus from where they were.
One third of the students were told that they had plenty of time to reach the recording session. One third was told that they had to go immediately in order to make it on time. And one third were told that they were already late. Each student was given a designated route to the recording studio. Along that route, although the students did not know it, a man had been placed. He was in one of the longer and darker alleys - and he was to pretend to be in pain and in obvious need of help.
The results are very instructive. First of all the reaction of the students to the man in the alley was not affected in the slightest by the material that they had read and practised before heading for their recording session.
The main factor in whether or not the students stopped to help the man in pain was whether or not they had enough time to get to the recording studio.
Only 16 of the 40 students stopped at all. Of this number the most were from students who had plenty of time - 63% of those students stopped. Only 45% of those with just enough time stopped, and only 10% of those who were told that they were late stopped.
"What must I do to inherit eternal life" is the question the lawyer first asks Jesus.
It was a question meant to test the knowledge and faith of Jesus.
The answer to that question - and to the follow-up question, "Who is my neighbour", test us.
What are your priorities? What keeps you from loving others? From not only recognizing them as your neighbours, but actually helping them, actually loving them?
Perhaps it is time to stop and think about what is important - about what leads to eternal life, and what does not.
Each day God sends people to us - people for us to love - whether those people be clerks in our banks and our stores, beggers on our streets, teenagers on our corners, or the people who live a few blocks over from us.
It is not always easy to love the people we meet.
God has also sent to me on different days people who have hurt me or hurt others - and my natural reaction- which is not always one of kindness or mercy - tries to get in my way - and in the way of Christ's love coming out from within me. I want to turn away from - to ignore - to forget certain people. I want to be angry at certain people and groups of people and to feel good about that anger - to feel righteous in it - and so it is for most of you as well.
There are people out there who do not act like they are our neighbours, or the neighbours of anyone else. People who do not show love to me - or to anyone or anything else I care for.
That is the way it is in the world around us.
But we are not of the world my friends. We are of God - we are born of the Spirit into Christ, and we are called to live differently - to think differently - to do things differently.
We are called to be neighbours to those who are not our neighbours - to love those who do not necessarily love us, to give to others who may not ever give back to us.
"Who was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?" "What must I do to be a neighbour?" "To whom must I become a neighbour?"
These are all good questions, questions that each of us do well to ponder as we consider the larger question that Jesus responds too in today's gospel.
"Teacher. What must I do to inherit eternal life?"
And as we ponder his answer:
'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind' ; and, 'Love your neighbour as yourself.'"
May God bless you in your meditation. Amen.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Sunday, June 16, 2013
I Kings 19:1-18; Psalms 42 and 43; Luke 8:26-39
Loving God, breath your Spirit upon us that we may receive Your Word afresh and anew. Take my lips and speak through them; take our minds and think through them; take our hearts and set them on fire. We ask it in the name of Jesus. Amen.
I would like to start with a little poem today. It is called "Fathers Are Wonderful People" and it goes like this:
Fathers are wonderful people, too little understood.
And we do not sing their praises as often as we should.
For, somehow, Father seems to be the man who pays the bills.
While Mother binds up little hurts and nurses all our ills, and Father struggles daily to live up to his image as protector and provider and hero of the scrimmage.
And perhaps that is the reason we sometimes get the notion that Fathers are not subject to the thing we call emotion,
But if you look inside Dad's heart, where no one else can see,
You'll find he's sentimental and as soft as he can be.
But he's so busy every day in the grueling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff to his partner and his wife.
But Fathers are just wonderful in a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments and accolades of praise,
For the only reason Dad aspires to fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him and to bring them happiness
and like Our Heavenly Father, he's a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on to be always on our side.
The poem is about a model family - with father and mother and children living together. Would that this were always the case. What struck me about the poem, aside from it's lovely attempt to praise Fathers - as they ought to be praised, were the lines in the middle, the lines that go
we sometimes get the notion that Fathers are not subject to the thing we call emotion, But if you look inside Dad's heart, where no one else can see, You'll find he's sentimental and as soft as he can be.
For many people in my generation, and I think for many in most generations before mine and even those after mine, it was and is easy to get the impression that our fathers had or have no emotion, that they indeed left or leave the sentimental stuff to their wives.
But it is not so.
Underneath everything men - as much as women, fathers - as much as mothers feel and feel deeply.
It is just that so many of them get caught up in the performance of duties in fulfilling roles that they are expected to fulfil or think that they are expected to fulfil, that they suppress their emotions.
They are busy every day. They are trying to make a home and life for their families. Many fathers in Hong Kong work 10 to 11 hours in a day. They have expectations of themselves and of their children, and the achievement and measurement of these things sometimes becomes more important than their own inner selves and the inner and essential aspects of their children. Performance becomes more important then persons, ability more important than attitude, learning more important than loving, and earning more important than enjoyment, though they do not intend for this to be so, though they do not plan for this to be so.
And the result is that some grow tired and depressed, while their children become alienated from them, never understanding why daddy is away from them so much.
Some burn out.
Some simply acquire a reputation as being demanding and unappreciative of their children.
But underneath; underneath is flesh and blood
- flesh and blood that grows tired and that screams out for rest.
- flesh and blood that demands spiritual food - but believes that it must feed others first
- flesh and blood that needs guidance - but believes that it is supposed to be the one who guides.
It is very hard to be a man, it is very hard to be a father, and it is hard to admit to this because men, because fathers, believe that they must be strong, and are expected to be.
In today's reading from First Kings, we are introduced to a man at the end of his rope.
Elijah was worn out! He couldn't go any further. He was exhausted. He was at the end of his rope!
He had fought the good fight.
He had battled against the false prophets of the court of Ahab the King. He had spoken against the idolatry fostered by Queen Jezebel. He had performed his duties - he had lived up to his calling. And as a result he was condemned to die by those angry with him; by those God had sent him to preach against.
And so he fled into the wilderness - alone - afraid - feeling sorry for himself - and lay down under a miserable old broom tree, a bush barely able to give shade to bird, much less a man, and wishing that he was dead, telling God that he had enough, he fell asleep.
And what happened?
An angel woke him up a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. Elijah ate and drank and lay down again.
Again the angel woke him and he ate and drank.
Notice that the angel who ministers to him does not do 'spiritual' stuff, he does not say to Elijah, "pray about it, Elijah, and you'll feel better".
No the angel feeds him and makes him rest, telling him that if he does not, the journey will be too much for him...
Sometimes we just need time out and someone to support us. We really need to pause to eat and drink - so that we can continue the journey we are on. Only then are we ready for prayer - only then can we be ready to be spiritually restored.
The story continues with Elijah continuing on into the wilderness until he comes to Mt Horeb, to the Mountain of God, to the place where God revealed himself to Moses and to Israel in cloud and in fire: and there the Lord speaks to him and tells him that he is about to pass by him, that he is about to show himself to him.
Elijah goes out to the mouth of the cave where he has spent the night and looks for the Lord in the strong wind that comes upon the mountain, and then in the earthquake that shakes it, and in the fire that follows, but he does not find God there.
But after the fire comes a still small voice - some translations call it a shear silence, others a gentle whisper. And in this still small voice within - in this inner silence - God visits with Elijah.
Picture this story.
We have wind, earthquake and fire. All of these are busy, busy, busy things. And LOUD! But God is not in them.
Have you ever felt like Elijah.
Have you ever felt that God is not listening to you,
that no one is really following God, that you are the only one left and you cannot find God? That you might as well give up and die?
Maybe it's all the busyness, all the commotion in your life, all the hurry and activities, all the trying to cope, all the work you do to make a good life, that gets in the way of your living, that gets in the way of seeing what you need to see, and hearing what need to hear.
Sometimes we need to just stop and listen. To listen to the silence. To look for God in the calm - instead of in the midst of activity.
That is what Elijah was led to do.
Elijah, in his exhaustion, in his fear, timed out.
He got away for a while from the activities that God had called to do; and in his fear and his pain, his loneliness and his hunger, he called out to God and told God of his weakness, and then sought God's presence.
And God became present to him in the sheer silence within - and in that visit God equipped Elijah to once again go out and perform those things that God wanted him to do, he commissioned Elijah, and he assured Elijah that he was not alone - that many faithful persons were yet with him.
Sometimes that is what we need as men - and as fathers.
We need to time out, to get in touch with God, to listen to the silence rather than to the noise and the activity that comes and goes about us.
We need to pause and to listen so that we might have the strength and the guidance we need to do what we are called to do.
Think of the number of times that Jesus took time apart; how he would send the disciples on ahead of him while he paused to pray on a mountain side; how he would prepare himself for his next round of activity by first going away by himself to pray, by first going away to listen to the silence.
Fathers need,
Mothers need,
we all need,
restoration.
It can be found in silence. In being apart - in being with God.
These times allow us to refocus, to refresh, to remember what is important and what is not.
There is a story I heard, and it was called "Priceless Scribbles" and it concerns a father who touched his child's life in an unexpected way.
It started this way:
As my father walked into the living room, my brother cowered slightly; he sensed he had done something wrong. From a distance I could see he had opened my Father's brand new hymnal and scribbled all over the first page with a pen. Staring at my father fearfully, we both waited for his punishment.
My father picked up his prized hymnal, looked at it carefully and then sat down, without saying a word. Books were precious to him; he was a minister with several academic degrees. For him, books were knowledge.
What he did next was remarkable. Instead of punishing my brother, instead of scolding, or yelling, he took the pen from my brother's hand, and then wrote in the book himself, alongside the scribbles that John had made.
"John's work, 1959, age 2. How many times have I looked into your beautiful face and into your warm, alert eyes looking up at me and thanked God for the one who has now scribbled in my new hymnal. You have made the book sacred, as have your brother and sister to so much of my life."
"Wow", I thought, "This is punishment?"
The author goes on to say how that hymnal became a treasured family possession, how it was tangible proof that their parents loved them, how it taught the lesson that what really matters is people, not objects; patience, not judgement; love, not anger.
These are the things that come to us as men, as fathers, as humans, when we pause to listen to the silence when we stop and seek out God.
The poem that began this sermon suggested that we do not sing the praises of our fathers as often as we should, and this is true.
We do not appreciate often enough the humanity of our fathers, how they struggle to do their best by us, how they labour every bit as hard as our mothers to birth us - how they dream for us and work for us and grow tired for us.
I call you today to remember to take some time to pause and listen to the silence and then to go on, to do what God is calling you to do - renewed in the strength that he provides.
I call you to pray for your fathers and for men everywhere: to pray that they too may pause and eat and drink and listen to the silence, to the still small voice within, and rise up knowing that they are not alone, that they have both God and you with them - to will and to do what is good and right to do.
Praise be to God, day by day. Amen!
I would like to start with a little poem today. It is called "Fathers Are Wonderful People" and it goes like this:
Fathers are wonderful people, too little understood.
And we do not sing their praises as often as we should.
For, somehow, Father seems to be the man who pays the bills.
While Mother binds up little hurts and nurses all our ills, and Father struggles daily to live up to his image as protector and provider and hero of the scrimmage.
And perhaps that is the reason we sometimes get the notion that Fathers are not subject to the thing we call emotion,
But if you look inside Dad's heart, where no one else can see,
You'll find he's sentimental and as soft as he can be.
But he's so busy every day in the grueling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff to his partner and his wife.
But Fathers are just wonderful in a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments and accolades of praise,
For the only reason Dad aspires to fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him and to bring them happiness
and like Our Heavenly Father, he's a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on to be always on our side.
The poem is about a model family - with father and mother and children living together. Would that this were always the case. What struck me about the poem, aside from it's lovely attempt to praise Fathers - as they ought to be praised, were the lines in the middle, the lines that go
we sometimes get the notion that Fathers are not subject to the thing we call emotion, But if you look inside Dad's heart, where no one else can see, You'll find he's sentimental and as soft as he can be.
For many people in my generation, and I think for many in most generations before mine and even those after mine, it was and is easy to get the impression that our fathers had or have no emotion, that they indeed left or leave the sentimental stuff to their wives.
But it is not so.
Underneath everything men - as much as women, fathers - as much as mothers feel and feel deeply.
It is just that so many of them get caught up in the performance of duties in fulfilling roles that they are expected to fulfil or think that they are expected to fulfil, that they suppress their emotions.
They are busy every day. They are trying to make a home and life for their families. Many fathers in Hong Kong work 10 to 11 hours in a day. They have expectations of themselves and of their children, and the achievement and measurement of these things sometimes becomes more important than their own inner selves and the inner and essential aspects of their children. Performance becomes more important then persons, ability more important than attitude, learning more important than loving, and earning more important than enjoyment, though they do not intend for this to be so, though they do not plan for this to be so.
And the result is that some grow tired and depressed, while their children become alienated from them, never understanding why daddy is away from them so much.
Some burn out.
Some simply acquire a reputation as being demanding and unappreciative of their children.
But underneath; underneath is flesh and blood
- flesh and blood that grows tired and that screams out for rest.
- flesh and blood that demands spiritual food - but believes that it must feed others first
- flesh and blood that needs guidance - but believes that it is supposed to be the one who guides.
It is very hard to be a man, it is very hard to be a father, and it is hard to admit to this because men, because fathers, believe that they must be strong, and are expected to be.
In today's reading from First Kings, we are introduced to a man at the end of his rope.
Elijah was worn out! He couldn't go any further. He was exhausted. He was at the end of his rope!
He had fought the good fight.
He had battled against the false prophets of the court of Ahab the King. He had spoken against the idolatry fostered by Queen Jezebel. He had performed his duties - he had lived up to his calling. And as a result he was condemned to die by those angry with him; by those God had sent him to preach against.
And so he fled into the wilderness - alone - afraid - feeling sorry for himself - and lay down under a miserable old broom tree, a bush barely able to give shade to bird, much less a man, and wishing that he was dead, telling God that he had enough, he fell asleep.
And what happened?
An angel woke him up a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. Elijah ate and drank and lay down again.
Again the angel woke him and he ate and drank.
Notice that the angel who ministers to him does not do 'spiritual' stuff, he does not say to Elijah, "pray about it, Elijah, and you'll feel better".
No the angel feeds him and makes him rest, telling him that if he does not, the journey will be too much for him...
Sometimes we just need time out and someone to support us. We really need to pause to eat and drink - so that we can continue the journey we are on. Only then are we ready for prayer - only then can we be ready to be spiritually restored.
The story continues with Elijah continuing on into the wilderness until he comes to Mt Horeb, to the Mountain of God, to the place where God revealed himself to Moses and to Israel in cloud and in fire: and there the Lord speaks to him and tells him that he is about to pass by him, that he is about to show himself to him.
Elijah goes out to the mouth of the cave where he has spent the night and looks for the Lord in the strong wind that comes upon the mountain, and then in the earthquake that shakes it, and in the fire that follows, but he does not find God there.
But after the fire comes a still small voice - some translations call it a shear silence, others a gentle whisper. And in this still small voice within - in this inner silence - God visits with Elijah.
Picture this story.
We have wind, earthquake and fire. All of these are busy, busy, busy things. And LOUD! But God is not in them.
Have you ever felt like Elijah.
Have you ever felt that God is not listening to you,
that no one is really following God, that you are the only one left and you cannot find God? That you might as well give up and die?
Maybe it's all the busyness, all the commotion in your life, all the hurry and activities, all the trying to cope, all the work you do to make a good life, that gets in the way of your living, that gets in the way of seeing what you need to see, and hearing what need to hear.
Sometimes we need to just stop and listen. To listen to the silence. To look for God in the calm - instead of in the midst of activity.
That is what Elijah was led to do.
Elijah, in his exhaustion, in his fear, timed out.
He got away for a while from the activities that God had called to do; and in his fear and his pain, his loneliness and his hunger, he called out to God and told God of his weakness, and then sought God's presence.
And God became present to him in the sheer silence within - and in that visit God equipped Elijah to once again go out and perform those things that God wanted him to do, he commissioned Elijah, and he assured Elijah that he was not alone - that many faithful persons were yet with him.
Sometimes that is what we need as men - and as fathers.
We need to time out, to get in touch with God, to listen to the silence rather than to the noise and the activity that comes and goes about us.
We need to pause and to listen so that we might have the strength and the guidance we need to do what we are called to do.
Think of the number of times that Jesus took time apart; how he would send the disciples on ahead of him while he paused to pray on a mountain side; how he would prepare himself for his next round of activity by first going away by himself to pray, by first going away to listen to the silence.
Fathers need,
Mothers need,
we all need,
restoration.
It can be found in silence. In being apart - in being with God.
These times allow us to refocus, to refresh, to remember what is important and what is not.
There is a story I heard, and it was called "Priceless Scribbles" and it concerns a father who touched his child's life in an unexpected way.
It started this way:
As my father walked into the living room, my brother cowered slightly; he sensed he had done something wrong. From a distance I could see he had opened my Father's brand new hymnal and scribbled all over the first page with a pen. Staring at my father fearfully, we both waited for his punishment.
My father picked up his prized hymnal, looked at it carefully and then sat down, without saying a word. Books were precious to him; he was a minister with several academic degrees. For him, books were knowledge.
What he did next was remarkable. Instead of punishing my brother, instead of scolding, or yelling, he took the pen from my brother's hand, and then wrote in the book himself, alongside the scribbles that John had made.
"John's work, 1959, age 2. How many times have I looked into your beautiful face and into your warm, alert eyes looking up at me and thanked God for the one who has now scribbled in my new hymnal. You have made the book sacred, as have your brother and sister to so much of my life."
"Wow", I thought, "This is punishment?"
The author goes on to say how that hymnal became a treasured family possession, how it was tangible proof that their parents loved them, how it taught the lesson that what really matters is people, not objects; patience, not judgement; love, not anger.
These are the things that come to us as men, as fathers, as humans, when we pause to listen to the silence when we stop and seek out God.
The poem that began this sermon suggested that we do not sing the praises of our fathers as often as we should, and this is true.
We do not appreciate often enough the humanity of our fathers, how they struggle to do their best by us, how they labour every bit as hard as our mothers to birth us - how they dream for us and work for us and grow tired for us.
I call you today to remember to take some time to pause and listen to the silence and then to go on, to do what God is calling you to do - renewed in the strength that he provides.
I call you to pray for your fathers and for men everywhere: to pray that they too may pause and eat and drink and listen to the silence, to the still small voice within, and rise up knowing that they are not alone, that they have both God and you with them - to will and to do what is good and right to do.
Praise be to God, day by day. Amen!
Sunday, June 9, 2013
I Samuel 11:26 - 12:15, Psalm 32; Galatians 2:11-21; Luke 7:36-50
O Lord, we pray, speak in this place, in the calming of our minds and the longing of our hearts, by the words of my lips and in the meditations of our hearts. Speak, O Lord, for your servants listen. Amen.
We often do not realize the effects words have on us. When we read or hear a word, emotional reactions go off in us very quickly and that changes what we understand. And our reactions may be very different than the person sitting next to us. It's important to be aware of that as we consider our reaction to scripture, so I'd like to begin today with an exercise in free association. I'm going to say a word and then ask you what sort of feelings or emotions that stirs up within you. There are no marks given for this so just go with it. The word is "learning". Now, how many of you had a positive reaction, it caused good feelings? A negative reaction, it made you uncomfortable? How many of us associate "learning" with thoughts of growth, challenge, knowledge? How many of us associate "learning" with ideas of discipline, exams, fear? It's important to pay attention to those feelings so we can understand ourselves and our gospel lesson for today.
Jesus says: "I have more things to teach you but you cannot bear them now. But when the Spirit of truth comes he will lead you into all truth". That's a pretty clear statement about learning and needing to learn. If learning sets off positive vibrations within us we'll hear that as a reassuring, hopeful, exciting statement - there's more to learn. But if learning sets of negative vibrations in us we may well hear that statement as threatening, demanding, judging - expecting from us more than we can give. I'm not saying you should feel one way or the other about learning. Learning has always been a positive experience for me so I find it sad when others do not enjoy it. But my point is not to make you think you should like learning. My point is to have us listen, at a very deep level, to what Jesus is saying and to be aware of our reaction to his words.
Jesus clearly indicates that we learn in stages. He tells the disciples that they can handle this much now and there's more later on - but they couldn't handle it now even if he told them. That's quite true. We are all at different stages in the journey of faith and life and what we can cope with changes. That's not a judgement, it's a statement of fact. It's not a judgement on humanity to say that we have to crawl before we run and that most of us have to develop some proficiency in walking before we start to skip. It's not judgement, it's life. To blame people for being at different stages in the growth of faith makes as much sense as blaming my 3 year-old daughter for not being able to do secondary school maths.
So we develop through stages. But there is a foundation on which all our Christian development is built. If you like, our growth in faith is like a house with many different rooms that we can explore in a variety of ways, but the entrance door through which we all must pass is faith. Paul says "since we are justified by faith let us have peace with God." What does it mean to be "justified"? This is basic to a true understanding of Christian faith and life so, even if you remember nothing else from this morning, try and hang onto this.
We can talk about justification in a couple of ways. The traditional way, and probably what Paul had in mind is to think of a courtroom where someone is tried and acquitted. In such a scenario we would say that God acts as a judge and you and I stand accused of having broken God's law. Whether it's the Ten Commandments or the Great Commandment - you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength and your neighbour as yourself - most of us are honest enough to admit that, at least part of the time, we haven't kept the commands. We enter God's courtroom rightly accused and Jesus provides our defense. We are acquitted, justified, because of our faith in him. That's a legal understanding of what Paul is saying.
But there's another use of justified which may be more congenial and accessible to you - and which works just as well. Many of us are familiar with computers and word processors. Even if you're not don't tune out now! On a computer we often have the option of justifying our work. Take your bulletin and open it up to the front page. If you look down the left hand margin you'll see that everything runs out flush to the edge. That is left-justified. We could, just as easily, set it up to be right- justified, although it would look somewhat odd. With another command it could be fully justified - straight margins on both right- and left-hand sides, which is what often happens in magazine columns. If we think of this in terms of our Christian faith, we could say that we when are "justified by faith" we are as much like Jesus as possible, without ragged edges around the outside of our lives - ragged edges of behaviour or language or belief.
What's the point of all this? I'm so glad you asked. Recall what we said earlier. God and Jesus want us to grow up, mature, develop into all truth. But the first stage of that journey of growing up is faith. Individual faith in Jesus. The first and most significant stage is to say "I believe". When we say that we don't know what it means. We have no idea where that journey may take us. But the first step is crucial. It doesn't matter what good works we've done or what offices we've held; it doesn't matter who our parents were or our partner or children might be; it doesn't matter whether we're church members or not, whether we give huge amounts or nothing; it doesn't matter what we may have been or done. All of that important stuff comes second. All of that is part of growing into all truth. The first step is accepting the gift of faith. That's tough for many young people because we have been deeply ingrained with the notion that if we don't earn it, buy it, deserve it, acquire it by our own effort than it's not worth having. The truth is different - the greatest things in life and life eternal come to us only as a gift and we can achieve them only if we're willing to receive them as gifts.
Having established that common foundation of faith we're ready to talk about growing into truth. The Spirit is our guide for that truth. A guide who is attuned to our abilities and moves us along at our own pace. Have you ever tried to learn from someone who had a natural talent? It drives me nuts! It comes so easily to them and they look at me with such pity! I'd far rather learn from someone who had to slog it out like you and me, mastering each step as a result of effort. The Spirit is such a considerate guide.
Jesus had things to say to the disciples. He has things to say to us. But there is often a limit to what we can take on board. The disciples were coping with the imminent tragedy of his death and what would come after. They couldn't handle much more. So too with us. There are times and places in our life's journey where it is all we can do to stay afloat and tread water in one place, much less consider striking off to a distant point of land. Can you remember a time when you felt like you were at your limit? Maybe you feel that way this morning. There is a sensitivity in the Spirit, an awareness of what we are capable of doing at each point in our journey.
Truth in our lives is built in stages. The foundations are as important as the heights we achieve. Karl Barth, one of the great theological minds of the century, whose books fill shelves in libraries, was once asked the greatest truth he ever learned. "The greatest truth? The greatest truth is this: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so". We crawl before we run. We walk before we skip. God delights in our growth at whatever stage we're at. When was the last time you stopped to realize that - God delights in you? Roll that around in your mind this afternoon - "God delights in me" - and see if it doesn't change your day.
But being sensitive to where we are is combined with the expectation that we'll grow. If there are truths we cannot bear now that clearly implies that down the road we will be able to bear them. The most sensitive of teachers also needs a willing student. God expects us to be people who want to grow.
So I'll ask, point-blank and straight-out, where are you consciously, deliberately seeking to grow in your knowledge and love of God? What have you done in the last six months to increase your awareness of God? There are countless resources: hundreds of books and magazines and tapes; study groups, prayer groups, topical discussion groups, seminars and courses; individual guides and teachers; the growth that comes from seriously trying each day to be more attuned to God or to consciously serve another. The list is endless. One of the saddest sight I know is the Christian who has stopped growing, who has denied their spiritual birthright, who refuses to let the Spirit guide them into new awareness and truth.
In fun houses and science displays we can sometimes see strange mirrors. Look at one and we appear to be short and fat. Look at another and we appear to be tall, thin giants. Those mirrors give a distorted picture of the truth. In this world many voices counsel us and many things pressure us. Sometimes evil masquerades as good. Sometimes good appears unreasonably demanding or difficult and we draw away. We all need, to stand before Christ, the true mirror of life and through the action of the Spirit in our lives be justified to him. So that, as far as possible, we resemble him, ragged neither to the left nor to the right, distorted in neither our speaking or acting, our thinking or being. So, are you eagerly cooperating as the Spirit guides you into all truth? Thanks be to God. Amen
We often do not realize the effects words have on us. When we read or hear a word, emotional reactions go off in us very quickly and that changes what we understand. And our reactions may be very different than the person sitting next to us. It's important to be aware of that as we consider our reaction to scripture, so I'd like to begin today with an exercise in free association. I'm going to say a word and then ask you what sort of feelings or emotions that stirs up within you. There are no marks given for this so just go with it. The word is "learning". Now, how many of you had a positive reaction, it caused good feelings? A negative reaction, it made you uncomfortable? How many of us associate "learning" with thoughts of growth, challenge, knowledge? How many of us associate "learning" with ideas of discipline, exams, fear? It's important to pay attention to those feelings so we can understand ourselves and our gospel lesson for today.
Jesus says: "I have more things to teach you but you cannot bear them now. But when the Spirit of truth comes he will lead you into all truth". That's a pretty clear statement about learning and needing to learn. If learning sets off positive vibrations within us we'll hear that as a reassuring, hopeful, exciting statement - there's more to learn. But if learning sets of negative vibrations in us we may well hear that statement as threatening, demanding, judging - expecting from us more than we can give. I'm not saying you should feel one way or the other about learning. Learning has always been a positive experience for me so I find it sad when others do not enjoy it. But my point is not to make you think you should like learning. My point is to have us listen, at a very deep level, to what Jesus is saying and to be aware of our reaction to his words.
Jesus clearly indicates that we learn in stages. He tells the disciples that they can handle this much now and there's more later on - but they couldn't handle it now even if he told them. That's quite true. We are all at different stages in the journey of faith and life and what we can cope with changes. That's not a judgement, it's a statement of fact. It's not a judgement on humanity to say that we have to crawl before we run and that most of us have to develop some proficiency in walking before we start to skip. It's not judgement, it's life. To blame people for being at different stages in the growth of faith makes as much sense as blaming my 3 year-old daughter for not being able to do secondary school maths.
So we develop through stages. But there is a foundation on which all our Christian development is built. If you like, our growth in faith is like a house with many different rooms that we can explore in a variety of ways, but the entrance door through which we all must pass is faith. Paul says "since we are justified by faith let us have peace with God." What does it mean to be "justified"? This is basic to a true understanding of Christian faith and life so, even if you remember nothing else from this morning, try and hang onto this.
We can talk about justification in a couple of ways. The traditional way, and probably what Paul had in mind is to think of a courtroom where someone is tried and acquitted. In such a scenario we would say that God acts as a judge and you and I stand accused of having broken God's law. Whether it's the Ten Commandments or the Great Commandment - you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength and your neighbour as yourself - most of us are honest enough to admit that, at least part of the time, we haven't kept the commands. We enter God's courtroom rightly accused and Jesus provides our defense. We are acquitted, justified, because of our faith in him. That's a legal understanding of what Paul is saying.
But there's another use of justified which may be more congenial and accessible to you - and which works just as well. Many of us are familiar with computers and word processors. Even if you're not don't tune out now! On a computer we often have the option of justifying our work. Take your bulletin and open it up to the front page. If you look down the left hand margin you'll see that everything runs out flush to the edge. That is left-justified. We could, just as easily, set it up to be right- justified, although it would look somewhat odd. With another command it could be fully justified - straight margins on both right- and left-hand sides, which is what often happens in magazine columns. If we think of this in terms of our Christian faith, we could say that we when are "justified by faith" we are as much like Jesus as possible, without ragged edges around the outside of our lives - ragged edges of behaviour or language or belief.
What's the point of all this? I'm so glad you asked. Recall what we said earlier. God and Jesus want us to grow up, mature, develop into all truth. But the first stage of that journey of growing up is faith. Individual faith in Jesus. The first and most significant stage is to say "I believe". When we say that we don't know what it means. We have no idea where that journey may take us. But the first step is crucial. It doesn't matter what good works we've done or what offices we've held; it doesn't matter who our parents were or our partner or children might be; it doesn't matter whether we're church members or not, whether we give huge amounts or nothing; it doesn't matter what we may have been or done. All of that important stuff comes second. All of that is part of growing into all truth. The first step is accepting the gift of faith. That's tough for many young people because we have been deeply ingrained with the notion that if we don't earn it, buy it, deserve it, acquire it by our own effort than it's not worth having. The truth is different - the greatest things in life and life eternal come to us only as a gift and we can achieve them only if we're willing to receive them as gifts.
Having established that common foundation of faith we're ready to talk about growing into truth. The Spirit is our guide for that truth. A guide who is attuned to our abilities and moves us along at our own pace. Have you ever tried to learn from someone who had a natural talent? It drives me nuts! It comes so easily to them and they look at me with such pity! I'd far rather learn from someone who had to slog it out like you and me, mastering each step as a result of effort. The Spirit is such a considerate guide.
Jesus had things to say to the disciples. He has things to say to us. But there is often a limit to what we can take on board. The disciples were coping with the imminent tragedy of his death and what would come after. They couldn't handle much more. So too with us. There are times and places in our life's journey where it is all we can do to stay afloat and tread water in one place, much less consider striking off to a distant point of land. Can you remember a time when you felt like you were at your limit? Maybe you feel that way this morning. There is a sensitivity in the Spirit, an awareness of what we are capable of doing at each point in our journey.
Truth in our lives is built in stages. The foundations are as important as the heights we achieve. Karl Barth, one of the great theological minds of the century, whose books fill shelves in libraries, was once asked the greatest truth he ever learned. "The greatest truth? The greatest truth is this: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so". We crawl before we run. We walk before we skip. God delights in our growth at whatever stage we're at. When was the last time you stopped to realize that - God delights in you? Roll that around in your mind this afternoon - "God delights in me" - and see if it doesn't change your day.
But being sensitive to where we are is combined with the expectation that we'll grow. If there are truths we cannot bear now that clearly implies that down the road we will be able to bear them. The most sensitive of teachers also needs a willing student. God expects us to be people who want to grow.
So I'll ask, point-blank and straight-out, where are you consciously, deliberately seeking to grow in your knowledge and love of God? What have you done in the last six months to increase your awareness of God? There are countless resources: hundreds of books and magazines and tapes; study groups, prayer groups, topical discussion groups, seminars and courses; individual guides and teachers; the growth that comes from seriously trying each day to be more attuned to God or to consciously serve another. The list is endless. One of the saddest sight I know is the Christian who has stopped growing, who has denied their spiritual birthright, who refuses to let the Spirit guide them into new awareness and truth.
In fun houses and science displays we can sometimes see strange mirrors. Look at one and we appear to be short and fat. Look at another and we appear to be tall, thin giants. Those mirrors give a distorted picture of the truth. In this world many voices counsel us and many things pressure us. Sometimes evil masquerades as good. Sometimes good appears unreasonably demanding or difficult and we draw away. We all need, to stand before Christ, the true mirror of life and through the action of the Spirit in our lives be justified to him. So that, as far as possible, we resemble him, ragged neither to the left nor to the right, distorted in neither our speaking or acting, our thinking or being. So, are you eagerly cooperating as the Spirit guides you into all truth? Thanks be to God. Amen
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Galatians 2:15-21
Loving God, breath your Spirit upon us that we may receive Your Word afresh and anew. Take my lips and speak through them; take our minds and think through them; take our hearts and set them on fire. We ask it in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Two thoughts for today - both related to the nature of grace, to the nature of God's love and what it demands of us.
I would like to do that with two stories. The first story is an old one that some of you may have heard before.
Two well dressed Jewish fathers came to their rabbi. "Rabbi, I do not understand my son," said the first father. "I spent $35,000 on his bar mitzvah. I sent him to the finest Hebrew school. Just last week he tells me he is a Christian."
"Funny you should ask," said the second father. "I am here for the same reason. Rabbi what can you tell us?"
"Funny you should ask," said the Rabbi. "I, a Rabbi, and my own son came to me and said he became a Christian."
"What did you do?" asked the two men.
"I talked to God," said the Rabbi.
"And, what did God say?"
God, he said to me, "Funny you should ask!"
When Paul wrote to the Galatians he wrote to a community facing the reverse problem to that of this old joke, he wrote to a community where people who had discovered the good news of Jesus Christ were being taught by some that to be a true follower of Christ they had to become Jewish first, that they had to be circumcised and initiated at the synagogue and then observe the Law of the Old Testament - those things pertaining to Feast Days and Diet and Ritual Cleanliness and so on and so forth.
In short they were being taught that the grace and love of Jesus Christ was not enough; that to be a follower of Christ, to be fully acceptable to God, they had to do something special, that they had to earn their way, that they had to follow rules and regulations to prove themselves worthy of God.
This is not the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Gospel that says, as it does in today's scripture reading, that a person is not justified by observing the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ.
None of us, my brothers and sisters-in-Christ needs to earn our way. None of us has to follow the traditions and rules of others to be loved and accepted by God.
That is the first lesson of our scripture reading today, and the second I want to make is like it.
Again - a story to begin with. A woman, a mother, tells the story, about her young son and herself. She says:
My little boy came into the kitchen one evening while I was fixing supper and he handed me a piece of paper he'd been writing on. After wiping my hands on my apron, I read it, and this is what he wrote:
For making my own bed this week, $15.
For going to the supermarket, $25.
For playing with baby brother while you went shopping, $30
For taking out the trash, $5.
For getting a good report card, $200.
Have any of you ever been there with your children? Having them come to you and charge you for doing chores and looking after themselves???
The woman continues her tale by saying:
I looked at my son, standing there expectantly, and a thousand memories flashed through my mind. So, I picked up the paper he had given me, and turning it over, this is what I wrote:
For the nine months I carried you, growing inside me. No Charge.
For the nights I sat up with you, nursing you, prayed for you. No Charge.
For the time and the tears, and the cost through the years. No Charge
For the nights filled with dread, and the worries ahead. No Charge.
For advice and the knowledge, and the cost of your schooling. No Charge.
For the toys, food and clothes, and for wiping your nose. No Charge.
When you add it all up, the full cost of my love my Son. No Charge.
That is what is God's love is all about. There is no charge. Just a lot of hope - God hoping for us - God praying for us - God feeding us, God watching over us.
The mother who related the story I just told concludes the story by saying
When my son finished reading, he had great big tears in his eyes. He looked up at me and he said, "Mommy, I sure do love you." Then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote on his bill: PAID IN FULL.
My brothers and sisters-in-Christ, God owes us nothing for what we do for him, nor do we owe him - for he has written NO CHARGE upon our bill, he has written it in the sign of the cross.
Never, my brothers and sisters-in-Christ demand of others that they earn your love. And never let them demand of you that you earn their love.
Rather - love as you are loved by God, unconditionally - as a gift - without ties or conditions, with only the hope that those whom you love might in turn love others in the same way.
Let us go and let God be operative in you - day by day. Amen!
Two thoughts for today - both related to the nature of grace, to the nature of God's love and what it demands of us.
I would like to do that with two stories. The first story is an old one that some of you may have heard before.
Two well dressed Jewish fathers came to their rabbi. "Rabbi, I do not understand my son," said the first father. "I spent $35,000 on his bar mitzvah. I sent him to the finest Hebrew school. Just last week he tells me he is a Christian."
"Funny you should ask," said the second father. "I am here for the same reason. Rabbi what can you tell us?"
"Funny you should ask," said the Rabbi. "I, a Rabbi, and my own son came to me and said he became a Christian."
"What did you do?" asked the two men.
"I talked to God," said the Rabbi.
"And, what did God say?"
God, he said to me, "Funny you should ask!"
When Paul wrote to the Galatians he wrote to a community facing the reverse problem to that of this old joke, he wrote to a community where people who had discovered the good news of Jesus Christ were being taught by some that to be a true follower of Christ they had to become Jewish first, that they had to be circumcised and initiated at the synagogue and then observe the Law of the Old Testament - those things pertaining to Feast Days and Diet and Ritual Cleanliness and so on and so forth.
In short they were being taught that the grace and love of Jesus Christ was not enough; that to be a follower of Christ, to be fully acceptable to God, they had to do something special, that they had to earn their way, that they had to follow rules and regulations to prove themselves worthy of God.
This is not the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Gospel that says, as it does in today's scripture reading, that a person is not justified by observing the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ.
None of us, my brothers and sisters-in-Christ needs to earn our way. None of us has to follow the traditions and rules of others to be loved and accepted by God.
That is the first lesson of our scripture reading today, and the second I want to make is like it.
Again - a story to begin with. A woman, a mother, tells the story, about her young son and herself. She says:
My little boy came into the kitchen one evening while I was fixing supper and he handed me a piece of paper he'd been writing on. After wiping my hands on my apron, I read it, and this is what he wrote:
For making my own bed this week, $15.
For going to the supermarket, $25.
For playing with baby brother while you went shopping, $30
For taking out the trash, $5.
For getting a good report card, $200.
Have any of you ever been there with your children? Having them come to you and charge you for doing chores and looking after themselves???
The woman continues her tale by saying:
I looked at my son, standing there expectantly, and a thousand memories flashed through my mind. So, I picked up the paper he had given me, and turning it over, this is what I wrote:
For the nine months I carried you, growing inside me. No Charge.
For the nights I sat up with you, nursing you, prayed for you. No Charge.
For the time and the tears, and the cost through the years. No Charge
For the nights filled with dread, and the worries ahead. No Charge.
For advice and the knowledge, and the cost of your schooling. No Charge.
For the toys, food and clothes, and for wiping your nose. No Charge.
When you add it all up, the full cost of my love my Son. No Charge.
That is what is God's love is all about. There is no charge. Just a lot of hope - God hoping for us - God praying for us - God feeding us, God watching over us.
The mother who related the story I just told concludes the story by saying
When my son finished reading, he had great big tears in his eyes. He looked up at me and he said, "Mommy, I sure do love you." Then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote on his bill: PAID IN FULL.
My brothers and sisters-in-Christ, God owes us nothing for what we do for him, nor do we owe him - for he has written NO CHARGE upon our bill, he has written it in the sign of the cross.
Never, my brothers and sisters-in-Christ demand of others that they earn your love. And never let them demand of you that you earn their love.
Rather - love as you are loved by God, unconditionally - as a gift - without ties or conditions, with only the hope that those whom you love might in turn love others in the same way.
Let us go and let God be operative in you - day by day. Amen!
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