Rod and Real

 

Rod and Real

 

23 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

 

² He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

 

³ He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

 

⁴ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

 

⁵ Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

 

⁶ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

 

 

On Saturday, May 10, my brothers and I held a simple “graveside” service at the Bredinsburg Cemetery, on a rural road between Oil City and Franklin. We laid to rest the ashes of our father, Robert C. Sterling, and our mother, Shirley J. Sterling. Dad passed almost eight years ago, while Mom just died around this past Thanksgiving. Both had chosen to be cremated and have their ashes buried together at the “family plot” in Bredinsburg. Dad’s ashes resided in the closet in their apartment until Mom passed, and then I, as the eldest son and the one who had been taking care of Mom’s affairs, took possession of both sets of remains. I’m not a craftsman, but using a few new tools acquired, I built a simple, white oak box in which to seal their ashes. I ordered two small plaques with their names and dates on them and affixed them to the top side of the box, and mirrored this simple information on a small, granite headstone, which shall mark their burial spot, just beside the graves of my paternal grandparents. 

 

I share this story not only because it is so fresh on my mind, but because of that mystical metaphor that resonates in today’s text, the 23^rd Psalm—“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” This weekend’s activities in Bredinsburg is a period at the end of an elegant sentence written by these two people that meant so much to me, and whose final remains resided just below one of my home study bookshelves until buried on Saturday. There is somehow now a true finality to their lives on earth, and the crude little box across the room is no longer there to bring to mind so many colorful stories. But there is another reason.

 

Good parents are shepherds to us. Like the good shepherd described in this text, good parents feed us, clothe us, teach us, protect us, and lead us until we are able to lead ourselves to the quenching, soothing still waters of life. They do so not for what THEY get from the exchange, but simply because they love us and want the best for us. My parents sacrificed much for their three sons to “have” and to succeed in life. My father was a bookkeeper who had to keep looking for new jobs as a couple of the companies he worked for in Oil City were bought out and moved their management to larger cities, and since he wanted to keep his family in familiar, safe confines, he turned down transfers to Houston and later, Chicago. My mother was a registered nurse who worked the 11 to 7 shift for most of my younger years. This allowed her to help us with our homework each night, tuck us in, and head off to work. She was home in the morning to pack our lunches and send us off to school, after which she would put the rudiments for the evening’s dinner together and then catch a few hours of sleep, awakening in time to welcome us home from school, and to feed her brood. Having frequent desserts of Jello with some kind of canned fruit floating in it was little suffering for us, compared with all that our parental “good shepherds” did for us. 

 

I realize that not all parents fare so well in what, I’m sure, starts out with similar goals. Divorces happen; addictions such as alcoholism can happen; but probably worst of all is when parents parent the way THEY were parented, when that wasn’t all that great. Baring something that breaks this cycle, it is often all they may know, but it sure can do a number on offspring. Think of it: no one gets into parenting with experience! We’re all “first timers” the first time, and unless we intentionally take some kind of “formal” training, we will tend to parent the way WE were parented. Dara and I entered our marriage with the “parenting angst” of our generation, and with a general lack of paternal/maternal “instincts” kicking in. We intentionally waited five years before starting our family, first of all, to deliberate over whether we SHOULD have children, and then, to take advantage of a series of “parenting” classes regularly offered by our home church. [I might add that next weekend—May 18, specifically—I have been asked to offer the eulogy for our home pastor’s wife, Joan Sturtz. Lloyd and Joan Sturtz were a great influence on the Sterlings, not because they were perfect parents, as they made as many mistakes as the rest of us, but because they knew and “preached” that parenting should be an educated art, not muddled through aimlessly. Lloyd and Joan were the ones who brought all kinds of film series, special speakers, and classes on the aspects of “Christian” parenting to our church. Dara and I didn’t miss a one, so when our two children were born, we felt at least we had some “book learning” so our own parental shepherding would be more about the “real” than the rod, as we might say. AND we weren’t perfect parents, by any stretch, but all of that learning DID help immensely, and between the parenting and the prayers, we are most VERY proud of how our two children “turned out.”

 

I am sorry if your own experience of BEING parenting wasn’t something you have good memories of. Or if your own experiences of BEING a parent have their difficult memories, as well. I’ve always said, all we can do is our best at the time, and the rest we must let our children do after they “leave the nest.” Even the best shepherd can’t keep all of the sheep from getting lost. Parenting is never a pursuit for the weak of heart, or for those who fear too readily or deeply. The 23^rd Psalm is meant to be a healing Psalm, a “re-orienting” Psalm, so if that is what you need, please drink it in like a mantra. Saying parts of it over and over may indeed be therapeutic. 

 

We have projected and read the 23^rd Psalm from the King James Version of the Bible because this is how most of us were introduced to it. Another version I found interesting was the Complete Jewish Bible:

 

Adonai is my shepherd; I lack nothing.
² He has me lie down in grassy pastures,
he leads me by quiet water,
³ he restores my inner person.
He guides me in right paths
for the sake of his own name.
⁴ Even if I pass through death-dark ravines,
I will fear no disaster; for you are with me;
your rod and staff reassure me.

⁵ You prepare a table for me,
even as my enemies watch;
you anoint my head with oil
from an overflowing cup.

⁶ Goodness and grace will pursue me
every day of my life;
and I will live in the house of Adonai
for years and years to come.

 

The Jewish version uses a good “Methodist” word in the last verse—GRACE! I also like the “restores my inner person” part, which should assure us that, even if our parental “shepherds” put a few kinks in our “inner person,” God, the GOOD Shepherd, can help us be restored! 

 

Last week, I mentioned in my sermon the seminar we attended on “Fishing Differently” at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. I suppose it was the “fishers of people” thing that caused me to “tongue in cheek” the title of this week’s sermon, “Rod and Real.” In fact, the shepherd’s “rod” was a tool for both defending and nudging, not fishing. It was a sort of extended “Billy Club” that could be used by the shepherd to whap another animal threatening the sheep, such as a coyote or more probably a wolf. Of course, a good “whap” with the rod could also discourage a thief who might try to steal a sheep, too! But I like the “nudging” role of the rod, as being one of God’s sheep who likes to stray from the worn path, I need a good “nudge,” from time to time. Sometimes a hard nudge. Or, if I get too comfortable in one “spot” in my life, I trust my Good Shepherd will nudge me to “move along.” If I have seen what some call a “sin of omission” in my days as a pastor, it is this tendency to stay in a very comfortable place that WAY too many of God’s “sheep” fall prey to. Church folk will talk much more easily about what they are “comfortable” with than what is troubling them or about what God is calling them to do. Complacency may be the modern church’s most prevalent sin. We all need God’s good NUDGE, occasionally.

 

I also think we have taken that “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies” quite wrongly. I don’t think it’s about God “taunting” our enemies by setting up chow for us while they have to watch us eat. Instead, I believe the psalmist is saying that God invites BOTH parties to this smorgasbord. Like other animals, we are most vulnerable when we are eating, and it is almost impossible to share a meal with someone without having conversation. Possibly it is at this “table” that enemies become friends, and that this is the strategy of the Good Shepherd? Jesus certainly understood the value of sharing a meal together, didn’t he? He “ate in the house of sinners,” fed crowds miraculously, rather than sending them home to eat, and instituted what we call “The Last Supper,” which has become the church’s meal of Holy Communion. “Communion,” get it? And even after the resurrection, Jesus ate with the disciples along the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Meals and their related “communion” with others are a great place to “kiss and make up,” whether it be with spouses, pouting children, or even external “enemies.” “Thou preparest a table before me in the PRESENCE of my enemies”—not “in front” of them. They have a place at the table, friends! If we are to be peacemakers, then we have to belly-up to the “board” with our hungry adversaries, from time to time.

 

The ”real” part of my sermon title has to do with the REALITY of God’s program of shepherding God’s people. We can debate “biblical interpretation” and theology all day long, but isn’t it true that God becomes most REAL to us when we are need of protection, guidance, provision, and a comforting embrace? These are the things this great Psalm “gets.” This stuff is real, especially when you find yourself in one of those “darkest of valleys.” And if we tie its “shepherd and sheep” metaphor into the teachings of Jesus, we are reminded that the Good Shepherd knows the sheep and the sheep know him, and they KNOW each other’s voices. Even one “lost sheep” is not forgotten by the Good Shepherd, for it is found, protected, embraced, and nudged back into the fold. Did you notice the sheep (people) who are excluded from the services of the Good Shepherd? Neither did I, for no one—NO ONE—is excluded from God’s accepting and loving embrace. No sheep’s voice is not heard by the Good Shepherd, and no person is prohibited from hearing and recognizing the loving “voice” of the Shepherd. In New Testament parlance, NOTHING can separate us from the love of Christ. NOTHING! 

 

This is the reality we celebrate as the people of God, even if we “city folk” don’t have much experience with Shepherd models. Believe me, I don’t. In 1988, when Dara and I traveled with a group from Pittsburgh Theological Seminary to England and Scotland, I had my first real encounter with sheep on the mystical island of Iona. One afternoon there, as we were spending a few days with the Iona Community, I ventured into the sheep pasture behind the restored, ancient Abby, to take some photos of the Abby, juxtaposed with the wandering, grazing sheep. As I arrived at the fence keeping the sheep penned in, I came upon the “sheepgate,” which is a square of fence with a diagonally hinged gate. I pushed on the gate, and it swung into the “square,” I walked into the space, and then swung the gate back against the outer fence. I was now in the pasture. I remember thinking how stupid these sheep were, that they couldn’t figure out this simple and ancient “device” that kept them from wandering off. After I took a number of impressive photographs, which took a while, thanks to the generally uncooperative fluffy beasts, I returned to the sheepgate to exit. Oh-oh—when I tried to exit, I found the “simplicity” of the gate wasn’t so simple any more, and my OWN sheeply “simplicity” reared its stupid head. I literally couldn’t figure out how to swing the gate in such a way that I could get OUT of the pasture. Never did figure it out, actually. I had to climb over the fence. Who SAYS God didn’t pick a good metaphor when labeling us as “sheep in need of a shepherd”?

 

That’s all right, though, as staying in God’s “pasture” for all eternity is the final aim of this psalm—“And I will dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.” And God’s goodness and mercy will follow us “all the days of our lives.” Not a bad gig, really. Meanwhile, pay attention to those nudges…Amen.

 

 

Recalculating...

 

Recalculating

 

Acts 9:1-6, (7-20)

Paul's conversion, baptism, and preaching 

 

9:1 Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest

 

9:2 and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem.

 

9:3 Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him.

 

9:4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?"

 

9:5 He asked, "Who are you, Lord?" The reply came, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.

 

9:6 But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do."

 

9:7 The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one.

 

9:8 Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus.

 

9:9 For three days he was without sight and neither ate nor drank.

 

9:10 Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, "Ananias." He answered, "Here I am, Lord."

 

9:11 The Lord said to him, "Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying,

 

9:12 and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight."

 

9:13 But Ananias answered, "Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem,

 

9:14and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name."

 

9:15 But the Lord said to him, "Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel;

 

9:16 I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name."

 

9:17 So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit."

 

9:18 And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized,

 

9:19 and after taking some food, he regained his strength. For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus,

 

9:20 and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, "He is the Son of God."

 

 

I find it amazing the trouble some people will go to, to NEVER admit they were wrong. The mental, verbal, and occasionally even written gymnastics one must demonstrate to weasel out of an absolute mistake can be stupifying. However, when the faux pas is a bad or wrong choice performed intentionally, and even with gusto or passion, some folk will go to the mat time and time again to “prove” that their chosen move was correct, and the rest of the world was wrong. Psychology tells us that the more a person is skewed toward the “narcissistic” end of the continuum, the harder they will fight to show they weren’t wrong, and they often accuse others of the error. One of the funniest moments in the bizarre TV comedy “The Office” occurred when “Michael,” the office know-it-all manager, drove his car into a lake because he absolutely KNEW that his car’s GPS navigation system was always right, and should not be questioned. He and “Dwight” take an unexpected swim. Michael is an example of a benevolent narcissist, whose exploits make for good comedy, even he hurts people with his insistence on “being right” most of the time. We all know others in the world whose narcissistic tendencies are far more dangerous, don’t we?

 

I don’t think I’m a narcissist, at least I’ve never been diagnosed as one, and I HAVE done some therapy in my life, but I confess that this act of denying that I could be wrong has infected me more than I would like to admit. It usually happens when I have read something, or have one of those “mis-remembered” memories about something I experienced, and as I bring up the “fact” in conversation with friends, family, or parishioners, someone suggests I am wrong about it. In the case of the “mis-remembered” moments, it is usually my wife, who has a pretty darn-good memory. Her personality type (or Enneagram, if you know about those) is one that focuses on details and exactitude, while mine is that of a “storyteller,” for whom facts are a bit more fluid, when it benefits the story. Hence, when she “corrects” my facts, she is most often right, but frankly, the correction can ruin a perfectly good story. On the other hand, I find that my own powers of recall regarding something I have read is not always as foolproof as I think it is. I can’t tell you how many times I “Google” something I “recall” that I want to include in a sermon, only to find that my mind has warped some part of the account, and that my bit of research necessitates removing the element from consideration. The story I used in the first paragraph about “Michael” in “The Office” is a good example. In MY recollection of this story, it was “Dwight” who drove his car into the lake, but when I “Googled” it to check my facts, I had to stand corrected. Herein lies a difference: unlike a narcissist, I am more amenable to being corrected, and have developed my fact-checking skills to avoid reporting inaccurate stuff, even in a sermon, which by nature may include much speculation, and more than a little creativity.

 

It also seems that the smarter we are—or assert we are—the easier it is to fall prey to this “being right” syndrome. I’m guessing the world would be a much more peaceful place if a plurality of us would abandon this notion and be willing to “stand corrected,” rather than boasting, “Here I stand” so quickly. Modern politics has really schooled us in the folly of believing “our side” is so much more “right” than the other side, as it has become clear that the “sides” have switched back and forth as to which one is more “right” over the decades—at least as far positive outcomes have shown—and each “side” has had its share of error, from which we all suffered. As Christ-followers, perhaps this acquiescing to truth and humility could plant seeds of a better society. Someone has to listen to their “better angels” if we are to keep from killing each other, so why shouldn’t it be we people of faith? So, where am I going with this?

 

Today’s text is the story of the conversion of “Saul,” a Jewish religious leader who made it his “thing” to ferret out and destroy (often literally) followers of Jesus Christ, whom he saw as heretics to his faith. Paul envisioned his mission as being “so right” that he was willing to kill to further it. Just before this text, we read in the Book of Acts about Saul standing by and holding Stephen’s cloak as the man is stoned to death for his “blasphemy.” How anyone can feel they are so “right” that they feel vindicated by putting the other to death, I just don’t get? Especially in matters of religion? I suppose this could make me a pacifist, but I do understand people taking up arms to protect freedoms, gain justice, or to preserve the peace against fascistic or authoritarian foes, so maybe not. America was, after all, a nation born out of a revolutionary war, so if I am willing to remain a citizen, I must embrace this part of our national “DNA.” But Saul’s story was different. His objection to the budding “Christian” faith was that it diverged from his own belief, a “sin” punishable by death, in his mind. He watched Stephen being murdered. Some have suggested this gruesome scene may have “softened” Saul, preparing him for what would occur on the Damascus Road. Maybe, but as we have unfortunately seen in our own time and in the USA, ideological hatred of any kind can turn deadly very fast. Paul was on his way to “prosecute” more Christ-followers, and we have no evidence that his ire against them wouldn’t have escalated to encourage more “stonings.” In this case, though, God intervened.

 

Several times in his various epistles, Saul—who takes the name of “Paul,” sometime after his dramatic conversion—defends himself by citing his academic and religious pedigree, as well as his personal history. However, these are not used in an attempt to prove that he was “right,” as much as to dramatically set off his encounter with Jesus on the Damascus Road. The Saul that was on his way to further persecute the church founded by Jesus and the Holy Spirit, is radically turned around by the “bright light” that emanated from the resurrected Christ and temporarily blinded the Pharisee. His whole life needed to be “recalculated.” His understanding of what Yahweh wanted of him was updated, and his mission in life vectored in a new direction. Sounds prodigious? It is, but how many of us can tell our own stories of this happening to us? Indeed, the word we translate “repent” is a Greek word literally meaning, “stop, turn around, and go in the opposite direction.” One preacher I heard years ago said it means “turning one’s life GODWARD.” Recalculating, indeed! My whole life, career, and marriage had to be “recalculated” when God called me into the ministry, and I’ll bet MANY of you hearing or reading this sermon can tell your own Christian “conversion” or “call story,” and how it changed everything! 

 

Quite a number of my parishioners, down through the years, have lamented that they don’t have a “dramatic” conversion story like Paul. However, neither did John Wesley, the “father” of Methodism. He was raised in a good Christian home, taught the faith “religiously” by his mother, Susanna, and educated and ordained into the Anglican Church as a priest. It was years later, though, that while attending a Christian meeting at a private home on Aldersgate Street in London (after church one Sunday night), he “felt his heart strangely warmed,” and his ministry took on a radically new direction. He was already a committed Christian, but this experience was like a “light going on” for him, and his entire life started to “recalculate.” It was this “enlightenment” that led to what the world came to know as the Methodist movement in 18^th Century England. It transformed religious life in London and spread across the globe. I had a similar experience, in that I was also raised by godly parents, was active in my home church, and made many youthful commitments to faith in Christ. However, during a private “encounter” with God in my dorm room during my first year at college, I experienced the “light going on,” and my own journey toward what eventually became a call to ministry began. Likewise, I found this experience required “recalculating” my direction in life. Not everybody has an “Aldersgate” experience, either, nor a dramatic “conversion” like Paul. It doesn’t mean that God isn’t giving you direction, and certainly doesn’t mean that God won’t use your gifts! As another preacher once told me, God desires your AVAILABILITY even more than your ABILITY!

 

Speaking of recalculating, Dara and I recently attended a seminar co-sponsored by Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and the United Methodist Foundation on “Fishing Differently. The gist of the seminar was that, if the church is to reach a modern constituency and find a way to fund its ministry, it has to “recalculate” its mission. While evangelism and “offering them Christ” will always be part of what we do, the presenter, Dr. Sidney Williams, said his church has built a vital ministry by forming a separate non-profit organization to meet physical and emotional needs in its community. They offer free community meals, help meet housing and employment needs, offer support groups for those ill from addictions, and provide counseling services, among others. He described these ministries as focusing on Jesus’ humanity, while the “identity” ministries the church usually centers on are more about Jesus’ divinity. Dr. Williams called these human need ministries impact ministries, and said that there are a variety of funding sources and “investors” who will fund impact ministries. And it is these impact ministries that eventually open the door to our traditional ministries like evangelism, worship, and education. In the case of his AME church, the congregation raises enough dollars to fund its “traditional” ministries, while the impact ministries are funded at a $2.6 million dollar level by other foundations and community-based sources. Both “pots” provide funding to maintenance church buildings and properties. “Recalculating” in today’s church may be an even bigger deal than Paul’s dramatic Damascus Road conversion, at least if the church is to move forward.

 

The GPS/navigation system in one of our cars would say, “Recalculating,” every time we either ignored its suggested direction or made a “wrong” turn. Rather than get mad and just quit giving direction, it would “recalculate” and provide updated directions. God is like that, too! Don’t ever fear “missing” what God wants of your life. Yes, the Holy Spirit may call on YOU to do some “recalculating,” just like Saul/Paul, but God ALSO is willing to recalculate when we either change direction on our own, or are a little foggy in hearing God’s direction for our lives. Remember, God LOVES you. Love means never having say “I won’t recalculate!” And talk about recalculating, don’t you love the acquiescence demonstrated by good ol’ Ananias here? He was this Christ-follower, just minding his own business following Jesus, when God rocks his world by telling him to go find Saul to pray that his sight be restored. Ananias knows full-well who SAUL is, and what he’s been up to, so he initially registers a little protest to the Almighty, but God assures him that it is important that he do this. Ananias REALLY has to “recalculate” his thinking, put on his “courageous cap,” and boldly go right into the belly of the beast, as they say. I love how he starts his introduction to the world-class persecutor of Christians with “Brother Saul…” Brilliant! And while the text doesn’t specifically say, I believe it was Ananias who gets to BAPTIZE Paul into his “recalculated” faith. How cool is that? For all of us Gentile Christians, we should have a statue of Ananias around somewhere, as without his willingness to minister to Saul/Paul, we might still be lost in the weeds, apart from God, for Paul becomes the “Apostle to the Gentiles.” Reminds me of a story I read years ago in a “Guideposts” devotional about a middle-aged shoe store salesman who gets convicted of his nominal Christianity during a church revival meeting and in his “recalculation,” promises God he will witness to the first person coming into his store on Monday. That first person was a tall, athletic teenage boy looking for new sneakers, and witnessing to the young man was WAY out of the salesman’s comfort zone, but he sticks with his commitment, shares his faith witness, and invites the young man to church. That young man was Billy Graham. Most of us probably have at least one family member or friend whose faith was touched by Rev. Graham.

 

The moral of this sermon is: never be afraid to admit your faults (sins?) and “recalculate” your life, as the Good Lord leads. We never know how wonderful the outcome may be for us, if not for others, as well. Persons who resist capitulating to their “better angels” or who refuse to “recalculate” may, as the old expression says, “win the battle but lose the war.” Each of us is called to “go on to perfection,” in the words of Mr. Wesley, and the only way to do so is to keep asking God for fresh direction and “recalculate” when necessary! And from our “lesson” with Dr. Sidney Williams, maybe the modern church has its own “recalculation” in order? Now, let’s get to it! Amen.

 

 

 

Bookends

 

Bookends

 

Revelation 1:4-8

Jesus Christ, firstborn of the dead 

 

1:4 John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come and from the seven spirits who are before his throne,

 

1:5 and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood

 

1:6 and made us a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

 

1:7 Look! He is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all the tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. So it is to be. Amen.

 

1:8 "I am the Alpha and the Omega," says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.

 

 

From beginning to end…which living thing has the shortest life? Probably the Mayfly, which has an adult-stage life of less than 24 hours. Talk about your crowded day! How about among the elements? From what I found out on the infamous Internet, it appears to be Hydrogen-7, a radioactive isotope of Hydrogen. It’s half-life—the way we measure the “life” of elements—must be measured in “yottoseconds,” which is a second, times 10 to the minus 24^th power. How about you? How long will you be around? 

 

Any mention of “lifespan” typically conjures up all kinds thoughts about our mortality. I’ll bet even my question, “How long will YOU be around?” started the wheels a spinning! I confess that I am one of the lucky ones who has not ever lived on the edge of either hardship or depression that might have given me even a yottosecond’s thought about the “end of life” as something worth welcoming. For me, life is almost always a joy, but has, at its worst, only succumbed to being “manageable.” [I don’t want to go too far with this, as my time in ministry has taught me that not all persons have such a “happy” story, and I never, EVER want to give the impression that I believe that my journey is either “typical” or even an expected outcome of navigating what can be the complications of life. I also recognize that some personalities experience circumstances very differently than my type, AND neither have I ever had to deal with what we now know as post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. As the disclaimer in so many TV ads says, “Your experience may differ.”]

 

Still, thoughts about MY mortality can stop me in my tracks. I have also been blessed beyond any human measure by a loving partner in life who still charges my batteries, and maybe even more than when I first decided she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. I think about our wonderful and stimulating life together and when “lifespan” comes up, I wonder who will be the last one standing. We both joke about why WE would prefer to “go first,” and frankly, if we could plan our own exit, I think we would walk out the door hand in hand. But, of course, this kind of organization is WAY beyond our paygrade. My wife, Dara, is a far better organizer than I am, and I’m guessing my natural randomness and ill-timed episodes of being an irritant provokes her to at least think about sending me on ahead. Seriously, though, I love this life, I love her, my family, and all of the things that we do together—and separately—that add so much of the proverbial “spice to life.” (Now that I’m doing most of the cooking, I’ve come to truly understand this metaphor.) I’m really in no hurry for it to end, and harbor no extra excitement about “meeting my maker” earlier than later. Life is good, and even in what have been fleeting moments for me when it was not, I always believe something better is just over the “next hill.” And it has been. 

 

Again, I realize that not all of the readers (or hearers) of this sermon have shared my very upbeat experience in life, but since you are still here, you certainly must share a few anxious thoughts about your own mortality? None of us DOES know what our lifespan may be, unlike Hydrogen-7. I do recall, however, that my late brother-in-law, Win, who died at 61 of a glioblastoma multi-form tumor, had an interesting observation. Win was always trying to mine some positive aspect out of his terminal diagnosis (he was given 12 to 18 months to live, and he got 12), and one of the things he said was, “Unlike most of the rest of the world, I DO know about how long I will live, and can plan accordingly.” I never ceased to be amazed at Win’s power of thought and of the mind; his attitudes about many things were so formed and tempered by both his intellect (which was prodigious) and his faith (which was ever growing). We can all learn from how he made his final 12 months count. If you are struggling with making meaning out of life, what I want to say to you is that you have a wonderful set of “bookends” to keep things straight for you.

 

As a keeper of books through much of my life, I know how important bookends in one’s library are. Without bookends, books fall over, unless you jam so many of them onto a shelf that they hold each other up by their forced proximity. I don’t recommend this kind of order keeping, either for books or people. For books, bookends give you much flexibility, especially when you categorize your books into subjects like I have tended to do. And while the various communities with which we affiliate ourselves with may help keep US “upright,” just being jammed together with other people who may be having a better go of it than we are is not the best method of attaining one’s balance in life. Bookends help bring order to a library, but when it comes to life, this text reminds us that JESUS is our “bookends”—the “alpha and omega.”

 

Actual bookends fascinate me. Some are designed to BE bookends, so their creators played around with that image. I’ve seen some that had the head of a creature on one bookend and its tail-end on the other, things like dachshunds or “bookworms.” A couple sets I’ve had looked like old drawers with wrought-iron drawer pulls, while others, like a couple I have in my current church study, are carved from marble and resemble chess pieces. I’ve seen religious bookends and irreverent bookends, and often quite humorous ones that played on some theme of reading or knowledge. Of course, there are those common things we sometimes repurpose as bookends, like bricks or colorful stones we found while out hiking. And then there are the “techno” bookends people have come up with like coils of spring steel that you roll out and stand your books up on, then allowing them to retract and theoretically hold up the books? (They usually do not work for more than a very few books.) And let us not forget those little “institutional” book ends made of bent metal that slide under the last two or three books on each end of the shelf. These work great, but things can go quite awry when trying to extract a book that is actually sitting on the bookend. If you are a bookish person like most pastors, you know that managing books using ANY kind of bookends may temporarily cause you to “lose your religion,” as they say. A shelf that looks well managed and aesthetically pleasing when assembled may become like a drunken sailor when you extract a book or two from the collection! 

 

God knew that LIFE needed bookends, too. God also created us in such a way that we do NOT know the length of our days on this planet. Good bookends “work” regardless of how many books they are keeping upright. God’s “bookends” are actually quite perfect, as they are supplied by the Son of God himself, Jesus Christ. When Jesus says “I am the alpha and the omega,” he is telling us that he IS before we came to be and WILL BE after we are gone. Or, put better, he was there when we arrived on this planet, and will be there to “catch us” when it is our time to “shuffle off this mortal coil,” as the Bard put it. And in between, Jesus offers to keep us upright, balanced, and ready for service, just like a well-organized library! Good bookends are able to keep any kind of books stable on the shelf, regardless of how new or old they are, or if their covers and pages are tattered and torn or colorful and crisp. Jesus is the same way with people. 

 

Upbeat, giddy optimists like me still need Jesus to keep me from falling down and frittering away my valuable time, accomplishing too little with my gifts. Those who struggle or suffer need Jesus to help them find their balance and bring meaning to a life wherein they may feel more taxed than blessed. Regardless of the condition of the “books,” Christ will be at our beginning AND at our end, and will hold everything up in the middle, the more we learn to trust him and rely upon his Spirit and guidance. Every time I think about this “alpha and omega” promise of our Lord, I think of a modern hymn that brings me to tears EVERY single time we sing it. It’s called “I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry” by John Ylvisaker [Yul-va-sakker] and it reminds us, thusly:

 

I was there to hear your borning cry, 
I'll be there when you are old. 
I rejoiced the day you were baptized, 
To see your life unfold. 
I was there when you were but a child, 
With a faith to suit you well; 
In a blaze of light you wandered off 
To find where demons dwell. 

 

When you heard the wonder of the Word 
I was there to cheer you on; 
You were raised to praise the living God, 
To whom you now belong. If you find someone to share your time 
And you join your hearts as one, 
I'll be there to make your verses rhyme 
From dusk 'till rising sun. 

 

In the middle ages of your life, 
Not too old, no longer young, 
I'll be there to guide you through the night, 
Complete what I've begun. 
When the evening gently closes in, 
And you shut your weary eyes, 
I'll be there as I have always been 
With just one more surprise.

 

I was there to hear your borning cry, 
I'll be there when you are old. 
I rejoiced the day you were baptized, 
To see your life unfold.

 

I confess that when my two children were young and still at home, my love for them caused me to put myself in the place of “God” in this hymn, and the tears flowed, as I imagined them going through THEIR life’s journeys, wanting only the best for them. Now the tears flow as I think about how my wife and I have felt this kind of loving guidance from God together, and how the hymn so perfectly captures the “alpha and omega” promise of Jesus, to be the “bookends” of our days. And it is only because of the love of God the Father through Christ the Son that that moving final verse says, “When the evening gently closes in, and you shut your weary eyes, I’ll be there as I have always been with just one more surprise…” By being the “firstborn of the dead,” the writer of the Revelation is clueing us in on just what that “surprise” is! Life is wonderful, and then it gets better! That second “bookend” is nothing but a door onto the next “shelf!” Compared to the eternity Christ has opened to humanity, the joys and trials of this life are but a yottosecond! Amen!

Safe at Home?

 

Safe at Home?

 

John 20:1-18

Seeing the risen Christ 

 

20:1 Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb.

 

20:2 So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, "They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him."

 

20:3 Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb.

 

20:4 The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first.

 

20:5 He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in.

 

20:6 Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there,

 

20:7 and the cloth that had been on Jesus's head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.

 

20:8 Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed,

 

20:9 for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead.

 

20:10 Then the disciples returned to their homes.

 

20:11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb,

 

20:12 and she saw two angels in white sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet.

 

20:13 They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."

 

20:14 When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus.

 

20:15 Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?" Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."

 

20:16 Jesus said to her, "Mary!" She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher).

 

20:17 Jesus said to her, "Do not touch me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"

 

20:18 Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, "I have seen the Lord," and she told them that he had said these things to her.

 

Throughout my years in ministry, I have used my Easter sermon to pay tribute to women, their braveness, their theological astuteness, and their seeming intuitive ability to ferret out what is important, separating the “wheat from the chaff.” Yet again, I will ask you this question: would we BE here today in the Christian church, if it were not for the brave women who went to the tomb? 

 

Today’s passage from John highlights one of those women—Mary Magdalene—while the other gospels talk of “the women,” signifying that Mary may not have been alone. Since John is always honing in on the “God” side of Jesus, I think he singled out Mary so he could report on this important encounter she had with the risen Jesus. The gospels tell us that, while the disciples ran and hid after Jesus was crucified—they just went home and locked the doors—the women plotted as to how they could properly prepare Jesus’ body for entombment. They would not be deterred by a simple Roman guard, which the gospels say was stationed outside the place where Jesus’ body was placed. Remember that the gospels also tell us that Peter denied that he was with Jesus three times, the last being to a lowly servant girl. Unfortunately, the “bravery” lesson for these guys would not come for a while, although they all (save Judas) did eventually succumb to martyrdom. Initially, they hid themselves in their homes. Sure, they had reason to be afraid—the religious officials and the Roman authorities might come for them, next. But what of it? At what point do Christ-followers put the powerful lessons of faith and life Jesus taught us into play and shrug off the fears of any repercussion for living them out? We currently live in a time when a new government in our own country is threatening to grab, boost, and use its power and install policies designed to secure it for them, while hurting minorities, immigrants, the poor, and the proverbial “widows and orphans” Jesus loved and protected, as did the early church. Will Christians stand up for the “least of these”? Or will we hold to our own featherbedding by supporting these oppressive, self-enterprising forces, expecting their redistribution of wealth will “trickle down” to benefit us, personally? Will we stand up for ethnic minorities who will be hurt by these policies clearly meant to benefit wealthy, white Americans, or will we stay silent because we either harbor unspoken racism ourselves, or hope that we will be the beneficiaries of these policies? And what of the growing American “hatred” of immigrants, fueled mostly by misinformation and lies? The ancient Jewish people were COMMANDED by God, in what is known as the Code of Hospitality, to accept “foreigners” as citizens and afford them the same rights. “Welcoming the Stranger” was both a hallmark of what it meant then to be an Israeli, AND it just happens to be the title of my Doctor of Ministry dissertation, so I know of what I speak. Demonizing immigrants is not at all acceptable to Yahweh, and certainly not to God’s Son, Jesus Christ, who went out of his way to minister to and accept those marginalized by the prevailing majority of his time, even when it was to his own rejection or peril.

 

Back to the women…SO, while the disciples hid in their homes, here we have the women—symbolized in John’s text by Mary—going to the tomb out of love and respect for Jesus. John’s gospel tells us that they initially brought over a 100 pounds of spices to treat Jesus’ body for entombment, but here is Mary, three days after Jesus’ crucifixion, coming to the tomb again. Why? To grieve, possibly, but it is my belief that they BELIEVED what they heard Jesus saying, and they had hope that his death was NOT the end of the Jesus journey! If nothing else, their curiosity trumped the kind of fear that sent the disciples to their homes, hiding. 

 

The text tells us Mary saw the stone rolled away, and went to tell the hiding disciples, but since her message to them was that someone had “taken the Lord’s body away,” she must have at least peeked inside. Who but the bravest of brave would do this, having seen the great stone rolled away? Frankly, it’s a little surprising that the fraidy-cat disciples, Peter and John, decide to run to the tomb, but again, maybe they were “convicted” by Mary’s bravery, so off to the tomb they go. When they find the tomb empty, and see the cloths that had been wrapped around the body abandoned and the body gone, John says they “saw and believed,” but then WENT HOME! It is only the brave Mary who stays and ends up encountering the resurrected Christ. The men? Back home, chillin’ in the darkness, with the shades pulled.

 

Why I wonder if we would even be here in the church today if it weren’t for the women is this: God had made a tremendous sacrifice for us—“For God so loved the world that God gave the only Son, that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” Jesus himself had talked of the “temple” being torn down and that he would raise it again in three days, a metaphor that the gospel makes clear that Jesus was referring to his own body. The disciples should not have been clueless about what Jesus said was going to happen. And then it happens, and do they show up? No, they ran and hid. Had NO ONE shown up at the tomb on that third day, might God have just bagged the whole thing, figuring humanity really didn’t care? Might God have been so “rejected” by the faithlessness of Jesus’ closest friends that God would have left us to fight the debilitating, condemning power of human sin ON OUR OWN? The Bible doesn’t tell us this, but if I were God, I think I would feel this way! HOWEVER, someone DOES show up—Mary. I do wonder if her brave heart and less-fickle love of Jesus kept God in the game, one that saved us all? None of us came into this world without the bravery of a woman, and I am suggesting that due to the courage and diligence of the women, we get a second lease on life, as well. Prove me wrong?

 

I will preach this Easter sermon to a small, struggling church with a wonderful band of dedicated, courageous leaders who have persevered. The United Methodist disaffiliation really hurt this particular church, but these prevailing souls have kept things moving forward, and regularly engage in serious caring ministry to their community, so much so that the Annual Conference is partnering with them to appoint a full-time pastor, as I step down as interim, at the end of June. There are some incredible women leaders in this church, including our own “Mary.” I’m not discounting the male leaders we have, for they are strong and gifted, as well, but it is the women who keep the gears turning of ministries like our “NU2U” clothes ministry and the monthly free Community Dinner. Our regular support of the Mission Barn and its relief ministries is also led by a passionate woman who lives out her faith by helping others stay alive through crisis and disaster. 

 

I often wonder where the Christian church would be today without the impressive list of women who have provided leadership and sacrificial service to it down through the centuries? Three weeks ago, we lost a great one—the Rev. Joan Brown Campbell. Joan Campbell came to the Christian ministry later in life, but thanks to her own bravery, abilities, and tenacity, rose through the ranks of leadership, becoming the first ordained woman to lead the National Council of Churches. She later became the first woman to lead the department of religion at the Chautauqua Institution, which is where we got to meet this giant of faith, when our daughter, Shelah, worked with her as a Summer intern. Joan Brown Campbell hung out with Kings, Popes and Presidents. I used to tease my daughter that she got to call a great faith leader like Rev. Joan Brown Campbell, “Joanie.” 

 

Part of her obituary read:

 

She led a delegation to meet with Pope John Paul II, to present His Holiness with a copy of the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. She was part of the delegation led by President William Clinton to attend the funeral of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin of Israel. Along with her friend, Reverend Jesse Jackson, she traveled to Belgrade during the Balkan wars and negotiated the release of imprisoned American soldiers, working with the Serbian Orthodox Church. She and Carl Sagan, the renowned astronomer, helped cofound the National Religious Partnership for the Environment. She served as an election observer when Nelson Mandela was elected as the first black president of South Africa. She was the only woman in the procession of over 200 clergy at the enthronement of Desmond Tutu as the archbishop of the Anglican Church in South Africa. Towards the end of her tenure at the National Council of Churches, a young Cuban boy named Elian Gonzalez survived a shipwreck and ended up in the home of relatives in Miami. Working with the Clinton administration, the Cuban government, and the Cuban churches, she helped negotiate Elian’s safe return to his family in Cuba. Archbishop Tutu called Joan “a woman of courage and compassion. She helped put an end to the evil of apartheid. “

 

Woman like Mary Magdalene and Joan Brown Campbell are why we have so many women in ministry today, why our Annual Conference has now had two straight women as its Bishops, and our current District Superintendent is a gifted, courageous woman, as well! AND, as those of you at Faith Community UMC in Rochester know, your new full-time pastor is a gifted woman pastor—a scholar with a heart for community ministry, and like Joan Brown Campbell, came to ministry later in life, out of the library into the pulpit. Faith Community’s new best life will be led by a woman—how exciting!

 

The contributions of these women leaders are why we ALL are now “safe at home,” not hiding behind the curtains, but as the old hymn says, “LIKE A MIGHTY ARMY,” spreading God’s love, not bullets, around our communities and around the world. We are “safe at home” from the ravages of human “sin”—those negative behaviors and attitudes that put the “self” in the center, marginalizing others, if not exploiting them for personal gain. Since it’s baseball season, I’ll use a blatant baseball metaphor—going “home” is not about hiding or resting, it’s about “winning the game.” To be “safe at home” in the game means a team is one run closer to victory, but you often get quite dirty in the slide. Is this not the goal of the church? To have a “final victory” over the destructive things we do to each other and against the nature of God, won by love and sacrifice? Is this not what the glorious Easter event is all about? Those who thought they had silenced the “radical” message of Jesus by crucifying him had just planted seeds of his resurrection, and paved the way for the eternal life of the “love” message that will eventually and inevitably transform the world. In Christ, we are truly “safe at home,” but as Yogi Berra well said, “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.” 

 

For us all—and especially for the people of Faith Community United Methodist Church in Rochester, PA—may the best be yet to come. And may we all pay tribute to the brave women who showed up, and who continue to show up to remind the church that none of us is truly “safe at home” until we are ALL safe at home. Friends, Christ IS risen; he is risen indeed! Happy Easter!

Stoned

 

Stoned

 

Luke 19:28-40

Entrance into the final days 

 

19:28 After he had said this, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem.

 

19:29 When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples,

 

19:30 saying, "Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here.

 

19:31 If anyone asks you, 'Why are you untying it?' just say this, 'The Lord needs it.'"

 

19:32 So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them.

 

19:33 As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, "Why are you untying the colt?"

 

19:34 They said, "The Lord needs it."

 

19:35 Then they brought it to Jesus, and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it.

 

19:36 As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road.

 

19:37 Now as he was approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen,

 

19:38 saying, "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!"

 

19:39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, order your disciples to stop."

 

19:40 He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out."

 

I’ve been to this place on the Mount of Olives, where Jesus started his trek down the mountain, on the winding, cobblestone path, down through the cemetery into the Kidron Valley, and then up into the gate into the walled city of Jerusalem. This is where the “parade” occurred, and where Luke tells us the locals laid down their cloaks for Jesus to ride over, as he was upon a donkey. It is the Gospel of Matthew that says the crowd spread palm branches along with the cloaks, not Luke. Possibly both were employed? We have no eyewitnesses, other than the gospel writers. Matthew’s account has always cracked me up—he’s concerned that Jesus “fits” into the various Hebrew Bible prophecies that he either force-feeds the events to do so, or just turns the prophecies themselves into “alternative facts.” So much so that when Matthew reads in the Old Testament that the “king” (Messiah) will come into Jerusalem “riding on a colt, the foal of an ass,” the tax collector turned author thinks that these are two separate animals, not an appositional description of the same animal. Hence, Matthew says he rode BOTH animals, in a truly godly act rivaling Circ de Sole. 

 

On my only trip to the Holy Land, our guides walked us down this historic path in what was certainly a moving experience, realizing that Jesus had done this. We were walking, of course, although for a few shekels, one could rent a donkey from one of the local purveyors, and ride a few yards to mug for the cameras, but we walked. Part way down the mount, we detoured through the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus prayed his famous “resignation” prayer, alongside the olive trees. I had heard that the ones here today are the same ones that would have been there when Jesus experienced his catharsis, but the locals said that, no, the ROOTS would have been the same, but that new branches had been grafted onto them, and had now grown into the current fruit-bearing trees. In the Kidron Valley, we passed through the above-ground tombs of the cemetery, just before we started up the valley toward the city. Visitors to each tomb had left stones on the crypts to signify their visit, and it was sad to see many stones on one grave, while others were nearly barren. Our “religious” crowd (this was, after all, an Educational Opportunities tour, so most of us where either pastors or dedicated church folk) couldn’t bear to see the slight, so we each left stones on the previously bare crypts. Next, we saw some of the garbage heaps just outside the city gates of the Old City of Jerusalem. These two juxtaposed scenes of cemetery and earthly discards explain the biblical phrase about being “thrown outside where there is weeping and gnashing of teach.” The weeping was happening by the grieving visitors to the cemetery for the recently departed; the gnashing of teeth were courtesy of the “junkyard dogs” who were going through the trash for scraps of food. Most interesting.

 

And the massive gates into the Old City certainly explained how the arrival of Jesus and his band of followers felt like “kings,” as they entered the city “triumphally.” The gates are grand, and entering the protected city was an impressive experience, even for us educational pilgrims bearing cameras and backpacks, rather than palm branches and sacrificial cloaks. The locals smiled at our American band as we entered, mirroring the crowd that cheered Jesus on, back in the day of the gospel telling. They, because they had hoped that Jesus would now proclaim himself the warrior king who would banish the oppressive Roman government and restore Jerusalem to Jewish rule, and our modern townies because we carried American dollars along with our cameras, and were not being stingy with them. If they had something or a service to sell, they were doing so, and we were buying. Imagine their disappointment when, rather than lead a revolt, Jesus simply submitted to a “trial,” a beating, and succumbed to capital punishment. Imagine our disappointment when the olive wood camel purchased had “Made in China” stamped on the belly. Either way, the joy turned to mourning, and there was weeping and gnashing of teeth.

 

In our visit, the only real damper on the crowd were the Israeli guards marching around in abundant numbers, each carrying an Uzi submachine gun with extended barrels and stocks. But in Jesus’ day, the proverbial wet blanket was wielded by the Pharisees, who saw the adulation being heaped on Jesus by his follows as blasphemous. They “ordered” Jesus to tell them to stop. Jesus’ response was an interesting one: I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out. I think what Jesus was communicating was that THIS IS A BIG DEAL going on here! With a particular word of pungent profanity being left off, this is what then Vice President Joe Biden told President Barack Obama when he signed into law the Affordable Care Act, which has come to be called “Obamacare.” Biden recognized the magnitude of this affair that meant accessible healthcare to millions of uninsured Americans. And while it was just a beginning, current affairs in Washington are truly highlighting how BIG a deal it was, especially in light of it again being threatened with extinction.

 

Jesus and the unfolding affairs in Jerusalem were a BIG DEAL because God was introducing a whole new era in God’s relationship with the world. Forgiveness and redemption would now be an act of GRACE, or “God’s unmerited favor.” God was wrapping up God’s love for humanity and all of the creation in one great “Hail Mary” pass (interesting metaphor, isn’t it?) to redeem us all. God’s great YES to the world (a Karl Barth phrase) was about to be revealed, leaving humanity with a “get out of jail free” card that never expires. This WAS a BIG DEAL, and one worthy of creation’s praise!

 

I say creation’s praise, for Jesus told the Pharisees that if his followers stopped praising God for what was about to be gifted to them, the very CREATION—the rocks—would shout out. Now, while it may be a stretch to relate this next metaphor (camel “Made in China”?), it moved me, personally, so I’ll relate it. Many years ago, when I was tussling with God over a call to ministry, I made a trip to the fledgling 700 Club broadcasting ministry in Virginia Beach, Virginia, led by Pat Robertson, before he later lost his mind, ran for President, and became a right-wing loon. At that time in the early 1970s, Robertson was doing something new and innovative—preaching the gospel using a nightly TV interview show as the vehicle. Since I was working in media at that time in my life, I thought maybe God’s call was to media-related ministry, and what better place to visit than one of its most innovative and rapidly growing “mission fields.” After contacting the 700 Club people, I was invited to spend a week observing what they did, and touring their WYAH television facility (do you see the God reference here—WYAH for “Yahweh,” the Hebrew word for the Almighty?). They were most gracious to welcome me, and I spent several days with Ben Kinchlow and Henry Harrison, early on-air principals with Robertson, and Don Hawkinson, the nightly show’s producer. It was truly a wonderful experience, but one that ultimately sealed a NON-TV related calling into church ministry. That’s a story for another day; maybe I was already seeing the seeds of Robertson’s ego explosion?

 

Anyway, one of the technicians said something to me during my time there that impacted me deeply. He was just one of the behind-the-scenes engineers whose job it was to keep feeding the massive 2-inch wide video tape reels to two huge videotape machines (known in the industry a “quads,” due to the four video heads reading the tape, each machine costing many tens of thousands of dollars). These machines were essentially copying the 700 Club program onto tapes which were then sent out on what was called “the bicycle” to other TV stations to be played. This is how a program like the 700 Club was “syndicated” in the days before SATCOM and other geosynchronous satellites became available to send the program out “live” as it was being telecast. This technician, who was, like all Christian Broadcasting Network (CBN) employees in those early days, a committed Christian, had an interesting answer to my question about how he handled the tedium of changing the tape reels for 10 hours a day. He said that he just kept recalling today’s text from Luke about how, if the Christ followers didn’t keep praising God, the ROCKS would cry out. He explained to me that, as the church was beginning to hit its early “crisis” phase when more and more people were skipping church for other activities on Sundays, the rocks WERE beginning to cry out, as video tape is made from MAGNATITE, a rock that is simply crushed up and bonded to a plastic backing. SO, he said, “How can I get bored when I’m fulfilling a prophecy of Jesus?” Even today, as I recall his moving testimony (which really grabbed a science & technology geek like me), I realize that the myriad of ways the Word of God and the testimonies of faith and praise are being shared through the Internet, podcasts, and MP3 files, the rocks are STILL crying out, as all of these devices and pathways rely on SILICON to exist! In effect, some of the best ways the gospel is transmitted today is that it is STONED! After all, YOU are reading this sermon via bits of silicon “doing their thing,” and for those of you who may enjoy worship and praise via STREAMING, guess what? More rocks crying out!

 

I confess to being a bit “saddened” by occupying a pulpit instead of a TV studio over the 36-plus years of my ministry, but what “goes around…” as they say. COVID saw Pastor Karen Slusser and me, sitting in front of the Communion table in the chancel of St. Paul’s United Methodist Church, “interviewing” each other and leading worship over a little camera called a “Mevo” to hundreds of our folk over the Internet. I can’t imagine all of the “rocks” crying out to make that happen. I WAS back in a TV studio, and was praising God along with the stones! And even today, post-COVID, our humble little worship services at Faith Community UMC are being “streamed” over the silicon rocks to more people than inhabit the Jefferson Street sanctuary, on an average Sunday. Amazing. 

 

Friends, it’s time for us flesh-and-blood humans to take a lesson from the stones and start praising the Living God with our bodies, minds, and hearts! Who wants to be beat out by a few rocks? Let’s be what the author of I Peter called “living stones” for Christ Jesus, our Lord! HOSANNA! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!!! Amen.