Highland Presbyterian Church

A  Healing Journey         Mark 1:40-45                Ordinary 5, Year B


The past couple of weeks as we’ve been moving through the first chapter of Mark I’ve tried to emphasize the movement Jesus has made from one ministry event to another. Today, as we complete the chapter, I almost want to have a giant felt board up here in front of you with moveable pictures of Jesus and the disciples
and other characters from the chapter, to give you a visual sense of the movements of Jesus during this time. Jesus has gone from the Jordan River to the wilderness (which we will hear about during Lent) to the sea of Galilee, to the synagogue and Simon’s house in Capernaum, to a deserted place to pray and then
on to other towns and villages in the area. Jesus doesn’t locate in one place to do his ministry, he is out and about, trying to get his message to as many people as possible—not only the religious people but the regular people as well, and the outcasts, especially the outcasts. Jesus doesn’t discriminate when it
comes to preaching and teaching and healing, unless he is turned away by someone.  That this journey will
ultimately lead to Jerusalem and the cross is immaterial at this point; what is important now is that the message, the good news, is heard and known to as many people as possible.


The  motif of journey is classic in literature and film and often involves some sort of quest or purpose by the hero.  In Moby Dick, for example, Captain Ahab is in search of the whale and the course of the story is directed by his desire to find it and kill it. The different Star Trek series follow the starship Enterprise as its crews “seek out new life and new civilizations” and “boldly go where no one has gone before.” And of
course there is the classic story of a journey, the exodus of the Israelites out of Egypt and the search for the land promised them by God. The Bible itself  is full of “journey” stories—stories of flight and voyage and trek and travel and this prevalence seems to speak of something about the human condition, a searching and a
longing for something more that pulls people out of their everyday comfort zones and into adventure.


Jesus’ journey is somewhat different, I think, although some of the elements are still there. He is being led, or driven, by something larger than himself; he may or may not know what he is seeking, he doesn’t know what adventures or trials or troubles he’ll face along the way. I think the difference is that he isn’t questing for himself or for his own benefit, but for the benefit of others, ultimately for the benefit of the whole of humanity. 


Today’s stop on the journey is somewhere outside of Capernaum, as Jesus and the disciples continue to travel to the different towns and villages in the area. The location and time frame aren’t specified; it just says “a leper came to him begging him.”  What we do know is that lepers weren’t allowed into town because of their condition; in fact, one of the tragedies of leprosy was that lepers had to leave their families and
community and go live away from town. That this man approached Jesus so openly speaks both to his desperation and the reputation that Jesus was already building as a healer and a man of compassion. Part of Jesus’ journey seems to have been to find people like this who were hurting and suffering and help them,
regardless of where the encounter took place or who the person was. Jesus had already healed a demoniac and Simon’s mother in law and now he encounters this person afflicted with a disease that had turned his whole world upside down. 


You see, in the time of Jesus, when people were afflicted with leprosy, they had to change their whole way of living. Not only did they have to move away from town, as I said before, but they had to wear rags and call out “unclean” if ever they came near anyone who didn’t have the disease, in order that everyone would be
able to easily tell who the lepers were. Today, even though doctors still aren’t sure how the disease is transmitted, we know that leprosy is caused by a bacillus; but in those days no one had any idea what caused it or how to prevent it or treat it. They only knew that it was a terrible disease with terrible
consequences for many who suffered from it.


But even more than all that, there was the stigma of uncleanliness that clung to sufferers of this disease, a ritual uncleanliness that had little to do with hygiene and much to do with perceptions of purity. 
Purity or cleanliness was very important to the religion of that time because it was interpreted as a sign that a person was or wasn’t following the law correctly. And if a “clean” person touched or came into contact with an “unclean” person, the clean person became unclean as well and would have to separate themselves from society for as long as they were afflicted. So I think it’s safe to say that physically, emotionally, and spiritually this would have been a tough way to live.


So it is pretty significant that Jesus touched this man, this unclean person who approached him, begging for help. Jesus, who was born into that religious system and who would have known the rules, broke down this barrier as he broke down so many others that were in the way of the people of God finding their way to God
freely. Jesus didn’t  just say,you’re healed, as he undoubtedly could have; he didn’t ask for any confession of sin or require any special action on the part of this man, he just reached out and touched him, probably grasped his arm in the way you would if you were greeting a long lost friend. It is an especially appropriate gesture to this man’s situation as he had been cut off from any kind of human contact since the
beginning of his illness.  But then Jesus was good at meeting the people where they were, wasn’t he? When
confronted by the demoniac he commanded the evil spirit to come out of the man—which worked when a tender touch wouldn’t have. When he healed Simon’s mother in law he took her by the hand and lifted her up—and again it is the touch that healed her. But in healing this man struck with leprosy he not only
heals but he takes on the uncleanliness of the man and becomes the outcast himself. 



How many of us are willing to take this kind of risk in order to share the gospel with someone outside of our sanitized comfortable lives? We may also have problems and we may also face suffering, but for the most part we here in this room are white middle class Americans who really don’t know how it feels to be
the outcast, the unclean person, the leper. How many of us are willing to step outside of our ordered existence to take on the disorder that someone in need represents? But then, how many of us are Jesus Christ, who not only shared the gospel with others but was and is the gospel to the world? None of us is, and none of us really has the ability to touch someone’s life in exactly that way, right? But we do the best we can, we give to charities and ministry programs, we try to use our resources to do the most good for the most people… but what about going to the Welcome Table at New Providence on Tuesday night and just having a conversation with some of the least who show up there for a meal? Hearing their story? How about volunteering to lead a Bible study or an issues of faith class over at Maryville College for students, many of whom are far from their families and community; or for the faculty and staff? Or volunteering to mentor someone who is struggling to get their life back together after a drug or alcohol addiction? Or after they’ve lost their house to foreclosure? There are so many ways that people suffer, there are so many ways that we could help, no matter who we are. That is how we can take the example of Jesus and live into it, and
begin to embody the gospel as he taught his disciples to do.


We see from these healing stories, and we will continue to see in Mark, the way that Jesus went out to the people, went to places where there were people in need—of his healing, of his wisdom, of his teaching—risking becoming unclean, risking ridicule, risking personal safety. It is the example he wants us to
follow as we who follow him grow deeper into discipleship. It’s our way of living as modern-day disciples, bringing the ancient gospel to modern day people, outcast by their differences as the leper of our story was. As we believe, we must follow, we must imitate, we must be the gospel in the world today, for his sake and the world’s. Amen.

Transformative Witness             Mark 1:21-28       January 29, 2012

 
We don’t often, in the scriptures, see Jesus within the worshipping community, do we?  Most of the time we find Jesus out on the side of a mountain, or in the town square, speaking to the people where they worked and lived.  So it’s interesting to see him in this context—worshipping in the synagogue along with the scribes, and the Pharisees, and the ordinary people who came together in the community to hear the word of God. 
 
Worship in the time of Jesus looked like this: the people came together to pray and to hear a reading from the Torah, and hear that scripture reading interpreted. There was a synagogue administrator, but the position was administrative more than a teaching position and so the administrator didn’t read or interpret the scriptures but rather invited a qualified layman to teach the scripture—to give his interpretation of it—and this is how Jesus was able to speak in an unfamiliar synagogue.  
 
And so Jesus gets up and teaches them.  Now our passage doesn’t say what scripture passage Jesus reads or what his teaching says—but whatever it was it must have been something.  Mark’s gospel says “they were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the
scribes”.  The people who were there were astounded at whatever it was that Jesus had to say.
Astounded. 
Thunderstruck. 
Flabbergasted.
Amazed. 
Bowled over.
This was how the people who heard Jesus speak in the synagogue that day felt about what Jesus
had to say—they were astounded.  
 
How often do you come to church on Sunday morning expecting to be astounded by what goes on here?  I doubt those who were there to hear Jesus speak that day expected to hear anything different than what they had  always heard before.  Oh, each person who had the chance to speak would have rought his own interpretation to the mix—much in the same way that anyone who preaches here on Sunday morning
gives their own understanding of the Christian faith. But it’s very rare, I think, that we hear anything astounding when we go to church. I don’t think that it’s that we speakers are bad, or don’t have anything to say worth listening to—but I just think that we’re so used to hearing stories from the Bible—especially the
gospel stories—that we don’t expect to hear anything new—or say anything new, if we’re the speaker for the day.  And that’s ok.  The basic message that Christ brought is the same one we hear today—and that’s definitely worth sharing, even when we’ve heard it and said it over and over and over again.
 
Even though we’re familiar with the stories, and especially the stories of Jesus, even if we don’t expect to be “astounded” we still need to listen closely for what God is saying to us in each passage of scripture.  There’s a particular way of studying scripture that asks that question in this way: what words or
phrases stand out when you read a particular passage. For me, the first thing that jumps out is that the people were astounded by Jesus’teaching. Why were they astounded? Because he taught with authority. 
Then we might ask ourselves, what does it mean, “he taught them as one having authority”? Authority can have several meanings: it can mean power, or permission, or confidence, or expert or source. So let’s think through these and see if we can discern what “authority”Jesus was teaching with.  Did Jesus have authority because of what he was teaching? Maybe.  He would have been teaching from the Hebrew scriptures, the law, which he would have been very familiar with and possibly an expert in. But, it says his teaching was not like the scribes, who also taught from the Hebrew scriptures and were experts in the law. So if that were the case, his teaching wouldn’t have astounded the listeners. Did Jesus have authoritybecause he had permission to speak?  Well, anyone who was learned in the scriptural tradition could teach in the synagogue—as I said before, there wasn’t a specific person who taught in each synagogue.  And, even though he was in human form, he was also “God with us”, the manifestation of God on earth—so he probably didn’t need special permission from God to teach.  So we’re left with power and confidence—and these may be the keys to the authority that came through as he spoke.  He spoke with power and with confidence—power and confidence that could only come from him because he was the son of God, God in human form, God with us, and so he could speak with a conviction and a weight that an ordinary human just couldn’t muster.  Anyone could speak from their heart—but Jesus was speaking from the heart of God, which must have given his words an impact never seen before.
 
And I think this is what was so surprising to the people who were there that day, who heard Jesus
speaking from his heart, which was the heart of God.  I can only imagine what that must have been like—but I’ll bet it gave the interpretation of the message an intensity that they’d never heard before.  It was the confidence that he had in his message, and the fact that not only did he believe in what he was teaching,
he BELIEVED it—and he lived it.  If you remember, not too long before this happens, Jesus had presented himself before John at the Jordan River to be baptized. It was at that time that the Spirit of God flew in the form of a dove above Jesus’ head, and the voice of God claimed Jesus as Son.  Even if the people in the synagogue at Capernaum weren’t there for Jesus’ baptism, I have a feeling that word would have spread to there.  The people in the synagogue probably had heard this story, which might have added weight to his teaching there.  So Jesus spoke as someone who had the right and the knowledge to say what he was saying—unlike the scribes, whose teaching was probably pretty scholarly and intellectual. Jesus could speak that way because he was son of God, but also because he was a human being, he lived as they lived, he had been tempted as they were tempted.  He made no pretense of being studious or cultured; I imagine he spoke in the vernacular, the slang of the ordinary hearers of the word who were at the synagogue that day. 
  
Now I don’t want to be too hard on the scribes here.  The scribes in the time of Jesus, they were just doing their job, according to tradition, the best way they new how. Rather than just being people who copied the scriptures over and over, like we might imagine, they really were the learned people of the day, they were
the ones who studied the scriptures. Ordinary people didn’t have time to study the scriptures, they were too
busy making a living, and besides, there weren’t that many copies of the scriptures floating around. They
didn’t have books the way we do today. The scriptures, the Torah, were usually in huge scrolls were kept in the synagogue. Being a scribe was an important position in the society because they were there to read and maintain and interpret the scriptures. But again, I go back to the fact that Jesus had something in him that none of the scribes had—he had the heart of God, he had the true, pure knowledge of God’s intention for how the people were to live, right there within him.  No other human being-- not the scribes, nor the Pharisees, nor Billy Graham, nor Mother Theresa, nor the Pope (in my mind, anyway), nor you or I, nor anyone else, no matter how righteous they seem or how wonderful their teaching is—have that innate, intimate knowledge of the heart that God has for the people of God. That’s no failure on our part, we’re
human, there’s no way we can have the same kind or degree of understanding of God’s plan that Jesus had.  And that’s what made his teaching have that authority, that’s what made it so powerful. It was so powerful that even the demon, there in the body of an unfortunate man, recognized it.  
 
Right about now you might be thinking, “if no one can teach like Jesus, with the authority that he had, then what hope is there for us to be able to evangelize, to tell people the gospel and have them believe it?” 
Well, fortunately for us we have an authority at hand, even if it isn’t Jesus in the flesh. For us, the Bible is the authority that we look to for God’s truth—and especially, to me, the stories of Jesus, the gospels. 
The New Testament scriptures are the lens through which we look to come to know the God who came to us in the form of Jesus Christ; through that lens we can find the truth of God’s existence. Notice that I didn’t say “proof”; God’s existence can’t be proven, at least not by the standards that we modern and post modern people hold to today.  But we can find the truth of God’s existence—the truth we see when we examine the life that Christ lived, the death that he died, and the faith we have that he overcame death to live again.  Our authority in this is the whole Bible—through the way God covenanted with the people of God, the way God and the people interacted, the way God spoke through the prophets—and particularly in the life and teachings of Jesus Christ and his disciples.  We read that Jesus spoke with authority, and even though we weren’t there to hear him speak, we can feel the reality of the way his teaching transformed not only individual lives but also the way that ordinary people could understand God.  
  
In our Presbyterian understanding the authority of scriptures is one of the basic underpinnings of our faith.  We believe that through reading and studying the Bible we can come to a faint glimmer of the truth of
God’s love in our lives, the truth of God’s goodness in our lives, the truth of God’s presence in our lives. This is important because when we go out to evangelize others, to tell the story of what Jesus has been in our lives, we need to feel certain what it is we believe and why.  And this is where Bible
stories like this one are so important—so that we can point to Jesus and say, this man was God and this God was, for a short time, man. This God knows what it is to be human, this God knows what it is to make
a way in life. This God knows what it is to die a human death—a certainty that we all face at some time in our lives.  But this, this is news we can share—it’s good news that God has that kind of connection with
humanity.  The people of Jesus day could believe it because of the authority with which Jesus taught. 
And we today can believe it because of the authoritative witness of the scriptures, our window into the truth of God’s existence. As the song says, “If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray
like Paul, You can tell the love of Jesus, and say he died for all.” Each person has the charge from Jesus, the commission, to bring the stories to others. Our primary way of doing it is through our congregational
life, where we hear scriptures in worship together, where we have Bible study together.  Sharing the word of God with each other is a great way to begin to fulfill that commission. But when was the last time you discussed a Sunday sermon with someone in the congregation? When was the last time you did more than just listen to or read the words, but discussed them with someone else? When was the last time you told someone outside of our congregation about the sermon that week? Or what you talked about in the PW Bible Study? Or the men’s study? You see, God’s Word does have authority for us; but they also have authority for people outside of our congregation, even for those outside of our faith. But if we don’t share those words with someone else, how are those people going to hear? How will they have a chance to be astounded and amazed and transformed?
 
Jesus spoke “as one with authority” and so astounded his listeners (and presumably convinced at
least some of them to follow him.)  We too can speak with authority—the authority that is behind the
  scriptures—by using Bible stories to illustrate the story of how we found the truth of God’s existence in our lives—and convince others to look for the truth of God working in their lives as well. Amen.

Rethinking Our Lives       Jonah 3:1-10        Mark 1:14-30
 
A popular phrase among ministry planning teams is “think outside the box”.  This phrase comes from a puzzle that is sometimes given to people to evaluate how creatively they are able to think.  The puzzle is a series of dots on a page like this (hold up example), and the idea is that you are to put your pencil down on one dot and, without picking your pencil up off the paper, connect all the dots using only 4 straight lines. 
It looks impossible, and let me tell you, it isn’t any easier than you think it is.  The idea is that you 
have to “think outside the box” of dots in order to be able to solve the puzzle.  Go ahead and try to solve
this while I’m talking if you want to; I’ll show you the answer in a minute (for those of you who don’t know how to solve it.)  
 
Thinking outside the box is important when you have a sticky problem you want to solve. Sometimes there are challenging situations that people face in their everyday lives that require something more than a simple or obvious answer.  Or sometimes you try everything you can think of and the problem is still there. 
Or, you want to gain a new skill, something you’ve never done before.  But in order to do it, you have to change the way you think. You have to stretch your imagination to a point of seeing the same old
things in a new way.  You have to stretch the boundaries of your comfort zone to the point where you break down the old tired ways of doing things.  You almost literally have to have a “new mind”. 
  
God often asked his prophets to have a “new mind” about things.  Take Jonah, for instance.  God asked Jonah to go to Ninevah and call them to repentance. Now, to Jonah the Ninevites were the enemy. 
They were bad people and they didn’t, in Jonah’s eyes, deserve the chance to repent.  Jonah believed that
they were so bad that God should just punish them.  So Jonah decided he wouldn’t do what God asked him to do. And he got on a boat and went in the opposite direction from Ninevah. 
  
Well, you know what  happened.  A storm blew up. The boat was in danger.  And the people on the boat, including Jonah, knew what the problem was:  God was angry with Jonah.  So he was put over the side of the boat, into the sea, where he was promptly swallowed by the whale.  That would have been some nasty stuff, now, in the belly of the whale.  Eeewww to the power of 10.  Nasty stuff.  A pretty powerful way to persuade someone to do what you want them to do.  And Jonah, who in the long run was nobody’s fool, changed his mind.  Turned 180 degrees and went to Ninevah, and walked all through the town, for three days, calling the city to repentance.  And repent they did, much to Jonah’s annoyance.  But it happened because Jonah came to a new way of thinking—he had a new mind about his call from God. 
 
In the New Testament there’s a word for this change of mind, this thinking outside the box:  Metanoia. 
Metanoia literally means “new mind”, and is often used in reference to Jesus and his ministry.  It’s
usually translated as “repent”, as in our scripture for today: the message that Jesus brings to Galileeis to repent and believe.  
  
We tend to think of repent as to turn away from bad and toward good.   That we have to be sorry, to
apologize, to be penitent and remorseful. It’s our Calvinist heritage that says we’re all woeful sinners who are always doing bad things that we need to atone for. And to a certain extent, Calvin is right. People in general tend to be sinful.  Just look at the world around us—there’s a lot of bad stuff out there, and sometimes I think God must feel that we’ve made an awful mess of things.
 
But I think the concept of metanoia goes a little deeper than that.  Remember,  metanoia literally means “to have a new mind.” It implies a change of attitude, of heart, of mind no matter where you start from.   In other words, Jesus came saying that the time was fulfilled and the kingdom of Godwas at hand--- so
you’d better get your mind around it!  You’d better stop expecting things to be as they always have been,
because God is doing something new.  Jesus called to Andrew and Simon, James and John and said, stop what  you’re doing and follow me!  Talk about taking a new direction!  And their mind literally changes in that moment—no longer are they laborers, casting their nets for the fish of the sea. Now they are to be fishers of people—preaching the good news like Jesus did, calling for people to repent and believe that good news—the good news that in Jesus Christ the kingdom of God had arrived.  
 
When we encounter the risen Christ, we too are asked to make a change in direction, to have a new mind
about things.  Christ calls us to stop what we’re doing or how we’re living, or to drop our preconceived ideas about the other people we encounter in our lives and go in his direction instead of our own direction. Because I think that’s what it’s all about:  stopping in our tracks and giving up trying to find our own way through life, so that we can follow the direction that Christ wants to lead us in.  Metanoia isn’t just about being sorry, or saying we’ll try harder to be good.  I just don’t think it’s about being good or bad—rather it’s about following the way of Christ rather than our own desires. I mean, there are plenty of people in the world who are good people, who do good things; but Christ calls all of us—those who seem to be good as well as those who seem to be bad—to follow him.  It’s like the song by Rich Mullins that says, “ain’t  nobody so bad that the Lord can’t save them, ain’t nobody so good that  they don’t need God’s love”—any of us when we encounter Christ are called by him to change our direction and follow his Way. 
  
And it isn’t just when we first encounter Christ that we’re asked to change.  Sometimes I think if we’ve grown up in the church, or if we’ve been Christians for a long time, we get set in our ways, we think that there isn’t anything Christ can do to surprise us or that we don’t need to change the way we
think or what we do. I know I grew up in the Presbyterian church, and I always believed in the reality of Jesus  Christ as the son of God and as a human being who lived as we live and died a human death.  But my faith was in my head, mostly, and I didn’t really know what it means to be a follower of Christ, to get behind him and the ideals he represents , until one day I had an encounter with Christ.  And I must
say, it completely changed my direction, it completely changed my life.  I also think it’s possible to get
distracted by everyday life—and there’s a lot out there to claim our attention: jobs, family responsibilities, seemingly endless entertainment  possibilities—and forget what following Christ really means.  And I’ll tell you, it isn’t about us—or not just us.  Yes, being a Christian means that we live under grace, and that our sins are forgiven and our relationship with God is restored. But following Christ is also about what God is doing in the world to bring about his kingdom, and being a Christian involves responsibility and hard
work.  And sometimes we might lose focus on what we as Christians are to be doing in gratitude to God and Christ for grace.  This is when we need to call on Christ once again, to renew our commitment to him and to the way, and have a new mind once again.  
 
We may need to have a new mind about how we treat our co-workers, or our family members, or how we do our job or spend our money.  We may need to have a new mind about coming to church more regularly, or tithing consistently, or serving on session or as a Sunday school teacher. We may need to have a new mind about our evangelism programs or our mission projects, or about the way our church presents itself to the community around it.  It’s very important to listen for Jesus calling us to follow him, because he will tell us what we are to do, just like he told the disciples. “Follow me”, he told them, “and I will make you fish for people”.  “Follow me”, he tells us, “and I will make you build a habitat house, or add a Sunday evening worship service, or open a Christian school”.  Whatever Christ’s purpose for us in our lives, in this church, in this community, he will call us to follow him and he will tell us where we’re going. We just need to be open, to be ready, to be willing to change our minds, our hearts, our lives to go where he leads.   Christ called the fishermen, the tax collector, and many others and thus began their ministry together.  When Christ calls to us, our ministry begins. Amen.    

Come and See!        Year B    Epiphany 2   John1:43-51            
 
Today on the church calendar we see it is the second Sunday of Epiphany—a season we don’t celebrate too much as Protestants, but one that is part of our tradition, nonetheless. We Protestants, if we think about Epiphany at all, tend to limit it to one day, January 6, and we don’t think about it much more after that. Many times we even cram the story of the wise men into Christmas Eve as if everything that happened around the birth of Jesus happened all on the same night.  They have become a part of our nativity
displays and pageants because I think we don’t quite know what to do with these Wise Men, or Magi, whichever we call them; even the lectionary has moved on at this point and doesn’t say anything more about these elusive figures in the Christ story. We know that Herod tried to use them for his own purpose, but that they were made aware of his treachery and “left by another road” as the scripture says.

But whenever I read this story the question comes: what made these ancient people follow that star? What motivated them to seek something that they had only heard about in their prophecies and legends? And what is the significance for us that their prophecies and legends lead them to come into the presence of the Christ child, who in turn was the fulfillment of other prophecies and legends in a faith tradition that has been handed down, generation to generation, to us? I mean, they didn’t have angel chorusus heralding the good news of Jesus’ birth to them, all they had was a star, and I ask you, would you follow a star? Would you pick up and leave your home and family, just to bring presents to someone you’d only imagined would ever exist?
 
This is a question I always think of about this time of year. I’ve always been one to jump at the chance for a journey, the opportunity to travel for any reason. I enjoy seeing new places, seeing different scenery; and not only that, but it’s never been a big deal to me to pack up and move to another city, another state
even. You may have heard me talk about the way Jeff and Nick and Jenny and I have moved several times over the course of our life together; the first time was from Knoxville to Atlanta for Jeff to take a new job, coincidentally it was right around the time that I felt God calling me to ministry; and since there is a PCUSA seminary in Atlanta I took this to mean that the move was not only for the new job but also for me to attend that seminary. I was feeling called and felt that this move affirmed my sense of call, and so I was gung-ho for the move, even though it meant a new home, a new church, a new job. I was ready to go.

Only Jeff’s job didn’t last. And when I went to visit the seminary, it didn’t seem like a good fit, for me or for my family. The journey south didn’t pan out, the star I thought I was following wasn’t the right star at all. But still the call was there; while in Atlanta I had opportunities for ministry that I wouldn’t have had in Knoxville, opportunities to explore this sense of call that I was feeling.  A call that I’m not sure I would have believed without an encounter with Jesus. 
 
I’m not sure whether I’ve shared with you the story of my call. If I have, bear with me; if not, here it is. I grew up in the Presbyterian church, even before it was the PCUSA; I don’t remember my baptism but I know I was baptized at a very young age; I grew up going to Sunday school, mainly, and church sometimes (there were 4 of us kids and I think it was just too much for my mom and dad to keep us quiet during church).  I wasn’t particularly active as a teenager and I don’t remember much about going to church during high school and college, except for visiting the Assembly of God church with my best friend Lisa a few times and to a revival one time with my college friends. It wasn’t until Jeff and I were married and had our son Nick that we felt like we wanted our kids to grow up in the church, so we looked around for a
church and finally began attending West Emory not too far from here in west Knox county. While we were attending here Jenny was born, and I began evaluating my life up to that point—and in light of having this newly born baby daughter, well, things didn’t look too good. One night when I was feeling especially low I
decided to pray about it as we had been talking about in our Bible study; and I heard myself saying “how can I raise these kids to be the people they need to be, with all the things I’ve done?” and suddenly I felt this presence within me, it felt like a warmth embracing me, and I heard a voice say, “you are my child
and I love you and nothing will ever change that.”   It was a feeling of pure love, nothing like I’d ever felt or encountered before and along with it came such a feeling of joy that I thought I’d never stop smiling. Jesus knew me, and loved me anyway, and my world was never to be the same again.

In our gospel passage for today, Nathaniel also has a life-changing encounter with Jesus. Nathaniel was a scoffer, at least in this passage; the first chapter of John is one of only two places in which Nathaniel appears, and here is he introduced by Phillip who has accompanied Jesus to Galilee. Phillip, who is from the same hometown as Nathaniel, is excited about his new life with Jesus and describes Jesus as the Messiah, the one all of Israel has been waiting for. Nathaniel scoffs and says, “can anything good come out of Nazareth?” just as a UT football fan might say, “can anything good come out of Alabama?”  Philip doesn’t try to argue with him, he merely says “come and see.”

As Nathaniel approaches, Jesus greets him like this: “here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!”  What an odd thing to say, don’t you think? Especially as he’s never met Nathaniel, at least not in person, not face to face as we say. But Jesus knows Nathaniel, just as Jesus knows each one of us, in ways that we can’t even imagine. And it’s in  this realization that Jesus knows him that causes Nathaniel to pay attention, to open his heart and mind to the possibility that Jesus was actually the Messiah. Regardless of where he had come from. Regardless of whether he was what Nathaniel was expecting. Jesus knows Nathaniel, knows him to be a righteous man, knows him to be someone who will have or does have a special connection with God. 

Often our encounters with Jesus Christ aren’t what we expect. I never expected an encounter with Jesus like I had—I don’t know why, I just never expected it. Nor did I expect it to come with the expectations of me that it did—expectations that I go to seminary, that I become a minister of word and sacrament or
teaching elder or pastor or preacher or whatever you want to call it. The expectation that I serve God in any sort of way. And I’m sure I’m not the only one here who has had such an encounter. Perhaps during an illness, or a loss of some sort. Perhaps at a cross-roads in your life. Perhaps during military  service or on the job. I know there are stories out there. They are probably not like Nathaniel’s, or like mine, and that’s ok; we each have our own way of meeting Christ. And I’d love to hear them, and I’d love for the rest of the
congregation to hear them. You may have shared them before, I don’t know; but it’s good for us to share our stories over and over again. That’s the way our ancestors in the faith passed down that faith, by telling the stories. By talking about our encounters with Christ and how they changed us and how they changed our lives. So if you’d like to share your story with the congregation, let me know and we’ll find a time and a way for you to do so. It is something we all must to, to strengthen our own faith. To strengthen the faith of those who come alongside us and after us. 

I have never had such an experience again, even though I have longed for it. Just like we sometimes long to see a childhood friend, sometimes I long for that  feeling of love to wash over me again. It isn’t that I don’t feel Christ in my life, it isn’t that I don’t think he’s there; but the encounter I had was perhaps once in a lifetime, something that I needed then that I don’t need now.  Having felt the love I know it’s there, I know it will always be there. I pray that if you’ve ever encountered the living and loving Jesus Christ that you will
remember it and tell your story; and if you haven’t had such an encounter, I pray that you open your hearts and minds to the possibility. I pray that you too  will “come and see.” Amen.

The  Whole Story   Genesis 1:1-5        Mark 1:4-11   January 8, 2012

This past week I had the great pleasure to attend the College Conference at Montreat Conference Center just outside of Asheville, North Carolina. Now, if you haven’t been to Montreat before, you should go, even if you just drive over there to see what’s going on and don’t go to a conference. It sits in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains and even when it’s very cold, like it was this week, it’s also very beautiful. There is a campground there, which my family and I have camped at before; Montreat College is there, and the Presbyterian Historical society is there as well. It’s quiet, and calm, and is a great place to go on retreat—even if you don’t go to a conference. There are usually things going on that are open to the public and free; one time when we went there camping there was a Scottish drum band performing in Anderson Auditorium that we went to see—something you usually don’t get to do while camping!

I  happen to like the College conference in particular because I think it keeps me in touch with what the younger generation is thinking and feeling about life and faith; and judging by the 1000 + young adults in attendance faith and theology are things that this age group is very interested in—regardless of what we hear in the media about this age group being in it only for themselves, I found the opposite to be true: people this age are fairly idealistic and seem to be quite interested in making the world a better place. And this age group is carrying a lot of burdens about the world—as in, what is the world going to be like when
they“grow up” and will there be any chance for them to thrive and succeed and make their way in the world. This generation who are of the college age now is the first generation in our memory whose average income will not exceed that of their parents and whose average economic status will be lower than that of
their parents. Some of this has to do with the economic downturn that we’ve all lived through in the past several years, but some of it has to do with the fact that wages have been stagnant over the past 30 years while cost of living has risen. Of course, most of us only see that this age group has more “toys and tools” than our generations did—wide screen, high def TVs, I-phones and i-pads, laptops, kindles—all sorts of electronic gadgets and tools that we couldn’t have even imagined when we were their age. All of the trappings of modern life seem to reside with our younger generations—but are these really what make a
good life for any of us? Is electronic media and social networking and all of  these modern “conveniences” what God intended when God created the universe and called it good?

Our OT scripture today is very appropriate for the beginning of a new year and a great way to begin addressing this very question. We heard from the first 5 verses of Genesis the beginning of the beginning, so to speak; how the earth was a formless void covered by darkness. So what is the first thing God does? God makes Light and calls it Good. This is a good first clue about what God wants  for us and for the world—light. Now the lectionary only reads the first 5 verses of Genesis, which only takes us through day one, creation of day and night; but we know what happens, right?  Day two is sky; day three is land, or earth, and plants and vegetation of every kind ; day four is the sun, moon and stars; day 5 are birds and fish and other sea creatures; and day 6 are all other animals and of course humans. And on this day God gives everything to humans for their use and for them to care for. And on day seven God rested---
but God didn’t only rest, God blessed the seventh day and marked it as holy—set it aside as a special day of rest from the labors of life. 
 
We also know the rest of the story, don’t we? We know that God set the humans up in a garden that was perfect and good and would sustain them forever—but God also put two trees in the garden with fruit that they weren’t supposed to eat. And this is where the story goes awry because the next thing we know Eve and Adam have eaten from the tree of knowledge of good and evil and their eyes are opened and they are filled with the belief that they can be like God. The goodness of God’s creation is lost to them and to humanity forever. Down through the ages the good creation that God intended is corrupted and damaged and humans continue to believe they can be like God. It is a legacy that has passed from generation
to generation; and even with all of the wonders of our lifetime, sometimes it  seems that we are just getting deeper and deeper back into the darkness that once covered the earth.

But what we also know and believe is that this isn’t the end of the story. God created the universe, the earth and all that is in it, and called it good—and it is our faith that God won’t just give up on that creation. 
We see this throughout the Bible, anytime the people turned away—God called Noah to build an ark, then restored the world after the flood with those Noah had saved; God called Abraham and Sarah to a new life and a new covenant; God called Moses to rescue the Israelites from the Egyptians; God brought the
Jews back from exile in Babylon. All of these times and many more, even when the people turned away from God, God was always ready and willing to bring them back, to restore them to full relationship with God. 
 
The  ultimate example of this, of course, is found in Jesus Christ, Emmanuel, God with Us; for in the person of Jesus, God lived as a human, died on a cross, and overcame death to live again. Jesus lived a human life but was also fully divine, God in human form; and in Jesus Christ we are reconciled to God in a
unique way. The life of Christ serves as our example for living; and by taking on the punishment for crimes he was not guilty of Christ also took the rap, so to speak, for the sins of humanity that he was not accountable for—and because of this we are reconciled to God forever. 

This is our story too, not just the story of the big names of the Bible, not just the story of the Israelites. It is our story because of Jesus Christ, because of his legacy passed down by his disciples and followers and by Paul, and by early church ancestors like Augustine and Julian of Norwich and all of those faithful
who have come before us, down to ourselves and our children.  It is a story of light and darkness, of hope and despair, of good choices and bad ones, of enslavement and deliverance.  Because of Jesus Christ we have hope that light will not be overcome by the darkness that still exists in our world, a darkness that threatens our hope might lead to despair if not for the light of Christ that we believe in.  This is part of the story too, the good news portion of the story arc that began with God’s good creation and continued with the introduction of sin and evil into the  world.  I think we often think of God’s story as all happening before we came into the picture, that somehow God’s story ends at the end of the Bible and we’re to learn from it but we’re not actively involved in it, other than as receivers of the blessings that came with redemption; but I’m here to say that there is more to the story, there is a fourth chapter or movement to this story that we are involved with today that  might be called restoration. Now this isn’t my original thought, this is an
idea I heard described at the conference this week, but it makes some sense to me so I want to share it with you. If we think of redemption as the end of the story, if we think, ok, Jesus died for my sins and that’s the end of it, I would say you’re mistaken, you’re mistake because our part of the story goes on, our part of the story is to be active carriers of the gospel, active doers of the gospel, active be-ers of the gospel, living it out as we work to restore the goodness of God’s creation. That’s what we mean when we pray for God’s
kingdom to come, really, we are praying for the restoration of God’s good creation. 

Sometimes it doesn’t seem as if the world really cares about the goodness of God’s creation, and I’m not just talking about environmental concerns, although I think that’s a part of it; but sometimes today it seems to me that the way we treat each other in our human relationships, the value we place on tangibles
like money rather than the intangibles like lovingkindness, charity, mercy, forgiveness, compassion… well judging by that it seems that the world doesn’t care about such things; if you talk about those intangibles you might be called weak; if you speak out against oppression, especially economic oppression these
days, you’re called weak and unsuccessful; everything is measured in terms of monetary gain or loss, even the value of an education is based on how much money you’ll make when you get out of school and get a job—if there are any jobs to get, that is. 

But those are the very things that God wants for us; those are the very intangibles that God instilled in us in the good creation; this is the legacy we need to embrace and pass on to our children and our children’s children. It isn’t enough to be believers ourselves, to take our salvation and be satisfied with it. God calls us through Jesus Christ to be God’s agents for change in the world, bringing the light of Christ to all of the dark places, all of the places of violence, poverty, hunger, loneliness, anywhere there is suffering and sorrow. We must be the light of Christ ourselves even when we don’t feel like it, even when it’s hard, even when we think no one sees the light we’re shining. And we especially need to share the light with our younger generations because there is much darkness that they are facing in today’s world, so many burdens that they carry that we can’t even imagine. Yes, we’ve faced wars and being drafted; yes we’ve faced economic struggles, yes we’ve faced many things in our lives that have been hard. But we had something that many of them don’t have—we have a faith tradition, we have a church family that
supports us and enables us to face the difficulties. Many of today’s young people don’t have this, maybe by choice, maybe because their experience with the church has hurt them, maybe just because they don’t know any better. But it is up to us to share this good news with those around us, especially with the
younger generations. That means going where they are, getting to know them and their problems. We don’t have to become them, we don’t really even have to understand them, we just have to have compassion and love for them—and we have to tell them and show them every day. It is the ministry of presence we must have, in the same way we have it for each other, a ministry of being there, of not waiting for them to come looking for our compassion and love but taking it to them, to their turf, and probably even on their terms. 
 
A little while ago we had a remembrance of our baptisms and in a few minutes we’re going to ordain and install our new elders, class of 2014. Now today we read in the gospel of Mark about the Baptism of Jesus, which we commemorate every time we baptize someone; only we tend to think of our baptisms as a sign and seal of our adoption into the body of Christ, into the family of God. It has been suggested that when Jesus was baptized it was more than this, that it was his ordination to ministry, that in his baptism he was marked or set aside as holy, in a way that humans could understand. In this act he committed to a path that
would ultimately lead to not only the salvation of humanity but the restoration of God’s good creation as well—the enactment of the promises God has made over and over to humanity down through the ages. Today we not only remember our own baptisms and the promises we also have made in return, but we also celebrate the setting apart someone for special ministry, as we will be ordaining Jennifer,
and we celebrate and commission Jennifer, Corita and Kathy to serve not only this congregation but the whole of God’s church as well. We are reminded as this all takes place that we’re all servants doing God’s work, that we’re all ministers in the name of Christ in one way or another. It is we who must share our faith with others in word and in deed; it is us who must reach out to those who need the comfort and strength that faith can provide. As these women join our session we entrust them with the future of Highland as well as the future of our faith; and we pray that with God’s help we will be strengthened and the future generations will be strengthened as well, so that together we can tell the whole story, so that we can begin and continue the fourth movement of the story of our faith—the restoration of God’s kingdom, of God’s good creation. Amen.

Anticipation          Mark 1:1-8           December 4, 2011
 
Anticipation.  That’s what the Christmas season is all  about.  Even for children, waiting for Santa Claus—waiting is the name of the game. Waiting and trying so hard to be good just long enough that Santa will bring you that special toy or game that  you’ve always wanted.  The waiting is so hard to endure, you feel like you’re just going to explode.  Then suddenly it’s here—Christmas eve, then Christmas day.  The excitement is almost too much to bear. Baby Jesus appears in the manger.  Presents are opened, the floor is strewn with paper.  Christmas dinner is eaten.  And for another year, Christmas is over and done. 
  
Advent.  The word means, literally: arrival, start, beginning, coming on.  Dawn. For those of us who attend
Reformed worship services Advent is a season of the church year defined as the 4 Sundays before Christmas.  It’s a time of waiting, of anticipation.  But what are we waiting for?  
  
Secular Christmas, the Christmas of Santa and Frosty and Rudolph is much easier to define.  We’re waiting for presents, of course.  An exchange of gifts that we use to show each other how much they mean to us. I must say, I enjoy trying to think of gifts that I know will have special meaning for the person I’m giving it to.  I remember the first year I had a job at Christmas time.  I think I was a junior in high school.  I was so excited that year, because I could shop for gifts myself with my own money, and I could really pick out  things I thought my family would like.  Shopping was so much fun, and it felt good to spend my own money on my family. 
 
Of course, other years have had similar good feelings:  when Jeff and I were first married, or when the kids were little.  Just seeing Christmas through the eyes of our little children helped renew my enjoyment and excitement of the Christmas season—even when I was working in retail and having to endure the crowds of
people trying to find the “perfect” gift.  Yes, it’s much easier to understand what we’re waiting for in the
material world—I mean, we’re all indoctrinated with it from the time we’re born,so who wouldn’t understand it? 
 
Advent, on the other hand, is much harder for most of us—even though it happens at the same time of
the year and has a similar purpose. For one thing, not every Christian church recognizes or follows the
church calendar. Christmas and Easter are observed, but Advent and Lent and the other seasons are largely ignored.  So many of us, even those of us in the Reformed tradition, think it’s all about the baby Jesus in the manger, and we don’t even realize that there’s more to it than that.  
  
I think if I were writing a book about the meaning of Advent, I might call it The
Purpose Driven Season--after Pastor Rick Warren’s best selling book.  Because if Advent is about anything, it’s about purpose.  Our purpose in keeping the faith, defined by questions like, Why do we believe in Christ? Who do we say that he is? What does it mean to be a Christian in the world today?  And following those, why do we come to church?  What does it mean to be a part of this worshipping community, right here, right now, in this place.  Is it a baby we’re waiting for, or is it something else?  Just what is it we’re waiting for, what is it that is arriving, starting, dawning, coming on?
 
Well, my friends, the  beginning of the answer to these questions is found in our scriptures for today.  The passage from Mark introduces John the Baptist, as Jesus the Messiah’s trail blazer, whose purpose is to prepare the way of the Lord—in other words, to create a sense of  anticipation for the coming of the Messiah. It isn’t a baby he’s talking about but the son of God that he wants people to be looking for. 
And in second Peter we hear the teachings of Peter himself about the day of Christ’s--- the Messiah’s-- return.  
 
What we must understand is that with the coming of the Messiah came also a new era in humanity’s relationship with God—a new era that has come to us, but isn’t fully accomplished yet.  Before Christ’s
coming the people of God lived under a covenant established before the time of the kings.  The covenant could be summed up like this:  God would be the protector of the people and would provide land and descendents to populate the land for as long as the people kept God as their only God, and lived
according to God’s standards of justice and kindness. But because the people of God kept turning away, God instituted a new covenant that was embodied by Jesus of Nazareth, whom we know as the Christ.  In this new covenant, not only are the original people of God—the Jews—invited to participate, but all people are invited, Jews and Gentiles alike.  This new covenant can be summed up like this: through our faith in Jesus Christ we receive the grace, or the forgiveness of God for our sins; and rather than receiving eternity as land and descendants, we receive it as never ending life with God. Also, with the return of Christ comes a never-ending time of the justice and compassion of God, a time when all people will live together in the justice and compassion of God’s rule on earth—a justice and compassion we see glimpses of in the life of Jesus Christ on earth.  That’s why we say it’s a new era that has come, but isn’t finished.  We see what can be, what is possible, in the life Jesus Christ lived here on earth—but we won’t see complete fulfillment of that new covenant until Christ returns again. So this is what we’re waiting for: the return of Jesus Christ, the completion of the new covenant, the era of justice and peace for all people.
 
But while we are waiting for this to happen, we have Advent every year to remind us of what we wait for and to remind us of the questions I mentioned before that we always  need to be asking ourselves. Why do
we believe in Christ?  Do we believe just because that’s what we’ve always been taught—or do we believe
because Christ is a real presence in our lives? And, what does it mean to our world today that we are Christians? Are we bringing the light of Christ to other folks in our community?  Does it matter to anyone besides ourselves that we’re here?  Are we bringing the kingdom of God to the world?  What is the purpose of each one of us in the world as a Christian, and what is our purpose as the church?  These are questions that we all need to be asking ourselves, and then we need to ask God to guide us in whatever new direction we need to be going. 
 
It’s especially important that we seek God’s guidance right now as the pastor search process continues. It is Highland’s own advent time, so to speak—the time when this church anticipates the future that comes with a new pastor. You all have already been doing some great work—some cleaning out and cleaning up, some assessing of needs, both spiritual and practical.  Nominations has a slate of elders to present for election next week, and they will bring a new flavor to the session and to church leadership. A men’s
Bible study will begin meeting in the new year, and we’re in the midst of a couple of new advent studies.  You await the result of the pastor search, but I hope that in the waiting you’re also praying for them, daily, and praying for the session as well. The stewardship campaign has begun, and I hope you will pray for the
church budget as well, and pray that people are guided by the Holy Spirit as they make decisions about how much of their money, time and talents to pledge toward the work and worship of this congregation. Prayer is an important aspect of any time of waiting, and important tool that we have to help us during these times, and we must be using it as often as possible. 
  
Advent is a time to wait and to watch—but it’s also a season of purpose. We need to evaluate what we’ve been doing as Christians and as the church, the body of Christ.  We need to look to God to show us what new things we’re to be doing to hasten the coming of the kingdom.  We need to  renew our commitment to God, Christ and Spirit, centering our lives on the  riune God who lives in each one of us. Amen.

You may already know this about me, but I am not a morning person.  Most days I would rather not have to
get out of bed before at least 8 am, and even then I’m not ready to communicate or be social until much later in the morning. I can do it, but I don’t like it, and Jeff will testify to that fact.  On the other hand, while I like to stay up late and enjoy the peace and quiet of  the middle of the night, I don’t like to stay up all night long, either. I am a girl who likes her sleep!  
 
There are exceptions  to this rule, however:  if I have  something special going on the next day, or somewhere important and unusual I need to be first thing in the morning, I will wake up early. 
Starting a new job, for example, has traditionally been a morning in which I wake early and pop up, ready to go.  I think that’s mostly because I’m nervous, and usually excited, and maybe a little afraid I’ll oversleep and be late!  Christmas morning is also a time when I’ve always been awake early. Even as a teenager, I couldn’t sleep in on Christmas morning. I mean, who can sleep in with cinnamon rolls and sausage balls to eat, and presents to open? But again, don’t ask me to stay up all night to see if Santa comes—it is just not going to happen.  
  
Keeping awake and being alert are the watchwords of our passage from Mark today. Now, today marks the beginning of our season of Advent—which I’m sure you remember consists of the 4 weeks leading up to Christmas. Most people have already been anticipating Christmas for weeks now—at least 2 weeks ago I heard Christmas carols playing in some stores that I was in—and now that Thanksgiving is over, we’re really on the downhill slide.  Yes, Christmas is coming—but don’t tell the lectionary that!  We lectionary
preachers always begin the season of Advent with some of the darkest texts in the new testament—texts that seem to spell doom and gloom, as the Mark passage does today.  
  
But there is a reason  for beginning here—to remind us that Advent isn’t just about Christmas and the
baby in the manger. It’s about taking the time, just a few minutes really, to consider where we are in the
grand scheme of things.  To consider the implications of Christmas that go beyond the birth and death of
Christ and look ahead to Christ’s return. To understand that the promises of God aren’t contained in the Jesus who lived 2000 years ago but are with us now and will be with us until his return.  
  
So to begin this process, let’s put this scene in context.  
  
The passage before us today is the second half of a long speech given by Jesus to his disciples.  The speech is set off by a comment by one of the disciples when the group was leaving the temple in Jerusalem one day—the last time, as it turns out, that they would leave the temple before Jesus’death on the cross.  The disciple takes notice of the large stones that the temple was made of—sort of implying that there was great strength in the temple, and Jesus responds by predicting the destruction of the
temple.  Naturally the disciples want to know when this will happen, and Jesus basically says, not yet—but don’t be deceived by signs that the end is near.
 
Now all of this has happened off stage for us, so to speak—it’s in the first half of the speech and
is found in the passage just before the one we read for today.  And it’s important for us hear it to provide us some context for the rest of the speech.  Jesus has predicted the fall of the temple—and this is a huge thing and is what ultimately leads to his arrest—because the fall of the temple implies the fall of Judaism, and the Jewish leadership doesn’t like this. This prediction ultimately gives the Jewish leadership the excuse they’ve been looking for to arrest Jesus. 
 
So Jesus has predicted that the Temple will fall—but that it isn’t a sign of the end times. The second half of the speech is basically an exhortation for the disciples to keep awake, to watch, because no one will know except God when the end will come. It is intended to offer hope to those who were left behind at the cross—hope that the son of Man will indeed return when the time comes.  And this is the hope that we draw on in our day as well--- hope that we call upon each week in the line from the Brief Statement of Faith:  “In gratitude to God, empowered by the Spirit, we strive to serve God in our daily tasks, even as we watch for a new heaven and a new earth, saying, ‘Come. Lord Jesus.’” –which, when you think about it, is our scripture for today in a nutshell.  
  
Now, we know that Jesus said these things to the disciples to encourage them during a time that he
knew would be difficult for them.  He knew that he was about to die and that his followers were facing
danger and persecution, not only from the Jewish leadership but also from the Roman occupiers. He knew that the ‘wars and rumors of wars’ and the suffering that his followers would undergo, coupled with the destruction of the temple, might make it seem as if the world  was indeed coming to an end, that the end of time was imminent.  Indeed, things would even get so bad that they might wish
for the promised end of time to come and relieve them from that suffering.  But we know, from our
vantage point of 2000 years later, that the end of time has not yet come.
 
And knowing that, what it is that we today can take away from this difficult passage in Mark?  How can we interpret this exhortation to “keep alert, for you know do not know when the time will come?”  And beyond that, how do we make this message relevant to a world that wants to skip over the quiet symbolism of Advent and go straight to the shiny, happy birthday of the baby Jesus?  
  
First of all, we need to wake up, people. And I don’t just mean “we” as in Highland Presbyterian
Church.  Many of us who call ourselves Christians, I believe—and maybe those of us who are in the so called mainline denominations—have become complacent as the dominant religious tradition in the world—complacent and asleep. We have fallen asleep and forgotten what it means to be ready for the son of Man to return. We have forgotten what it means to watch, to keep awake, to be
prepared.  We aren’t going out to share our faith with those outside of the church, we’re waiting for them to come to us.  We’re quibbling over styles of worship and weeping over changes to our treasured traditions when we should welcome the movement of the spirit that keeps us fresh, awake, renewed.  We’re asleep at the switch, assuming that people are going to come to Christ with little or no effort—or change-- on
our part.  What we need to be doing is whatever it takes to bring new folks to the faith, to bring our message to the dark, dark places that exist in our world—and if that means letting go of some of our sacred cows, then we need to be willing to let them go. Because let’s face it folks, it isn’t about us, really. 
It’s about God and the need that people have for God’s love, God’s peace, God’s grace—and it’s about those people, many of whom don’t even know they need what God has to offer.  We are already disciples, we are already aware of the grace of God, we already have the hope of God; but If we don’t do anything and everything we can to meet those people where they are—not where we are, where they are—then we are living as if asleep, as if we have accepted the promises but forgotten the commissions given to us by Christ:  to love God and neighbor and to make disciples through the mission of  teaching and preaching.  The promises are important but commissions are also important, because if we don’t  follow through and do what God calls us to do, then there are no new Christians and the faith dies here.
 
There is good news, though.  
  
There is good news for Christianity, I believe, and good news for this particular church, Highland, as
well.  The good news for us is that it isn’t the end of time—yet. We still have time to wake up, to get back on the job for Christ, to take up our responsibilities with renewed vigor and enthusiasm. Paul tells the church in Corinth that they have hope because the  testimony of Christ has been strengthened in them and therefore no spiritual gift is lacking in them.  That they  have the tools necessary to do the work that is theirs to do on account of Christ’s charge to his followers. We too are strengthened for the work by God’s grace and God’s love; like the church at Corinth, we were called together by God, we have been given gifts for ministry and we have been given each other for support and fellowship. The gifts and the support work together to make us unstoppable, if we will use them with focus and drive and imagination and love.  We
may have been feeling as if God had deserted us—or at least as if God got distracted from Highland's concerns for a minute; but the good news is that even when we feel that God isn’t paying attention to us or is absent from our lives, God is faithful.  Bruce Epperly of the Process and Faith website, says, “We are stronger than we believe; we have the spiritual gifts  in our personal and community lives that will enable us to live faithfully and lovingly even when we struggle to experience God’s presence.”  During our wait for God’s return—whether it is a renewed sense of God’s presence in our particular church, or Christ’s return which ushers in the new heaven and new earth—we have all that we need to keep us going, to keep us
sharing the good news, to keep us making new disciples and enlarging the body of Christ, to keep us being Christ in the world—all the while staying awake and alert and watching for what is to come.  
  
This season of Advent  is a difficult one for a lot of people. The economy is struggling, unemployment is up, businesses are failing, people are nervous. It may feel to a lot of people as if God has abandoned them; or if they don’t know God, the emptiness of their lives may be more pronounced because the props of prosperity and wealth have been swept away. Those who have placed their feelings of worth in their job or in how much money they make may be feeling empty and confused.  Many people may be dreading Christmas rather than anticipating it, because of their inability to buy gifts and throw parties and experience that “shiny happy” side of Christmas in the way that they’re used to. But you know what?  This is the perfect time for us to share another Way. This is the perfect time for us to seek out the ones who need something more, and show and tell them  the ways that life in Christ has made us feel whole. But we can only do this if we are awake and alert to what is going on around us. 
  
Let’s wake up, people.  Let’s wake up and stay  awake and alert so that we can be ready for Christ’s return. Let’s be awake and alert so that while we’re waiting we can be doing the work that God calls us to do. Let’s be awake and alert so that as Christmas approaches we can truly be ready for Christ appearance—and reappearance on earth. Amen.  
 


      

One  of my favorite tasks as a minister is to walk with a couple as they are preparing for marriage and then to perform the ceremony with them. It’s an exciting time for the couple and their families; and so far I’ve never had to  deal with a “bridezilla” or with a parent of the wedding couple who has run amok. The weddings I have been a part of have been true celebrations of the couple and their desire to share their lives together, to state publicly their love and devotion to each other and commit to a future spent together.  Some weddings, however, get to be so over-the-top that I’m not sure how they can be enjoyable for anyone involved; sometimes people become obsessed with having the “perfect”wedding—even though we
wedding veterans know that it’s the small quirky things that happen that make a wedding special. For example, when Jeff and I got married, we set our wedding cake on fire—well, at least the wedding cake topper caught fire—and we still remember that moment even though so many other parts of the day are long forgotten.  Weddings are special days whether full of gaffes or perfectly executed—and I think that is true in cultures around the world.

Jesus uses a wedding as a backdrop for his teaching in our scripture from Matthew—the story we know as the wise and foolish bridesmaids. Ten bridesmaids are waiting at the wedding venue for the bridegroom to arrive, and they have lamps in case it gets dark before he arrives. But only five of the bridesmaids have had the foresight to bring extra oil; and as it gets later and later the other five begin to run out—and they are in danger of their lamps going dark before the bridegroom arrives. They ask the five wise bridesmaids if they can borrow some oil, but the wise ones decline and so the foolish ones must leave the venue in
order to go buy some oil. While they are gone the bridegroom comes and takes the wise bridesmaids into the wedding hall; and when the foolish bridesmaids return and ask to be let in, they’re turned away. The moral of the story, the tagline, if you will, is this: keep awake, for you know neither the day nor the
hour.

Now we night get a little uneasy when we read this story because it seems to stray from the “love one another” theme that Jesus has got going on in his ministry, as well as the positive messages that he keeps giving about the kingdom of heaven—it’s big enough for everyone who wants in, it grows as more of the
faithful are added in. So we might find it disturbing that some of these bridesmaids are denied entry to the wedding banquet—because clearly this story is about the coming of the Messiah and how we are to be prepared for that to happen at any time. This story seems to be pretty clearly saying that if you’re
not prepared, if you don’t keep awake and alert you might miss out when the Messiah does return.

It helps to understand that the book of Matthew was written after Jesus had died and as the early church was pulling itself together. People firmly believed that Jesus Christ, who had died, risen and ascended to heaven almost before their eyes, was due to return again at any time. There must have been rampant
speculation among his followers as to when this would happen—much in the same way that this sort of thing is discussed and predicted and speculated about today. Just this year a man predicted the return of Christ in May—and when it didn’t happen then he claimed to have calculated incorrectly and changed the
time to October. Year in and year out it seems that we hear these kinds of predictions and I’m sure it wasn’t any different in those years after Jesus’s death. As more and more time passed without his return people began to get nervous and maybe to even lose faith little by little. This passage was probably included in Matthew in order to allay some of those fears, to encourage believers to hang in there, and to teach new believers that what to believe about the return of Christ. I’m not saying that Jesus didn’t actually tell this
story, of course; just that it was a good one to include in order to address some of these issues in the early church.

But if that was the message for the early church—we don’t know when Christ will return, but we need to keep following him so we’ll be ready when he does return—the message is the same for us today. And since it’s been even longer since his death for us than it was during the time of the early church, it’s
even more important that we take Jesus’s words to heart—we must keep awake and alert, we must make sure there’s enough oil in our lamps that we’re ready when Christ returns. But that leaves us with some questions, doesn’t it? Like everyone else we really want to know when that will happen, and like everyone
else we want to know what will happen to us if Christ doesn’t return in our lifetime? 

The first thing we need to know, I think, is that no one knows besides God when Christ will return. And no one really knows besides God what will happen when Christ returns. What we do believe is that, regardless of when Christ is scheduled to return, God is present and active in our lives every day in many different ways, active in the world in many different ways. Just think of the beauty that surrounds us everywhere, the
blazing fall colors, the pink cheeks of our little children and grandchildren. The phone call from a friend when we’re feeling the most down. God is all around us working in us and through us constantly to bring God’s love and grace to a world that is also broken and hurting. Our faithful response to this love and grace is to love and serve God as people of Christ. To feed the hungry, clothe the naked, pray for the sick and
suffering, comfort the oppressed. Work against evil and darkness towards a world that is just and loving and righteous. But we don’t do this because we’re afraid  of being left behind, as the popular book series has us believe, and we don’t do it because we think we can somehow earn our way into the kingdom once Christ  does return—or that we can in any way bring about the redemption, the salvation, of the world. We do believe that someday there will be a new heaven and a new earth; we hope for it, we yearn for it even as we know that all we can do is follow Jesus to the best of our ability in this broken world. We must anticipate it as fully as we anticipate Christmas morning, believing that it will ultimately be an event full of joy and grace and love. 
 
It can be overwhelming for us to look at everything that is wrong in this world—all of the violence and destruction, all of the harm that is done to the environment, all of the illness, both physical and emotional, all of the ways that we human beings are just rotten to each other all the time—and to believe that we have enough oil in our lamps to keep us going until the end of time. And yet that’s what we’re called to do. And it would be terrible if we didn’t believe that one day Christ will return, that someday there would be some end to all of this suffering.  It is our vision of this future that pulls us forward, as Donald McKim says in his book,
Presbyterian Questions, Presbyterian
Answers, our vision of this future that gives us hope for more than we have or see or know in this life. But in the meantime we must keep alert because if we don’t we might miss the ways that God enters our lives in the here and now, the ways that God transforms our lives every day. We must live our lives each day as children of God, working to be the people God calls us to be, the joyful people of God.  
 
A wedding is a joyful occasion. The return of Christ should be thought of in that way—not as a frightening event that we’re not sure we will be a part of, but a long desired event that will bring us our beloved Lord. 
A long desired event that will mean no more sorrow, no more suffering, no more pain, but will bring about instead a time of peace that will last throughout the ages. So keep awake—you won’t want to miss it!
Amen.

Tomorrow, as I’m sure you all know, is Halloween. When I was a kid Halloween was one of my favorite holidays, because even though you  didn’t get a day off from school, you got to dress up in a costume, pretend to  be someone else, and go around to neighbors and stranger’s houses and get free
candy.  Now what could be more fun  than that?  I can remember my mom  taking my brother and me shopping for our costume—we usually bought those cheap  nylon things with the plastic masks, but I didn’t care, I thought they were the  best.  I can remember being a skeleton one time, a costume that for some reason I loved—but my favorite costume was the year that my grandparents had been to Hawaii and brought me back a hula dancer costume, complete with a grass skirt.  Well, unfortunately for me (although I’m sure my mom was relieved) it was too cold to wear the costume without something on under it. 
I remember being so disappointed, and thinking I looked pretty dorky (which, from the photographic evidence that my parents have, was true)—but I wore the costume anyway.  I don’t  remember many of my other costumes, except probably the last one I had as a kid—I was in Junior High at that point—and I dressed as a “hippie”, in ripped jeans and a big baggy shirt, with my long hair all uncombed and down in my  face. My parents must have been so  proud. (and probably glad I was through with Halloween!)  
It was kind of fun to put on different personalities every year, to be  someone different than the girl I was in every day life. 
 
I think most of us can relate to that desire to be someone else from time to time—especially when we’re
kids.  There’s something very freeing about putting on a costume and pretending to be something you’re not, to try on different personalities and maybe imagine yourself having a different life.  Living in a family of
actors, I know they all seem to thrive on this idea of putting on different characters, taking on different roles, pretending to be someone different than they really are.  And I think that’s ok, as long as they don’t start pretending in what is supposed to be their real lives!
 
In the scripture for today Jesus is accusing the Pharisees of pretending to be something that they’re
not.  He has some really harsh words for them in this passage and the one that follows it. Things are heating up in Jerusalem, time is growing short for Jesus’ ministry, and it’s becoming painfully clear that the religious leaders of that time aren’t going to buy into what Jesus is about. 
  
I have often wondered, “why do the Pharisees and others in Jerusalem at that time resist Jesus’
ministry so fiercely?  So many of the things that Jesus says make sense and only reinforce God’s teachings about justice and mercy—so why is it that these people are so against him?”  well, I think we begin to see the  answer here in this passage and in the next one, where Jesus pretty much calls
out the Pharisees and exposes them for what they are:  hypocrites. In today’s passage he criticizes them for specific ways that they act, and in next week’s he calls them out directly in a series of discourses designed to reveal their true hearts. Now make note that it isn’t the office of Pharisee that he’s criticizing—in fact, he instructs the people to listen to what they have to say, but not to follow their lead.  Do as they say, not as they do, because they don’t practice what they teach. 
 
So what are the offenses that Jesus is pointing out?  He accuses them of these things:  of placing heavy burdens on others that they themselves aren’t willing to carry, of having a publicly pious face, of liking the power and honor that comes from the office that the hold, and worst of all, for exalting themselves above
the one they are claiming to serve.  
  
You see, what makes their actions so bad is that not only were these men religious leaders, they
were pretty much the arbiters, the judges of everything that went on in the society—whether religious, or political, or social—everything within the Jewish society that wasn’t ruled by the Romans was ruled by the Pharisees and members of a few other Jewish sects. And to all outward appearances they were the perfect Jews: upright, moral, law-abiding.  But on the inside, where no one could see but themselves (or so they
thought) they were just like everyone else in the world:  human and fallible and sinful. But their biggest sin wasn’t being human, it was pretending to be righteous in public.  Big mistake. 
 
I guess it’s always a danger when you attempt to be a leader, in church or government or whatever,
that you’ll attract the respect and admiration of other people—and then start to believe the things they say about you, the praise they lay at your feet.  Since the early 1970’s it seems as if politicians and religious leaders right and left are being found out for appearing to be something that they’re not.  Jim Baker’s ministry fell when it came to light that he was using money that his organization had raised for ministry
for his own interests rather than what the money was pledged to.  Jimmy Swaggert  was caught
with a prostitute.  Richard Nixon was complicit in the break in and bugging of the campaign office of his
opponent.  A few years ago an advisor to the Vice President was indicted for releasing confidential information that put a covert CIA operative in danger.  There are many other examples of religious and political leaders today being overcome by love of the power that comes to them through their office—so
this wasn’t just something that the Pharisees alone were guilty of.  And again, it wasn’t just that these men (and I know there are women guilty of these kinds of things too) – it wasn’t just that these men sinned or
broke the law or whatever—but in each of these cases, there was a pretense that they were righteous, that they could be and should be arbiters of the society in which they lived.  And that is the kind of thing that has Jesus so riled up. 
 
You see, Jesus, being God in human form, knew what was in the hearts of these people.  Just like God knows what is in our own hearts today.  And he doesn’t care that we’re sinners, Jesus knows that we are all sinners—perfection isn’t the point.  The point is that we admit to ourselves who and what we really are, and that we don’t let ourselves be tricked into thinking that because we are on session or because we go to Bible study or sing in the choir or preach in the pulpit or go to church every time the doors are open—these things are not what makes us righteous--or in our case, Christian.  Wearing phylacteries and fringes (by the way, phylacteries were little boxes with scriptures in them that the Pharisees wore on their foreheads and around their necks, and fringes were the way they wore their hair) didn’t make the Pharisees righteous, pretentious piety didn’t make them righteous, power of office didn’t make them righteous—none of that stuff, not even following the law perfectly would have made them righteous.  Righteousness isn’t  bought and sold like the items for sale in the marketplace to be used as sacrificial offerings—no, the only thing that determines whether you are  righteous—or again, in our case Christian—is what is in your heart. God in Christ doesn’t grant us grace based on the way we act when the world is looking—God in Christ grants us grace based on what is in our hearts as we go about our daily business, God in Christ grants us grace when our hearts
are filled with love for God in Christ Jesus and love for the whole of humanity who are our neighbors.  
  
So what is in your heart today?  Right now, in this very room?  Do your insides match your outsides—in other words, are you sitting here in worship because you think you have to be here?   Or are you drawn here by the love that doesn’t let go? Are you drawn here by the desire to truly know God in a personal way?  I hope that’s why we’re all here.  I hope that each one of you sitting here with me listening to me talk are here because in your hearts is a love for God that is deep and strong. Even if you don’t understand it, I hope it’s there.  I hope it’s there because for one thing, if it’s there your life is going to be much easier to get
through. Easier because you don’t have to worry about whether or not you’re saved, as our Baptist friends like to ask us all the time—it isn’t an issue. Easier because you have God’s love to turn to in hard times, when your house gets blown away in a hurricane or demolished in an earthquake or ravaged by floods; when your sister or brother is sick or dying or just plain hard to get along with; when your business partner or your minister cheats you and walks away without punishment.  Easier because in good times you don’t have to worry that they’re going to end—because you know they will—but you are secure in the knowledge that God is with you in everything, good and bad that you face in your lives.  
  
I hope you all do feel a personal relationship with God in your lives.  If you don’t, and you’d like to, come
and talk to me sometime.  It’s both as easy and as difficult as making God, Christ and Spirit a part of your
lives.  It’s asking Christ to come into your heart, and making sure your heart is open when he gets there.  It’s listening for God’s presence when you’re sitting quetly in church, or in your house, or in your car—wherever you are.  It’s becoming aware of the activity of the Spirit in your lives, the thousands of miracles—big and small—that happen to us every day.  It’s approaching God in prayer regularly—prayer that God will intervene in our lives and the lives of others, prayers of thanksgiving to God for blessing us, prayers of praise to God that become little times of worship in our daily lives.  Having this kind of relationship with God doesn’t mean we’re perfect, that we can put on airs in front of others or that we should be proud of our piety. When we do that we run the risk of becoming like the Pharisees, exalting ourselves over other people and even over God.  But it does mean that we are one of God’s own children, loved and cherished for who we are, regardless of our failures and foibles. When we belong to God we are seen, really seen for who we are—and we are loved for being that person. That is a precious, precious gift, to be really seen and loved for who we are—not who we pretend to be or want to be or want others to think we are—but for being the person that God created us to be, warts and all.  

Friends, even though it can be fun to pretend to be someone else for a time, to dress up in different
clothes or a costume for awhile, we can’t hide who we are or what is in our hearts from God.  But if you insist on wearing a spiritual mask—having the pretense of faith and of love for God--- you won’t be fooling anyone but yourself. So open your hearts to Jesus Christ, to the grace and love of God that
sees us for who we are and loves us anyway.  Amen.

Matthew  22:34-46          October 23, 2011      
 


It  must have seemed so simple.  Just  present this upstart, this nobody, with some tricky questions—surely he would be  tripped up and things would go back to normal.  Things were getting out of control, the
people were too interested in this guy, this itinerant preacher who went to John  for baptism and associated with sinners. First he fed a huge crowd of people  with a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. Next thing you know he’s  healing a man blind since birth. He doesn’t seem to care about protocol or
hierarchy, either; and he actually has his followers picking grain to eat on the  Sabbath.  It’s time to put this guy  in his place.

So  the Pharisees devise a question sure to trip him up: is it lawful to pay taxes to Ceasar or not? A difficult question because if Jesus answers “no” then they can report him to the Roman authorities, and if he says “yes”  he is exposed as a traitor to his own people. But Jesus comes up with a   very thoughtful and diplomatic answer: “give to Ceasar what is Ceasar’s, and give to God what is God’s.” Rats! A great answer! Nothing to argue with there,  nothing to discredit or expose him.  

Next it’s the Sadducees turn—those folks who don’t believe in the resurrection. They bring Jesus a question about marriage in heaven, and again Jesus handles it-- and them-- with grace and subtlety. Today it’s someone identified as a  “lawyer”—another Pharisee, really-- who poses the question: Teacher, which is  the greatest commandment? Notice again the polite phrasing—calling Jesus “teacher”  as  if to offer him due respect.  And the question:  at that time there were over 600 commandments, or laws, for Jesus to choose from. 
 
Most kids, I think, wonder which child in the family is the favorite; and no parent wants to be asked to choose, because for most parents their children are special but different---and they love they feel for each one strong, but different—which makes it impossible to choose between them. And this is the position this
Pharisee is trying to put Jesus in-- choose which law is the most important. Which of the 600 plus laws is the one law that everyone should pay attention to, that everyone should follow. 

Now, if Jesus picks one particular law, then he’s essentially saying that all other laws are less important. But since they are all God’s law, they are all important, and to say otherwise would be downright sacrilegious. But once again Jesus comes up with a pretty clever answer—and does it by
quoting another verse of scripture: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and strength. 

And then before they can take a breath to speak, he adds: and love your neighbor as yourself.

Bam.  Again Jesus is quick and won’t be trapped in rhetoric or doctrine, and gives an
answer they can’t argue with.  Imagine if they would say, no, loving God isn’t the most important
commandment—after all, as I said before, it’s God’s law, how could God not be at
the top of it?  And they needed to retain their own credibility, after all. I’ve heard it said, and you may have
too, that these two commandments that Jesus gives here are shorthand for the big ten--- the ten commandments of Moses—which are the basis for all of the law. The first half of the commandments are all about loving God—Keep only one God, honor God’s name, make no idols in God’s place, and so forth. The second half are  really about relationships with other people:  don’t steal, don’t kill, respect your
parents, don’t want what someone else has, and don’t sleep with someone else’s spouse. 

So even though there are at that time over 600 laws they can be summarized in the big ten, and Jesus takes them down to their very most basic level: love God and love neighbor. Then he asks them a question that they can’t answer at all, and they go away afraid to ask any more questions. 

Now, having heard about all of the tests that these folks have tried to corner Jesus with, maybe at this point we should ask ourselves in what ways we challenge Jesus. I have a feeling we each challenge Jesus nearly every day. Even those who love him, even those who try hard to follow Jesus Christ, who love God and who listen for the teaching of the Spirit I think from time to time challenge Jesus. Following Jesus can be hard sometimes, right? It’s hard to know when we’ve met all of the requirements, when we’ve checked all of the boxes. We humans are funny because we like rules, I think, we like knowing the boundaries—but then we chafe under them because just knowing the laws doesn’t make it easier to follow
them completely.  We struggle to be the faithful people we want to be, that we know God is calling us to be, so we look for loopholes, we look for chinks in the wall of law, because we think these chinks will release us from being held accountable for falling short. We challenge Jesus Christ when we rationalize his teaching: “you don’t really mean I have to give everything away, do you Jesus?” We challenge Jesus when we say, “that person doesn’t deserve my compassion, they’re poor because they’re lazy, unwilling, think they world owes them a living.” We challenge Jesus when we say, “we don’t want their kind in our church” or when we are so worried about keeping what we have that we shut ourselves away from the rest of the world. We challenge Jesus when we are content to let our church drift away because we mistake empty habits for meaningful tradition, and don’t make room for new traditions—that might be meaningful to someone else—to take root. When we say we love God but we don’t act it out. When our practices don’t cost us anything, don’t require any risk, don’t stretch our faith and cause it to grow.

The good news for us is that love of God means trusting in God’s grace—that if we don’t get it exactly right God will love us anyway. Love of God means trusting God enough to know that we don’t have to justify ourselves, we don’t have to look for chinks in the wall of law, we don’t have to look for loopholes in the
system.  We trust that God will always be present in our lives even when we don’t see or feel that presence; that God is patient with us as we struggle, when we make bad choices, when we
aren’t as loving toward others—or toward God—as God is to us.  

But I have to ask: what if we did love God with ALL of our heart, ALL of our minds, and ALL of our strength- and love our neighbor as ourselves? 
 
What if we did love God that passionately, that completely? What if we were consumed by love of God rather than love of, say, football? Or chocolate? Or Dancing with the Stars? Not because we have to, or because some laws tell us to, or because we’re afraid not to… but because we just do? 

I  think first of all, in order to have that kind of love for God, you have to know God, and the best way to do that is through knowing Christ. Read his story in your Bible—even if you think you know it by heart. Read Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, get to know Jesus Christ, God with us, as well as you know your best
friend. Then read some of the letters of Paul, and Timothy, and John, and others. See Jesus Christ through their eyes. 

I would love to see everyone in this congregation get to know Christ better through Bible study—even if you think you already have a great relationship with him. I would love to see more of us involved in Bible studies, either on Sunday morning or during the week. I’m not saying that you all don’t love God, or
Jesus, I can’t see into your hearts… but it would be great if we could renew our acquaintance with him, if we could deepen our relationship with him, if we could think of him as family; I think there’s always room to grow, always things about each other that we haven’t learned yet. But to do this involves giving up something—our time, for one thing, because who has time to do a daily devotional or come to a weekly Bible study? Perhaps we’ll also have to give up our understandings of who God, Christ and
Spirit are in our lives—we might find not the violent God of the OT or the tame God who created the world and now stands benignly by while everything falls apart, but  a God who is present and active, who we can trust to love us, warts and all. We might even have to  give up the walls we build out of the law to keep out those who we think aren’t worthy of God’s love, who look different than we do, maybe speak a different
language because loving God with abandon means leaving behind anything that keeps us from loving our neighbors as well. 

It must have seemed so simple. And it is, really. We are commanded to love, so love  we must do, every day with our whole lives. The good news is that we can do this, because God in Christ loved us first. Amen