Title: God is Good! All the Time!

How many of you came in on time today?
Never be late! Do you know why? I will tell you a story.

A priest was being honored at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the parish. A leading local politician and member of the congregation were chosen to make the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner. He was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited. “I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He stole money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss’s wife; taken illegal drugs. I was appalled. But as the days went on I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people.”

Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived full of apologies for being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk. “I’ll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived,” said the politician. “‘In fact, I had the honor of being the first one to go to him for confession.”

Moral: NEVER, NEVER, NEVER BE LATE!

In Romans, the 8th chapter, the 28th verse:

We know that in everything God works for good
with those who love him…

Do you really know that in everything God works for good with those who love him?
Is that mean those who love God will not get sick get into an accident or never get fired or go hungry?
How do we go about explaining, making sense out of those recurring headlines of catastrophe;
tornado, flood, oil spill, and accident,
that unforgettable scene at Virginia Tech and Columbine, those inconsolable parents, teachers, classmates, friends.
How do we, as Christians, begin to deal with the enormity of human anguish, the sheer magnitude of a Holocaust, a Hiroshima, or AIDS, or at the other end of the scale the microcosmic individual agony of one child, one friend, one family member, who dies of an incurable disease?
How do we explain why bad things happen to us, to me personally?
And how to reconcile all this with a loving Father/Mother-God?
There have been answers given in the past; answers many of us cling to as, maybe not perfect, but the best that we can find.

Woody Allen proposes one that has a certain
offbeat appeal when he suggests that maybe God is not malevolent after all, merely an underachiever.
This text of Paul’s:
We know that all things work together for good to
them that love God…

has been both used and misused in this context.
There is, you see, a dispute between ancient manuscripts here.
Some, reading as I have just done, would seem to suggest that everything is always OK:
…all things work together for good…that everything that happens really does reflect God’s will and therefore must turn out for the best.
So if you love God, just accept, submit, and murmur quietly:
Thy will be done. Lord, thy will be done.
Now while there is a certain strength, a certain shade of the truth in such a reading, I often find it impossible to accept.
I speak only personally here, but even to suggest that such things are God’s will, to propose that either hurricane or holocaust the massacre of children or the deterioration of an elderly mind into chaos or abusive relationship; to suggest that any or all of this is the will of God seems to me to verge upon blasphemy.
What kind of God would wish this hell upon his children – even as a form of punishment?
Whatever kind, and it’s not the God I learned about from Jesus; not the kind of God that l can call my heavenly father or mother, that I can trust with my immortal soul.

Now note with me the alternative reading of this verse:

We know that in everything… in everything God
works for good with those who love him…

Do you catch the difference?

Not that everything itself is necessarily good.
Not that there is no such thing as evil, tragedy, injustice.
But that in and through the evil, God is with us,
working at our side seeking with us the potential that is surely even there for good for hope, for truth and love and faith.

And if we love God, since we love God, we will recognize God there,
join our work to his, and bring forth hope even from the depths of what appears utterly hopeless.

Jesus – do you recall? – told a parable about this.

Two persons built two houses, one on rock, the other on sand.
One fell, one endured;
but, and this is the important part for us today- an observation we all too often miss –
they shared the same treatment.

Storm, wind and flood came equally upon those two houses.
They both were tested,
both pushed to the breaking point by all the buffeting this world affords.

The difference came,

not in the treatment they received from life,
but in where they had set their roots,
had placed their trust.

I have been telling you! There is evil in this world. The innocent do suffer unjustly. How can anyone deny it?

There are hurts and depths of pain that no one should ever, could ever deserve.

The message of the cross, of our gospel, of Paul, is not that we Christians are exempt, completely delivered from such pains, miraculously lifted out of them because we love the Lord.

If this were so, the crucifixion would be a mockery, a meaningless ugly episode on the face of human history.
The message rather is that in all this, in every hardship and agony,
we will never be abandoned,
we will not have to face it alone.
Our God is with us.

Our God Emmanuel which means
“God with us — God beside us.”

One thing more:
Paul says we are predestined:
We know that in everything God works for good
with those who love him, who are called according
to his purpose. For those whom God foreknew he
also predestined…

We hear this word today — predestination —we think of predestination nowadays and get all caught up in debate about whether he or she, or they, or even we, are going to end up in hell.

That is not, I am convinced, at all what Paul had in mind.

When Paul here writes “predestined,” he means precisely what it sounds like, that our destiny has been determined in advance;
that this God who spared not even his own Son, but freely gave him up for you and me, this God has his own plan, his own pre-destiny for his own creation,

and that destiny means redemption,
means renewal,
means deliverance and blessing,
means God’s amazing, almost unbelievable, and yes, all-sufficient grace.

You see, The future finally, lies in God’s hands, not ours.
Thank God for that!

And in everything that happens, whether good or evil,
God is working to bring forth his future through your life and mine.
That is what gave to Paul his supreme, amazing confidence.

That is how he could write that we are:
more than conquerors through him that loved
us… more than conquerors.

Do you realize, do you have any idea how absurd that must have sounded?

Paul, a wandering, Jewish tent maker.
One who had been lashed, stoned and shipwrecked — no, he didn’t write these words in a seminary library — Paul a homeless, unprepossessing prisoner of the Imperial Roman Justice System.
And here was this, this wretched Paul claiming to be more than all of them, “more than conquerors.”

The Good News that Paul bore with him.
The hunger that he bore it to.

Above all, he knew his Lord,
his Lord who died to show that he was trustworthy,
and then returned to give him strength,
power for the journey.
Paul’s living words ring in our ears today:

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life (and when you’ve conquered those two you can conquer anything!) neither death nor life, nor angels, principalities, powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth nor any other creature shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Now that’s what I call conquering!

Let us pray:

Text: Acts 2:1-21
When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other lan-guages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speak-ing Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phry-gia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs–in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”
But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:
‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit; and they shall prophesy.
And I will show portents in the heaven above and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
The sun shall be turned to darkness and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’” —Acts 2:1-21, NRSV

I confess: I have been a poor record-keeper. I really don’t know how many Confirmation classes I have received into membership in the six churches I have served as pastor over 43 years of ordained ministry. I do know that you are the fifth class to be received during my ten years at Centenary. And with the eight of you, I have been privileged to share in the Confirmation expe-rience with and receive into membership at Centenary 39 Confirmands since June 2001.

I am making a rough guess that I have worked with over 30 Confirmation classes during the years, and perhaps received into membership close to 200 young persons. I don’t know what has happened to all of them. I have remained close to a few. And one of those from my years in Teaneck actually wound up answering the call of God to ordained ministry and serves as an As-sistant General Secretary for Education and Leadership Development with our United Methodist Board of Church & Society in Washington, DC. It is always a joy to see Neal when he visits home and our Annual Conference…which I hope he will do in a couple of weeks.

So I have preached—or shared in preaching—on these occasions somewhere around 30 times. I’ve told stories. I have dispensed advice and (I hope) a little wisdom. I have told a joke or two. I have laid down a challenge or two. I have even sung on at least three occasions…once about “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider” who went up the waterspout. That was here at Centenary back in June 2001…but I’ll spare you a repeat performance.

Nonetheless, when it comes right down to it, it is always a little challenging to know just what to say to you and to this congregation on an occasion such as this. Maybe that’s because there is so much that could be said. It is Pentecost, after all, and after 2 millennia, the Church of Jesus Christ certainly has a lot of stories to tell; a lot of joys to celebrate; a lot of blunders to con-fess; a lot of promises to keep; and, a lot of visions to fulfill. Then, maybe the difficulty in know-ing what to say is not because there is so much that could be said, as it is in finding just the right thing to say on this particular occasion. That, I believe, has been my challenge in the past few weeks and days.

As I have reminded the Confirmands throughout our journey over the past 8 months, our Baptism is the sign and seal of our call to ministry by God…whether that baptism occurred over a decade ago when you were just a little child, or will occur today. It is foundational to all that God gives to us and seeks from us as faithful disciples. And what we will do here today in this Service of Confirmation is to offer you the opportunity to affirm and claim that Baptismal Cove-nant as your own. In effect, you will be invited today to Claim Your Name!

The Confirmation curriculum that we have been using is called Claim the Name…and, of course, the Name that it seeks to have us claim is the name of Jesus Christ. To claim him, as your vows will affirm: “…as your Savior, [to] put your whole trust in his grace, and promise to serve him as your Lord, in union with the church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations and races.” But I want to contend this morning that when you claim the name of Jesus, you are also claiming your own name. It works something like this…

Back in the early years of my ministry, our baptismal liturgy had a piece in it which our newer liturgy has dropped. (That is clear evidence that new is not always better…at least in this pastor’s humble opinion.) Just before I was to apply the water to the head of the child who had been brought to the font for Baptism, I turned to the parents and asked, “What name is given to this child?” And upon receiving that child’s “Christian” name, I proceeded to baptize her or him using that name. It really was a mixture of traditions…the wonderful mystery of the Sacrament of Christian Baptism incorporating an ancient naming ritual. In a sense, it reminded us that this child now had a unique identity before God and the family of faith. I know traditions where that question is still asked…and I have even done it here on certain occasions when the Spirit moved me to do so.

Now flash forward a dozen years or so from that Baptismal/Christening/Naming moment at the font, and this young woman or man comes before the congregation to be Confirmed for-mally into the Christian faith. (By the way, I saw a picture this week of the 2010 Confirmation Class at Morrow Memorial United Methodist Church in Maplewood, where I was Senior Pastor for seven years before coming to Centenary. I baptized a few of the youth in that class when they were infants. Talk about additional gray hairs!) Anyway, Confirmation is now that young per-son’s opportunity to claim his or her name in Christ. The name with which they were bap-tized…the unique identity that they have borne before God and the family of faith during the years of Christian nurture and formation…is now the name with which they will accept for them-selves the blessings of full membership and ministry within the Church.

And, in so doing, they are also claiming the name of the Christ who has been with them throughout the beginning years of this journey…and who will continue to walk with them on the next steps that carry them forward into the rest of their lives. As we will sing in a few minutes:

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

As you prepare to claim your name, I hope you will take with you from our brief time to-gether a maturing awareness of the overwhelming love and presence of God in your lives. You have seen it clearly in those wonderful folk who walked with each of you over the past eight months as your Mentors; you have received it frequently from Mr. Mike and Pastor Keith during your class sessions together. And I hope that you might even have caught a glimpse of it from time to time in my ministry with you.

God’s love and presence with us is a mystery of grace, something most of us have yet to even come close to fully understanding. But the evidence is clear, God loves us in ways we can-not imagine. When the way is good, but also when it turns rough, God is there. From the begin-ning to the end, God is there. From birth to death…and beyond death, God is there. May your ever-opening eyes in the years ahead reveal that simple but profound reality. God is with you! Always! No matter what and no matter where.

Cameron, Carla, Becky, Emily, Laura, Brittany, Zachary & John: Though you have been an important part of the “family” of Christ for a long time, this morning we welcome you offi-cially as you confirm your faith and take your place among us—a place reserved for you since the day you first took breath. I pray through the water of your Baptism, and the nurturing the church has provided you over these years—and especially in these past eight months—you will be equipped with a fullness of faith, hope and love: necessary supplies for the next crucial steps in your journey. For all that has been in our journey together, and for all that is yet to be on the road ahead, we give thanks and praise to God.

And let the people of God say, Amen and Amen.
+ + + + + + + + + +

Text: Proverbs 31:10-31

A capable wife who can find?
She is far more precious than jewels.
The heart of her husband trusts in her,
and he will have no lack of gain.
She does him good, and not harm,
all the days of her life.
She seeks wool and flax,
and works with willing hands.
She is like the ships of the merchant,
she brings her food from far away.
She rises while it is still night
and provides food for her household
and tasks for her servant-girls.
She considers a field and buys it;
with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.

She girds herself with strength,
and makes her arms strong.
She perceives that her merchandise is profitable.
Her lamp does not go out at night.
She puts her hands to the distaff,
and her hands hold the spindle.
She opens her hand to the poor,
and reaches out her hands to the needy.
She is not afraid for her household when it snows,
for all her household are clothed in crimson.
She makes herself coverings;
her clothing is fine linen and purple.
Her husband is known in the city gates,
taking his seat among the elders of the land.
She makes linen garments and sells them;
she supplies the merchant with sashes.
Strength and dignity are her clothing,
and she laughs at the time to come.
She opens her mouth with wisdom,
and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.
She looks well to the ways of her household,
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise up and call her happy;
her husband too, and he praises her:
“Many women have done excellently,
but you surpass them all.”
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain,
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
Give her a share in the fruit of her hands,
and let her works praise her in the city gates. —Proverbs 31:10-31, NRSV

As a young woman growing up, and even today, I have continually turned to the Bible in or-der to find guidance as to what I was supposed to be as a woman, as a child of God and as a ‘minister of the gospel.’ The last one, being a minister, was and sometimes remains the most difficult because I only found the example in men for so many years, and the women, early on, were not what I wanted to be – but the calling would not leave me alone. I was happy, but then maybe I should not have been so excited, when I learned from Lillian Klein, that I was not alone as she, like many other scholars and common women alike, struggled the same way with the very same issue! Women, we all agreed, were in the Bible, but many were on the perimeter of the sto-ries and events and there were far too many in number who were nameless and worse yet, engag-ing them was next to impossible! Yet, when I constantly heard a woman being praised, it was not with the words of the actions or events that surrounded Mary, Eve, Esther, or Naomi and Ruth, but it was always with the words of the Proverbs 31 Woman. The words seemed more like a rid-dle to me than those that of praise or recognition. What most of us do not read, hear or focus on is that which comes before and at the end of this portion of scripture or ‘wise saying.’ In the first several verses of Proverbs 31 it is an oracle or learned words of King Lemuel from his mother. It is verse 3 that catches our attention for it says, “do not spend your strength on women, your vigor on those who ruin kings.” Then it moves into verses 10-31, which in its original form is an acros-tic poem or writing – each verse beginning with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Then after the wonderful words of description and praise, verse 31 makes a quick remark about, “charm is beautiful and beauty is vain or fleeting.” I thought to myself, in order to be successful a woman must have some charm and beauty that comes from her confidence. It is this verse that gave me a quick flashback to the women of ministry early on who were sour, single and sad – the way that they were supposed to be as they tried to fit into a man’s world. So you can imagine that after hearing the verses over and over and over again, I thought to myself, “there is no sense in reading this one or even thinking that someone will ever use them in their description of me – I’ll never be like her!” And I thought even more so, how many other women read this and thought the same thing? From the stand point of far too many women, this set of verses, these words of praise, might set women up to think more that they cannot be like this woman, never in a million years – for this woman of Proverbs 31 can not only multitask better than the rest, but she can manager those areas which were often seen outside of the right and realm of women both then and now. Think about it, women are still challenged in the working world today, where as then, this woman is described as not only able to purchase the land, but to organize the usage of it. There is money and power with this woman, and few still have it. And those who have it are working tirelessly to balance the scales of success and acceptance. Or give in to one or the other – we have yet to apply a truly favorable label to a successful woman who is feminine, a mother and an executive. Somewhere someone finds a reason to criticize and correct her. Frustrated, and I do mean frustrated, I picked up a mirror recently while looking for something while I was working on a project in the post midnight hours, and I thought as I looked in the mirror – there she is!!!! I FOUND HER!!! Anyone watching me would have thought I was tired or just plain nuts as I walked around the house talking to myself and saying – Yes, Yes, Yes, I have found her and she is right here in ME!!!

You see the discovery was much easier than I thought – here’s why. The courageous woman in me came from Esther, her predecessor Queen Vashti and the unlikely woman of the prostitute Rahab! Esther comes to stand tall and be prepared to die for her people when she becomes queen and must foil the plot by Haman to kill the Jews. When Queen Vashti is cast aside for refusing to show herself before her husband and his drunken partying buddies – I applauded. Although she risked her position, she refused to be ogled at by men. The prostitute Rahab will be one who risks her life and the life of her family, as she helps spies over the wall and into the city of Jeri-cho. I found myself in the woman of 1 Kings, Chapter 3, who is willing to give up her child to a woman whose own had died understanding what it is to be needy in being complete as a woman and mother. She would rather see her child live than be cut-in-two and die leaving both women alone and empty. I found her in Lydia who made purple dye for cloth; a task that made her indus-trious and never idle. Purple, the color of royalty, was a luxury, a show of richness that others might not have had. I found the woman of Proverbs 31 in Leah and Rebekkah, Dinah, Tamar, the Virgin Mary, Eve, Elisabeth, Martha and Mary, in the woman with the issue of blood, with the wife of a king who knew better to present herself clothed in humility and grace before David than to wait for her husband to get it together (of which he never does). This woman is in Hagar and Sara pitted against each other to prove their worthiness. This woman is found in the women at the foot of the cross, the nameless wives of David and Solomon, in Hannah who prayed silent-ly and after receiving favor gave up her son to be a servant of God. This woman of Proverbs 31 is found in Bathsheba who is summonsed to the king and made a widow and bride by the same without an ability to say ‘no.’ This woman of Proverbs 31 is found is so many more named and unnamed of the Word of God. But more important, you must see, the woman of Proverb 31 ex-ists in so many different forms with us – she lives, in you and in me. She is a capable woman who knows how to produce, to fight, to give life and love and most important of all to survive not by her own strength but because of the faith in God that is set deep within her and cannot be moved, shaken, diminished or destroyed. Now, it’s not like that 1972 song by Helen Reddy “I am woman here me roar in numbers too big to ignore. And I know too much to go back an’ pre-tend!” So many people disliked that song and felt that women were trying to bully their way into the many arenas that we did not belong. But the song spoke of the pain and struggle that women were going through in order to be recognized. Instead, it’s the Whitney Houston song that people sang with ease and listened to with a smile as the lyrics said – “I’m every woman, it’s all in me…anything you want done baby, I’ll do it naturally…!”

It was my realization that night in the early hours, that in my late night, but wide-eyed dis-covery I not only found her, this important woman of Proverbs 31, but had received the respon-sibility of passing her on – not to just my sisters in Christ, but to those who kept ignoring her. But more important, I needed to pass this great woman who was made up of the spirits of so many other women onto the young women who were coming behind me – to the women who knew nothing about her because they could not see her many characteristics in themselves. I might not reach hundreds, but if I simply reached one and she passed her on and she reached one and passed her on, and another and another, before you know it – hundreds of us would know her, this woman of Proverbs 31, and instead of shrinking in the shadows of the lines when the next woman the lifting up of the words, “Who Can Find A Virtuous Woman?” as if it was a chal-lenge, we can hear the words and prepare to celebrate as we stand up on our feet or simply raise our hands and answer the question by calling out the names of the women in our own lives who fit the bill or standing up and saying, I FOUND HER! and she’s right here! in me! Amen

Texts: Luke 24:1-12; John 20:1-18

But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in, they did not find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by them-selves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened. —Luke 24:1-12, NRSV

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Pe-ter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Suppos-ing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am as-cending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her. —John 20:1-18, NRSV

Last Sunday morning we gathered here in festive Palm Sunday celebration much as Je-sus’ followers did before the cross—before the events of a horrific week that ended on Calvary’s torturous hill and in a cold, silent-as-stone tomb. This beautiful Sunday morning we gather in joyous Easter jubilation beyond the cross. For God has rolled away the stone; the tomb is empty; life has triumphed over death. Hallelujah!

But in between these two festival Sundays, a number of us have also stood beneath the cross of Jesus. And there we have understood more completely God’s awesome self-sacrifice. Perhaps we have experienced the blessing of honestly naming our own demons—our deepest pains and hurts and sins—and felt them being nailed to the cross, so that we might be released from the bondage of death to live in the freedom of new life which God offers us. We have been engaged in the struggle between death and life. During this past Lent we sought to Live Like We Were Dying, and now, on Easter; we seek to Die Like We Were Living. We want to proclaim that at the end of this 40-day journey, we are dying to all that seeks to keep us from truly living. We are no longer seeking the living among the dead.

Was it that long ago, that day that death and life struggled to possess her in the garden? Death was nearly welcome that morning, for she had little to live for. The one who had changed her life—who had given her life—had lost his, through no fault of his own. He only sought to offer people new life. But they feared the price.

Oh, She knew about the fear. She feared too, at first. He said she could change. He said God loved her just as she was, but wanted to offer her abundant life. He had said to her, “You only have to let the demons go.”

“Demons!?” Oh yes, that’s Mary Magdalene. There has been a lot of speculation over the centuries about Mary’s 7 demons, much of it a reflection of the demons in our own hearts. Truth is that the most powerful and insistent demon was probably the one that constantly told her she was worthless, unworthy of anyone’s love—especially God’s love.

“You must let go of that life,” Jesus had told her. How difficult that was. How she strug-gled against it. For if she was not worthless and unlovable, then she was worthy and capable, re-sponsible and powerful. What a risk it is to believe such truths. But day by day, as she began to believe it, she began to live it. She began serving with Jesus willingly, because she wanted others to know their value in God’s eyes.

Ah, but the demons of deception are powerful. If you are worthy, they will tell you that you are powerless. If you are self-righteous and do not want to confront the truth, they will rein-force your blindness and find you a scapegoat.

Such was the case for Jesus. He was the perfect scapegoat. If they killed him, they would not have to be tormented by his insistence that they look at themselves, that they free themselves from the demons that possessed them. And kill him they did, in a most shameful and cowardly way. With him dead, they knew that his followers would have no power. And they were right. Almost…

As dawn broke on that third day, Mary Magdalene went to the place where he was bur-ied. The tomb was desecrated, or so she thought. So she ran—ran to find Peter and John. They came and then, wrapped in their own grief, returned to share the devastating news with the oth-ers.

Mary stayed in the garden. She would stay there and weep, until she died of dehydration. She would stay there with her memory of Jesus. But she did not count on her memory going so far, so deep. The cold, insistent voice crept back into her head. “See, woman, you are worthless. You did nothing to save him. It should have been you hanging on that cross.” And then came the word that broke through to her, that death-defying word: “Mary.” She thought she would burst with the radiance of that word! It was him, her friend, her savior, her beloved, her guide, her hope.

He couldn’t stay. But he moved into her soul, sweeping it clean once and for all of all of the dark voices that threatened her. He made her an apostle, a bringer of good news. She was a source of strength to that little band of early followers, and together they carried his message in their words and actions.

I continue to love the Easter story of Mary Magdalene, this weeping, obstinate woman who just won’t leave the garden until she’s found what she’s seeking. From the demon-possessed, perhaps emotionally-ill woman she was, to the wise, persistent, loving disciple of Je-sus who comes to the garden alone, she knows—as the hymn says—that God hasn’t brought her this far just to leave her behind.

So she stays and waits. And watches. And where the other disciples see linen cloths, she sees angels. Where they see emptiness, she sees her beloved teacher.

Life is mysterious and we will never grasp it in full, except perhaps in our surrender and enjoyment of the journey.

Jesus whispers, “There is more,” not to distract us from the marvelous journey we are set on, but to free us to live it more fully. Jesus says, “Do not cling to me, Mary. Return to life.” Je-sus says, “Let go of me, and go and tell my brothers that I am returning to my Father and your God. Go back to life, Mary. Know that there is more, and let that knowledge free you to love more, and to live with joy.”

I hear a similar message from beyond the cross of Jesus. I hear the angels asking us, as they did the women at the open tomb on that first Easter, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” Why do we keep returning to the places of death—cruelty, bitterness, self-centeredness, unforgiveness, violence, feelings of worthlessness, substance abuse, indifference? Why do we continue to revisit the old sins, the old death-dealing habits, when through the baptism of resur-rection we have been called, brought forth into life? Why would we want to continue to poke around among the dead, when we can live in the joy of resurrection life?

In this, my final Easter message among you, I pray each of us will continue to live be-yond the cross, beyond those tombs of death. I pray that each of us will know, like Mary, that we are not worthless and unlovable, but that God’s audacious love refuses to let go of us. I pray we will come to realize that living beyond the cross is about forgiving the unforgivable; it’s about loving the unlovable, the untouchable, the outcast—reaching out to the least, the last and the lost. I pray that each of us can die like we were living with the assurance that God still cares and will always care about us; that Jesus is alive and present, standing upright among us; and, that the Holy Spirit is breathing new life into hearts and souls that once were as good as dead.

Through God’s immeasurable grace and unconditional love, there is no evil that we can commit that is ever beyond God’s ability to redeem. Put more simply, There is nothing in our badness that is greater than God’s goodness.

What a risk it is to believe such truths. But day by day, as we believe them, so will we live them. May each of us, like Mary, hear the death-defying word of our own name spoken by the risen Christ, receive the good news for ourselves, and spread Christ’s joy and hope to all whom we meet.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed!

Texts: James 3:8-10; Matthew 7:7-11; Proverbs 16:24
…no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.
—James 3:8-10, NRSV

“Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for eve-ryone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” —Matthew 7:7-11, NRSV
Kind words are like honey—sweet to the soul and healthy for the body.
—Proverbs 16:24, New Living Translation (NLT)
Will you pray with me? Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
I am so glad you are here this weekend. We are in a Lenten adventure called “Live Like You Were Dying.” During these days of Lent this year, we are stepping back and asking the question, “What if we only had 30 days to live?” How would we change? If you were on a 30-day countdown to exit this earth, how would you live differently? It is a thought-provoking ques-tion and one that is worthy of our time. This weekend we are going to zero in on one line from Tim McGraw’s song, Live Like You Were Dying, that will probably change us in many ways if we follow it. The change the song talks about is to “speak more sweetly.”
One of the most amazing and powerful gifts God gives us is the gift of a “voice.” A voice allows us to be able to express our deepest thoughts and emotions. It is interesting that in John, Jesus is called the Word. And, in Hebrews chapter 1, the writer says that long ago God spoke at many times and in many ways through the prophets. But in these days, God has spoken to us by his Son. The most powerful communication of God to humankind came in the form of Jesus. He is the ultimate and complete Word from God.
Proverbs 18:21 (NIV) says, “The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” Words have power. Words have impact. Last year the average cost of a 30-second commercial during the Super Bowl was $2.6 million. Companies spent $2.6 million for a 30-second shot at getting the word out about their product. The President has a press secre-tary, and his job is to carefully choose just the right words when speaking on behalf of the Presi-dent. Words can inspire, motivate, challenge, and affirm. Or they can cut, de-motivate, wound, and destroy.
Some of us who are here today could give testimony to the power of hurtful words. You can still remember word for word a verbal lashing you received from a parent or a teacher or a coach or a spouse. It may have happened years ago, but even in this moment you can feel the emotion of embarrassment, shame or anger. Verbal shrapnel has left scars on all of us.
On the other hand, some of you know the power of affirming words. You have experi-enced the joy of someone’s verbal blessing. Words have inspired you, comforted you, and chal-lenged you. You know what it’s like for someone to look you in the eye and say “I believe in you… You can do it!”
During our time together this morning, I would like to suggest three ways to use your words so that they are life giving. If you only had 30 days to live, I am convinced these three practical suggestions would be changes you would want to make.
1. Appreciate People
One of the defining marks of a follower of Jesus Christ is the characteristic of gratitude. Even for those of us who have been Christians for a long time, it is easy for our words to be more about grumbling than about gratitude. This is a struggle as old as the human race.
In his rule for monasteries, St. Benedict considered grumbling a serious offense against community life. He says, “First and foremost, there must be no word or sign of grumbling, no manifestation of it for any reason at all.” The most wonderful line in Benedict’s rule describes the appropriate response to a monk who was creating discord by their grumbling. “Let Father Abbot send two stout monks to explain the matter to him.” You complain and whine in the mon-astery and you get a visit from a couple of monk bouncers named Bruno and Guido. Maybe we should implement such a strategy in the church?
Now, I know what some of you are mumbling to yourselves right now. You are saying “you don’t understand. My life is hard.” That may be, but you’re still not off the hook. Listen to this admonition from the Bible: “Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, NLT).
Did you hear those first words…in all circumstances? No matter what happens… I think that just about covers it all. No matter what you are going through; even if you only had 30 days left to live you can still be filled with gratitude. No matter what life throws at you, you are loved. You are forgiven. You have hope. By God’s loving grace, you are at peace with God, and you can face both life and death with confidence.
When people realize that they have been touched by God and they get to live a life they don’t deserve and their hearts are filled with gratitude, you know what happens? Their face gets notified and they smile more. Their mouth gets notification and they speak grateful words.
I want to give you two very doable, practical ways to put this attitude of appreciating people into practice during the next seven days.
First, Say “Thanks” to the people who serve you. Life around here moves pretty fast. If we are not careful, we can blow right past opportunities for gratitude to fill our soul and roll off of our lips. So, this week I want you to focus on noticing the small things. Then, every chance you get this week, say the words “thank you,” or “I appreciate you.”
When you see the school crossing guard at the intersection, roll down your window as you go by and say, “Thanks for what you do.” When you see your mail carrier in the neighbor-hood this week, stop for a moment and just say, “Thanks, I appreciate what you do.” When you encounter the waiter or waitress, busboy, bank teller, nurse, children’s Sunday school teacher or your high school principal, develop the habit of expressing thanks.
Second, Say “Thanks” to the people who shaped you. There are people in your life who have shaped and blessed you, or sacrificed for you. If you only had 30 days to live, I suspect you would track down some of those people and take a few minutes to tell them what they mean to you.
Who is it that is coming to mind right now? Maybe it is someone you haven’t seen in years. But, their influence and example have shaped you to become the person you are today. Their words and prayers motivated you. Go to them if you can and sit down with them. Look them in the eye and say, “Thanks, I am so grateful for your impact on my life.” Now I know this is new territory for some of you, but listen, life is too short and you aren’t promised tomorrow. Don’t miss this chance to sit down with people who mean something to you and say out loud, “I am grateful for you.”
2. Encourage people…build them up
This is so huge and, yet, it is so simple to do. In 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (NIV) Paul offers this challenge: “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”
Mother Teresa once said, “Kind words can be short and easy to speak but their echoes are truly endless.” What a great statement!
We live in a world where people are beat up and put down. We all remember the child-hood saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” That is just not true. Years ago on the old sitcom Cheers, one of the characters was a guy named Norm. One day when he was asked how his day was, he responded, “It’s a dog-eat-dog world and I’m wear-ing milk bone underwear.”
Some of you feel that way about this past week. There are people all around us who are stressed, anxious, fearful, angry, insecure or discouraged. They are everywhere.
But, here is the great news. We have the unbelievable privilege of looking people in the eye and saying to them, “You matter; your life counts; God loves you. You are valuable, and the God at the very heart of the universe is intimately interested in you.”
I’m sure you have seen video footage of the Special Olympics. Don’t you just love watching these clips? As the kids are participating, the parents, friends and coaches are cheering wildly. And as the kids cross the finish line there is a mob of hugging and cheering and celebrat-ing. It doesn’t matter how fast they are or how gifted they are. Every person is encouraged and cheered for and celebrated. If there is any group on this planet that ought to model this kind of encouragement, it is the body of Christ. We should be excessive, obnoxious, and lavish with our encouragement.
Encourage one another daily, as long as it is called today. This is such a great attitude for this 30-day experiment. It is a reminder that all I really have is today. All of our good intentions have led to so many missed opportunities.
I wonder how many people God put in my path this week. But, I was so self-absorbed or moving so fast that I never even saw them. One of the things that I love about Jesus is that he had this wonderful capacity to “notice” people. He never seemed to be rushed. He never looked past them to someone more important. He never seemed to see people as an interruption or an annoy-ance.
So, how about it? Who needs your encouragement? Who could you bless this week with no strings attached?
However, you choose to do it, let me challenge you this week to be a “blessing dis-penser.” I want to give you a chance to put this one into action. I am asking our ushers to share a special card with all of you. What I want is for you to use that card to write an encouragement note to someone this week…preferably sooner than later. Be a “blessing dispenser.”
So, we can appreciate people, encourage people and, finally, we can…
3. Pray for people…
It is a wonderful privilege to be able to speak to people on behalf of God…one I have cherished for over 43 years. But, it is an equal privilege to speak to God on behalf of people. In other words, we have the joy of carrying people and their needs before the very presence of God. We can engage in prayer for the sake of our friends and family…and even complete strangers.
One of the greatest blessings we have is that we can go into the presence of God anytime, anywhere. My hope for you is that prayer will become a lifestyle—an ongoing conversation with God throughout the day. While you are driving, showering, taking a walk, or sitting in front of your computer, you can pray on behalf of those people who are in your world.
Listen my friends, there is power in prayer! Sometimes we minimize the power of prayer and forget that prayer has the ability to move heaven, as we heard in that portion of Jesus’ Ser-mon on the Mount from Matthew’s Gospel earlier this morning.
Prayer should be our first response not our last resort. So, when someone shares a need, a crisis, or a celebration, get in the habit of stopping right then and praying for him or her. People’s tears are often God’s invitation to stop and pray. Sometimes, the most important thing you can do is to tenderly pray on someone’s behalf. The result is that people are encouraged, God’s power is unleashed, and everyone’s faith is strengthened.
I have this picture in my mind of our congregation scattered all over this area and you have your arm around someone whispering a prayer on their behalf. Can you imagine how it might change our community and us if we just started praying for and with people? Can you im-agine how it would impact people if we had no other agenda than to bring their needs before God? Let me challenge you this week give it a try. Make it your goal this week to pray with at least one person that God brings across your path. Come on, take a risk. After all, what do you have to lose? You have only 30 days to live. Go for it!
There is a man in a nursing home in Indiana who is a quadriplegic. He hasn’t been out of a wheelchair in many years. And, now he is unable to speak. But, he loves God and he loves his church. He can’t usher, or sing, or lead a small group…but he can pray. So, every week the folk in his church bring him prayer requests, and for hours every week he brings those needs into the presence of God. Not until we arrive beyond the Jordan will we really know just how much im-pact this man’s life and prayers have had.
I want to finish today where we began. I want to take you back to those words from Prov-erbs 18:21 (NIV): “The tongue has the power of life and death…”
May your words be life-giving this week. Amen.
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Yet, when I returned to the produce section she was gone. Panic set in. I scanned the area around me and she was nowhere to be found. I ran to the front of the store and looked down each aisle. I still could not find her. My eyes filled with tears as I thought of never seeing my mom again. Who would feed me and love me? Where would I live? What did I do to deserve this? Then I wiped my tears out of my eyes and stood up straight. I walked over to the counter and asked them to call my mother over the speaker system. It seemed like an eternity, but I saw her. My mom was running. She seemed scared and as she got closer I saw tears in her eyes. I began to wander, what happened to mom? She never cries. Did she get hurt? Did she fall? As she got closer she reached out her arms and grabbed me tight. I cried too. It took me a minute, but I realized my mom had been looking for me too. The whole time I searched for her, she was searching for me. I never should have left her side. Separation is a painful experience. We can feel abandoned, unloved, vulnerable, bewildered, even angry when we are separated from the persons we love. Separation is so often not what we expect. It threatens our security and our future. What can we do if we don’t know it’s coming? How can we stop it from happening?

The community Isaiah speaks to is recovering from a traumatic separation. This separation is beyond any individual relationship. The people are separated from God. How did this happen? The once great nation of Israel fell apart. The glory days of David and Solomon were no more. The kingdom divided itself in half and each half was carried away into slavery by a larger nation. The temple in Jerusalem, the house built for God, was completely destroyed. Its riches were looted and its stones thrown down. The people were dazed. Where is God? Why is this happening? What will become of us? No one spoke of hope or deliverance. They felt abandoned, forgotten, defeated. Their community crumbled around them as did their relationship with God. The Babylonian captivity is a story of failed relationships, a story of separation.

What exactly is the irreconcilable difference that set the people on a course of self-destruction? Isaiah and many of the other prophets of the Old Testament make no secret of the fact that the people were worshipping other gods. It is a continual theme running throughout the Old Testament. The Israelites bow to a golden calf while Moses is away. One of the Ten Commandments specifically says not to make idols and to have no other gods. In the time of Elijah anyone who refuses to worship the god Baal is executed. There are always competing gods. They take away the people’s time and energy to invest in their relationship with the Creator. How can you have a close relationship with someone you don’t talk to and do not visit on a regular basis? You can’t. It’s not possible. The people’s priorities shifted over time and their relationship with God degenerated and decayed to the point of death. Their daily existence no longer had a unified purpose rooted in a common god, but a divided purpose centered on their own wants and desires in the moment.

The people’s relationship with God was broken and so was their relationship with one another. The law in Deuteronomy calls for the corners of the fields to be left for the widows, the orphans, and the aliens to tend. It also says to leave any unintentional crops that may fall from harvesting for the poor to gather. The law in Deuteronomy recognizes that it is the community’s responsibility to care for the most vulnerable and least-privileged among us. Yet we also know from the Old Testament prophets that the community was not taking care of its own. The poor and the marginalized suffered greatly while the people who had, gained more. The reason for the existence of any community is to ensure the survival and wellbeing of its members. In this case, the community failed to follow the law, in essence, leaving its weakest members without resources and without any hope for survival. The people’s relationship to each other withered away and was transformed into a self-centered, winner-take-all lifestyle. The people were no longer in relationship with God or with one another.

In the ruins of broken relationships and shattered promises, the people become slaves to other nations. It is not that God left them for they long ago had left God. It’s not so much that their community was surrounded and destroyed by the Babylonians as they had already broken their community down by ignoring the cries of the needy. Exiled miles away from home in an unfamiliar land with a wholly different culture and language, the people wonder if they will just disappear as if they had never existed. It is in this context that Isaiah brings them good news. It’s time to rebuild, to start over. Their glory days from the past are no more, but there will be glory days in the future. What’s more, as they build their community anew, God will ensure their success. The people are offered a new chance to rekindle their broken relationship with God and with one another.

Rebuilding is an exciting opportunity, but an enormous challenge. The previous structure fell apart. What will you do to ensure that the new structure does not also collapse? When Hurricane Katrina slammed into the Gulf coast a few years ago, very few people would have predicted the damage done to New Orleans. Everyone placed so much faith in large mounds of dirt and rock holding back millions and millions of gallons of water. When the levees broke open, the houses were not prepared for the rising waters. Most of the houses were a total loss. After the storm, new houses are required to be anchored more than 30 feet into the ground and rest several feet above the ground surface. This way the house will not be moved and it will be safe from the rising water. It is extremely important when rebuilding to learn from past mistakes and build better, wiser, and safer.
Jesus provides with a blueprint for rebuilding relationships with God and with one another. It is through Christ that we are ultimately restored to full relationship with God. Jesus obediently followed God’s call in his life and made himself vulnerable for the sake of the community. Also, it is from Christ that we are given the beatitudes, blessing the poor and the weak. In Matthew chapter 5 Jesus says, “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden.” Our rebuilt community sits in a place where the world can see it. Do we ensure that the world sees us? Are we comfortable with the world coming to us and the changes that would occur? What are we doing with our elevated position? What kind of example are we setting for the wider community around us? Do we care for the lowly, the marginalized, the wounded, and the oppressed?

It is always a good idea to ask ourselves difficult, self-reflective questions. We should never be afraid to hold ourselves accountable for our relationships. Let’s take an inventory of our relationships now. Are we truly a city on a hill? Do people look up to our church as a shining light or do they pay us little attention? Do we wait for people to come to us or do we go out and meet people where they are? Which one of these do we think fits the image of a city on a hill more closely? How do we organize our priorities? Does God make the top five? How do we make God a priority? What do we do to care for one another? How do we care for the widow, the orphan, and the alien? Relationships are always changing. There are ups and there are downs and it requires constant maintenance to keep the relationships we value. Let us not wait for the point when we have to rebuild. We don’t have to let ourselves slip into brokenness. When we are lost, alone and afraid, thanks be to God that He looks for us as we are looking for Him. Thanks be to God that when we feel alone, there is always a community here to support and build us up.

Text: Luke 2:1–20
2 In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be regis-tered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, be-cause there was no place for them in the inn.
8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19 But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. —Luke 2:1-20, NRSV
According to a front page story by Gustav Niebuhr in The New York Times a few years ago, this moment is an annual predicament for us preachers. What do you say in a very few min-utes to a larger-than-usual congregation that will convey the power of this night and day? And how do you do it in a way that encourages you all to return on a regular basis? One New York preacher says he takes this opportunity to at least remind everyone that “we do this every Sunday morning at 11:00.” Well, I can’t say that—because we do it at 10:15.
By the grace of God, I stumbled anew this year upon a story by Nancy Gavin of Balti-more, MD, which I had first encountered back in December 1996. It was called, “For the Man Who Hated Christmas.” And so my greatest predicament in thinking about preaching this eve-ning came in deciding whether to proceed with the standard angels, shepherds, sages and saints, or let you bask in the glory of Nancy Gavin’s story. Well, after re-reading Nancy Gavin’s re-membrances a few times, I made my decision: Tonight you’re going to hear about Mike, “…the Man Who Hated Christmas.”
“It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so. It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas—oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it—overspending, the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma—the gifts given in desperation because you couldn’t think of anything else. Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
“Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly [African-American]. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler’s ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.
“Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn’t acknowledge defeat. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, ‘I wish just one of them could have won,’ he said. ‘They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them.’ Mike loved kids—all kids—and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse.
“That’s when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anony-mously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the bright-est thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years, for each Christmas, I followed the tradition—one year sending a group of [developmentally challenged] youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground a week before Christmas, and on and on.
“The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure.

“The story doesn’t end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. And when Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition had grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchil-dren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope—Mike’s spirit, like the Christmas Spirit, will always be with us….”
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PRAYER
On this eve of love reborn, may we be reminded that each human venture of love, given unselfishly, is but one faint fragment of the glimmer of light lit in Bethlehem that burns on eter-nally. May our souls dance within the unending circle of its splendor and our spirits know the song of true everlasting peace. Amen.
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(The First Sunday of Advent)
Text: Luke 21:25-36
“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”
Then he told them a parable: “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Hea-ven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
“Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.” —Luke 21:25-36, NRSV
As a child I was always fascinated with tall buildings. It was a little odd since our small town’s tallest building was a five-story parking garage. Yet every time we went into Houston my heart fell out of my mouth as we topped a hill and caught our first glimpse of the skyscrapers. From that point on I did nothing but look up, so much so that I often returned with a sore neck. As much as I enjoyed it, every time was always the same. There were no new buildings. They had not changed color and they certainly had not moved. Why look up so much if the scenery is the same and it makes your neck feel like meatloaf? I think I looked up to escape what was happening on the ground. People were honking, cutting lanes, bumping fenders, flipping fingers, screaming new vocabu-lary words that were never on the weekly list (sometimes including the people in my own car). It was all just too busy for me. Everyone was in a hurry, worried, stressed, annoyed, ticked-off, and inconvenienced. In the sky there was always something constant. The tops of those buildings were always there, rooted in the ground, ready to greet me in silence, full of light, pointing away from the madness. I just could not take my eyes off them.
We are always looking up for signs, aren’t we? We search for that thing or that somebody that can change our current reality. Are our present circumstances so bad? Maybe they are and maybe they aren’t, but either way we feel the need to float away on a cloud of hope; hope that there will be change, hope that life will get better, hope that pain and suffering will disappear, that every need and perhaps even every want will be met. We disconnect ourselves from the ground of our circumstance and fly away. In an instant we are brought back down to earth. We can feel the impact as we fall and splatter our-selves onto the ground. What could take us down from such a glorious high? What wor-ries could suck the air out of life so much that we suffocate? My relationship is over. I forgot to defrost the pot-roast. I’ve been laid off. My son is sick. The train is broken and I will never make the interview. Both of my parents are gone forever. Someone put red socks in the wash with my white clothes. I was hit twice in two weeks by careless drivers. Road construction! Traffic! Babies cry. Spouses whine. And the bills, they keep coming. Why can’t it all just go away? Fly me off to another place. It is too much. I cannot take it anymore. SO WE ALL LOOK UP!
There is really nothing wrong with looking up. After all, it is only logical to search for a change somewhere out of our own realm and reach. The real problem with looking up is the eerie silence. If I just broke down and got overwhelmed, the last thing I want is silence. I want to know that someone is listening. I want to hear words of comfort. I want to be reassured. I want to know that the burden has been lifted, the chains are bro-ken and I am free to worry no more. Yet I am greeted with silence? It is not a good idea to breakdown emotionally, physically, mentally and be alone. We all need comforting companionship, a helping hand, a healing heart. So we keep looking up, but what if the sign we are looking for is not there? What if our focus should be somewhere else?
“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars.” The beginning of today’s scripture from Luke is so familiar to us. It is familiar because the heavenly bodies are so important in scripture as signs. We need only turn to Bethlehem to see just how scripture and Christian tradition have married the heavens with a sense of foreboding, a gift for announcing a new arrival. The star of Bethlehem shines bright over the manger, an an-nouncement to the world that Jesus Christ is born! According to Matthew, the first people to congratulate Mary and Joseph and the first to worship Jesus were the three wise men, astrologers who read star charts looking up for a sign, waiting and hoping for a change. Yet Luke is not Matthew. Luke does not leave us looking up, he brings us back down to Earth as he continues, “And on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” The focus is no longer on the heavens. It has shifted to the chaos on Earth. It is a frightening thought that destruc-tive forces will overtake the very ground we stand upon. Why would God want this? Why do we still wait for a sign that has not come? We asked for a change, not for chaos.
As an 11 year old growing boy I was hyperactive, sometimes hyperventilating, and always hyper-destructive. I loved to break things and watch things break. Fire was always fun too. Just before my birthday in the summer of 1996 a movie came out that was made just for me, Independence Day. It combined tall buildings, destruction, fire, and aliens. I was in line for opening night at the cinema. I was blown away by scenes of annihilation in New York, Washington D.C., and Los Angeles. It was a quick high and I loved every second of it. However, the high dissipated quickly when they nuked Houston. The buildings that were once my refuge now stood as a pile of rubble. Houston didn’t even get a good action sequence; a dinky flash and then rubble. I walked out of the thea-ter before the movie ended. I did not realize it at the time, but those buildings were my sign of peace. They calmed me and soothed me. When I attended the University of Hous-ton as an undergraduate student I would often drive in a ring around the buildings to think. In my mind I still think of them as an escape.
We all have our Houston, that place where we go in our mind to avoid the un-pleasantness of life. It is helpful to have that momentary escape when we need it. How-ever, it is harmful if we depend on our Houston to get us through the ups and downs that we will inevitably face throughout our lives. Hollywood makes billions of dollars dis-tracting us from our downs, showing us how things could be worse than what they are. It is a cheap solution to a very real problem. If our place of refuge is not truly safe, where can we go? If we cannot expect to look up for a sign, how can we find peace?
Maybe Luke can help clear up our confusion. “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.” One word from this passage sticks in my mind, sprout. Sprout is to emerge, to develop rapidly. The hope, the change, the new life we are waiting for will all sprout forth from the ground. The promise of deliverance, an ongoing relationship with our God will come out into the open right under our noses.
Maybe instead of looking up for a sign, we should be looking down for the hope that is already there. The problem with looking for a sign is that we place our expecta-tions on what the sign will look like, smell like, feel like, and taste like. God’s sign for us will almost certainly be different than what we expect. This mess of a world that we have created for ourselves can still be used by God for greatness. Is it chaotic, sure! So many people, so little money, so many places, so little time. It’s like an ant hill of activity. Is it really a surprise that it is all too much for us to take? We should not be so shocked when we breakdown. It is not a matter of if but when. There is good news too. We need to break down. It is the only way we will tell our false places of refuge apart from the only refuge, the very heart of God in Jesus Christ.
We need not look up and wait for a sign any longer. Our sign has come from be-low. As we were made from dust, Jesus sprouted up human, as dust of the earth. The Son of God became dirt just to be with us, to suffer with us, to love us, to deliver us. He did not look for a refuge from the busyness and craziness of the world in which we live. He jumped into that craziness, every dark, dirty, nasty, decaying corner of it. He brought real change and hope. What can we say about a God that is willing to get the grime of our greed and the soot of our selfishness on His own face? He is that comforting companion, the helping hand, the healing heart. God is listening, giving words of comfort, reassuring us, letting us know that the burden has been lifted, the chains are broken and we are free to worry no more. We wait for the holy, the divine to come down to us where we are, but He has already crept up through the top soil and is pulling on our heels pleading with is to let Him into our lives. It’s as simple as dirt, the very ground underneath us. Let us bury our busyness and our anxiety. The chaos in life is a human creation. We want a simple fix. Here it is. God’s in the dirt. In that dirt there is change, life will get better, pain and suf-fering will disappear, and every need will be met. We must trust and know that we al-ready stand on solid ground, holy ground.

Text: Psalm 126
Psalm 126
A Harvest of Joy
A Song of Ascents
When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dream.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
and our tongue with shouts of joy;
then it was said among the nations,
“The LORD has done great things for them.”
The LORD has done great things for us,
and we rejoiced.
Restore our fortunes, O LORD,
like the watercourses in the Negeb.
May those who sow in tears
reap with shouts of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy,
carrying their sheaves. —Psalm 126, NRSV
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Bill Long says he always chuckles when he reads Psalm 126. The reason has little to do with the ideas or concepts in the Psalm but with a story from his past. As you now know, the old Gospel hymn which we just sang, “Bringing in the Sheaves,” is based on Psalm 126. And the chorus is especially joyful:
“Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves,
Bringing in the sheaves, bringing in the sheaves,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.”
I’ve been singing it to myself all week long in anticipation of this morning’s service.
In Bill Long’s opinion, “It is sort of a hokey tune and words, but hokeyness never stopped the Protestant Church from singing something.” But its “hokeyness” is not the reason Bill laughs whenever he reads Psalm 126. He explains: “Well, my youngest brother, who is eight years younger than I, used to go to various ‘sing-a-longs’ with me when he was a kid, and we would sing the old Gospel tunes with gusto. This was one of his favorites. I could never figure it out until I heard him belting out the chorus one day. He sang, ‘Bringing in the cheese, bringing in the cheese.’ He loved cheese, especially cottage cheese, and thought that the hymn was celebrating the ‘cheese harvest.’”
I also have some memories that arise whenever I hear this particular Psalm. As it turns out, it was the text for the second Sermon I preached…way back during my college years. I had preached my first Sermon as a senior in high school at my home church—Main Street Methodist Church in Nashua, NH. I don’t remember the Scripture passage I used for that message. What I do remember was, if you listened carefully, you could have heard my Grandpa White’s vest buttons popping with pride as his eldest grandson stood in the pulpit to preach his first Sermon. You see, it was a place he would love to have stood as a young man. But family responsibilities and circumstances never permitted him to fulfill that dream, and he spent his years laboring in a New England textile factory, while singing in the First Baptist Church choir, teaching Sunday School, and faithfully raising his family of six children.
The other thing I remember about that first Sermon was this…you might have heard my Grandpa White’s vest buttons popping if it hadn’t have been for the ungodly squealing from my Grandmother White’s hearing aid…smack dab in the middle of the Lord’s Prayer, of all times! And up and down those pews crowded with aunts and uncles and younger cousins, there were the snickers and giggles that erupted, because my Nana White was blissfully unaware of the racket her hearing aid feedback was creating. We were all used to it…it happened a lot…but it was seldom as humorous as in that solemn moment of prayer. In those days, the Lord’s Prayer came before the Sermon, so, as you can imagine, I approached the Pulpit with more than knocking knees as I tried to remain composed.
But it was sometime in my junior year at West Virginia Wesleyan College that a classmate who was already serving as a supply pastor to several small churches just outside Buckhannon asked me to preach for him one Sunday morning. I don’t remember why I chose Psalm 126 as my text, and I really don’t remember a word of what I said in that sermon…even though I preached it in two different churches on his circuit that morning. All I remember is that my fiancé Tina (now my wife of over 44 years) and I traveled together over winding West Virginia roads to those small Methodist congregations; that we were greeted with the hallmark hospitality of those wonderful mountain folk; and, that my fledgling efforts at homiletics were received with uncommon grace and courtesy.
I don’t believe that over the course of 43 years of ministry that I have ever again preached on Psalm 126…not since those days in the early 60’s in West Virginia. I don’t know why that should be, because Psalm 126 is a superb Thanksgiving text. For one thing, the psalmist acknowledges the reality of suffering and loss that we all experience in this life. Yet the writer of Psalm 126 also lifts up the redemptive power of hope and joy that so often emerges out of the restoration that follows loss. In fact, this Psalm recalls one of the biggest joys of Israel following one of the biggest periods of destruction and suffering: the Babylonian captivity. At one point in time it appeared that Israel was finished as a nation and a people: the temple was destroyed; the people were scattered; hope was drowning in a flood of tears. Yet, in time the people were freed from exile and captivity. Reunited and restored back home in Israel and Jerusalem, they began to rebuild their nation and the Temple once again. And they knew, according to the promise of God, that even though they may have sown in tears, they were now going to “reap with shouts of joy.”
Psalm 126 is a “Song of Ascents”—so named because, as pilgrims would “ascend” the rising road to Jerusalem and the Temple, they would sing some of the Psalms. This one is especially full of nostalgia—of the memory of that miraculous time when God brought the exiles home from Babylon. The day of homecoming was wonderful! The trip back passed like a happy dream; even the enemy nations stood and watched in surprise and awe as God’s redeemed returned home. But then…then came the years after. Years of rebuilding all that had been lost and destroyed. Life turned out to be pretty hard, compared to the joy of coming home. They wanted a taste of joy again! They wanted their fortunes to be as when they went singing and dancing back home.
I suspect there are some of us who may be immersed in some nostalgia as the Thanksgiving holiday approaches. At least that has been indicative in the kind of e-mailings I have been receiving from some of my senior friends these days. In these chaotic times, I sense in them a yearning for “the good old days.” I suspect that longing has been intensified by the lingering economic doldrums—fed by memories of a more prosperous time…of less anxious days.
The fact is that even in this time of lessened resources, one commentator on the scene has observed that most of us in this room still have plenty to eat, plenty to wear, and plenty to get around with. We still have much for which to be thankful.
Preaching on the themes of gratitude and celebration in Psalm 126, Frank Schaefer has said, “The thing about thankfulness is that it should be more than a fleeting expression—it should be a life-style and an attitude. You may call it the attitude of gratitude. It is an attitude with life-changing power.
“When we say ‘thank you’ to God—even in the midst of a crisis—it almost seems as if our worries subside. Perhaps this is so because we may remember how God has helped us in times past.
“Thanking God reminds us that God is a God of protection and provision. Even in times of adverse circumstances we know that God is a compassionate, caring God who has promised to come to our help and rescue us.”
Some recent studies are suggesting that there may be a direct connection between an attitude of gratitude and one’s state of health—not merely emotional well-being, but actual physical health! TV talk show host Oprah Winfrey brought this study to public awareness in the United States some time ago. She suggested to her audience that making a mental list of things we can be grateful for before going to sleep at night (and/or before getting up in the morning) will have a very positive impact on a person’s life and health.
Making such a mental list of things we are grateful for does not only make us aware of the many blessings we have in our lives, but it can actually change our perspective. As one African-American preacher put it, making a such a mental list led one father to a new attitude: He went from feeling angry and frustrated over not having enough to provide his children with much-needed shoes, and started to thank God for having two sets of feet that belonged to healthy children. In this way, his problem became a “good problem” to have–even though it was still a problem.
We really do have a choice about our attitude. We can be critical and complain about everything that happens to us. Or we can look on the positive side with an attitude of faith that the God who promised us a joyful harvest just might still be at work in the world and in our lives. And that attitude of gratitude might just compel us to find ways in which we can become a part of the solution to the “good problem” of a father seeking much-needed shoes for his children. Your gifts of food here at the base of the Altar Table this morning are a testimony to the power of that attitude of gratitude. And so will be the commitments you will bring to the table a bit later in this service, as you seek to support our ministry and mission for Christ’s sake.
Why is it sometimes so hard for us to have a positive attitude? It seems so easy to complain about petty things like dirty dishes, stinky laundry, and unmade beds. It’s so easy to look on the negative side. Frank Schaefer says, “I suppose when they were out there wandering around for forty years in the wilderness, the Israelites got really tired of quail and manna after they had tried Manna Soup, Manna & Quail Casserole, Quail & Manna Casserole, Hot & Spicy Shredded Manna, Baked Quail with Sour Manna Sauce, and Sweet & Sour Manna. I’m sure they got tired of the same food every day, but they had the wrong attitude. They forgot how bad things would be without God’s help.”
One woman demonstrated the attitude we might desire to have when she wrote this unusual prayer:
“Dear Lord, Thank you for this sink of dirty dishes; we have plenty of food to eat. Thank you for this pile of dirty, stinky laundry; we have plenty of nice clothes to wear. And I would like to thank you, Lord, for those unmade beds; they were so warm and comfortable last night. I know that many have no bed. My thanks to you, Lord for this bathroom, complete with all the splattered, messy, soggy, grimy towels and the dirty lavatory, they are so convenient. Amen.”
Attitude is a choice, but it is a choice that makes all the difference. Let us make a choice to be thankful all the time, not just in this Thanksgiving season. Let us be Thanksgiving people all the time—people who live with an attitude of gratitude.
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PRAYER
God of endless providing, we give thanks for both the simple, ordinary ways you sustain us and for the complex, amazing gifts of your creation:
for the warm scent of fresh bread and the sharp taste of icy water;
for the elusive touch of a spider’s web and the hidden center of a black hole;
for the gift of loyal companions on long journeys;
for the myriad communities and cultures who find you in their midst;
for all the ways you reveal yourself, whether close at hand, or out of our reach.
Do not let us become complacent. Keep us always mindful of your care for us, that we may remain your grateful people, servants praying in the name of the Servant. Amen.
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