Don’t Tell Us What To Do

Amos 7:1-8:3

Ann and I usually clean our house about mid-morning on Saturday’s. She’ll do the bathrooms, upstairs vacuuming, and downstairs mopping while I wash clothes and do the downstairs vacuuming. It’s the fairest way we’ve found to divide the duties.

Once we get started we don’t usually like to stop until the work is done. So we try to stay out of each other’s way while at the same time support what the other is doing. So, when things come up, such as I’ve been waiting for a response to an email I sent earlier and my phone alerts me to a message which came in, sometimes I have to ask her to get my phone for me because she’s closer. Sometimes it puts an unwanted pause or interruption in our rhythm.

Because we like to help each other, though, she’ll stop what she’s doing and get the phone. On rare occasions the interruptions become more frequent. She asks me to get a new soap dispenser for the Swiffer, I ask her to take a sheet to the washer, she asks me to make sure I wash the couch covers, I ask her to grab me a drink of water.

It’s on those occasions one of us will eventually say, “Stop telling me what to do.” We don’t mean it, because we’re just good to each other that way, but it is our way of saying I’m busy too.

It’s also our own little way of saying, “You can do these things yourself, so go do it.”

The truth is that sometimes it’s just easier to ask someone else to do it. I know I can get my own glass of water, I just choose to let the other things I’m doing become more important. The other truth is that sometimes I just don’t like being told what to do, or what not to do, if I think it’s going to disrupt my life.

To a certain degree I think we’re all that way. Sometimes we just don’t like being told what to do.

As followers of Christ, though, we recognize that there are times when we’ll be told what to do by the still, small voice of God. As much as we might want to choose not to do that which we are being called to do, when God wants us to do something chances are we’re going to do it.

This is where Amos finds himself in today’s passage.

The Book of Amos is told from a narrator’s point-of-view. But here, in chapter 7, we suddenly see the use of a first person writing style when Amos says, “This is what the Lord God showed me.” Nobody has figured out why the writing style has changed, but when something like this happens it’s usually because the original writings were edited in some way. There is no scholarly consensus that this is the case here in Amos, but if you went home and read Amos, completely skipping chapter 7 up until chapter 8 verse 3 you would find that Amos has a much better flow and makes a lot more sense as far as the message this book is trying to get across.

Then again, because Amos is believed to be written around 765 BCE, with no existence of any other writings for us to compare to, we are left to find an understanding as to why Amos changed his voice, the voice with which he tells his story. Why does Amos insert a more personal way in which to get this point across?

Maybe it’s because Amos is trying to tell us that the reason he is prophesying is because God told him to and to him that’s a very personal thing.

The vision of the plumb line is the 3rd in a string of 4 visions. The 2 before this have to do with the destruction of Israel through locusts and fire. Amos pleads with God to not let those visions come true, and God listens. However, it’s obvious that God feels God needs to do something about Israel, so God shows the vision of the plumb line to Amos, highlighting the fact that Israel does not measure up to their covenantal duties; Israel has become a place where people are more interested in their personal successes and lives that they no longer remember to take care of the poor, the orphan, or the widow.

If there is one thing we can learn from the prophets, any of them, it is that God expects us to provide for a world where all are taken care of and nobody is forgotten. Peace through justice is what the prophets’ messages are.

Amos has no response to God in this vision. Instead we’re invited to listen as Amaziah, Priest of Bethel in the Northern Kingdom of Israel, bemoans to the King of Israel how Amos is making it difficult for him to do his job. For, you see, Amos’ words are most likely scaring away those who would come to the temple; at least I know if I wanted to go to church and someone was ranting about my destruction I probably wouldn’t want to go in.

It’s at this point Amos says that he’s not prophesying for his own benefit. After all he had a happy life as a herdsman and caretaker of sycamore trees. His was a simple life where he spent all his time outdoors, enjoying God’s creation in peace. But, as it is with prophets, God had other plans for this man, and so off he was sent to a place outside of his comfort zone where he was to talk about death and destruction.

If we read past today’s passage we’ll see that Amos is given a fourth vision, one of the fruit basket which sounds good and yummy, but in the interpretation of what Amos saw we are told it was a basket of rotting summer fruit. This is God’s way of making God’s decision to destroy Israel final, saying to Amos, “The end has come upon my people Israel.”

It’s here, at the end of this 4^th vision I want us to pay special attention. So far we’ve been introduced to the book of Amos as being written in the third person, except for chapter 7 until chapter 8 verse 3. During chapter 7 we are invited into a more personal view point of Amos’ reason for being a prophet, the intimate relationship he has with God. We’re also given a snippet of priests and kings trying to stop Amos, trying to tell Amos what he can or cannot do.

Then here at the end of this trail of visions we hear God say to Amos, “Be silent!” And for the rest of the book Amos once again tells his story in the third person, narrating the interactions and conversations between God and God’s people.

It’s almost to say that Amos recognizes that it is God who has put him there and it is God who guides him. Amos, in this unusual way of writing, unusual to today’s standards anyway, is in my opinion making it very clear who is allowed to tell him what to do.

Which gets me thinking; who tells us what to do?

Sure, sometimes I let my wife tell me what to do; okay, more than sometimes. But as far as making life decisions, as far as how I present myself in the world, as far as the words I choose to use and the actions I choose to perform, it’s God, through the teachings of Jesus Christ I let tell me what to do.

Amos might have been a mere herdsman, but God saw in him someone who could speak on God’s behalf. Amos might have been a simple caretaker of sycamore trees, but God knew that he could be more. God knows what we’re capable of, God gives us the gifts we need to do God’s work, and God puts us on the path to helping make this world a better place for all – especially the downtrodden, especially the outcasts, especially those who live on the fringes.

To me it is very clear what we are called to do; what God is telling us to do: Take care of each other and this world in the same way God takes care of us. As Jesus so eloquently puts it – love God with everything you are, and love each other and yourselves in the same way.

Ewa Community Church is in a unique place at this point in our history. We are a church that has endured many changes. Some of these changes were good ones such as the combining of the ethnic churches into one, and some of them not so good like the closing of the plantation. But somehow we’ve found a way to keep moving forward.

As we continue to move forward, together facing whatever challenges are ahead, I want you to remember who has brought you here. I don’t mean your uncle and aunty or parents. I’m not talking about a friend or colleague. I don’t even mean a website or social media page. I want you to know that it is God who has led us all to stand in this place, in this time, with one another.

It is God who has brought us here and it is God who is trying to tell us what to do and it’s in God we need to put our trust. You’ve heard me say that we all have gifts given to us by God. Our gifts vary as much as there are people sitting in these pews. What we need to be willing to do now is find that voice which says, “Yes, I’m living a life that’s more or less in my comfort zone, but what if I could do more? What if God is expecting me to do more?

In 2011 a small group of teachers from our school made plans to go to Fukushima, Japan during spring recess. On the night before they were to fly that part of the country was hit by one of their worst natural disasters; a 9.0 earthquake followed by a deadly tsunami. The combination of those 2 events resulted in almost 16,000 deaths and the nuclear meltdown of one of their power plants, the latter of which is still affecting life in Fukushima.

When we came back from the recess one of the teachers told us of how she felt about what almost happened to them. If the earthquake had happened just a day and a half later her and the other teachers might have been among the almost 16,000 who lost their lives.

As she talked about how her life was almost changed, it struck her that the lives of those living in Northeast Japan did change. I watched tears form in her eyes as she said, “I wish there was something I could do for them.”

The next day she rushed into the office and proclaimed she had the best idea in the world about how to help the people in Japan; she would collect money from teachers and students and donate it to the Red Cross. We gave her a look, telling her she’d be lucky to get a couple hundred dollars, but her goal was to raise one dollar from every student and teacher in our school, about 2200.

She promoted the fund drive as “Hearts for Japan”, and the dollars which were donated were folded into origami-style hearts by students in our academy as well as others. Students would come by and drop off hearts they collected in their classes. Some gave $15, some gave $150. The administrators even got involved, challenging each of them to give no less than $10, which some did, and some didn’t.

It was amazing to watch as the folded hearts kept coming. She was adamant that each bill collected be a dollar, so she would go to the bank and change some of the 5’s and 10’s and 20’s that came in. She took the coins and put them in her bag, replacing them with dollar bills. By the end of the drive, which lasted 2 weeks, she had collected close to $2300 in folded hearts to donate towards the rescue efforts in Fukushima.

When all was said and done I had a private moment with her, congratulating her for how she brought the Kapolei community together for a great cause. She only smiled and said thank you, which I saw as a very humble response to what she just achieved. The following words are some that will stay with me for a while.

I remember asking her if what she did was so that she felt better about what happened in Japan. She said to me that what she did, she did because there was a little voice which told her to do so. When she heard that voice she immediately knew it was the right thing to do and it didn’t matter if she had the abilities to do it, somehow she knew everything would work out.

Now is not the time to doubt your gifts, or to think there’s possibly nothing you can do for the church that you haven’t already done, or to speculate on how much easier a life it is taking care of sycamore trees. Now is the time to dig deep, to find the thing God is telling you to do, and to go out and do it.

God is with us all.   Amen.

Not So Easily Fooled

2 Corinthians 1-13

You may have heard that one of the most difficult places to be a Christian is on our freeways. If you drive you know that being caught in morning or afternoon traffic, going less than 5 miles per hour, taking more than an hour to go 20 miles or so, can be very frustrating. If we add that there are literally thousands of other drivers feeling just as frustrated, we have the possibility for unpleasant things to happen.

Sometimes things get me so frustrated that my wife has to remind me I’m a Christian, and a minister, so I shouldn’t let my feelings overtake me to the point where I do or say certain things. I will admit, though, that there are times while on that crowded freeway when my feelings get the best of me and I do things I later regret.

As you know I live in Mililani. A trip home from the Liliha area during afternoon traffic can sometimes take an hour; in the evening it usually takes about 25 minutes. However, when the lanes on the freeway are combined into one lane going through Pearl City, as with the current rail project construction, that same evening travel can take much longer. In fact, I remember one night when it took me almost 2 hours to get home; a very frustrating night, indeed.

I left work at about 9 pm and made sure to call my wife to let her know I was on my way home. Everything was going well until I got to Moanalua Gardens, just before the freeway goes up Red Hill. That’s where the traffic had come to a standstill. I didn’t think too much about it – maybe it was an accident or a stalled car up ahead.

As I sat there, literally not moving for almost 15 minutes, I began to wonder what was going on. If it were an accident or a stall I surely would have moved by now. I honestly didn’t know what was going on and as I looked around at the faces of the drivers close to me I could see that they also had no idea.

Many of them had gotten on their cell phones to see if social media could tell them anything, which reminded me that I really should call home to say I was going to be late. Using voice dial and the phone’s hands-free options, I called home. Being that I really didn’t want a ticket for using my phone in the car, I decided to put it away so the temptation of doing like everyone else would be minimized.

Of course, the more I looked around the more tempted I became. I began to think to myself that I would definitely see a police officer coming, if one could get through that traffic. I convinced myself that others would surely be caught before I was. And, before I knew it I was on my phone, seeking answers for this horrid traffic from Facebook and Twitter.

Of course, since I was stuck and moving at such a slow rate, my social media searches didn’t stop at what were the reasons for the traffic; I wanted to also know what all my friends were doing. I became so involved at being on my phone, I never noticed the police officer as he passed by on a motorcycle. I immediately covered the phone with my hand, thinking that would lessen the glow coming from its screen.

I didn’t want to be like everyone else, but the fact that everyone else was getting away with it pushed me over the edge. I broke the law. Fortunately the police officer either didn’t notice or had decided to let all of us law-breakers get away with having our phones on and I didn’t get a ticket. I did, however, learn a lesson.

In today’s passage from 2nd Corinthians, Paul helps the church realize a similar situation, except that Paul’s rhetorical talents helps the reader understand how silly the whole thing really is.

Paul begins by mentioning that it makes no sense to brag, because bragging gets nowhere, and decides to move on to the topic of visions and revelations. The reason Paul wants to talk about this is because at the time this letter to the churches in Corinth was written, many others who called themselves prophets and teachers had come into the church. The quickest way for these super-apostles to accumulate followers was to talk about how one was a personal participant in the seeing of visions from God. Paul is now addressing the church’s enchantment of these kinds of people.

Paul tells a story about someone he may or may not know who might or might not have had an out of the body or in the body experience 14 years ago. Paul doesn’t claim to know any of this, but he does say God knows, immediately basing what’s happened in God instead of himself. What I find amusing about what Paul has started doing, is that while he says bragging has no use, he’s actually started bragging about himself. That person who may or may not have done those things 14 years ago is him.

While with one breath he says he won’t brag about himself, with the very next one he does. However, he tells us he won’t brag about his strengths, or the things which make him just like the perfect super-apostles he’s talking about. What he does want to brag about are the things which make him inferior, his weaknesses. This is alright to do, in Paul’s opinion, because he won’t be making a fool of himself as his bragging will be coming from a place of truth.

He then goes on to tell of all the afflictions he’s endured since becoming a follower of Christ, and in doing so tells us of how his weaknesses have actually become his strengths. By turning the rhetorical table completely around where he is now bragging of his strengths…Paul proclaims he has become a fool. To make things even more comical, Paul blames the whole thing on the Corinthians.

To add a little insult to the point he just made, Paul adds that he’s not inferior to those so-called super-apostles as he is the only one who continuously shows the churches he works with signs, wonders and miracles; never treating the churches in Corinth different than the other churches he works with. Adding that he has never been a burden to the church in Corinth, except that, unlike the super-apostles who live among them now, he has never been a financial burden on them, he never made the church provide for his personal needs. And for that, for not being a financial burden, he apologizes – tongue in cheek, of course.

If I were in the Corinthian churches I would be feeling pretty guilty right about now. Kind of like how I felt when that police officer drove by.

You see, I knew getting on my phone was wrong, but what I also saw was that everyone else was doing it and I really just got caught up in a game of follow the leader, even though I knew that leader was going in the wrong direction. On that night in that horrible traffic I made the conscious decision to put my trust in what others were doing, instead of what I absolutely knew to be the right thing to do.

One of the benefits of my job at Kapolei High School is that I get to develop relationships with 16 and 17 year olds who may not feel accepted by other adults. In my 5 or so years with the school, I’ve shared in the journeys of these teens as they face every imaginable life event. I’ve sat with young people as they cried over the recent deaths of family members and cheered because a new sibling was just born into the family. I’ve helped a few get a passing grade in their classes, and I’ve watched as others achieved becoming valedictorians.

Mostly, though, we sit and talk about daily stuff such as friends and family and what they did over the weekend. I want to say that over the years I’ve developed some pretty good friendships with these young people.

A few years ago there was this one boy. He was a junior and really tried his best to get good grades. He told me he studied, and he did most of his homework and classwork. But for him the pace with which we moved in our Academy was maybe a little too quick.

He didn’t get bad grades, averaging a low C for most of the year. But he wanted to do better; he wanted to prove that he could get better grades. So he tried harder, came in for tutoring and did what most students who are trying to better for themselves should. No matter how much he tried, though, he just couldn’t get his grade high enough, at least high enough for him.

It was the middle of the semester, and a time when we take mid-terms in our Academy. One of the classes in which this young man struggled was having a 50-question exam and for the entire week leading up to the exam he came in everyday to study and get tutoring. Whenever he took a mock test, however, he couldn’t seem to remember anything.

The day of the test came, and he was visibly nervous, so I took a little time to talk with him and joke around a little to try and settle him. I’m not sure it worked, because his nervousness never left. The exam was passed out and he was actually one of the first to finish, not the first, but among the first 10% at least. I walked over to him and asked how he felt about the test and he said he thought he did really well.

He did in fact do really well, scoring in the mid 90’s. After the tests were passed back he took a look at his score and breathed a sigh of relief. He had accomplished what he set out to do.

I don’t know why he did what he did a few days later, but for some reason he approached me during recess and told me how he was able to score so high on that test. He cheated; hiding the answers from the exam study sheet on a small piece of paper behind his name badge. 

This young man was my friend; we had shared a lot of life together. I knew his home situation and if word got back to them that he cheated, he would most likely be beaten – I’m not exaggerating. But I couldn’t let the fact that he, along with a small handful of others, cheated on a test go un-told.

I found myself in that place where I could have been a friend and followed what his other friends did and kept quiet, or I could do what I was supposed to do and let the teacher know. I could have been a follower of the wrong way which would have been foolish, or do what is right.

I lost a friend that day as he couldn’t believe I turned on him and the others.

Making the right choices doesn’t always come easy. Sometimes it’s easier to just follow the crowds. But, as Paul reminds us it’s in taking the difficult road, it’s in making the decisions which are right but not necessarily easy that we find our strength in Christ.

Jesus made some difficult decisions during his ministry here on earth. He stood up against oppression and for justice in a time when the poor and sick were all but forgotten. He spoke out against discrimination based solely on a strict adherence to the laws of his day and instead told everyone to simply accept others for who they were and for where on life’s journeys they found themselves. He did the things which angered those in power, but found himself loved by everyone else.

 His was not a ministry of doing things simply because someone said he should. His was a ministry which pointed out that what God truly sought from humanity was that we find a way to live in harmony with God, each other, ourselves, and creation.

It is this Christ that Paul says to let rest on us, so that we can live within and share in Christ’s amazing power. In so doing, Paul would say, we also allow the power of the one God for all people to be within us, to flow through us and to live among us.

God is always with us.  Amen.

Doing What We Can

2 Corinthians 8:7-15

When Betty Amsden was an 8 year-old girl she walked into a candy shop not knowing that when she walked out her life would be changed forever. As she tells the story, ‘‘I was kneeling down and driving the man behind the counter mad choosing things - sherberts, liquorice - and I asked the girl behind me what she was getting. She said, ‘Nothing, I haven’t any money’. So I said, ‘Squat down beside me and we’ll get some together’.’’

She describes that moment as the most difficult donation of her life. The money in her pocket was a lot in more than one way. Not only was it money she had earned herself, working hard for it, but it was all the money she had in the world. And now she was giving some of it to a stranger. Which turned out to be okay because, as Betty tells it, ‘‘[That girl] became my greatest friend and we went through life together.’’

I would say the exchange was a fair one;

a donation for a friend.

Today Miss Amsden is considered one of the greatest philanthropists, giving more than $6.5 million to Melbourne’s Art Centre to use towards scholarships, leadership training, and youth programs. She also supports the Australian Ballet School, Polyglot Theatre, the Melbourne Chamber Orchestra, Victorian Opera and Guide Dogs Victoria. But, her support goes far beyond a monetary donation as she believes in being a hands-on participant.

She says. “To me, that’s what philanthropy is about. It doesn’t matter what you give or how much [you give], [just] give of yourself. You must care for other people. It’s taken me 80-odd years to work this out.” She adds, “I just wish I had 20 times the money I have so that I could do 20 times more good.”

Betty Amsden is a living example of what Paul is saying in today’s passage.

In this part of Paul’s 2^nd Letter to the Corinthians he is asking for money. If we read what comes just before this we’ll see that not only is Paul asking for money, but he’s comparing the giving he hopes the church in Corinth will give to the donations already given by the churches in Macedonia.

Within the comparison, however, is a challenge as well. You see, the churches in Corinth were very wealthy. Corinth itself had a good socio-economic make-up with a majority of the people in the middle class, a few poor and fewer rich. But as it is for many communities in that time, the rich held the power.

It’s believed Paul wrote the second letter to the churches in Corinth from Macedonia, which in stark contrast was a poor region. The churches within Macedonia include Thessalonica and Philippi and were among the first churches to be started by Paul. We are told by Paul himself that the area of Macedonia was poor when he writes in this letter that, “the churches of Macedonia suffered a severe ordeal of affliction and extreme poverty.”

This fact, though, did not hinder Macedonia’s giving as we are also told that their churches gave donations to Paul with abundant joy and with a wealth of generosity. As Paul also points out the Macedonian churches voluntarily gave according to their means.

That point, how the churches are giving according to their means, is the focus of today’s passage.

Paul begins today’s passage by praising the Corinthian church. Paul recognizes the hard work they have made in all aspects of church life – faith, knowledge, eagerness to learn and ability to share their belief with others.  I believe that if Paul were around today he would say the same thing about Ewa Community Church.

In the 3 months I’ve been here I’ve been witness to the same things about our church. I have seen how strong your faith is and how passionate you are about our church. I enjoy the questions you ask and your willingness to participate in bible study and other educational discussions. I have sat with some of you as you told me stories about how your own lives have been changed because of this church and your firm grounding in Jesus Christ.

Yes, I truly believe that if Paul was around today he would have nothing but praise for us, just as I do. When people ask me how I’m doing here I always tell them how great the people of Ewa Community Church are and how willing you are to engage in conversation with open minds and hearts.

This, I believe, is the type of church Paul was engaging in this letter. Maybe the only difference between the Corinthian church and ours was the amount of wealth they had. However, unlike our church it would seem that the Corinthian church was unwilling to let go of any of that wealth; hence why Paul compared the Corinthian church to the Macedonian churches.

Paul urges the Corinthians to give according to their abilities, something the Macedonians did. Paul does not say they have to give everything they have, nor does he say they have to give anything at all. His is simply a request that the Corinthian church show their love in the same way other churches have; being sincere in providing for the well-being of those outside their church walls.

This is something we all can do. Individually we may not have a lot. But working together we can provide for the well-being of those outside these walls in a meaningful way. While some of us have the abilities to help with the plumbing, yard work or building maintenance, others of us have the gift of reaching out and calling on those in need of a friend, or bringing someone a meal, or helping run errands. Then there are those of us who have a lifetime of knowledge and wisdom who are more than willing to share in the things they have learned.

We, each of us, have a gift which, when we put them together, can only make our church and our community a better place. And there’s no better feeling than being a witness to these gifts being offered. Because, as Paul also mentions, it is through God’s grace, shown to us by the life examples of Jesus Christ, that we are all to benefit from what is given in the name of love.

For, as Paul reminds us, Jesus had everything, being the son of God, and yet came to live among us with no possessions of his own to claim. He was born poor, lived poor, died poor. While on earth he asked for those who could give to do so for others – if you have an extra coat give one away, if your neighbor asks for bread in the middle of the night wake up and give him some.

Jesus actually lived with people who were considered the outcasts of society – he ate with tax collectors, touched lepers, allowed women to learn from his teachings. And he broke a lot of the laws of his people during his time such as working on the Sabbath.

But what Jesus did, he did because for him to do anything less would be to not show the graces of God. If through his example Jesus could show just one person what it truly meant to have a God who took you into his family, regardless of where you were on life’s journey, then Jesus’ ministry on earth was well worth the sacrifices he made.

As we sit here today we can proclaim that because of Jesus’ example of grace at work, we are all united under one God, as one people. Paul, though, takes this a step further and challenges the Corinthian churches to be just as Christ was – eager to share the loving graces of God. And Paul says to do so in the way they can, according to the gifts they have.

A few years ago I was in Kaka’ako Park as part of our Worship in the Park services. The services included singing, prayers, scripture and a message, just like a Sunday service. The services were held on Thursday nights and would include anywhere between 40 and 60 attendees.

The people who lived in and around Kaka’ako Park included many single men and women, with the oldest person being in their sixties. There were also families in which the children ranged in age from newborns to teenagers. Some people only came for the food, but a vast majority came for the worship.

Three weeks out of the month we served a bag dinner consisting of sandwiches, fruit, chips, cookies or some other sweet snack, and a drink. The last week of each month we served a hot meal, and as you might imagine we usually had more visitors on the nights the hot meal was served.

I particularly remember this one night. It was during the winter, so by the time we served the meal it was cold and dark. The line seemed longer than usual, with close to 100 people in attendance. We usually prepared for 80 people on the nights we served the hot meal, and it looked as though on this night we might fall a little short.

The word went out that we had more people than expected, but we would do our best to be sure everyone in line was served. We usually had enough rice and salad to go around, as well as enough desserts; it was the main course we worried about most.

It was my turn to serve the main course for that night, and if memory serves me it was hamburger stew. I apologized to our guests for not having enough as I put a little less than I normally would have on their plates. However, as much as I apologized I heard twice as many people return with a sincerely grateful “thank you” and “it’s ok’s we’re just glad you’re here.”

As the line lessened it seemed we might just make it to the end and that everyone would be served a hot meal for that night. As the people continued to come through I noticed 2 men who kept looking at me and turning away when my eyes met theirs. It wasn’t one of those creepy looks, but a look that was almost shameful for having to be there.

One of the men was in his late 20’s while the other was much older, maybe in his 60’s. As they got closer I watched the younger man pulling the older man along, gently tugging at his arm as if to say “come along.” I finally caught the younger man’s gaze and flashed him a smile, hopefully one that conveyed the message that he was welcome and so was his friend.

The 2 men finally reached the line and graciously accepted each gift of food that was placed on their plate. We had lots of rice, and the younger man asked if he could have an extra scoop. The older man simply held out his plate to accept whatever was placed there; his eyes never looked up.

They both stood in front of me, waiting to have the hot stew placed on their plate. The younger man looked up, locking his eyes into mine as he voiced one more request; “Could you please give my portion to my friend, he needs it more than I do.”

The older man looked up, his eyes tired, his face sallow, and just as quick as it took him to peek into my eyes he looked away.

I told the younger man I would be happy to and placed an extra portion of hot stew on the older man’s plate, and since I knew we would probably have enough I reached out to give the younger man a portion as well. To my surprise he pulled his plate back and told me that he wanted to give away his portion, and that’s what he did. He added that there were still more people in line and he wanted to be sure they all got something to eat.

He grabbed the older man by the arm and led him to a quiet place on the grass to have their meal.

God’s grace is given freely without expectation of return. Jesus lived his life offering this same kind of grace to those he met on his journeys. Philanthropist Betty Amsden offered grace to those in need without expectation of anything in return. That young man in the park offered grace without expectation of anything in return.

The question to us is how are we going to do the same?  God gives each of us the ability to show grace. We don’t have to give our lives, or large amounts of money, or give up our meal for the night. All we are called to do is offer ourselves to the best of our abilities to make a difference in the lives around us. A difference which will bring peace, hope, and joy to the people God puts in our lives.

God is with us all.  Amen.

Why Are You Afraid?

Note: I'm going to start posting my past Sunday sermons either on Sunday afternoons or Mondays. Here's the first.

Mark 4:35-41

On Wednesday night, just after a small group held bible study and prayers in an historic church in the city of Charleston, a lone gunman opened fire and killed 9 people, including that church’s pastor. One would think that a church, especially one as settled into the community as Mother Emanuel, would be the safest place a group could meet. One would think that within the hallowed walls of a much-loved place of sanctuary fear would cease to exist.

Of course, one would think that about our schools, workplaces and even our homes. After all, it’s in these places we find ourselves away from the crowds, away from the things which crowd our lives with stress, anxieties and trauma. But as recent history has taught us, fear can strike us anywhere and at any time, and those places we once considered safe havens are just as likely to become the place where we feel most crowded in.

In our lives we seek desperately for a place where we can escape the crowds, to get away from those places where we feel as though no matter what we try, no matter what we do, the crowdedness seem to be closing in tighter and tighter. So much so, that there really isn’t a place we can go to just find peace. And, when we think we’ve found that place…

News stories like the killing of 20 innocents in an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut, the murder of a family in their home in Washington, D.C. and the shootings of 9 faithful Christians and pillars of their community in Charleston, South Carolina invade our televisions and our lives.

Where, then, is Jesus in all of this? How do we overcome the crowds and live without fear that our quiet places will remain?

When I first looked into today’s passage I had a definite direction of where God was leading me and what the message for today would be. In the week and a half I’ve lived with this story from Mark’s Gospel my path has been changed 3 times.

I kept thinking about the circumstances which surrounded Mark’s community. I kept thinking about how at any time their lives would be disrupted because of how Christians were being persecuted by the Roman Empire. I kept thinking of Mark’s feeling of having to immediately bring the teachings of Jesus to his community. I kept wondering what it was like to be a part of Mark’s community; the answer came to me a few days ago.

Their lives were being trapped by the crowdedness, and the places where they found solace were quickly becoming the places that brought fear. To use a metaphor we’ll touch more on later, they were in their safe place when the storms of life blew by.

While looking at today’s passage I noticed something I must have overlooked before either because I’m more familiar with this story from one of the other Gospels, or I simply just overlooked it. We are told, “And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him.” Jesus and his disciples travel in more than one boat.

This makes sense. They were fishermen and not rich, therefore the boats they used were made for 3 men, maybe 4. I find this to be an interesting facet in the telling of Mark’s story because of the precise place they found themselves in history: their lives were being disrupted and in order to survive they had to focus on the teachings of the Great Rabbi, Jesus Christ. Just as their people did so many times in their history, they were being oppressed and chased out of their homes to live in the wilderness.

Jesus had to be the focus to this new community of Christ followers just as the Jewish people had to focus on God in the times they were displaced from their lands. And just as the Pharisees and high priests enforced the laws of Moses, the author of Mark needed to center his community into the laws of Christ: to love and honor God, to love all people and to love one’s self.

So, then, Mark begins this story by explaining to us that Jesus needed to escape the crowds, inviting those closest to him to come along. However, they would not travel in the same boat; rather some would go in this boat and others in that boat. Together, though, they would be traveling the same journey, even if by their own paths.

My guess is the disciples felt pretty good about this journey. The sea was calm, they were together, and Jesus was with them. What could go wrong?

The Sea of Galilee sits 680 feet below sea level. It’s a very shallow body of water, with its deepest point between 150 and 200 feet. The hills which surround the lake get up to a height of 2000 feet and are a source of cool, dry air; while the air temperature surrounding the water is warm and semi-tropical.

The result of this geography is that strong winds pick up speed as they go down the cliffs to the sea. Since the Sea of Galilee is small, these winds descend directly to the center of the lake with violent results. When the contrasting air masses meet, a storm can arise quickly and without warning; as can some of the storms in our lives.

Today we have the science which explains how the storm which Jesus and his companions found themselves, but when the Gospel was written the only explanation was that forces beyond human understanding were the cause for such storms. Add to this that people of that time and place believed the depth of the seas to be an entrance into the underworld, and one can understand why the disciples were truly afraid of their circumstance. Yet, Jesus asks them, “Why are you afraid?”

I often wondered why Jesus questioned their fear. By the 4^th chapter of Mark the disciples have seen a lot, at least enough to know that Jesus was capable of keeping them alive. They traveled with friends and surely if something happened, their friends would be there to help them out. Maybe they didn’t have enough trust in their abilities as boatmen, but seeing how their trade was fishing I’m sure they’ve experienced this type of storm before.

After looking into some reasons why they might be afraid, I came across one that actually makes sense: they boarded those boats with the intention of crossing over to the other side. Not just any other side, though; they were going across the sea to enter into the land of the Gentiles – a place they really didn’t want to go. Jesus was asking his followers to leave the comfort of familiarity and go into the land of the unknown.

The other day we watched as Dylan Roof, the Charleston shooter, stood before a judge to hear at what his bond would be set. During the bond hearing, families of the victims were asked if they had anything to say to Roof. Not everyone had something to say, but those who did touched my heart deeply.

My guess is that they were entering into places unknown. I’m sure none of them have ever before faced the person who took away the lives of their loved ones. This was a storm in their lives which had come up quickly, suddenly tossing their lives around. Yet, as each stood and spoke on behalf of their family members, they didn’t call for more guns as a resolution to the violence, they didn’t call for the death of the troubled young man, they didn’t call for an eye to replace the eye which was taken from them.

No, they asked that God show favor on this man and told him he was forgiven. They got in their boats, were taken suddenly by a storm which could have easily thrown them overboard into the depths of darkness, stood tall with Jesus at their side and let hate be defeated with love.

There is a painting by Rembrandt which perfectly portrays today’s story. When you get home I ask you look it up; The Storm on The Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt. When you look at the painting you’ll see there are three boats which are being tossed about by violent waters. Within the boats are Jesus and his disciples, all in various stages of action.

What you’ll find most interesting about the painting, I think, is that Jesus is painted in the shadow of darkness. Most paintings which portray Jesus show him as the light source. He is painted with a ray of light emanating from and surrounding his head, face and body. However, Rembrandt chooses to show Jesus in the shadow of darkness for this painting.

The source of light in The Storm on The Sea of Galilee comes through a break in the storm clouds, and this light does not shine on Jesus. When you look at the painting you’ll see that Jesus is sitting in the back of one of the boats, looking as though he was just awakened from a nap. To his right is a disciple, trying his best to steer a second boat, he is in the darkest place on this painting. The look of fear on his face is also the most expressive of all the disciples.

Jesus is surrounded in his boat by 3 other disciples. Each of these disciples are facing Jesus, pleading with him to do something. These disciples, along with the one behind Jesus who is trying to steer that boat and who shows a look of indifference, are all painted within the same shadow as Jesus.

As the disciples in the painting move further away from Jesus the light which surrounds them brightens. Another thing you’ll notice is as the disciples move further away from Jesus, their attention from his presence lessens. We keep moving away from Jesus and we see that the disciples’ only concern is to keep the boat afloat. Here in the brightest light of the painting we see disciples who have their entire selves being whipped by the dangerous waves of the sea.

In the brightest light of the painting stand the disciples who have jumped into action, the disciples who have decided to become active participants in saving their own lives and the lives of those around them. These are the disciples who understand that the presence of Jesus is always there and that the light of God is what guides them.

As I watched the families of the victims in the Mother Emanuel shooting stand and proclaim God’s love for Dylan Roof, I am absolutely certain they stood firmly in the waves of their storm, with Jesus in their presence, doing what it is God calls all Christians to do: love without exception – even if it means forgiving those who bring pain and suffering through an act of evil.

Frederick Buechner said in a sermon on today’s text, "Go….Go for God's sake, and for your own sake, too, and for the world's sake. Climb into your little tub of a boat and keep going." Buechner then reassures us in that same sermon of Jesus’ unrelenting presence by saying: "Christ sleeps in the deepest selves of all of us, and…in whatever way we can call on him as the fishermen did in their boat to come awake within us and to give us courage, to give us hope, to show us, each one, our way. May he be with us especially when the winds go mad and the waves run wild, as they will for all of us before we're done, so that even in their midst we may find peace, find him"

Sometimes we need to escape the crowdedness of our lives. And when we do the place we escape to may not always be a place of serenity. In a moment’s notice the storms of our lives can overcome those places of peace and quiet. It’s in those times we are reassured that Jesus sits with us, and when we awaken him from the shadows we will have the courage and strength to stand in the light of God as we face those storms head on and feet first. Always remembering we don’t travel those storms alone.

God is always with us.  Amen.

Them Too? Yes, Even Them!

Acts 10:44-48

I recently had another one of those discussions which always seems to get me in trouble. You know, the one where I mention that in my personal theology I believe all people go to heaven, regardless of race, gender identification, political affiliation, or religious belief. These conversations get me in trouble because it's sometimes difficult to comprehend how deeply I believe the love of God to be.

As the conversation proceeded I was eventually asked, "But isn't it our duty as Christians to bring the news of Jesus to everyone?" To which my reply was, "But, isn't the love of God as shown to us by our Christ already known to everyone?"

You see, I cannot imagine a God who loves any less than to include all people in such a way as to bring them into God's family in heaven.

Of course I also mentioned that for me the way into God's heavenly family was through my personal savior, Jesus Christ. What I tried to make the distinction between is that for some the path to heaven went through Jesus Christ, and for others the way into God's family went down a different path; one which God also provided. I tried my best to make it clear that I believe there is only one God, and that one God would be ecstatic to have everyone take their path to be in God's heavenly home.

I told a story of a young woman I know who at the beginning of our relationship told me she wanted nothing to do with God or religion or church. In fact, she had even asked me to stop talking about such things in her presence. I agreed, but still included her in other conversations about life. We talked about family, friends, weekend activities, and other things like that.

One day, while she was going through one of lie's difficulties she asked me if I really believed that there was a God who loved us no matter what. I simply said yes, which began a new relationship between us; one based in conversations surrounding God's love through Jesus Christ.

It was through my respect for her and the path she was on that brought her closer to God. It's through this same respect I fully understand God's love to live in all people whether they are Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, Christian, straight, gay, bisexual, male, female, transgender, or whatever. As Paul reminds us in his letter to the church in Galatia, it's in our act of trusting that we all are participants in the fact that Jesus has come to ensure the world that through his mere existence everyone will know the love of God, and that through his mere existence all people are equal citizens within the Kingdom of God.

To me, there is no greater knowledge that God's all-encompassing love for all of God's people extends throughout all the world so that we can all participate in God's heavenly home, whatever that home may look like for you, or wherever that home may be.

Tanomoshi Ko

Acts 4:32-35

In our high school's Social Studies class we're learning about the early days of plantation life in Hawaii. We're especially taking a very close look at how, through plantation life, the many different cultures of other countries make up current Hawaiian culture and how it began as a way for people to better understand one another.

Imagine, if you will, you decide to take a job in a place where you don't know anything or anyone. You don't know what the land looks like or how the weather patterns are. You don't know what kinds of foods are eaten. You don't look like, dress like, or sound like anyone around you. In fact, you don't even know the language.

You travel with a few friends, so at least there's some comfort among those with whom you are alike. When you get to your new job's destination you find yourself settling into life with many others like you. As your first week progresses you notice there are others; and these others don't look like you, dress like you, sound like you, nor do you know their language. Yet, you need to work with these people day in and day out as well as live side by side with them.

You find your job to be not what it was indicated to be, making far less money than you were guaranteed. Your grand idea to bring the rest of your family into the new world which was promised is now only just that; an idea. So, because you don't have enough money to get home, or to get out of your situation, you continue to work this job with the hopes that one day you'll find a way out so you can be reunited with your family, friends, and loved ones.

You awaken one day to watch as others from a nearby camp say goodbye to a couple who have been working in the plantation for 10 years. You ask a friend how it is they saved enough money to finally begin a new life somewhere else.

He answers, "Tanomoshi." You smile, not understanding what he just said.

He explains that tanomoshi ko is what the Japanese plantation workers did to support one another financially so that, in time, all of them would eventually find a new home outside of the plantations. How tanamoshi works is that an account was created and supported from whatever monies could be spared by the people within a village. When the monies were enough it was given to the one for whom it was agreed to save the money for. This person would enter society outside of the plantation to start a business. Then, when the business did well it would give back to the village who helped them in the first place.

That cycle of giving and receiving continued until everyone from that village was out and able to enter society as a contributing citizen.

Our story from the Acts of the Apostles describes the exact same thing. Early Christians lived in settlements where food and supplies were scarce. They often found themselves outcasts from their original homes or villages because of their beliefs, and as such found themselves living away from city centers where life was a little simpler. The sharing of their possessions made for the best, and most just, living conditions for all.

For the early plantation workers of Hawaii, the sharing of their monies made life for all of them better, it offered hope. For the early Christians, the sharing of their possessions was a result of hope. In either case, hope and sharing go hand in hand.

Today, when we take a look around we are witness to a lot of hope being lost for those who just can't seem to make life better. They work 2 or 3 jobs and save and scrimp were they can. They sometimes have to choose between the rent, medication, or food on the table. In many cases none of the three can be met, and when they look for assistance their government leaders say they need to just try a little harder.

They sit at the bottom of the hill and watch as those at the top of the hill keep shoveling dirt onto them, making that hill bigger and bigger, almost impossible to climb out of.

I'm not saying that we begin living a communal life, what I am saying is that we recognize there are those within our village, those who work in the same plantation as we do, who need our help. Whether it's donating food to the food bank or hygienic supplies to a shelter or giving our time volunteering in retirement homes, or something else, we, as a society called to care for the sick, poor, and widowed, need to start doing something.

When all hope seemed lost because the realization that a better life wasn't going to happen, the neighbors within a plantation village found a way to make people's situations better in order to restore hope; and they did so
one life at a time. Shouldn't we find a way to do the same?

Compassion Friday (aka Good Friday)

Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9

If you look up the word "compassion" in the dictionary you'll most likely see a definition that looks something like this:a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering. In other words, when we think of compassion we think about feeling sorry for someone's circumstance and try to find a way to help better that circumstance.

We've allowed the meaning of compassion to sway far away from its origins.

Compassion comes from the combination of two words. Com is the word for with. Passion comes from the root word pasio which means to suffer. Compassion, therefore, is to suffer with. It does not mean to feel sorry for and to make something better because of that sense of remorse. Compassion is the human response to be a presence in the midst of suffering while doing our best to understand the suffering we make the decision to share in.

Jesus lived compassionately.

We are reminded in this passage from Hebrews that "we don’t have a high priest who can’t sympathize with our weaknesses but instead one who was tempted in every way that we are, except without sin." We don't have a Christ who feels bad for us, but who lived as we do, in every way. Jesus was born into poverty, grew up without a father, lived his last few years houseless, was despised and plotted against by those in power, turned against by his friends, when it really mattered was left alone to fend for himself in a trial for his life, and in the end he died a brutal and painful death.

Through it all Jesus never stopped loving. Through it all he never broke from the relationships between God, others, or himself. Through it all Jesus continued to live a life filled with compassion which in itself transformed lives. Jesus didn't force those transformations onto anyone by declaring he was here to be their savior, nor did he command anyone to believe that it was through him and because of him that all sins will be forgiven. Jesus did not say to the social outcasts, those considered unclean and sinners, you must change your lives and conform to one truth, but instead encouraged everyone, everyone, to share in the love of truth in oneness.

Jesus' message until death was this: through one love show love to all and in love unify all into one love. As Christians we are Easter people and as such we believe in resurrection. More to the point we believe that resurrection is renewal of life. As such we need to find a way to stop waiting for the second coming of Christ and realize that Christ is still here, always has and always will be. As such, and to be faithful to our Easter tradition, celebrate life, celebrate love, and on this Good Friday, celebrate compassion.