It Can’t Be the Messiah. Can It?

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John 4:5-29 NRSV

With United Methodist Bishop William Willimon, I believe that the Bible is not so much an account of our search for God, as it is the amazing account of the extraordinary lengths to which God will go to search for us. Whether we know it or not, or can even begin to understand it or not, we are here this morning because we have been sought, we have been called, and we have been summoned. We are here because God has reached in, grabbed us, and led us here. We are here because God has pursued us. God is even now persuading, prodding and pulling us.

And I believe that the purpose of our worship is to condition us to pay attention to this, to admonish us to look over our shoulder, to help us to notice those little coincidences in our lives and those strange happenings.

For they may be a part of God’s continuing attempts to wrap God’s loving arms around us.

And these things, these coincidences, these strange happenings can occur anytime and in any place. As Jesus told Nicodemus, “The Spirit of God, like the wind, blows where it will”—whether or not we’re ready for it, looking for it, or even want it.

So, it would behoove us to stay alert, look, listen, always pay attention.

I believe the woman in our scripture lesson this morning teaches us how to pay such attention.

That fact alone teaches us something about the way God works. In the male-dominated society in which Jesus lived, especially in the area of faith and religion, Jesus uses a woman to teach us theology. Talk about the spirit of God blowing where it will!

In Jesus’ day, mainline Jewish rabbis simply did not speak to women about faith. However, Jesus was anything buy mainline. But one who always, very radically and counter-culturally, valued women and men equally.

Which brings us to another surprise. She was not only a woman; she was a Samaritan woman. And we know what Jews thought of Samaritans. They were known as pagans and foreigners. They were victims of racism, xenophobia, and bigotry.

Here, the radical words of the Apostle Paul are being fleshed out: “there is no longer Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, but all are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28).

During her conversation with Jesus (which, by the way, is the longest recorded conversation that Jesus ever had with anyone), we also discover that she carries the stigma of divorce, as she has been remarried several times.

And, of course, she is astounded that this man, a Jew, talks to her, a Samaritan. In her eyes, she’s the wrong gender, wrong race, wrong religion. Yet, Jesus meets her where she is. Jesus initiates a conversation with her. Jesus reaches out to her. Jesus engages her.

And of all places, at a well!

It is important to understand that she isn’t there for Sunday School. She isn’t there for the 8am or the 10:15 worship service. She’s not even there for CWF. She is there doing the most ordinary of everyday tasks. She’s simply drawing water.

So, the first thing this woman teaches us is that God speaks to us, God reaches out to us, and God engages us when we least expect it, where we least expect it, and how we least expect it. God comes to us, unexpectedly, undeservedly in the most ordinary of ways.

Jesus then begins to teach her about something called living water and then tells her that he knows all about her; all of her failures, all of her disappointments, all of her grief which has been so much a part of her life.

She then runs all the way back home to tell everyone, “Come! See a man who has told me everything. He can’t be the Messiah. Can he?”[i]

Willimon has said: “She—Samaritan, woman, husbandless—thus becomes the precursor, the very first of all of us later preachers. She was the first to run to tell everyone about Jesus.”

And all she meant to do that day was to go out and get a bucket of water!

And here is the amazing part. She didn’t all of a sudden understand everything about who Jesus. She didn’t run back home singing the Gloria Patri and reciting the Lord’s Prayer. She merely left her encounter with Jesus with a simple, but very profound question: “He can’t be the Messiah. Can he?”

“He can’t be the Messiah. Can he?”  Do you hear it?  Listen again, “He can’t be the Messiah. Can he?

No, it’s not the words of some religious fundamentalist who has it all figured out. It’s more like the words of a innocent child. “He can’t be the Messiah, can he?”

Fifteen or so years ago, during the weeks leading up to Christmas, when my children would misbehave or fuss, when they were not looking, I remember making a fist and knocking on a wall or under the table.

Carson and Sara would immediately stop their fussing and ask, “Who is that? Someone’s knocking on the door.”

I’d get up, go to the door, open it, look around, and of course, not seeing anyone, I would shut the door and say: “It must have been Santa Claus! Don’t you know that this time of year he’s always watching?”

Sara Beth would say, “Nah uh! That wasn’t Santa Claus!” But a of second of silence later, she’d ask, “Was it?”

Can’t you hear it?  Like an innocent child, full of surprise and wonder and an unbridled hope, the woman at the well said: “He can’t be the Messiah. Can he?”

Do you hear it?

With Willimon, I hear a playful openness, a light flickering in the dark, a wonderful willingness to consider that God was larger than her presuppositions of God. I hear a courageous willingness to be shocked, surprised, and intruded upon. I hear a thirst for something to quench a longing soul.

I believe this is the problem with us grown-ups, especially we modern, mainline, mainstream church-goers. We simply say: “That can’t be the Messiah…period!

There is no openness to the possible potential that it might be, may be, could be, probably is.

We are so smart. We have things so figured out, we never question, “Can it? Was it? Is it?”

Even when we are at church, in a Bible Study or in worship, there is no real expectation that Jesus Christ, the Messiah and Savior of the world might actually show up.

To be honest with you, last Sunday, I was almost dreading coming to church. I was thinking: “Daylight Savings Time, Spring Break. Very few people are going to be at church today. And nothing good is really going to happen this Sunday.” I was also feeling a little disheartened that I had to make an announcement regarding our supplemental giving drive. Asking for more money makes me feel like I have perhaps failed at something.

The point is, last Sunday, when it came to church, I wasn’t feeling it.

But then, to my surprise, four people came forward during our final hymn asking to formally join the mission of our church to bless this community and world. One even offered to bless my family by taking us out to lunch after the service. And then, later in the week, I received a phone call with the news that someone believed in our church’s mission enough to make a sizable donation to be used anyway we believe God may be leading us.

And here it is, just one week later, and there’s this renewed, restored, replenished fullness in my soul. There’s this recommitment to share the love and grace of Christ with all people.

Now, I am aware many would say that those events were merely coincidences. Perhaps. However, as I have studied our scripture this week, like a light flickering in the dark, my heart has become open to the providential possibility that God was somehow involved. And the fullness that I feel in my soul is from this wonderful willingness to be shocked, surprised, and intruded upon by none other than the Messiah and Savior of the world, Jesus Christ himself.

Thinking on the words of the woman in our scripture this morning, I cannot help but to think: “It can’t be the Messiah. Can it?”

Can it possibly be that, here in this place last week, Jesus Christ was actually present? Could it be that he was coming to me through ordinary people, unexpectedly, undeservedly, bringing living water that quenches the deepest thirst of my soul.

Jesus, through this Samaritan woman, at the well, answers that question: “Yes, I am the Messiah. I am more alive and more present and more at work in this world than you ever thought possible. I am everywhere offering the wonder of living water, and those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I give will become a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

One of the greatest things about being a pastor is sharing not only times of immense joy with a congregation, like childbirth with the Weibling family this week, but also sharing times of immense sorrow, like with Charlie Heller last week.

I look around this room and see people here who have experienced much sorrow, so much in this past year. I am certain that even getting up this morning and getting to this place was an arduous task for you. Some of you have recently lost a parent, a sibling, a spouse. Some of you have lost a child. You all have lost dear friends. Some of you have been diagnosed with cancer. Some have had to make the difficult decision to place a loved one in a nursing home. Some are grieving broken relationships, broken dreams, broken lives.

And people, including me, look at you and are amazed. We say, “We don’t know how you are making it.”

And yet, somehow, some mysterious way, you are making it. At the very least, something or someone has given you the sustenance to make it to this place this morning to possibly hear a hopeful word.

I look at you with the wonder of a wide-eyed child. And I think of the wonder of that woman from Samaria, and I ask, “It can’t be the Messiah…can it? Can it?

 

Commissioning and Benediction

Now, let’s go and get out on the road

to encounter ordinary people doing the most ordinary of things.

They may be dining at a restaurant, shopping for groceries, exercising at the gym, learning in a classroom, waiting to see the doctor.

They may be the server in a restaurant, the clerk at the store,

the trainer at the gym, the teacher in the classroom, the nurse, the doctor.

Their gender, their race, their religion—it doesn’t matter.

They may be a victim of prejudice or a beneficiary of privilege.

Meet them where they are. Engage them. Listen to them. Bless them.

And may the eternal well of God’s love be found in our encounters.

May the grace of Christ shine brightly through us.

And may the Spirit be with us on every hill, every plain, and in every valley.

[i] If my memory is correct, the words of this sermon were originally inspired and gleaned from a sermon written by William Willimon, possibly entitled, Look over Your Shoulder, in 2005.

Too Smart for Our Own Good

The Shack

John 3:1-17 NRSV

In today’s gospel lesson a very knowledgeable and prominent leader of Israel comes to Jesus seeking to discover who Jesus is and what Jesus is all about. Poised and confident, the educated and sophisticated Nicodemus begins his conversation with Jesus: “Now, we know that you are…”

He begins his conversation from the same place that most of us mature, experienced, long-time students of Sunday School often begin our conversations about God: from the things we know, the things we have figured out… or think we think we have figured out:

“Now we know that you are…”

And it’s from there that the conversation gets all confused, confounded and convoluted. Jesus begins talking to Nicodemus about birth, but poor Nicodemus thinks Jesus is talking about literal, physical birth. Jesus starts talking about the Spirit, but poor Nicodemus thinks Jesus is talking about the wind.

I think it is very interesting that Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night. Because in just a few moments with Jesus, we learn that when it comes to God, when it comes to this mystery that we call faith, Nicodemus is in the dark in more ways than one. Nicodemus comes to Jesus confident and assured, but by the time Jesus gets finished with him, Nicodemus is astounded and dumbfounded, mumbling, “Uh, how can this be?”

Nicodemus has a problem.  And perhaps Nicodemus’ problem is in the very way he came to Jesus in the first place: “Now we know that…”

And maybe that is precisely our problem: “Now we know that…”

Our problem is that we know. And I suppose we can’t help it. After all, we are modern, some say we are even post modern folks who know a lot!

We live in what they call the information age. If there’s something we don’t know, we can just Google it or YouTube it, and in a few simple clicks of a mouse, we know. With WebMD and Wikipedia, there is hardly anything that we cannot understand or easily explain.

Perhaps this is why we try to approach God the way we do. We believe God is to be understood and easily explained.

It is no wonder those on the outside of the church often accuse those of us who are on the inside of the church of being “know-it-alls” when it comes to religion.  They believe that we think we have God all figured out. There are some that think that the reason we are here this morning is because we are God-experts.

And maybe that is why some  they are not here with us this morning.

One day, I was introduced to someone who knew that I was a pastor. I think he wanted to shock me when shook my hand and said, rather proudly, “Well, I’m an agnostic.” Which means that he did not know what he believed about God.

I think I shocked him when I responded, “Well, I have my moments when I am an agnostic too.”

I then said: “If people were honest they would admit: Some people are agnostic all of the time, and all are agnostic some of the time.”

The reality is that what we should be doing here, in this place every Sunday morning, is acknowledging together how little we really know and how much we have to learn, instead of coming here to have everything we think we know about God reaffirmed.

We gather ourselves together to acknowledge the great truth, that when it comes to the mystery that is God, we are all, as God told Mack in the movie The Shack, “idiots.”

“If the shoe fits,” She said.

The truth is that the God we worship is much larger than our imaginations. God is bigger and more alive than we can ever possibly comprehend.

I believe this is one of the reasons some preachers are telling their congregations to avoid the movie The Shack (a movie by the way I highly recommend) And there are many reasons: like maybe Jesus as a Middle Eastern man, if you can imagine that; also, God’s love for humanity compelling Her desire to redeem all people.

But perhaps they are most upset by the way the movie may cause some to question everything they thought they knew about God. Many preachers can not handle God saying to Mack: “I am not who you think I am” and “You misunderstand the mystery.”

But to me, that sounds a little like Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus (John 3:1-17).

Like Nicodemus, we think we know who God is, how God acts and what God desires. But after we truly encounter the Divine, we might learn that we are, well, idiots.

I heard one preacher you say, “If you want to know something about Jesus, don’t watch The Shack, instead watch the more biblical movie, The Son of God.

But, a few years ago, I remember walking out of the showing of The Son of God when it ended feeling disappointed. For I do not believe there is anyway anyone can capture the essence of who Jesus is and present it in a one-hundred and forty-minute cinematic presentation. I told someone that I have been preaching about God is for over thirty years, and I have not even begun to scratch the surface of who God is!

United Methodist Bishop William Willimon, commenting on how some reduce God to something we can easily understand, said: “You can’t define this God, put this God in your pocket, or on a leash and drag God around with you. Life with this God is an adventure, a journey, a leap into the unknown, an expectation that, among even the most regular attendees among us, there will be surprises, jolts, shocks.”[1]

How often have we gathered around this table confident that we know exactly what is going on?

Catholics, and some Episcopalians are all so mysterious, always insisting on calling it Holy Communion or the Holy Eucharist.

Some of us, though, prefer to simply call it “Supper.” Some believe that something mysterious takes place as they eat this meal. They call it transubstantiation. We only believe it is a dry little cracker and tiny sip of grape juice and an act of remembrance that is confined to our limited and finite minds.

But what if there is more going on here this morning than we can see, touch or taste or even remember?

When we gather around the Lord’s Table, what if there is more going on here than meets the senses? What if there is some mysterious communion or a very holy fellowship happening here?

Sharing what we merely call a “supper,” what if we are surprised to discover that we are somehow invited to join the same fellowship that is mysteriously and inexplicably enjoyed between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit?

In and around this table, what if there is something afoot, something happening— something moving, inviting, healing; something strengthening, loving, forgiving; something saving, calling, challenging, commissioning?

We thought that we have come to remember a life, a death and a resurrection, but I believe we could leave having been caught up in that life and death and transformed by that resurrection.

As Willimon has said, “For, that is our God at our God’s best. That night as Nicodemus talked with Jesus, he began with what he knew. And he ended with questions about what he did not know. He arrived fairly confident that he had a good grasp of, [a good hold on] who Jesus was; [he left surprised,] having been encountered and held by the mysterious, majestic Holy Spirit of God in the flesh.”[2]

This morning, when we awoke, we thought we knew what we were doing. We thought we were going to get up, get dressed and simply go to church, sing a few hymns, have the Lord’s Supper, listen to a choir sing and a sermon preached. Then we would leave, get some lunch and come back home unmoved and unchanged, to watch a little more basketball.

However, when got here, we realized that we did not know it all.

We were shocked when a song spoke to us.

We were surprised when a small wafer and tiny cup filled us.

We were jolted when a word challenged us.

We were startled when someone that we did not even know looked at us and blessed us.

And we were amazed when God, the Creator-of-All-that-Is, somehow, someway that we do not understand, called us by name and told us that She is especially fond of us.

And we were absolutely astounded as Christ himself came and wrapped his arms around us as the Holy Spirit breathed new life into us.

[1]Quote and interpretation of Nicodemus’ first words to Jesus “We know” came from William H. Willimon, We Know (PR 34/2; Inver Grove Heights Minnesota: Logos Productions, Inc., 2006), 49.

[2] Ibid.

A Nurse’s Prayer: Remembering Marianna Powell

Marianna Powell

I’m certain that many people have contacted the Powell family since Sunday to let them know that they were in their prayers.

Prayer: it is a wonderful gift of God’s grace. To know that others, some from great distances, from all over the country, are speaking to God on our behalf, asking God to bring us healing and comfort, can bring us a peace that is truly beyond our understanding.

For the good news is that we believe that God not only hears our prayers, listens to our prayers, but we believe God does all that God can do, gives all that God can give, to always answer our prayers.

This is why I loved Kerry’s response when I asked him and his brother Randy: “What was the most important thing that your mother taught you?”

Without hesitation, he said, “She taught us how to pray.”

Immediately, Randy nodded in affirmation.

I said, “What do you mean?”

“Oh. she would work and work with us to help us remember the and recite the words of the Lord’s Prayer,” he said. “Prayer was important to her. She believed in prayer. Before meals, before bed, she taught us to always pray.”

We talked a little more about prayer, but it wasn’t long, nor hard to understand, how prayer was the perfect segue to begin talking about her life, especially how she loved her vocation as a registered nurse.

As Randy and his wife Kandi, and Kerry and his wife Maria, who is also a nurse, talked about how important nursing was to Marianna, I began thinking about my grandmother who, like Marianna, was also born on April 19, but one year later in 1927; and, like Marianna, was also a registered nurse.

I will never forget my Nana talking about how she enjoyed nursing. She would often speak of what she believed to be “the healing power of personal touch,” the importance of “up close and personal” contact with patients.

And whenever I was sick or not feeling well, I always felt better when Mama would have Nana come over to check on me. I always felt better when Nana would come close to me, gently place the back of her hand on my forehead to check for a fever, placing her hands around my cheeks and neck to check for swelling.

Yes, as I said, there are many people praying for the Powell family today, some from great distances. They have sent cards, made phone calls, or reached out electronically with emails or social media, all pledging the Powell family their sincere prayers. Prayer is a wonderful gift of God’s grace. The Powell family appreciates prayer. Marianna taught them to believe in prayer.

But, then there are others (and I am speaking of you) who have gathered here in this place this morning. I am speaking of your who, as they they say, have put some feet on your prayers. You have come to be close this family in their grief. You have come to lay your hands on them, to touch them with an empathetic handshake or a loving embrace.

And they will forever be grateful for your presence here today. They will be grateful that you are not only here and near to them on this day, but grateful for the way that you will always remind them of their mother, grandmother and sister, for the way that you will always remind them of this this one with the heart of a nurse who loved them and loved others and prayed for so many, not from a distance, but up close and very personally.

I shared with the family the story of one of my first visits with Marianna. She was in the dining hall of the nursing home eating dinner. I pulled up a chair and sat beside her. At first, perhaps due to the strokes that she had suffered, she seemed to be a little distant, aloof.  I was on her left, unsure that she recognized my presence. She was sitting up, but slumping a little bit to the right, away from me.

However, when I leaned over and touched her arm, telling her that I was her pastor from Central Christian Church, she immediately turned to make eye contact with me and smiled. And I will never forget what happened next.

With strength that I did not know she possessed, she sat up and started leaning her head towards me.

The caregiver who was feeding her said: “She wants to kiss you!”

Surprised, but pleasantly so, I leaned in, turned my cheek towards her as she gave me what has to be one of the sweetest kisses I have ever received!

She loved her church and this one who represented her church so much, she prayed for her church in such a way that she could not remain distant, aloof. With the heart of a nurse still beating inside of her, she wanted to demonstrate her love, up close and personally. With every bit of strength that she could muster, with all that she had, a pure and powerful love compelled her to sit up and lean forward, until she could come close enough to me to offer me a prayer through her touch, through a beautiful kiss on the cheek.

Marianna taught her children how to pray with words. But, perhaps, more importantly, she also taught them how to pray with her life, with all that she had.

I believe the Apostle Paul aptly describes Marianna’s life when he wrote that we should “pray without ceasing.” That is, we should live a life of prayer. We should live our lives as if we are always with the Holy One.

It was this prayerful life that Randy and Kerry said taught them the Christian values of love, kindness and respect. However, they were both quick to point out: “Now we are not saying that we have always conveyed to others these values or lived out these values like our mother! We are just saying that because of our mother, and because of what she taught us with her life, we have at least been blessed with the wonderful opportunity live those values.”

We then talked about her love for God’s entire creation, especially for her beloved horses. They will never forget the time they took her to say goodbye to one of her horses. As you can imagine, Marianna did not say not say goodbye with a simple wave through the car window. She got as close as she could possibly get to her horse, so the horse could feel her touch and know her love.

This is why I thought it was rather interesting that one of the memories that Randy and Kerry said they will always cherish was their mother reading them the Christmas story from Luke’s gospel every Christmas. They then talked about how important it was to them to sit at their mother’s bedside this past Christmas and read it to her:

         In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 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: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”  (Luke 2:8-14)

I find this interesting because the story of Christmas is essentially a story of a God who loved this world so much that God could not remain distant, aloof. God did not merely say to the heavenly host: “Let us pray for the creation. Let us pray for humanity.”

And of course, that in itself would have been enough. Because we believe in prayer. Marianna taught us to believe in prayer.

The writer to the Hebrews assures us that

[Christ] is able for all time to save those who approach God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them.” The writer is saying that Jesus lives to make intercession for us. In other words, Jesus lives today to pray for us (Hebrews 7:25).

The Apostle Paul in his letter to the Romans writes:

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that the very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.  And God who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God (Romans 8:26-27).

If we ever worry that no one is praying for us, the Apostle Paul says that we can stop worrying. If no one earth is praying for us, Jesus certainly is. Jesus is our High Priest. He is our intercessor. He is our advocate. Christ lives today to pray for us. Even when we don’t know how to pray for others or for ourselves, even when we cannot find the words to pray, Paul says that the Spirit of God intercedes for us with “sighs too deep for words.”

Yes, if all God did for us was pray for us, even from a distance, that would be enough.

However, the love of God, the love of God that was revealed to us through Marianna Powell, and through Christ Jesus himself, is so great, so pure, and so powerful, that there was no way in heaven that God could remain distant, aloof.

God’s love for us compelled God to summon all the strength God could muster, to summon all that God had to give. Love compelled God to sit up in the heavens, and lean towards the earth, until God could come close enough to us to offer us a prayer through the “up close and personal” touch of the Divine, through a baby—Christ the Good Lord, the Good Shepherd, the Good Teacher, the Good Nurse—lying in a manger.

This is how we who are grieving today can truly be filled with a peace beyond understanding. People are not only praying for us from a distance. People are indeed here, in this room, with us. And God is not praying for us from some aloof heavenly place. God is indeed Emmanuel, which means, “God with us.”

God is here with us as God is with Marianna, loving her, touching her, embracing her, now and forevermore.

I want to close my remarks thanking God for Marianna’s love for us and for the special way that she revealed God’s love for us with these beautiful words by Allison Chambers Coxsey, entitled: A Nurse’s Prayer.

Give me strength and wisdom,

When others need my touch;

A soothing word to speak to them,

Their hearts yearn for so much.

Give me joy and laughter,

To lift a weary soul;

Pour in me compassion,

To make the broken whole.

Give me gentle, healing hands,

For those left in my care;

A blessing to those who need me,

This is a Nurse’s prayer.

Don’t Mess with Barbara: Remembering Barbara Newton

barbara-newton
Visiting with Barbara one week before her funeral service.

Eulogy delivered for Barbara J Newton Friday, December 16, 2016

The first chapter of our Bible teaches us that in the beginning “God created humankind in God’s image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27).

Canadian Theology professor Douglas John Hall wrote that the “image of God” is not necessarily something we human beings have or possess, but more of something that we are created and called to do and to be. Imago Dei is not a noun. Imago Dei is a verb.

During our relatively short time on this earth, we are called to do what we can where we can to image God, to reflect God, to mirror God. That’s why we pray, “Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

And perhaps this is part of the reason that as a pastor and a preacher I have come to the conclusion that the only aspects of a person’s life that should be included in a person’s eulogy are those aspects of a person’s life that mirrors who or God is and how our God acts in the world.

Because of this, and unfortunately, because of the way some people live their lives on this earth, sometimes writing words of eulogy can be one of the most difficult tasks of a minister.

However, I have discovered that for most mothers, especially mothers like Barbara Newton, writing a Christian eulogy comes fairly easy.

For throughout the scriptures, God is oftentimes described as a mother.

In Deuteronomy 32:18 we read:

  You were unmindful of the Rock that bore you; you forgot the God who gave you birth.

Throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, God is portrayed as the mother of Israel. It is God who gave birth to the nation and loves Israel as a mother loves her child.

In the New Testament, it is obvious that Jesus understands this maternal love as he uses birth imagery to explain the gift of salvation, the gift of new life, abundant and eternal. Jesus told Nicodemus that if he wanted to truly experience life, he must be born anew, born from above.

And throughout the Church, baptismal waters have always been symbolic of the waters of the birthing process. The God that is portrayed throughout scripture is continually in labor. Always creating, recreating, working all things together for the good. Always giving life, abundant and eternal.

Fig, Kelly, and Chad, there is no doubt that part of the reason Barbara was such a wonderful human being was the way Barbara uniquely mirrored the motherly love of our heavenly parent. Her love was divine.

Now, I know what some of her immediate family are thinking: “Preacher, I don’t know about that. Mama loved us, but sometimes mama perhaps loved us to a fault.”

“Mama loved us so much, that if we were ever wronged or hurt by another, Mama was not the type to just let that go. The perfect title of her Eulogy might be: ‘Don’t…Mess with Barbara.’

So preacher, I am not so sure that I would describe her love as ‘divine love.’”

However, this is precisely how the holy scriptures describe it.

The prophets Hosea and Isaiah proclaimed a God, when it came to loving God’s children, you better not…mess with.

Hosea 13:8 reads:

I will fall upon them like a bear robbed of her cubs…  

In other words, thus saith the Lord, if anyone harms my children, if anything is done that causes pain and heartache to the ones that I love the most, you better believe that I am not letting that go!”

Isaiah 42:14 reads:

For a long time I have held my peace, I have kept still and restrained myself; now I will cry out like a woman in labor, I will gasp and pant.

Sound like anyone you know? And here is the good news for all of us who are grieving today.

Today, we are hurting. Today we are in pain. For death has wronged us. Barbara was too young and too good to suffer as I have seen her suffer since I have been her pastor.

And the good news is that our maternal God loves us so that God is not going let that go.

One day, Jesus and his followers encounter a funeral procession while traveling through the town of Nain.

He watches as a casket and a grieving family go by.

But because Jesus is God incarnate, the very image of our God, because Jesus loves with a divine, motherly love, Jesus can’t let it go.

The scriptures tell us that when he encounters this scene, he was moved with compassion. More specifically, he was moved very deeply.  The Greek word used here is a visceral verb. It means that Jesus was moved from deep within his inner bowels. Jesus has a visceral, gut wrenching reaction to that funeral procession. Jesus had this reaction, because Jesus loved. Some would say that he “loved to a fault.”

And Jesus’ deep compassion was for something more than the deceased. Jesus’ compassion was also for the living. Jesus recognized the tragedy of death.  Jesus recognized the pain and heart ache that this death had caused. Jesus recognized that it was not the will of God for any of God’s children to suffer like this. And because of his great love, Jesus is not going to let it go.

With great love and compassion, Jesus reaches out his hand and touches the casket and speaks to the one within it, “I say to you, get up!”  And then, listen to these wonderful words, “When the dead arose, Jesus ‘gave him back to his family.’” Isn’t that beautiful?  This young one’s life was restored, but so were the lives of the family.

Thus, Jesus demonstrates what our God is all about. God is and has always been about life. God is and has always been about bringing life, new life, abundant life, eternal life to God’s people.  In fact, giving life is the first, most important work that God does. For in the beginning, in the Genesis chapter one, we read that God breathed life into humanity.

Therefore, we have the certain hope that when Barbara breathed her last breath on this earth, God did not that go, but was there to breathe new, eternal life into her. And it is this hope that should also breathe new life and breathe peace into the lives of those of us who are grieving this day.

And we can rest assured that the divine motherly love of our God is not going to let our pain go today.

In Isaiah 66:12-13 we read:

For thus says the Lord; I will extend prosperity to her like a river, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall nurse and be carried on her arm, an dandled on her knees. As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.

The Psalmist declares:

Yet it was you who took me from the womb; you kept me safe on my mother’s breast.

And in Luke chapter 13, we read these beautiful words of Jesus:

Jerusalem, Jerusalem…  How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings…!

In Revelation 21 we read:

See, the home of God is among mortals, He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes.  Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.

Paul Smith, a pastor from Kansas City says, that here in the last book of the Bible, in John’s picture of eternal life, “We see God’s maternal presence doing something that almost every society understands as a mother’s delight.”  Someone once told me that there is nothing in the world that can wipe away tears better than a mother’s blouse, when she holds you tightly in her arms.

What a wonderful and hopeful joy to know that Barbara breathed her last breath on this earth…only to breathe her next breath in the arms of God, wiping away any tears that she may have shed. And God is also here to hold us, wiping away our tears.

God is not going to just let our tears go!

This is the hope for all of us who grieve this day. We look forward to the day when we, like Barbara, will be held in God’s arms, but until that day comes, we can find comfort in God’s church that has been commissioned with the mission of sharing the motherly love of God with all people. The good news is that God has graced each of us with friends and family, who like Barbara emulate our motherly God to care for us, especially when we are hurting.

And God, Emmanuel, God-with-us, is also here. God’s not letting our pain go. God is right here to wipe away every tear from our eyes. Until death is no more. Until mourning, crying and pain are no more.

Strength for the Lenten Journey

communion

After being affirmed by God on Mt. Carmel, Elijah found himself in a wilderness that was so bad, he did not know if he wanted to live or die.

1 Kings 19:3 reads: “Then he was afraid; he got up and fled for his life.” In verse three, it appears that he wants to live. He’s running from Jezebel to save his life.

Now, let’s look at the very next verse: “But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: ‘It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life…”

One day, he wants to live. The next day, he wants to die. Can you relate?

Elijah then fell asleep under that tree, but suddenly, an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.”  He looked and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. But the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey will be too much for you.”

“He got up and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.”

At times life can be so difficult, one day we want to live. The next day we are thinking that death might not be that bad of an option.

That is why, this Sunday, as I begin my forty day Lenten journey, I am going to eat and drink from a table with my family of faith. For if I do not, the journey in the wilderness of life will be too much for me.

Now, you might ask: How can one tiny, tasteless cracker, and one sip of juice give us sustenance for forty days and forty nights?

Last week’s scripture lesson took us to “the Mount of Transfiguration.” Before the disciples come back down into the wilderness of their lives, a voice came from heaven, saying: “This is my Son, the Chosen, listen to him.”

This is my Son, the Beloved, the Chosen, the one who has been tested and tempted and tried in the wilderness of life, listen to Him. Listen to the One who knows what it is like to be on the mountain top with God one day, only to be in Hell with the devil the next. Listen to the one who knows something about the ecstasy of being affirmed by God in the presence of God one day and to be famished in the middle of the desert the next day. Listen to the One who knows what it is like to be a human being living in a fragmented world.

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“Your sins are forgiven.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“Your faith has saved you, go in peace.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“Whoever drinks the water that I give him will never thirst.  Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“I am the bread of life.  He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“I am the good shepherd.  The good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.  I am the good shepherd.  I know my sheep and my sheep know me.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“Your brother will rise again.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Believe in God, believe also in me.  In my Father’s house are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go and prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and I will take you to myself, so that where I am, you will be also.”

Listen to the Christ as he says…

“You are my friend”

Listen to the Christ as he says:

“I am with you always, even until the end of the age.”

Listen to Christ as he says, “This is my body given to you. This is my blood shed for you.”

Some might still say: “It is just a tiny cracker and a sip of juice.”

But the good news is that we can go in the strength of that food for forty days and forty nights, or however long our journey in the wilderness might last.

Beloved Dust to Dust

Ash_Wednesday

As a little boy, when I would misbehave (notice I said “when” and not “if”), my mother would often call me “a piece of dirt.” Well, she actually called me “a sod.”  For example: “Whenever I said an ugly word she would say, “Why you little sod!  I’ve got a good mind to wash your mouth out with a bar of soap!”

And she was not always angry or even disappointed me when she would call me “dirt.” When (again “when” and not “if”) I played practical jokes on Mom, like that time I drove home from college my freshman year for Thanksgiving and greeted Mama at the front door with a big, fat, smoking cigar in my mouth: “Why you little sod!”

But here’s the thing: Mama always graciously let me know that I was her beloved sod.

What I never thought about though was how accurate Mama really was— physiologically and theologically. In the first creation story of Genesis we read that God formed us “from the dust of the ground and breathed into [our] nostrils the breath of life” (Genesis 2:7). And in the second creation story we read that we have life “until [we] return to the ground, for out of it [we] were taken; [we] are dust, and to dust, [we] shall return” (Genesis 3:19). The Psalmist also declares that when our breath is taken away we die and return to dust (Psalm 104:29).

Lent is a time of reminding all of us that we are just a bunch of little sods. It is a time of reminding us of our mortality. It is also a time of reminding us that, because of our earthiness, none of us are above reproach. The Apostle Paul asserts that because of our lowliness, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).

I often hear people say, “Love the sinner and hate the sin.” I have always had problems with this, for it implies that the sinner is somehow separated from the sin. Sin is understood as specific action that can be avoided instead of an integral part of our earthly DNA.

The Jewish people once believed that sin could be avoided if 613 laws were obeyed. Not only is that a formidable task for any human, I believe Jesus would say that even if one obeyed all 613 laws, they would not be any less of a sinner than the one who broke every one.

I believe this is why Jesus said that those who have lust in their heart are just as sinful as those who commit adultery (Matthew 5:27-30). This is also why the Bible-believing, religious people of Jesus’ day dropped their stones before the woman “caught in the act of adultery” when Jesus said, “Let those without sin cast the first stone” (John 8:7).

The good news is, as the Apostle Paul wrote to the church at Rome, though our sin was serious, in Christ, “grace abounded.” We could not do right by God, so God, through the love revealed in Christ, did right by us.

And one day, when we our lives come to an end and our bodies return to this earth as dust, we have the hope in Christ that we are God’s beloved dust, and God’s grace will continue to abound.

This Wednesday is Ash Wednesday. It is the first day of Lent: the day Christians mark themselves with ashes, or dust, reminding ourselves of our mortality and our sinfulness. We remember that we are dust, but we are God’s beloved dust. We are sods, but we are God’s beloved sods.

Ash Wednesday is important, for it is only until we understand that we are all sods—imperfect, limited sinners saved by grace—that we can begin to live as God has created us to live, by loving others as God loves us: with abundant mercy and boundless grace; forgiving, accepting and including others as God forgives, accepts and includes us.

Keeping the Way of the Young Pure

support-process-sc370x200-t1360346453-2Psalm 119:1-9 NRSV

He was a poor, pitiful thing. His mother was in labor for nearly a week before he was finally born. His head, so severely malformed from the length of the labor, worried his parents who took him to several specialists for testing.

When he was five years old, public schools had just integrated. And because his parents thought he might have some special needs, they felt it was best for him to attend a small, private kindergarten. His young teachers didn’t seem to be too alarmed that he was the only one in class who could not speak any intelligible words, telling his parents that they just had to learn a new vocabulary to communicate with him.

“Duh-ee” meant he was “thirsty.” “Uh-ee” met he was “hungry.” And “wuh-ee,” meant he was “sleepy.”

Although his parents considered holding him back for another year of kindergarten, they reluctantly enrolled him in a public school the next year. They also worried about the “colored people” who they believed were still “stirring things up” three years after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr.

His first grade teachers, Mrs. Banks and Mrs. Tomlin, immediately noticed his developmental delay and called a meeting with his parents, the school nurse, and a speech therapist.

The nurse said that it was obvious that the little boy was literally “tongue-tied.”  He was born with extra tissue under his tongue that had attached his tongue to the bottom of his mouth limiting movement. The little fella would need surgery.

Immediately following the procedure, his teachers called his parents to check on him. For you see, teaching was not just their job. It was their passion.

The little boy soon started speech therapy that was fully funded through the school, that he would continue until junior high.

He missed several hours of class a week for speech therapy, but each of his teachers—Mrs. Green in the second grade, Mrs. Price in the third, Mr. Riggs in the fourth, Mrs. Jones in the fifth, and Mrs. Welch in the sixth—would spend extra time with him to make sure he never lagged behind.

And because of their compassionate determination, although he could not speak one intelligible word when he entered the first grade and took speech therapy until the seventh grade, he never failed a grade. In fact, he would graduate from high school as one of the youngest students in his class.

By the time he entered high school, two teachers in particular noticed that years of struggling to speak had left him with a very low self-esteem. Mr. Godfrey, a P.E. teacher and coach, and Mr. Casey, a math teacher, coach, and Scout leader, donated even more of their time offering a basketball camp. They asked the boy to attend.

He loved it! As his skills improved, so did his confidence.

Every camper was encouraged to try out for the JV squad, which the boy did. He made the first but, but failed to make the final cut. A few days later, Mrs. Snowden, his history teacher, who also donated her time after school directing school plays and musicals, asked to speak with him after class.

It was if she noticed that he did not make the basketball team, when she asked him: “Have you ever considered joining the drama club?”

“The shy little boy shook his head and said, “No, but I will.”

While he was in tenth grade, he took Mrs. Snowden’s drama class where he was asked to read various lines of a play. Not only did he have trouble reading with any expression, he constantly struggled to pronounce certain words. Yet, Mrs. Snowden persisted.

In the eleventh-grade, she asked him to audition for a play. And to his surprise, she cast him in one of the lead roles of a western comedy entitled, Blazing Guns at Roaring Gulch. His character was Bill Filbert, a very funny, bumbling, fumbling character that stumbled and stuttered his words. I suppose she thought that if he mispronounced anything on stage, the audience will just assume he was “in character.”

Well, something happened to him when he stepped onto that stage for the first time as Bill Filbert. After he recited his first comedic line and heard the audience respond with a roar of laughter, this light suddenly came on. A strange yet euphoric confidence flooded every part of his being, and the young man stole the show; at least that’s how he felt when he returned to school the next day, when all of his teachers sought him out and praised him:

Mr. Corbett, Mrs. Corbett, Mr. Short, Mr. Lewellan, Mrs. Tice, Mr. Newbern, Mrs. Newbern, Mrs. Casey, Mr. Griffiths, Mr. Gregory, Mrs. Acker, Mr. Cowan, Mrs. Cowan, Mr. Williams and many more.

That weekend, he saw teachers from Junior High: Mr. Bohannon, Mrs. Lindsay, Mr. Templeton, and Mrs. Wellons. Each congratulated him on his fine performance.

And you know rest of the story.

The little boy who couldn’t articulate a single word in the first grade now makes his living speaking before a congregation in Enid, Oklahoma. And although he has this almost foreign, southern accent, and still mispronounces a word every now and again, even names of some of the congregants, a few folks keep showing up Sunday after Sunday to listen to speak.

All because public school teachers lived out Psalm 119:9, by guarding my life, keeping my way pure, in other words: clearing the way, offering me an equal opportunity to succeed.

With 176 verses, Psalm 119 is the longest chapter in the entire Bible. It uses repetition and the Hebrew Alphabet, two tried and true teaching methods, to teach an important lesson about the importance of “walking in the law of the Lord.”

And what is the law of the Lord?

Well, because we are Christian, we look to Jesus for that answer.

Jesus, who was often called “Teacher,” taught that the entire law of God can be summed up in two laws: “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” The Good Teacher, and the prophets before him, also taught that at the heart of it was caring for our most vulnerable neighbors: the least, the poor, the widow, the orphan, and of course, children.

You want to know how a shy, nearly non-verbal child, can grow up to make a living as a public speaker?

Because someone guarded his life, kept his way pure, according to what is at the heart of law of God.

And here’s another question: If at the heart of the law of God is guarding the way of the our most vulnerable neighbors, which includes our young, why are our school teachers among the least paid professionals in our state?

This week this guy told the Super Bowl would make a great sermon illustration.

I said, “What do you mean?”

He said: “Man, I’m talking about Tom Brady! He never gave up! He kept persisting, kept fighting until victory was at hand.”

I replied: “If I am going to talk about the Super Bowl, I am think I am going to ask why our society values professional athletes and the likes of Lady Ga Ga more than we value teachers?

“Something is wrong when entertainers are the highest paid professionals and educators are the lowest paid. Are those who entertain us really worth more to us than those who care for the most vulnerable among us?”

And why do so many seem to be perfectly okay with taking money away from schools who serve every child of every race, creed, color, and class to fund schools that are more segregated and religiously isolated?

Is it possible, that as a whole, we’ve decided to ignore the Word of God. Or, as I suggested last week, we’ve decided to completely replace it with a sweeter version?

The way we value our public school teachers, many who go way beyond what is expected to help give a child a chance, is sin, plain and simple. It is against the very heart of the law of God.

A re-writing of our scripture lesson that might be most appropriate for us today might go like this:

Cursed are those who are guilty for failing to walk in the law of the Lord.

God, you have commanded that your laws be kept diligently, but we have chosen to value entertainers over educators, greed over the gospel, sin over your statutes, and self-interest over equal opportunity.

We are put to shame. Our eyes are blind to your commandments.

Discounting your righteous ordinances, O Lord, we curse you with our injustice.

So what can we expect?

But to curse the way, the future, of our young,

By ignoring them against your word.

What must we do as a church to turn this around, to guard and to make the way pure for our young?

We can continue to support our Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts and organizations like Youth and Family Services. We can continue to collect school supplies in August and coats in December. But we can also do more.

Shannon, John and I are a part of a group called Pastors for Oklahoma Kids who suggest the following:

We must recognize that education improvement and reform is necessary…in order to properly fund and resource our teachers, schools, and students. But we should reject the false notion that schools are “failing” or not caring for our students. We [must] urge a halt to the demonization of public schools and to anti-public school rhetoric.

We [must understand] free public education is a moral good [it is at the heart of the law of God], that is vital to [Oklahoma’s] well being and requires adequate investment to ensure thriving communities.

We [must] believe public school children are God’s children who deserve the nurture of a good society, the prospect for a good education and the equal opportunity for a good life.

[As a congregation committed to the principle of the separation of church and state, we must work to] to keep public schools free from coercive pressure to promote any sectarian faith.

We must not allow free public education…[to become] a marketplace of financial gain for the few… [And we must] stand to end to this profiteering of Oklahoma’s most vulnerable.

We [must] resolve to be committed to a just society…to ensure that every child has an opportunity for a good education and that public schools have the resources necessary to provide such an opportunity, achieving the highest standards possible.

[We must] pray for public schools;

[We must] show our support for public schools through worship services that affirm all school-related personnel;

[At the same time we must] advocate for a high wall of separation between church and state that is critical to good public education…

[We must] challenge [all voices, but especially those] religious voices who demonize public education.

And finally, we must spread the word that standing up for our most vulnerable citizens is at the very heart of the supreme law of God, and failing to do so is sin, pure and simple.

And maybe that guy had a point regarding the Super Bowl:

“We need to be like Tom Brady and never give up. We need to keep persisting, keep fighting, until victory is at hand.”


For more information please go to: Pastors for Oklahoma Kids

Being an Artist with One’s Life: Remembering R. Arlen “Whitey” White

whitie

Arlen, or “Whitey,” was a gifted artist. After submitting several paintings, he was immediately accepted into the Art School at Phillips University. After school, he worked for Ray Sears, and later, established his own painting business. Whitey’s special gift, his meticulous attentiveness to detail, the pride that he took in his work, and his kindness and professionalism soon became renowned throughout the area, and he was given the distinct pleasure of painting some of Enid’s most beautiful homes, offices and businesses.

Whitey loved doing new and innovative things with paint. He could mix and match colors brilliantly with the specific purpose of creating something beautiful, or more specifically, taking something and making it more beautiful, completely transforming it.

Many of us here today are the recipients of Whitey’s gift, or we have at least have seen his artistry.

But today, as we thank God for his life, I would like for us to consider his artistic achievement that I believe is much more important than his painting, for it seems clear to me that Arlen used much more than the stroke of a brush to transform this world. Whitey was an artist with his life.

The Rev. Charles Hoffacker, author of A Matter of Life and Death suggests being an artist with one’s life means that “you take the material available to you—days and years, relationships, opportunities—and you make something out of them, something with its own integrity and truth, a [beautiful] creation that others can appreciate and be enriched by…the artist, working on the material of his life, thus demonstrates a measure of hope, a deep confidence that this beautiful world can become more beautiful still.”

The good news that we celebrate today is that Whitey was much more than a gifted artist with a brush and some paint. Whitey was a magnificent artist with his life. Whitey used the gifts that God had given him to do his part in transforming the world.

After God, the Supreme Artist, fashioned the good masterpiece called the earth, the Bible teaches us that God formed male and female in God’s own image, in the image of God, God created them.

I believe that means the vocation of every man and woman is to create, to fashion, to form, and transform, to be an artist with our very lives, using the resources that have been given to us by the Artisan of the Universe to make this world even more beautiful.

This, I believe this is the way and the truth and the life: the holy purpose for every person.

And as a Christian, I believe, as Whitey believed, that the way, the truth, and the life, our holy purpose can be found through following Jesus.

Not by merely going to church every Sunday worshipping Jesus, not by attending weekly Bible Study studying Jesus, but by following Jesus, by doing the things that he did, by going to the places that Jesus went.

And Jesus was, himself, a painter.

What? You thought he was just a carpenter? Nope. Jesus was a painter.

In fact, Jesus began his very first sermon by painting. With the beautiful words that we call “the Beatitudes,” Jesus painted a portrait of how this world should be completely transformed, making his Father’s creation even more beautiful.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

This is how I want you to use your gifts to transform the world, says Jesus: bless those, help those, favor those, love those, who are not only poor financially, but poor spiritually, those who scrapping the bottom of the barrel but are also at the end of their rope, those whose very souls are bankrupt due to the loss of a job, or bad decisions made, or by the stigmatized disease of addiction.

Because Whitey owned his own business, he had the resources available to him to help those who found themselves in desperate need of a job. Because he was a follower of Christ, Whitey blessed so many in this community, perhaps some of you who are here today, who came to him when you were completely broke and broken; or more likely, he came to you. He came to you, not judging you, but showing you a portrait of better, transformed future. Whitey came came to showing you the very kingdom of God.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

         Velma, I know this is a very difficult day for you, but as I told you on Wednesday, the tears that you shed only mean that you are grieving the loss of a beautiful gift to you from God, the gift of someone who was lovingly devoted to you for 67 years. And the only way not to mourn today is to have never received that gift.

So, every time you feel a tear roll down your face, you can thank God for those tears. You can thank God for your grief. With your family, thank God for the gift of God that was your beautiful marriage. And through your gratitude, I believe you and all who are mourning this day will receive comfort.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Jesus says, paint a portrait of the world where the meekest among us always know that they are loved they have a place in this world.

Whitey painted this portrait with his love and deeds to children, his children certainly, but also other children as he enjoyed coaching little league football and supporting high school athletics, hardly ever missing a Plainsman football game.

His heart broke when his only son Rick, who he was always so proud of, passed away. Toni, you were “daddy’s girl.” and you will always cherish the special bond you shared and the many unforgettable memories from your childhood: all of those cross country vacations camping in the Redwood Forest and in our many of our great national parks.

And Whitey painted a portrait where the meek are always blessed as he adored his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, doing whatever he could do to make every day special, like he did every Christmas playing Santa and artistically wrapping the most beautiful gifts.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled.

Whitey painted a portrait of a world where the poor and the poor in spirit are helped, those who mourn are comforted and the meek are blessed, but he also painted a portrait of a world that encouraged personal responsibility.

Arlen’s incredible work ethic grew out of the depression era. He was only nine or ten years-old when he worked riding a bicycle on a paper route to help support his family.

Whitey painted a beautiful portrait of the blessings that come from thirsting to be trustworthy and by hungering to be dependable. And because of this portrait, his life was full. And the lives of those who knew him have been filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Whitey’s portrait of dependability and trustworthiness not only filled the lives of his friends and family, and many customers, it also touched the lives of complete strangers, because in every one of Whitey’s life portraits, the colors of mercy were always present.

One day, while driving to Bass Construction Company, Whitey saw the car in the front of him suddenly swerve, run up on the curb, stopping in some bushes. Whitey drove up beside the car and noticed a man, slumped over. Although he was no EMT and had no CPR training, Whitey jumped out of his car and into in the passenger seat of that man’s car and began administering CPR, until Bob Berry from Bass ran over to help get the man who was having a massive heart attack to the hospital.

Later, the Enid police department presented Whitey with an award for saving that man’s life.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

God, the Supreme Artisan created Arlen, as he created each of us, that we may creatively make this world a better place.

Arlen did this by answering the call to follow Jesus. Arlen was not perfect. No one is. But his motives were pure. With genuine kindness with, purity of heart, Whitey used his gifts to follow the Christ to the best of his ability. The portrait of his life is the example for all of us, each one of us.

Whitey would want me to extend an invitation to each of you here to speak with me anytime after this service about what it means to follow Jesus in this life, to use the gifts that we have been given by God to transform this world with pure colors of mercy, grace and love, and to have the hope that when our painting is completed here, we will see God.

As, now, through the power of resurrection, the Master Artisan beckons Whitey on to a new, transformed life where I believe God and Whitey will continue painting together.

In the very presence of God, I believe he is even more creative than ever before.

There Bob will discover, much to his delight, that the faithful life he lived on this earth was but the primer. It was just the first coat.

As Hoffacker wrote about an artist who was faithful until death: “Now [God’s] gift to him is all the color he needs to make his new life brilliant with praise.”

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

And because of this beautiful portrait, a portrait of a transformed Whitey painting colors of praise in the very presence of God, as God’s beloved children, we can have some peace today, a peace that is even beyond our understanding.

And having received that peace today, may each of us, go out from this place, and, like the famous Sherwin Williams’ logo, do what Whitey did, “cover” this world with peace, until that day comes when we are all reunited with him as God’s beloved children. Amen

Alternative Gospel

new-coke

Isaiah 58 NRSV

It’s good times in Atlanta, Georgia today. But times have not always been good. I want to begin this morning with a story from some of the darkest days of what is perhaps Atlanta’s most famous corporation.

Some of you remember when the Coca-Cola Company made the unfortunate decision to change the formula of its flagship soft drink introducing “New Coke” back in 1985.

What prompted the change in formula were these “blind taste tests” that revealed consumers preferred the sweeter taste of Pepsi over Coke.

Coke sales were down, so these geniuses went to work and “New Coke” was born to completely replace the original Coke.

It wasn’t long, though, before the public rose up and demanded to bring back the original formula, or what became known as Classic Coke.

And even Bill Cosby (who still had his clout in 1985) and a cartoon named Max Headroom could not prevent one of the largest marketing failures in world history.

I am not sure when this exact thing happened to the original Word of God that was fully revealed by our Lord and announced by the prophets before him, but it happened. It’s like someone, or some group did some sort of blind taste test that revealed that people preferred a faith that had a much sweeter taste. Perhaps it happened in the very beginning, when Adam and Eve chose the sweetness of that forbidden fruit, choosing to live in the creation of their terms, instead of on God’s terms.

So these geniuses went to work, and this brand new faith was born to completely replace the original faith—to make it sweeter, more palatable, more drinkable.

However, unlike New Coke, the general public did not rise up and demand to bring back the original formula, or what we might call “classic faith.” In fact, most seem to prefer the re-imagined, re-engineered, and re-manufactured faith.

So, one might argue that the reformulation of this “new” gospel has been the largest marketing success in world history. It has been so successful in North America that the majority of folks believe that this new sweeter gospel is actually the “classic gospel.”

For example, a recent survey by Bill McKibben reveals that three-quarters of Americans believe the Bible teaches that “God helps those who help themselves.” However, that statement is from Benjamin Franklin, a Deist, which means he did not even believe God was working in the world. It is not from the Bible. “God helps those who help themselves” is in fact one of the most unbiblical ideas. It is Jesus who made the dramatic counter-assertion: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

But, we prefer Ben Franklin don’t we? Easier to swallow. Taste sweeter. And it doesn’t sound so foolish.

But the Apostle Paul warned us that the wisdom of God is understood as “foolishness” to the world.

But we in the world don’t like to be foolish, do we? So we’ve embraced this new, sweeter, less foolish formula.

We’ve replaced “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” with: “Do unto others as they do unto you.”

We’ve replaced “Turn the other cheek” with: “When somebody hits you, you hit back harder.”

“Love your enemies” has become: “Love the deserving.”

The simple commands to “feed the hungry” and “clothe the naked” have become the more qualified, conditional, yet sweeter commands to: “feed and clothe those who will pray with you, or at least attend a Bible Study or a worship service with you. Feed and clothe others, but give preferential treatment to those who share your faith.”

We’ve replaced “The last shall be first and the first shall be last” with “We must look out for number one.”

“Love keeps no account of wrongdoing” has been replaced with “love the sinner but hate the sin” (and of course everyone knows to hate the sin we just have to keep account of that sin).

“For whosoever welcomes little children welcomes me” has been replaced by “children should be seen and not heard, especially in a worship service.”

“Welcome the stranger” has been replaced with “It’s always best to err on the side of safety.”

We’ve replaced “In Christ there is no longer Jew nor Greek” with “Oh, there is most definitely ‘us’ and ‘them’” (and there’s way too many of them).

There is “neither slave nor free” has be replaced with “the free should have the religious liberty to treat others as second-class.”

There is “no longer Male nor Female” and other verses that elevate women like “Wives and husbands should submit to one another out of reverence for Christ” has been replaced with “Somebody needs to man up and wear the pants in the family.”

Ashamed of the gospel, we’ve replaced it with something sweeter to the taste, something more popular to the culture, more drinkable to the majority, and less foolish to our friends and family.

And we wonder why the world grows ever darker.

What we need today is for someone to rise up and demand to bring back the original formula, the original faith of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Moses and Prophets, the classic, old-time religion of Jesus and the Apostles. This country needs someone to stand up for the the true, indisputable, irrefutable Word of God.

We need someone like Isaiah, the prophet Jesus quoted the most, to stand up and shout out and hold nothing back! We need someone to lift up their voice like a trumpet and announce to the people their rebellion. We need for someone to call it out for the sin that it is. We need someone to tell the God’s honest truth: “The church has been conned. The people have been played. The clergy duped. They have been seduced into accepting an alternative faith, a fake-news that is nothing like the original good news.”

Hear again these words from Isaiah (I am reading from the contemporary Message translation):

They’re busy, busy, busy at worship, and love studying all about me.

Sound familiar? Of course it does. It’s the the sweeter gospel, it’s more-pleasing church. But when did Jesus ever say, “Worship me, study me?”

He never said that. That’s Alternative Jesus. That’s fake-news Jesus. True Jesus, Original Jesus, Classic Jesus never said, “study me or worship me.” No, he said something much more radical. He said, “follow me.” And not only “follow me,” but “deny yourself and take up your cross and follow me.”

Isaiah continues:

To all appearances they’re a nation of right-living people—law-abiding, God-honoring. They ask me, ‘What’s the right thing to do?’ and love having me on their side.

We certainly do, don’t we? We love saying: “one nation under God.” We love singing: “God bless America.” And we love having: “In God We Trust” on our money and the Ten Commandments in our courts.

Isaiah keeps preaching:

But they also complain…

Oh boy, do we complain! We whine in the darkness. We blame, and we scapegoat. It’s us verses them.

So rise up and preach it Isaiah. Stand up! Shout out! Hold nothing back!

Why do we fast and you don’t look our way? Why do we humble ourselves and you don’t even notice?

Why is the nation so divided? Why is the church struggling to survive? Why is the world so dark?

Well, here’s why [says the Lord]: The bottom line on your ‘fast days’ is profit.

In other words, your worship is more concerned with bringing in money than bringing in the lost. Or as Jesus said, “the house of prayer has become a den of thieves.”

You drive your employees much too hard. [You are against fair wages.]

You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight. You fast, but you swing a mean fist.

You worship, you attend Sunday School, you might even teach Sunday School, but you gossip, and you tear others down. You go to church, but you say things and do things that do not build up the church.

So the kind of fasting you do won’t get your prayers off the ground.

Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after: a day to show off humility?

To put on a pious long face and parade around solemnly in black?

Do you call that fasting, a fast day that I, God, would like?

This is the kind of fast day I’m after: to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace, free the oppressed, cancel debts.

What I’m interested in seeing you do is: sharing your food with the hungry, inviting the homeless poor into your homes, putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad…

With absolutely no strings attached, especially religious strings!

But God, this doesn’t have a sweet taste at all. This is just foolish. We prefer something easier to drink, another formula, a new faith. Might we just remember, study the classic faith? Read about the original covenant? Must we actually do it?

Yet, when we look around at our world, all is so very dark. Everything seems to be headed in the wrong direction. The road before us is so uncertain. Something must change.

Then, don’t just remember this or study this, says the Lord.

Do this, [do this and the good news is:] the lights will turn on, and your lives will turn around at once. Your righteousness will pave your way. The God of glory will secure your passage. Then when you pray, God will answer. You’ll call out for help and I’ll say, ‘Here I am.’

Do you really want to bring light to the darkness? Then do this:

Get rid of unfair practices… [Get rid of this new gospel created by selfish, sinful minds that send the poor away empty.]

Quit blaming victims, quit gossiping about other people’s sins. Be generous with the hungry and start giving yourselves to the down-and-out.

And then your lives will begin to glow in the darkness, your shadowed lives will be bathed in sunlight. I will always show you where to go. I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places—firm muscles, strong bones.

You’ll be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations from out of your past.

You’ll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again.

The answer to the cries of this world is right here. It is the original covenant. It is the classic faith. It is the true gospel. It is the irrefutable, indisputable Word of God. And we need to rise up and demand to bring it back.

Sewing Love: Remembering Bernice Crandall

bernice-crandall

As a pastor, I have learned along the way that the only words that are truly appropriate for a Christian Eulogy are words that speak to the ways the person whose life is being remembered actually mirrored or imaged God and the good news of the gospel.

Because in the end, when it is all said and done, it really doesn’t matter how much money we made, nor how many businesses we created, nor how many buildings we built.

The only thing that truly matters is that we somehow fulfilled our human vocation, our holy purpose on this earth, that I believe is revealed in the very first chapter of our Bible: “So God created humankind in God’s image, in the image of God God created them; male and female God created them” (Genesis 1:27).

In the end, what truly matters is how we as human beings imaged God, mirrored God, thus proclaiming to the world with our lives who our God is, how our God acts, and what our God desires.

When Shannon and I visited with Bernice this past Saturday, the day before she died, her children handed me a tiny slip of paper with words that were read at Bernice and Eugene’s wedding ceremony in 1942 in Fullerton California.

I’ll be loving you, always;

With a love that’s true, always.

When the things you’ve planned,

Need a helping hand,

I will understand, always.

Days may not be fair, always;

That’s when I’ll be there, always.

Not for just an hour,

Not for just a day,

Not for just a year,

But, always.

As her family lovingly gathered around her bedside that day, I had the wonderful opportunity to read those words to Bernice once more and to tell her that as she and Eugene were always there for one another and for their children, God, would always be there for her.

In fact, I said that the Bible often likens the relationship that God has with us to the relationship of a married couple. God loves us with the same personal, intimate, covenantal love that is expressed in the sacred vows of marriage.

And this love is not a mere sentiment. It is more than a feeling. It’s greater than an emotion. Think about it, no where in a marriage ceremony does the minister ever ask the question, “Are you in love with one another?” But always, “Will you love one another?” This love is a commitment, a dedication, a promise, a special covenant to always be there for one another, always, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, not just for an hour, not just for a day, not just for a year, but always.

This is how Bernice’s children will always remember their mother. They will forever be grateful that she was always there for them, for the way that she was always loving them.

When I asked Lavona and Jana to give me an example of how Bernice was always there for them, the first thing that came to their mind is how Bernice, with her own hands and a sewing kit, would make dresses and clothes for them to wear to school and to church.

I think it is a shame that this art of sewing clothes for children is slowly dying out with Bernice’s generation. Because this art, this wonderful act of love, is the very first way that our God demonstrated that for better or worse, God would always be there for God’s children.

Again, in the very first chapters of our Bible, we read that when Adam and Eve heard God walking through the garden at the time of the evening breeze, they hid themselves in the trees, for they realized that they were unclothed before God. All of their sins were exposed. They were ashamed of what they had done, embarrassed of who they had become.

But the good news is, good news that we oftentimes miss when we read this story, although Adam and Eve ate the fruit that was forbidden, although they decided to live in God’ s creation on their terms instead of on God’s terms, although they were naked, all of their sins laid bare, the Lord God, with God’s own hands makes garments of skin for the couple and clothed them.

And of course, like Bernice, God was clothing them with something more than garments. God was clothing them with love. God was covering them with grace. God was clothing them with the promise that although they would have to leave the garden of Eden as the consequence for their sins, God would never leave them. God was clothing them with the dedication that although the days may not be fair always, God would be there for them, always.

And this is the reason that we are able to celebrate today with so much hope, for better or worse, even in a chapel of an old cemetery. This is the reason that even a grieving family who has suddenly lost two sisters can be grateful.

The good news that that even when we have to leave this earth, God is still there for us. God will never leave us nor forsake us.

As the Apostle Paul boldly proclaimed, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

And because of this divine truth, this holy truth that Bernice taught us with her life, a chapel in the middle of an old cemetery in Enid, Oklahoma can suddenly begin to feel like a wedding chapel in Fullerton California, full of hope, love and promise.

For through remembering Bernice’s steadfast love and abiding presence, through celebrating the wonderful way that she fulfilled her human vocation my imaging her creator, we are reminded that God will be there always, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and the good news is, that with God, not even death will depart us.