Category: Sermons Year A

A Politically-Correct Gospel

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Guest Bloggers, Sermons Year ALeave a comment

Shannon

The following sermon was preached by Rev. Shannon Fleck at the Installation Service of Jarrett Banks as the 25th Senior Minister of First Christian Church in Fort Smith. 

Matthew 22:15-22 NRSV

  • Good morning everyone! I want to preface this morning by saying that I am not the usual occupant of this pulpit. So if you are visiting this morning and you hate it, come back next and hear Jarrett before making that decision. If you love what you hear today, come back next week also because he and I are kind of cut from the same theological cloth.

 

  • It is my intention to get a little real with you today. Because the world we live in could use a little more real. A little less side stepping. A little less “fake news”. A little less politically correct. I hope you don’t mind.

 

  • For sixteen blissful, easy breezy, smooth sailing months Jarrett and I served in ministry as a team in Enid, OK. And by easy breezy, I mean the hardest experience in ministry either one of us has ever faced. Those 16 months united the two of us as a team more so than any ministers I had ever seen.

 

  • And I tell you this only to qualify myself to you all as ready and willing to stand here on his behalf, alongside him as he makes promises to you all, his new congregation… and you make promises to him.

 

  • Ministry is hard. Ministry is especially hard in a world where religion has been used to repeatedly cause traumatic injury to God’s children for centuries. As a minister, one walks a consistent line of being “pastor” to those who have been hurt and those who have committed the hurting.

 

  • Living always in a dichotomy of another’s religious priorities versus your own, and inevitably, always letting someone down for not “doing faith” exactly as they see fit.

 

  • So friends, heeding to the promises exchanged here today will at times be easy and at times a challenge. But a minister’s heart and mind is constantly living in multiple places in order to be present with all of you;

 

  • You’re ALWAYS a minister. It is not an occupation that you do, it is a call you live every day, in every interaction.

 

  • I mean, one of the first questions one has upon meeting someone is asking what they do for a living, right? Ministers dread this question, because the minute we tell someone, we are immediately sentenced to carry whatever religious opinion, or guilt, or shame, or praise (maybe) they have.

 

  • Ministry is so very hard.

 

  • I know this person, as all of you will, if you don’t already. And he knows as well as I that there are things that pastors will always want to say that they probably never should, but a guest pastor can.

 

  • Like say, talk about politics from the pulpit.

 

  • This has been a spoken and unspoken no-no for ministers and preachers of the gospel for what seems like an eternity, erring on the side of caution, rather than offending the occupants of our pews. Ministers have been cautioned using the most emphatic of deterrents, fear.

 

  • So, imagine my quandary when today’s text appeared before me as the lectionary gospel for this week. A text that unashamadely places issues of religion and politics fully front and center. Crammed together. Not uncomfortably, like an awkward interaction with a relative at Thanksgiving, but as a matter of fact….

 

  • Any person who claims that religion and politics don’t mix, clearly missed today’s Gospel lesson.

 

  • It is important to note that Jesus, does not provide religious absolution from political and government involvement, we are going to have to pay those taxes.

 

  • But he makes the important distinction that loyalty to such things should only go so far as our complete and moral love of God will let us. So as we seek to give to Caesar what is caesars and to God what is God’s, we must remember that each and every being is God’s, and our loyalty is to what belongs to God first.

 

  • Now as I begin to wonder if some want to shift in their seats a bit I have to say that it’s understandable really, our desire to keep these topics out of the forefront of our most comfortable settings. Our relationships, our families, our sanctuaries. We do not want to be uncomfortable. There is nothing safe about that.

 

  • But in this effort to bifurcate the gospel from the reality of the political systems that influence our lives, we have done a disservice to that all important notion of Christian call.

 

  • And most importantly, we have left faith vulnerable and isolated. Up on the auction block to the highest bidder.

 

  • The bible has been contorted so many times to fit the comfort level of the powerful. Pushed, twisted, and breached more times than we can count.

 

  • What is politically correct about that?

 

  • Well church, if you wanted a pastor who would succumb to the fear of offending you… you hired the wrong guy.

 

  • Because this man that you just exchanged promises with, knows the politically correct work of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And most importantly, he knows all about its unpopularity amongst the masses.

 

  • He is not concerned about comfort, least of all his own, he is concerned about living in the messy, abundant, unapologetic love of Christ with all people.

 

  • He is not one who will, as a friend of mine says, give you baby food from the pulpit, but sustenance for the journey.

 

  • He will ask from you all that makes you comfortable so that it can be stretched and extended into a grace filled life you may not had known was possible. But it will take trust on all your parts to change this world, and a willingness to stand up tall for what is hard.

 

  • That is a politically correct Gospel.

 

  • And in case you might need some real-world examples of a politically correct gospel, let me see if I can come up with a few.

 

  • When a terrorist, no matter the color of their skin, rings shots out through the streets or schools of America, the church should be prepared to offer a call to action against such disasters. Remaining silent is not an option.

 

 

  • When thousands upon thousands of women cry out “me too” on social media, the church of Jesus better stand in support of the endless victims of assault, harassment, and violence. Remaining silent is not an option.

 

 

  • When yet another person of color is gunned down by those sworn to protect and serve with nothing to show for it but another acquittal. Remaining silent is not an option.

 

 

  • When individuals are hated, ostracized, belittled, stripped of rights and protections, or disowned because of who they love. Remaining silent is not an option.

 

  • When the hurting, disabled, and abused are brushed aside, not even to be seen or heard. Remaining silent is not an option.

 

 

  • When white supremacists once again feel the safety to come out of their holes of hiding and not be held accountable by modern day “caesars”. Remaining silent is not an option.

 

  • When events like taking a knee become more important than providing aid to devastated storm victims, remaining silent is not an option.

 

  • When public education is devalued, politicized, and underfunded; when immigrants and refugees are locked out and shoved out of a better life; when Christians use their religious privilege to demean and degrade other religions… we absolutely cannot remain silent.

 

 

 

  • The idea that the Gospel isn’t political is offensive, because it refutes everything Jesus stood for and died for.

 

  • This gospel is a moving, emphatic, provocative, unshakeable political statement against a world that wants nothing to do with the unrestricted love God

 

  • I cannot help but congratulate you all on your choice of pastor.

 

  • Jarrett has had a journey out of a denomination that did not fit his need to practice a politically correct Gospel and into one that fits him like a glove.

 

  • His immense and humble gratitude for the opportunity to genuinely serve in context that is ready and willing to move and shake a world with unrestricted, unapologetic and immovable love radiates in his passion for the work of Christ.

 

  • Congratulations to you all. Now it’s time to get to work.

 

About Shannon

The Rev. Shannon Fleck currently serves as the Director of Community Engagement with the Oklahoma Conference of Churches, where she focuses on Community Organizing, Social Justice and Interfaith ministries.

Rev. Fleck is a native of the State of Oklahoma, spending her childhood with her family in Guthrie. Rev. Fleck attended the University of Central Oklahoma in Edmond, OK, where she received a Bachelor of Arts in Sociology. After working for the State of Oklahoma for two years in Juvenile Justice, she began seminary at Phillips Theological Seminary in Tulsa, OK where she was the Matthew Thompson Fellow, Student Senate Moderator, and the recipient of the Sojourner Award, the Interpreter’s Award and multiple book awards. Rev. Fleck was Ordained by the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in 2011.

Prior to her current position with OCC, Rev. Fleck served as the Associate Minister at Central Christian Church in Enid, OK where she was instrumental in beginning the weekly Welcome Table Ministry for the food insecure of Enid, a bi-monthly Suicide Survivor Support Group, a religious presence at Enid’s Pride Celebration, and multiple services and programs throughout the church year to accommodate marginalized communities. She has also served in ministry at the Little Rock Air Force Base Chapel in Jacksonville, Arkansas, First Christian Church in Yukon, OK, Western Oaks Christian Church in Oklahoma City, OK and First Christian Church in Guthrie, OK.

Rev. Fleck serves on the Board of the Oklahoma Coalition for Reproductive Justice and is the 2nd Vice Moderator for the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Oklahoma. On October 20, 2017, Rev. Fleck was presented the 2017 Church Women United in Oklahoma Human Rights Award in recognition of her justice work in the State of Oklahoma. Rev. Fleck is a passionate minister for the work of Social Justice; standing up for the marginalized and ensuring dialogue and understanding among all people is at the heart of what ministry means for Rev. Fleck.

Another Point of View

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A2 Comments

Callie Anne

Philippians 3:4b-14 NRSV

There are many things that happen to us that make us look at the world in a brand new way. Things happen, and our whole world changes.  We see things differently, have a new perspective, see things from another point of view.

Oftentimes, this new perspective comes to us by way of tragedy or pain. Sometimes, when someone suffers a heart attack or another life-threatening illness, they can experience such a radically new perspective that their entire personality changes.

Our world changes every time we lose someone we love. “Without them, the world is just not the same,” we say.

Our world changed when we woke up on Monday morning and learned of the horrific shooting in Las Vegas. We were reminded how vulnerable and fragile life is, how evil human beings can be. We were given a new sense of humility. We appreciated life more. We cherished our loved ones more. We were given a brand new perspective for living.

Likewise, something very good can also bring a new perspective. Love can do that. When we are with someone we love, the sky seems bluer, the sun shines brighter. Love makes us more grateful, more giving, more kind. When we fall in love, the whole world changes.

And of course, having a baby changes everything. It brings a whole new perspective. A brand new point of view. There’s more responsibility, more worries, and more fun, and there’s less sleep, less time, and less fun. Parenthood: it’s a brand new world.

In this morning’s scripture lesson, the Apostle Paul is writing about the miraculous change that has been wrought in his life because of the change that has been wrought in the world through God in Jesus Christ.

The things that used to matter to him no longer matter: being religious, having religious parents, observing all of the religious rituals, obeying and defending all of the religious laws. It’s all “rubbish,” says Paul. He is saying: “In the power of the resurrection of Christ, I have a brand new faith, a brand new way of relating to God and to the world!”

In his second letter to the church at Corinth, he puts it this way:

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! (2 Corinthians 5:16-17).

In the life, death and resurrection of Christ, a new age has dawned, the whole world is different.

This is what the great theologian Moltmann was trying to point out when he wrote:

We have attempted to view the resurrection of Christ from the viewpoint of history. Perhaps the time has come for us to view history from the viewpoint of the resurrection.

Paul believed that when God raised Jesus from the dead, the whole world shifted on its axis. All was new.

A couple of weeks ago, I suggested that when we read the gospels, we discover that Jesus doesn’t tell us how to have abundant life through our religion, but tells us how to have abundant life through our sight. Perhaps Jesus figures, in his stories and actions, if he could just get us to see the world through some new angle of vision that is larger than our limited “human point of view,” then we will know how to live that vision.

Maybe that is the purpose of every Sunday morning in this place. Sunday mornings is less of a time to get some religion, be religious, learn some religious laws, and more of a time to help us to no longer see the world “from a human point of view.”

And let’s be honest, from a human point of view, church can be depressing. The forces of evil are so strong, hate is so commonplace, our political system is so corrupt, religion is so crazy; everyday, I know clergy who feel like throwing their hands up in the air and just giving up.

But we keep at it. We keep going. We keep working. We keep preaching, hoping and praying that somehow, someway, someday, someone’s going to catch a new vision. Someone’s going to gain a new perspective. Someone’s going to start seeing the world in a brand new way. Someone’s is going to start giving more generously, speaking more courageously, serving more compassionately, loving more unconditionally. Someone is going to open their eyes and answer the divine call to do something, anything, to make this world more kind, more just and more peaceful.

This is not wishful thinking. This is not a failure to come to terms with reality. This is a staunch faith that when people truly experience the life, death and resurrection of Christ, there is a whole new creation, a brand new world.

When he was told that he was going to be laid off from work, he thought his life was over. He believed he had no other possibilities, no other options. He could see losing his house, his insurance, his pension, and so many things that he had worked so hard for.

However, that was just his narrow-minded, limited, human point of view. What he couldn’t see was losing that job was going to be the best thing that ever happened to him. He couldn’t see that a new job awaited him that would utilize his gifts more fully, thus giving him greater fulfillment.

After the doctor’s diagnosis and the decision was made to place her under the care of Hospice, some said that it was just not God’s will for her to be healed. Some grieved for they knew her last days would be a time of sadness and pain.

But that’s just a narrow-minded, short-sighted, restricted, human point of view. They failed to remember that in Christ there’s a whole new creation. A new creation where spiritual healing is greater than physical healing.

Can you see it?

Of course, she would be feeble, and she would be tired, but she would be more alive, more whole, more blessed, and more engaged; she would possess more hope and share more love than the most physically fit person anyone knows.

Before she was born in 2012, she was diagnosed a rare genetic disorder called Apert Syndrome. The bones in her skull, hands and feet fused together prematurely. Two surgeries to split the bones of her skull would be required, along with surgeries to split the bones in her hands and feet. To survive, she would need to be fed through a feeding tube for two long years.

“Oh, how tragic,” the people said. “How horrific,” they cried. “How is she going to ever be happy?” they asked. “How will her parents afford her costly surgeries, attend to her special needs? How will they ever survive the stress? It’s difficult enough to raise a healthy child in this world? How are they going to raise one with so many challenges?”

But that’s only seeing the world from a limited, incomplete, dimly-lit, narrow-minded, human point of view. What they failed to factor in is that in Christ there is a brand new world, a new brand new creation.

Can you see it?  I think you can.

Despite her many challenges, she will be one of the happiest, spirited little girls that you’ll ever know. Fundraisers and generous donations by God’s people would help pay for the enormous medical expenses. Like raising any child in this world, there will stress, but the strength and courage and peace that flows out of a relationship with Christ will be more than enough to see this family through each day. And they will never be alone.

They will be surrounded by families of faith that care for them, prays with them and vows to help Callie Anne and her family see their world with brand new eyes—to see life with a new vision, with a fresh new perspective.

A terrorist thug shoots and kills 58 people, injuring over 500 more.

“The world is going to hell!” they say. “God has given up on us!” they bemoan. “This is the new normal. There’s just nothing we can do to prevent this from happening again!” they quibble.

But that’s only a narrow-minded, limited, shallow, shadowy, defeated, and very ignorant human point of view.

There was only one cowardly terrorist, but did you see the countless brave men and women who were willing to lay down their lives for strangers, forming human shields, carrying the wounded to safety? Did you see the police officers risking it all by running towards the gunfire, courageous men and women bearing witness to the truth that God still loves this world, God has not given up on this world, God still believes this world is worth fighting for, sacrificing for, dying for!

The good news is that we will not allow the personal evil of a single killer affect our sight, cloud our vision, and shape our worldview.

No, with faith in Christ, we will continue to see our world from the viewpoint of the resurrection. We will see a world where when there seems to be no way, God is always making a way. We will see a world where no matter how bad things sometimes get, God is always working those things out for the good. We will see a world where no matter how distant God seems, God is always present resurrecting, recreating, reforming and transforming sorrow into joy, despair into hope, and death into life!

Let us pray,

Lord Jesus, in whose light is our life, we pray that you will give us eyes to see your work in the world, eyes to see your presence moving among us, and eyes to gain a new vision of who we ought to be. Release our grip on the old, familiar world of death and defeat. And help us thereby live out your resurrection everyday of our lives. Give us grace to see.  Amen.

 

 

Unity in Christ

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A1 Comment

lincoln

Philippians 2:1-13 NRSV

This week, my friend, the Rev. Bob Ballance, made the following observation on social media:

Our divisiveness across this country, so it seems to me, at least, is like a cancer spreading throughout the body. We just keep finding new ways to attack one another. National tragedies like hurricanes used to pull us together, but reports on the destruction of these storms is already old news, seemingly powerless to jolt us back to our collective senses. What was it President Lincoln said so eloquently? “America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.” A century later, Khrushchev said the same: “We do not have to invade the United States. We will destroy you from within.” Where on earth are the prophets in times like these, those rare voices who have the gift and courage to rise up from the fringes with the right words at the right moment for the right reason? We used to could count on them to shout out the truth, hoping on a wing and a prayer to find a listening ear–any ear at all–to force at least a small nucleus to THINK and CHANGE, and then begin the work of pulling society back from the madness. This division has spread like wildfire into political parties, elections, the White House, the workplace, our stadiums, congregations, communities, families, even…into our playgrounds.

As a church that encourages inclusion and reconciliation, I believe we have a grand opportunity to be a shining example of harmony and unity to a divisive nation.

Do you know how to tell if your church is unified? It’s not by the number in attendance on a Sunday morning. And it’s not by what is put in the offering plates.

I believe that one way is by how long people linger in the building when worship is over. For when people find genuine love, acceptance and belonging in a place, they tend to want to stay in that place. I noticed last week how some of you hung around after the service like you didn’t want to leave. And that was good to me. A unified church is a church where people find love, acceptance and belonging.

A unified church can be a respite from the chaos and hurt that is in our world. It can truly be a sanctuary, a place to receive peace beyond understanding.

As I mentioned last Sunday, after Bruce Birkhead spent a difficult week in the hospital his wife Kaye, unaware of what would transpire this week, when Bruce needed some peace and rest, when Bruce needed to recharge is soul, I loved that he came here to this place.

So, I believe we have a wonderful opportunity to be a leader bringing peace to a divided nation. We have the opportunity be the rare prophetic voice that Rev. Ballance says our nation needs, those who posses the gifts and courage “to rise up from the fringes with the right words at the right moment for the right reason.” With our example of how to be a united blessed community we have the opportunity to “shout out the truth” to “pull society back from the madness.”

Let’s look again to the words of the one who seems to be speaking directly to us this morning:

Be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility, regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.

We can be the prophetic voice that is needed to heal our nation with the humility of Christ.

And as First Christian Church in Fort Smith I believe we have a unique opportunity, as we are a people with diverse beliefs, different views, assorted experiences, various interpretations of the scriptures; yet we still come together each week with mutual respect for one another, in grace, in love and in humility around this table, united as one.

However, as good as our church is, I am afraid we still have some work to do, some obstacles to overcome. Because the truth is, that when many people today think about church, the word “humility” is not something that comes to their minds. In fact, it is the exact opposite that comes to their minds: words like “haughty,” “judgmental” and “uppity.”

Sadly, sometimes the church has been the cause of some of our nation’s division. So, when I say we have some work to do, I am saying that we need to go full-steam in the other direction.

Think of what a powerful witness we would be to our divided nation, if everyday, we literally and figuratively practiced humbly bending ourselves to the ground in the way of our God!

For when God wanted to reconcile the world unto God’s self, when God wanted to unite the world, God emptied God’s self, poured God’s self out, as a humble servant. God bowed down, down to meet us where we are, down to earth through a humble baby, laid down in a humble manger, worshipped by humble shepherds.

The gospel writers continually paint a portrait Jesus as one who is continually lowering himself in humility.

When his disciples chastised little children who needed to shape up and grow up before they be a part of God’s Kingdom, Jesus bent down down and welcomed them saying that the Kingdom of God actually belonged to such children.

While his disciples bickered about who was going to be promoted to be first in the Kingdom, Jesus taught them another way by doing things like stooping down to wash their feet, moving down to sit at the lowest seat at the table, crouching down to forgive a sinner, reaching down to serve the poor, lowering himself down to accept the outcast, touch the leper, heal the sick, eat and drink with the sinner, and raise the dead.

And nearing the culmination of this downward life, Jesus, the savior of the world, made his triumphant entrance into Jerusalem to liberate God’s people, not on some white war stallion that made its way up the equestrian ladder, but on a borrowed donkey. And he rode into Jerusalem not with an elite army that had advanced up the ranks in some up-and-coming militia, but came in with an army of rag-tag followers who had no idea what they were doing or where they were going.

While people exercise worldly power to move up, climb up, and advance, Jesus exercised a prophetic power that always propelled him in the opposite direction.

In the wilderness when he was tempted with worldly power, we watched Jesus embrace another power.

It is not a power that rules. It is a power that serves.

It is not a power that takes. It is a power that gives.

It is not a power that seizes. It is a power that suffers.

It is not a power that transforms stone into bread to feed his body. It is a power that transforms his body into living bread to feed the world.

It is not a power that commands angels to save himself. It is a power that gives himself away.

It is not a power that dominates from some high place in glory. It is a power that dies in a low place called Golgotha.

This is the narrow, humble, downward, descending way of Jesus toward the poor, the suffering, the marginal, the prisoners, the refugees, the lonely, the hungry, the dying, the tortured, the homeless–toward all who thirst and hunger justice and compassion.

And the good news is that as I look around this room, I see people who are committed to traveling this same downward path.

I see people who have chosen to be here this morning, not to get ahead, not to feel more righteous or superior than others, not to get something here in worship that will make you more successful, more affluent, climb a little higher. You are not even here looking to be uplifted, or to be more upbeat. I see people here who have chosen to move in the opposite direction.

I see a room full of people who are here not to get something, but to give something, not to be served by programs, but to serve on a mission.

Because you have heard, and you have believed Jesus when he said: “Anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be your slave, just as the Son of Man came, not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:25-28).

May this always be who we are as a church.

May we come here each Sunday morning to embrace a mission of humility, sacrifice and selflessness. And then may we go out on a mission, bending ourselves down to the ground if we have to, to touch the places in people that most need touching. May we go out and stoop down to welcome all children. May we go out and reach down to serve the poor, lower ourselves down to accept the outcast. May we go out and get down on our knees to pray for and suffer with the sick and the despairing.

And by our humble example, may our divisive nation be inspired come together, be united as one, and together see our Lord “highly exalted…”

so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend…
and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”

 

Invitation to the Table

As part of the world-wide community of Christians, we remember Jesus’ meal with his disciples.

The different languages you will hear today are symbols of the diversity of Christian experience, both close to us and around the world.

Jesus sets the table and his welcome extends to all of humanity.

People of all ages, of all genders, of all cultures, of all economic conditions are welcome here.

No one can earn a place at this meal. Come of your own choice. You need only desire to follow the downward way of Jesus.

Bring your hopes and your history. Bring your deliberations and your doubts.

Come with those who differ greatly from you and be reconciled as one.

 

Commissioning and Benediction

Although it sounds good to be an up and coming church, I commission us to be a church that is always down and going.

May we go out in humility, bending ourselves down to the ground if we have to, to touch the places in people that most need touching.

May we go out and stoop down to welcome and accept all children. Crouch down to a child in a wheelchair who has been told their entire life: “No You Can’t!” and tell them: “Yes You Can!”

May we go out and reach down to serve the poor, lower ourselves down to accept the marginalized, and may we get low, get down on our knees to pray with all who suffer.

And, there, as low as we can go, may this church be a shining example in a divisive nation of harmonious humility and revolutionary reconciliation.

And now may the communion of the Holy Spirit of God who came down to us in a stable and the grace of the Christ who knelt down to pick up his cross, be with us now and forevermore. Amen.

 

 

Wake-Up Call!

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A2 Comments

Romans 13:8-14 NRSV

It was the summer of 2013. It had been three years since I served my last church. At the time, I didn’t think I would ever serve as a pastor again.

I was on a business trip in Las Vegas, the city that’s said to represent everything depraved that is within us.

Early one morning, I went for a run on the Strip. The streets were already crowded with people. Some were shopping. Some were on their way to another casino. While others were on their way to do who knows what to fulfill their most selfish desires.

As I ran along, I noticed that all of the electronic billboards suddenly changed displaying a picture of a young man with words that read: “David Vanbuskirk.1977-2013. Las Vegas Police Search and Rescue Officer.” I would soon learn that Vanbuskirk was killed while rescuing a hiker stranded in an off-limits area of a mountain northwest of Las Vegas, when he fell from a helicopter hoist line.

I ran a few more blocks, until I noticed that the people walking up and down the busy sidewalks began to stop and peer down the street that was suddenly empty of traffic. The entire Strip, which was booming with the sounds of automobiles and of people enjoying themselves a few seconds earlier, became profoundly silent.

A man removed his hat. A woman covered her heart with her hand. A little boy, sitting on his father’s shoulders, saluted. I stopped running. And with everyone else, my eyes turned toward the street where we watched and listened as a very long police motorcycle motorcade produced the only sound on the hushed strip. The motorcade was followed by a white police pick-up truck carrying a flag-draped casket.

People remained silent and still for several more minutes. Some bowed their heads. Others wiped tears from their eyes. Others embraced their loved ones.

Here are some questions I believe the church needs to ask today:

What was it that stopped the traffic on one of the busiest streets in the country?

What was it that got everyone’s attention?

What was it that made people cry?

What was it that got even the most indulgent and decadent one, in the heart of sin city, to believe in something greater than thenself?

What was it that turned eyes away from reveling and drunkenness, debauchery and licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy and toward selflessness and sacrifice?

What is it that has the power to change the world?

It’s the very power that is the heart of our Christian faith, or should be the heart of our faith.

It’s the power that caused firefighters, police officers and first responders to run into the Twin Towers on 9-11 when everyone else was running out of them.

It’s the power that has sent John Mundy and hundreds of volunteers back to Texas this weekend. It’s the power behind our prayers for Florida and the Caribbean.

It’s the power that gives generously to disaster relief funds like Week of Compassion.

It’s the power that can unite our government to save the lives of the Dreamers.

It’s the force that created the universe, this good earth, and every living thing in it (Genesis 1-2).

It’s the source of all life (John 1:4).

It’s the burning compulsion to liberate God’s people from the evils of oppression and slavery (Exodus 3).

It’s the fire in the prophet’s voice to welcome the foreigner, defend the orphan, stand up for the poor and take care of the widow (Isaiah 1:17).

It’s the drive that sent Emmanuel into the world, not to condemn the world, but to save the world (John 3:17).

It’s the energy that continues to pour out the very Spirit of God on all flesh to overwhelm evil and overcome death (Romans 12:21).

It’s the power of love—pure, unconditional, unreserved, unrelenting —passionate love that propels action, deep love that compels sacrifice.

Jesus said there is no greater power in the world than the power of love compelling one to lay down one’s life for another (John 15:13). And there is no greater commandment than to love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:40).

To the Corinthians, Paul writes about faith, hope and love, but says that the greatest of these is love. And if love is not in our words, even in our confessions of faith, then we are only making noise. If love is not the heart of all that we do, we are nothing (1 Corinthians 13).

To the Romans, Paul echoes the words of Jesus:

You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet”; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law (Romans 13:9-10).

Paul writes that “now is the moment” we need to “wake up” and understand that what the world needs now is love (Romans 13:11). And as Dionne Warwick sings, “not just for some, but for everyone.”

When it comes to loving all people, we have too many Christians who keep hitting the snooze button. They pull the covers over their heads, close their eyes, and selfishly sleep. For whatever reason: self-preservation, control, greed, to protect their privileged positions, they seek darkness over light, judgment over grace, exclusion over acceptance, and hate over love.

John calls them “false prophets” who possess “the spirit of the anti-Christ” and “a spirit of error” (1 John 4:1-6).

Stressing how essential it is for Christians possess a spirit of love, he then pleads:

Love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love…  No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and God’s love is perfected in us (1 John 4:7-12).

I began to think about the rescue of that stranded hiker. Vanbuskirk probably didn’t know anything about that hiker. He didn’t know whether the hiker was male or female; rich or poor; Democrat or Republican; gay or straight; documented or undocumented; Muslim or Christian; black, brown or white.

He didn’t know if this person would ever contribute to society, or ever give a dime to the Fraternal Order of the Police.

He just knew that the hiker was stranded and needed help. He just knew the hiker was afraid. The hiker was hungry, thirsty, wounded. And Vanbuskirk was called to protect and serve.

Vanbuskirk wasn’t concerned about breaking any religious, cultural or political rules. His only concern was rescuing the perishing, saving the lost.

It was in that moment that something inside of me woke up. It was like an alarm went off inside my soul. Love—pure, unconditional, unreserved, unrelenting. Passionate love pierced my heart. Deep love roused me from a self-absorbed slumber. And there, in the middle of the Miracle Mile, I began to pray:

“God, if you give me an opportunity to serve as a pastor again, I am going to do all that I can to lead your people to love others more than self, to serve and protect courageously, graciously, expecting absolutely nothing in return.

God, I will lead your church with great worship services, but more importantly, I will lead your people to worship you with great service. And I will lead them to do it with no strings attached, selflessly, sacrificially, always lovingly.

Lord, together, we will comfort the fearful, feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, heal the wounded, not because they might believe like we believe, contribute to our budget, or even attend one of our services, but simply because they need help.

Lord, we will serve without prejudice, without judgment. We will love all people, and all means all.”

Before I came home from that trip to Vegas, I received a phone call from the search committee of the First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Farmville, North Carolina, asking me if I would consider being their pastor.

And four years later, I stand before you today believing that what the world needs now more than anything else is for the church to wake up to rediscover what is the very heart of our faith: love, not just for some, but for everyone.

I love the quote from German Lutheran theologian of the early seventeenth century, Rupertus Meldenius that is usually printed in our order of service: “In essentials, unity. In non-essentials, diversity. In all things, love.”

When thinking about what is essential to our faith, we might say that it is our confession of faith, “Jesus is Lord.” But we can say “Jesus is Lord” all day long, but if we don’t have love, we are only making noise, says Paul. We can say we love God, but if we don’t love our neighbors, we are liars, says John. This is why Jesus says: “Many will call me Lord, yet I will have to say to them, depart from me, for I never knew you.”

Love is our essential. And it is in this essential that we must be unified. Then, we say, “In non-essentials diversity.” And just in case you didn’t get it the first time, we are going to say it again, “in all things, love.”

I have heard the term wake-up call many times in the short-time I have been your pastor. The white nationalists’ march on Charlottesville has been called a wake-up call. The “Nashville Statement” put out by Christians to further marginalize the LGBT+ community has been termed a wake-up call. I heard the solar eclipse and Hurricanes Harvey and Irma referred to as wake-up calls.

I don’t believe the Apostle Paul cares what we use for an alarm, because we already “know what time it is. How now is the moment to wake up. For salvation is coming near. The time has come to lay-aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.”

So, let’s wake up and love our world.

Let us love our city so purely that it stops traffic on Rogers Avenue.

Let us love our neighbors so unconditionally that it gets everyone’s attention.

Let us love people so unreservedly that it brings tears to the eyes of strangers.

Let us love so relentlessly that it gets even the most selfish, indulgent and decadent one in this city to believe in something greater than self.

Let us love so passionately that it turns people’s hearts away from indifference and toward justice, away from reveling and drunkenness and toward self-denial and selflessness, away from debauchery and licentiousness, quarreling and jealousy and toward empathy and compassion, sacrifice and generosity.

Let us love the creation so deeply that it changes the world!

Amen.

 

Invitation to Communion

This table has been set with the power that created the universe, the source of all life that liberates the oppressed, overwhelms evil and overcomes death. This table has been set with love—pure, unconditional, unreserved, unrelenting—passionate love propelling action, deep love compelling sacrifice.

And it is love incarnate, the living Christ, who invites all to receive this power and share it with the world.

 

Commissioning and Benediction

You know what time it is!

The time is now! This is the moment!

Having awakened from a self-absorbed slumber,

go and love the creation so deeply that it changes the world.

Go and stop some traffic.

Go and get somebody’s attention.

Go and make somebody cry.

Go and help somebody believe.

And may the God who is love, the Christ who exemplified and commanded love, and the Spirit who empowers love, be with us all.

On a Self-Denying, Self-Giving Mission

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A1 Comment

Time Magazine

Matthew 16:21-28 NRSV

As our facebook profile picture suggests, the First Christian Church of Fort Smith is on a mission.

We are on a mission to be a church of extravagant welcome. We want to live up to the identity statement of our denomination and truly welcome all people to the Lord’s Table as God has graciously welcomed us. Because when we graciously and generously welcome others, we welcome God. When we compassionately and lovingly include others, we include God.

And when we say we include God here, we are saying that we believe the spirit of the Risen Christ is actually present, moving, working, stirring, prodding, pulling, pushing, and calling us to be on this mission, and I believe he is calling us in the same way he called the first disciples, with the simple, yet profound words:

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

Jesus says that the first thing we need to do is to decide if we want to follow him. He said: “If any want to be my followers…”

You have heard me say that I believe the reason there are so many empty pews these days on Sunday mornings, is because of the perception that many have of the church. Instead of seeing a group of people who have made a decision to follow Jesus, they look at the church and see some type of religious club created for members to make them feel holier and more superior than others.

This is perhaps why the first thing Jesus says we must do once we decide we want to follow him is to “deny ourselves.” This thing called “discipleship,” this thing called “church,” is not about us. It’s not about making us feel spiritual, righteous, enriched or blessed. It is not about achieving a good, better, happy or successful life, or even gaining an eternal life. It’s about dying to self.

Church is not about receiving a blessing. It is about being a blessing.

It is not about having our souls fed. It is about feeding the hungry.

It is not about finding a home. It is about providing shelter for the homeless.

It is not about prosperity. It is about giving everything away to the poor.

It is not about getting ahead. It is about sharing with people who can barely get by.

I recently saw a church billboard inviting people to their church by saying: “Help people win.”

The problem with that is that our faith is not about winning. It’s about sacrifice.

I believe the reason some churches fail to look like Jesus today is because, in our attempt to entice new members, excite new members, gain new members, we have made the church about us. We say: “Come, and join our church where we have sermons, music and programs that are certain to enrich your life.” Instead of saying: “Come, join our church, where you will be given opportunities to give your life away.” “Come, join our church, where you will be encouraged to sacrifice and selflessly serve.”

Jesus said, “Let them deny themselves, and take up their crosses.”

I don’t know how it happened, or precisely when it happened, but I can understand why it happened. At some point we have interpreted taking up and carrying our crosses to mean something completely different than what Jesus intended. The crosses we bear have become synonymous with the suffering that we involuntarily have to put up with in life.

We say: “Diabetes: It’s my cross that I have to bear.” “Arthritis: It’s the cross I carry.” “Migraine headaches: It’s my cross.”

However, when Jesus is talking about cross bearing, he is talking about something completely different. He is not talking about some kind of involuntary suffering that we are forced to endure for being human. He is talking about the suffering that we voluntarily choose for the sake of our mission to be a movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.

Jesus is talking about living a life so transformed by the love of God that we cannot remain comfortably complacent while others are suffering from disease, grief, disability, poverty, a catastrophic flood, abuse, addiction, discrimination, or even from bad choices they have made.

Forgiving someone who has wronged us and continues to cause indescribable pain in our life, may be a cross Jesus is calling us to carry.

Visiting residents in a nursing home when a nursing home is the last place we want to be, may be a cross Jesus is calling us to bear.

Spending our time mentoring a young adult raised in foster care when we already have little or no time for ourselves, may be a cross Jesus is calling us to pick up.

Agreeing to volunteer to feed the food insecure when our own cabinets are almost bare, may be a cross Christ is calling us to take up.

Choosing a less lucrative career path because we feel called to serve others might be a cross Jesus is asking us to carry.

Loving all of our neighbors as ourselves knowing that loving some of our neighbors will inevitably cost us something is a cross Jesus wants all of us to bear.

Donating to the Week of Compassion Mission fund to help hurricane victims when our own budgets are tight, or making plans to go rebuild a flooded home when our own homes need some work, is a cross I believe Jesus is calling us to carry.

Standing up for the dignity and rights of minorities, of the poor, of those marginalized by the culture and by bad religion, is a cross that I believe Jesus commands all of us to take up.

I believe the reason some churches are failing to look like Jesus is because they only encourage their members to do what makes them happy, what brings them satisfaction, what makes them comfortable. “Do you love kids? Do children make you happy? Then help us with children’s church!” “Do you love going to the hospital to visit sick people? Have you always wanted to be a nurse? Then serve on our hospital ministry team!”

However, as a leader of this church, I am going to lead you to do things may not only be uncomfortable for you, but I am going to lead you to do some things that actually might cause you to suffer.

Because, you called me to be your pastor. You didn’t call me to be your activities director.

That’s because we are a church. We are not a club. We are far from perfect, but we have intentionally made a decision to follow Jesus by denying ourselves and taking up a cross.

This is what makes being a pastor so difficult, especially being a new pastor. Because, like most pastors that I know, I want you to like me.

Seriously, right or wrong, that is perhaps the most stressful part of my life right now. Does my new congregation like me? After all, I like them. And besides that, they pay my salary, and I have two kids in college!

However, because I am called to be your pastor and not your club president, and because this mission we are on together is not about what either one of us like, it is my calling to lead us to do things we may not want to do, to go to places we may not want to go, to love people we don’t want to love, to include people we would rather exclude. And I realize how difficult it is to always like someone who is leading you in that direction. Jesus’ disciples certainly did not like Jesus leading them in that direction.

I suppose it’s a cross that I have been asked to carry. But may God forgive me, may the Spirit convict me, and may the elders of this church have a special meeting and call me out, if I ever succumb to the temptation to be your pastor without carrying a cross.

Finally, Jesus says, “After you make the decision to follow me, after you deny yourselves, and after you pick up your crosses, then I want you to follow me.”

Notice he doesn’t say to walk down a church aisle and publically confess he is our personal Lord and Savior. Notice he doesn’t say: “Have a personal relationship with me.” And notice he doesn’t say to “worship me” or “study me.”

Jesus says to “follow,” which denotes going, moving, action; not sitting in a pew or in a Sunday School classroom. Jesus wants us to go and do the things that he does, share the same radical grace that he shares, go and do what we can to lavish this world with his revolutionary love even if it costs us everything.

It’s important to make this sanctuary, our narthex, our chapel, Disciples Hall, and every Sunday School room, even every restroom, a place of welcome every Sunday morning. Because, when we welcome others here, we welcome God. And if we don’t welcome God here, then I am not sure what we are doing here. We’re certainly not doing church. It’s important to come together in this beautiful place to worship and to study together each week; however, church should never be limited to any place or time.

We are a church that meets in this place, but we are also a church that is on the move. We’re on a mission 24/7, following the risen Christ, loving our neighbors as ourselves, sacrificially denying ourselves, courageously taking risks, generously giving our gifts, leaving behind family and friends if we have to, as we feed the hungry, fight for the marginalized, stand against the haters, care for the elderly, include the disabled, befriend the stranger, provide shelter for the down-and-out, restore shelter for the flooded-out, give hope to the despairing, bring to life the aspirations of the Dreamer. Whether or not people like us for it, we’re going follow wherever Christ leads us, throughout the River Valley, into eastern Oklahoma, across our entire region, down to Lake Charles, then maybe over to Beaumont, Port Arthur, and in and around Houston. Though none go with us, we still will follow. Our cross we’ll carry forward together, not one step back. Until we see Jesus, no turning back, no walking it back, no dialing it back, no turning back, no turning back.

 

 

Invitation to the Table

When we share the bread and the cup from this table, we remember that for our sakes, Christ denied himself and carried a cross, Christ gave himself, poured himself out for us.

We also remember that this is the one we have decided to follow. We remember that we have been called to deny ourselves and to carry a cross. We are called to give ourselves, to pour ourselves out for the sake of others.

As we sing our hymn of communion may we pray for the courage to follow the Christ wherever he leads us. And may we remember that he invites all of us who have gathered here to follow him.

A Radical Cup of Water

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment

waterhose

Matthew 10:40-42 NRSV

Matthew Chapter 10 is perhaps one of the most demanding chapters in the entire Bible.

Early in the chapter, we read that the discipleship business is a risky business. We are to go out into the world and encounter the sick and the dying. We are to engage those possessed by pure evil. We are to be willing to leave behind our families, our homes, even our clothes! Persecution is not only to be accepted. It is to be welcomed!  To save one’s self, we are to practice denying one’s self, pouring one’s self out, losing one’s self.

And when read it, we think, “You know, I don’t think I am really cut out for this discipleship business. I don’t have the gifts, the time, the energy, the courage, and quite honestly, I don’t have the desire.”

So thanks for the invitation, but I prefer to just keep my place safe and comfy on this padded pew.

Then, we reach the end of the chapter and we read these words: “Whoever gives even a cold cup of water to one of these little ones—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

And we say: “Hey now.  Wait just a minute. You know, I think I might be able to handle this! I can’t heal the sick—I hate hospitals, and I do all I can do to avoid nursing homes.

I don’t have what it takes to minster to the poor. They make me nervous, make me feel dirty, stress me out.

I can’t be with the dying. That is what Hospice is for. And I dread going to funerals. I never know what to say or what to do.

And I can’t leave my family behind. I can’t give up my possessions. And I don’t want to even think about losing my life. But hey, I am all about sharing a cold cup of water!

Finally! Something I can handle. So, Jesus, I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. As soon as I get home from church this afternoon, I am going to hook up my water hose to the spigot out in front of my house.  Then I am going to I make a sign and put it out by the road that reads: ‘Free cold drink of water for all who are thirsty!’ And to make the preacher happy, since it is his last Sunday, I will even add: “And all means all.”

Maybe I am cut out to be a disciple of Jesus after all!”

For most of us, this seems like some good news! We who generally fail at casting out demons (even when they show up in church), we who would rather stay in our pews than take the gospel out to the dying, we who take care of our own children while others starve in the streets, and we who find praise far more satisfying than persecution, even we can open the doors of the kingdom through a simple act of hospitality, as small as giving a thirsty stranger a cold cup of water.

“Praise be to Jesus!” we say.

“So, I am going to just forget about all of that other stuff Jesus talked about, that big prophetic stuff, that demanding stuff, that risky and radical stuff. I’m just going to take Jesus at his word in Matthew 10:42 and run with it!  In fact, is going to be my new favorite scripture verse. This is my new calling. This is my mantra and my ministry. Cold cups of water for all God’s people!

But you have to wonder if we aren’t missing something. For deep inside, we all know we can do a lot better than that. We all know a cross or two we could bear. We all know a neighbor we could love. We all know someone we could help out. We all know ways we could be a little less selfish, less materialistic, more generous.

True discipleship really cannot be as easy as passing out a few cups of water, can it? Are we really supposed to forget all about everything else that Jesus talked about? All of that hard stuff about “turning the other cheek,” “loving our enemies,” and selling everything we have to give to the poor?”

Surely those are the marks of true discipleship. Those are the keys to the kingdom of heaven. There’s just no way a small act of inconsequential hospitality can compare to the risky and radical business of battling the demonic, coming into contact with the sick, ministering to the dying and enduring persecution.

But Jesus seems to disagree. For in a fragmented world such as ours, a simple act of kindness, a small gesture of welcome to a stranger, a little genuine hospitality is never an easy, inconsequential act. In fact, it can be very risky business with very radical consequences.

A short time ago, I replied to an email from a complete stranger who wrote to thank me for something that I had written on my blog. By the way, I ended that article, “And all means all.”

I replied to his email with a simple, hospitable, what-seemed-to-be-inconsequential, “Thank you.”

A few days later we are friends on Facebook.

A couple of weeks later, I get a telephone call asking me to pray for him about a job opportunity in the City.

A week later, I am asked to meet this stranger at a restaurant.

Before I left the house, I told Lori exactly where I was going. I called her when I arrived and told her that if she did not hear from me in a couple hours to call the police.

During dinner, he shared with me some his burdens, some of his pain, some of fears. He told me how he had often been condemned by the church for being different. I made myself vulnerable by sharing some of my own burdens. Before we departed, we embraced, no longer as strangers, but as brothers who had made a covenant suffer with and to pray for one another. I drove home wondering: “What on earth have I gotten myself into?”

In this fragmented world, a world of walls and barriers, a world where there is so much division, so much hate and loneliness, replying to a simple email, a small gesture of hospitality, becomes a risky, radical and prophetic act that has the power to change your life, and perhaps the world.

And Jesus says to go and do this. Go out, move out, seek out, and reach out to strangers. Love your neighbors.

And yes, this world is frightening beyond our walls. Our neighbors can be so different. And the truth is some of our neighbors can be downright scary.

But our neighbors are also thirsty.

So, welcome, engage, touch. Share a drink with someone. Make yourselves vulnerable to another. For there is no other way to fulfill the purpose for which you were created—to seek and make genuine peace in this world.

This is discipleship. This is following the way of Jesus. It is done face-to-face, side-by-side, hand-to-hand, person-to-person.

We cringe. Because we know that this kind of hospitality involves risk. It involves radical openness and intimacy with another.

Offering a cup of water to another involves the risk of rejection, but also the risk of laughter; the risk of tears, but also the risk of love.

I’ve heard it said that the problem with others is that they are just so “other.” Others can quite often be different. Others may not like us. Others might refuse our kindness. Others might wound us. Others might crucify us. And worst of all, others might change us.

The truth is that putting a welcome sign in the front yard beside the water hose is a downright dangerous activity.

Nearing the end of my ministry in North Carolina before moving to be with you here in Enid, I went into the church kitchen to get a cup of coffee. A woman from the cleaning service the church had hired was in there preparing to mop the floor. Although I had seen her almost every week nearly three years, I am ashamed to say that I did not know her name.

But that day, before I really thought about it, considered the dangerous consequences of it, I asked this stranger, “Would you like a cup of coffee?” Somewhat shocked by my simple act of hospitality, she responded, “Yes, I would.”

She then introduced herself to me over that cup, as she introduced all of her children, a sick grandchild, a sister battling cancer, a brother who lost his job, and an absent husband. I filled a bag with squash and cucumbers from our community garden, and I hugged this woman who I had hardly spoken to in three years—this stranger that I had all but ignored—this woman who was no longer a stranger. She was my sister. And acknowledging the change, the miraculous transformation that had occurred, I thought, or maybe I prayed, “Good Lord, it was just one cup of coffee!”

Paraphrasing United Methodist Pastor William Willimon: This is the way of the good Lord. For Jesus, oftentimes through the smallest and simplest of ways, is always trying to change us, challenge us, move us. He welcomes and accepts us only so we will welcome others, for not only their sakes, but for our sakes.

This is the gift of community. This is why we were created. It is the answer to our own sadness, to our own loneliness and to our deepest desires. Jesus knows we were not created to live in isolation, but created from the heart of a God who lives in a self-giving, loving communion with the Son and the Holy Spirit—A heart that is so full of love that it cannot help but offer grace and redemption to all and call all into this communion.

And this communion grows. It grows when we offer kindness, gentleness, and mercy, when other lonely lives become wrapped up in our own, when the grace of God that was given to us is freely given to someone else.

And before we know it, the small cup of water we offered to another becomes a cup of salvation as fear fades, barriers fall, walls come down, hands touch, hearts connect, eyes open, lives become entwined.  Creed, color, gender, sexual orientation, it doesn’t matter.

Doing business with this kind of God, even when it seems small, safe and inconsequential, is always a risky business with radical consequences. And Jesus wants us to know that these consequences are eternal. Whether we are fighting demonic evil, healing the sick, caring for the dying, leaving behind our homes, our possessions, our friends and family, being persecuted for taking a stand for social justice, or simply offering meager acts of hospitality to a stranger, we always risk receiving salvation.

This is the great wonder of the gospel. When we reach out, accept, and welcome others, when we take the hand of another, when we embrace another, when we offer the unconditional love of God to another, even in the smallest of ways, even in sharing a glass of water or a small cup of coffee, or in responding to an email, God welcomes us.

When we encounter another, we find communion with God and receive the overflowing hospitality of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.[i]

[i] Inspired by William Willimon. “Risky Business,” Clergy Journal, Jun 26, 2005, vol 33, no 2, pp 53-56.

Preach, Raise, Cast Out and Heal

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment

Heal-the-sick-300x200

Matthew 9:35-10:8

I think sometimes we need to be reminded of the strange way that the Kingdom of God was started on this earth.

Jesus begins his ministry ushering in the reign of God, and how does he do it?  Does the Son of God, the Messiah of the world, the alpha and the omega, the one through all things came into being, do it all by himself?

Nope.

Oddly enough, he calls together and sends out ordinary people like you and me to help him.

Master preacher Barbara Brown Taylor has written a wonderful meditation called The Preaching Life where she stresses the need for all Christians to recognize that they have been called to be ministers.

She writes:

Somewhere along the way we have misplaced the ancient vision of the church as a priestly people—set apart for ministry in baptism, confirmed and strengthened in worship, made manifest in service to the world. That vision is a foreign one to many church members, who have learned from colloquial usage that minister means the ‘ordained person,’ in a congregation, while lay person means ‘someone who does not engage in full-time ministry.’  Professionally speaking that is fair enough—but speaking ecclesiastically, it is a disaster. Language like that turns clergy into purveyors of religion, and lay persons into consumers, who shop around for the church that offers them the best product.

Taylor says we need to revive Martin Luther’s vision of the priesthood of all believers, who are ordained by God at baptism to share Christ’s ministry in this world.

All we have to do is sit down and study he scriptures to understand that this is just how our God works in this world. Nowhere in the scriptures do we find God saying: “Go into the world and make Christians. Bring them into the church so they can sing some hymns, sit and pray and listen to a sermon about being good, moral people. Form a type of club. Hire a full-time club president who is going to be there to plan activities for and to support the club members, making sure they are comfortable and happy.”

No, what we do find in scriptures is Jesus instructing us to go into the world and make disciples out of all nations. Make disciples, not Christians.

And what do disciples do? Sit on a pew every Sunday? Sing, pray, try to be good. Maybe attend a committee meeting every now and again?

No, they do what Jesus did. Nothing too big mind you. Just your ordinary raising of the dead. Just your routine healing of a disease. Just your typical demon exorcism sort of thing. They do things that change the world.

Seriously. That’s what it says. Read it with your own eyes.

Maybe this is part of our problem. Maybe ancient scriptures like this which don’t seem to apply to us are why we sometimes look more like club members than disciples.

Perhaps we are tempted to believe that passages such as this have absolutely nothing to do with us. For how in the world can we sophisticated 21st-century folk take these words about raising dead people and casting out demons seriously?

Jesus also sent the disciples out to heal diseases. “Does that mean we are supposed to have faith healing services? Put a billboard out on Garriott: “Before you go to the Emergency room at Bass or St. Mary’s, swing by Central Christian Church first!”

I guess we will also need to create a demon exorcism ministry team and put an ad in the paper which will read: “Know someone possessed by the devil? Call the demon exorcism team of Central Christian Church. We’ll make your possessed loved one’s head spin around until the demons are cast out and are gone for good!”

And then I suppose we need to create a resuscitation ministry team—A team that will be on call to receive calls from families of loved ones who just died? We’ll send out flyers to hospitals and nursing homes which will read, “Before you call the funeral home, call our resuscitation ministry team, and we’ll bring the dead back to life!”

So, we read this and think that just maybe we’re not supposed to take this passage that seriously. Maybe this is not what we are to be about. After all, it was written very different people who lived a long, long time ago, in place far, far away. How in the world can this passage be for us living in the 21st century?

But this is the Bible we are talking about here. If there is anything true, it is in here. We are baptized Christians and believe Jesus is Lord—he is our Lord.  And this is Jesus speaking here. This passage has to have something to do with us—perhaps everything to do with us.

Let’s look at healing diseases. Several years ago, Duke University did a study which revealed that people who go to church, people who have faith and a family of faith, people who are prayed for, statistically have a better recovery rate from major surgeries than people who are not a part of a church. Think of how many dreadful experiences you have had, how many horrible things you have gone through which made you say in the end, “I don’t know how people without faith and the church do it.”  Christians bring healing to people whenever they pray, send cards or flowers, and make visits or phone calls.

Now, let’s look at casting out demons. We need to understand that the problems that people possess really have not changed in 2000 thousand years. It’s just the descriptions of those problems that have changed. Demon possession was a diagnosis given to a whole host of problems. Most of these problems labeled demon possession had an oppressive nature. People who were said to be possessed by demons had a problem or a habit, perhaps an addiction that they could not break by themselves.

And of course that is still true today. On this day, when our thoughts once more are turned toward family, there are countless children, living right here in our city, who are bound, living in a cycle of poverty from which they can not escape. Drugs have taken their toll on some of their parents. Some have been abandoned by their fathers, some by their mothers. Some of their fathers are in prison. These children feel unloved, unwanted, and unclean. The demons of these children are many. They are in survival mode. And a way out seems impossible.

Unless someone intervenes. Unless someone becomes a mentor or a role model to these children. Unless someone answers a call to step in to befriend these children, include these children, tutor these children, read a book to these children, coach these children, love these children. Unless maybe a church dedicates themselves to these children.

Ok, perhaps we can understand how we called to partner with Jesus to fight the world’s demons and diseases, but how on earth do we raise dead people back to life?

I want to suggest that we do this all the time.

Tony Campolo tells the story of attending a funeral where the minister stopped preaching to the congregation and started preaching to the dead body. The casket was still open as the minister recounted Clarence’s faithful life and talked about how everyone would miss him dearly.

Then his tone changed, as he started talking directly to Clarence. He walked down and looked at Clarence lying there in the casket. He said: “Today, Clarence, we say good-bye. But this good-bye isn’t ‘so long.’ Clarence, it’s ‘until then.’” Then he closed the casket himself and said, “Good night Clarence, we’ll see you in the morning.”  Then the choir rose up and started to sing, That Great Getting’ Up Morning.

And when I think about it, at every funeral, I try my best to raise the dead. With scripture and prayer, I do all I can do to assure everyone that we will see them again.

And I will never forget how the dead was raised at the first Enid Welcome Table on Easter Sunday when one of our guests said to a volunteer: “Today, you have made me feel human again.”

The truth is that Jesus Christ gives all of us, his disciples, the power and the authority to partner with him in his mission and ministry in this world which includes, casting out demons, healing the sick and raising the dead.

But, you say, that’s still not for me. That kind of work was for the apostles. It was just for those special twelve disciples that Jesus called to follow him. They were special people, with extraordinary gifts and powers. I’m just an ordinary lay person. This passage is really not for me.

Let’s take a closer look at the list of these twelve to find out what was so special about them. Only two of the twelve here have descriptions in addition to the mention of their names (the rest of them are so ordinary that their names do not merit a description).

One name that does is “Matthew, the tax collector.” Matthew was a despised, disreputable, no good, low-life tax collector who took money from his own people to give to the Roman occupiers.

The other one with a description is “Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.” Jesus is either a miserable judge of character, or even his worst enemies are able to go out and work miracles in his name.

Think about it. There is nothing here to indicate that Judas failed to go out and preach, raise, cast out and heal. As far as we can tell, Judas had the same success as everyone else, including Matthew, the despised tax collector.

Beverly Gaventa says that this passage indicates that Jesus had a general rule for disciple-calling: “Only tax-collectors and traitors need apply.”

Jesus seems to only call sinners and nobodies to do his work.  Does anyone here really know who James, the son of Alphaeus is?”

If even these twelve can be called to do Jesus’ work, so can people as ordinary as us. The truth is: this passage, that may seem strange and outdated on the surface, has everything in the world to do with us.

Are you ready to take it seriously? “The harvest is plentiful and the laborers are few,” said Jesus. God is calling every one of us to preach, heal the sick, cast out demons and raise the dead.

What will be our response?

Let’s Dance

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A1 Comment

old-guy-dancing

2 Corinthians 13:11-13

2 Samuel 6

Modern Trinitarian thought uses a word spoken by Gregory of Nazi-anzus and Maximus the Confessor to describe how three can be one. These ancient thinkers referred to the inner life and the outer working of the Trinity as peri-co-reses. It means literally in the Greek, “to dance,” suggesting a dynamic, intimate relationship shared by the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

C. S. Lewis once wrote:

All sorts of people are fond of repeating the Christian statement that ‘God is love.’ But they seem not to notice that the words ‘God is love’ has no real meaning unless God contains at least two Persons. Love is something that one person has for another person. If God was a single person, then before the world was made, [God] was not love…

 

And that, writes Lewis,

is perhaps the most important difference between Christianity and all other religions: that in Christianity, God is not a static thing—not even a person—but a dynamic, pulsating activity, a life, almost a kind of drama. Almost, a kind of dance…

Lewis continues:

And now, what does it all matter?  It matters more than anything else in the world.  The whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this Three-Personal life is to be played out in each one of us: (or putting it the other way around) each one of us has got to enter that pattern, take his [or her] place in that dance. There is no other way to the happiness for which we were made.

I want to assert that the the problem with most churches today is that there is just not enough dancing. For some reason, maybe it is from our Puritan roots, church people are too reserved and rigid. Most of us prefer to keep our faith personal, private, than let it all hang out for others to see.

There’s a great dancer in our Bible that I believe the church could learn a thing or two from. We read about him in 2 Samuel 6.

After David led a great army to get possession of the Ark of the Covenant to return it to Jerusalem, David and his army were so overcome with what was going on that they engaged in festive rejoicing and dancing. They were seized by what James Newsome, New Testament professor of Columbia Seminary calls “a spirit of prophetic ecstasy.”

The scriptures say that David sang and danced before God “with all his might.” He sang and danced before God with all that he had and with all that he was.

You might say that David was God-intoxicated. And when you become God-intoxicated, so filled with the Holy Spirit of God, there’s just know way you can keep it private.

When David and his wife Michal arrived home from the party and began preparing to turn in for the night, David, if he was anything like me, was probably hoping to hear some words of affirmation from his wife. Something like, “Honey, you were so wonderful today. As I listened to you sing and watched you dance in the streets, you just don’t know how proud I was of you! You danced your heart out! And why shouldn’t you have, you brought the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem where it belongs!”

However, the words David hears are something like: “David, you looked like a drunken fool.”

Perhaps David did act like an intoxicated fool. Uninhibited and unrestrained, he lost all self-control. Seized by “a spirit of prophetic ecstasy,” David held absolutely nothing back. David surrendered to the Spirit which had filled him.

David danced, charged by the rule of God. David danced, electrified by the justice of God. David danced a dance of total self-surrender. David danced, holding nothing back. David danced giving all that he had and all that he was to God. And there was absolutely nothing personal or private about this dance. This dance caused a scene. This dance created a fuss. This dance got people’s attention. This dance challenged the status quo. This dance disturbed the peace.

And Michal despised David for it.

This is what happens when one drinks what Paul calls in Ephesians “huge draughts of the Spirit of God.” This is what happens when one becomes God-intoxicated. There is no way to control it, temper it. There is no way to conceal it. There is no way to regulate it to two hours on a Sunday morning. When one becomes drunk with the rule of God, the love of God, one’s feet will inevitably move to the dance of the gospel, and one will be despised for it.

The truth is: the dance of the gospel is a dangerous dance. The dance of the gospel is a disturbing dance. Because the active affirmation the rule of God does not set well with the Michals of the world.

The dance of personal, private piety are easier steps to follow, aren’t they? The message of false prophets watering down the gospel of Christ as nothing more than a little dose of “chicken soup for the soul” is much easier to swallow. If we just get ourselves right with the Lord, if we pray right and live right, if we are good moral people, if we don’t drink, dance, smoke or chew or go with girls who do, then God will bless us and one day send us to heaven.

The dance of the gospel is radically different. The dance of the gospel are steps to the beat of a different drum. If we get right with the Lord; if we pray right and live right; if we lose all inhibitions and all restraint; if we completely surrender ourselves to the rule of God; if we love others as Christ loves us, unconditionally, unreservedly; if we question the status quo, if we disturb the peace; if we dance to the beat of this drum, then we will invariably upset some folks.

That’s a good question for all of us who are attempting to follow Jesus, is it not? In your walk with Jesus, are you getting any push back?”

The answer should always be “yes,” for the dance of the gospel is a dance of self-surrender to a radical beat. It is a beat of sacrifice. It is a beat of selflessness. It is a beat of self-expenditure. It is a beat of a scandalous love and an offensive grace. And to world, as the Apostle Paul warned the Corinthians, if we let go and dance to this beat, we are certain to look like fools.

And as Luke warned us in Acts chapter 2 last week, when we are filled with the Holy Spirit of God, we may even be accused of public drunkenness, even if it before 9am in the morning.

We will be called drunken fools when we offer our friendship and our food to a group of people on a late Sunday afternoon who can offer us nothing in return.

We will be called drunken fools we spend valuable time volunteering at the hospital, visiting a nursing home, serving lunch in a soup kitchen, or spending a week of your hard earned vacation as a counselor at church camp.

We will be called drunken fools when we offer love and forgiveness to our enemies, when we give the shirt off our backs to complete strangers in need.

We will be called drunken fools anytime we love anyone with the self-expending love of Christ—whenever we love someone without inhibitions, without restraints, and without any strings attached.

We will be called drunken fools when we continue to challenge the status quo, question immoral systems of injustice, and disturb the peace.

For the Michals of the world despise this dance. And they will do everything in their power to stop this dance.

We have all heard their voices: loud echoes which discourage such dancing. “Don’t get too close to him. Do not give your heart to her. You will be sorry. They will only let you down.”

“Don’t love that man. He has done absolutely nothing to deserve it and will never reciprocate.”

“Don’t love that woman. She is too needy. She never does anything to help herself. She will demand too much.”

The voices of Michal say: “The system is not that broken. The poor get what they deserve. Most minorities have it pretty good in our country, and they are the real racists. Public education is not worth fighting for. Healthcare is not a right.”

The voices of Michal say: “Keep your faith private, personal. Keep it between you and God. Don’t stir up trouble. Just sit on a pew and look forward to going to heaven. Sing behind stained glass. Forget about being missional. Don’t worry about your neighbor. Don’t waste your time giving yourself away to strangers. Loving like that is crazy. It is too risky. It leads to too much pain.”

However, there is another voice, a Divine voice that was heard by David: “These are serious times, so let’s drink large draughts of the Holy Spirit, until we are all God-intoxicated! Let’s sing and dance in the streets with all we have.” It is a voice which says: “Let’s Dance!  Hold nothing back. Give yourself away. Surrender yourself to the beat of the heart of the gospel. Love. Love honestly and deeply. Love courageously and graciously. Lose yourself. Empty yourself. Pour yourself out. Question the systems of injustice. Defend the powerless. Stand up for the marginalized. Challenge the status quo. Disturb the peace.”

Will this love cause pain?  It will cause enormous pain. But the joy of God which will consume you will be so immense the suffering will be well worth it.

You’ve heard me quote the great Oklahoman theologian, Garth Brooks’: “I could have missed the pain, but I would have had to have missed the dance.”

Dancing the dance of the gospel will inevitably bring pain. However, never truly following in the steps of Jesus to avoid that pain is never really living. There is no joy being a wallflower on the wall of life or being a Sunday morning pew-napper.

So, let’s get our backs up off the wall! Let’s drink huge draughts of the spirit of God, and let us dance!  Let’s go out and dance in the streets of Enid and have seizures of prophetic ecstasy!

Now, be warned! We will look like drunken fools, and we will suffer for it. But the immense joy of God, the joy of abundant life, now and forevermore, is well worth it.

We Need a Little Pentecost

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment

john's ordinaiton

Acts 2:1-21 NRSV

Did anyone get what we were trying to do last Sunday afternoon in this place? Clergy, adorned in red stoles symbolizing the fire of the Holy Spirit, came from all over the Oklahoma and beyond to surround the Reverend John Wheeler in this place. Do you know we were doing in this area down front, laying our hands on John or on somebody that was laying their hands on John?

We were trying to bring John a little Pentecost!

Because Rev. John, bless his heart, certainly needs a little Pentecost—

-Graduating from seminary;

-Pledging a commitment to vocational Christian ministry;

-Dedicating his life to preach, not just any message, but the message of one who was forced to carry a cross for that message;

-Vowing to walk in the steps of the one who loved his neighbors with such a radical grace and inclusion that he was called a glutton and a drunkard who ate and drank with the wrong kind of people.

-Accepting the call to do the works of one who was run out of many a village for those works, who never made any money because of those works, and was arrested, beaten and crucified for  those works;

—Yes, Rev. John Wheeler, bless your heart, you certainly need a little Pentecost!

Pentecost is often called the day God gave birth to the ministry of all ministers—the day when the outpouring of God’s energy through the Holy Spirit swept down like wind and fire and touched all who had gathered for the Jewish festival.

New Testament professor Beverly Gaventa describes the energy that poured out that day as: “Sudden, unmerited, irresistible new life!”

And when you are called to be a minister, when you are called to be the church, to be the very hands and feet of one gave himself unto death, even death on a cross, oh how we need this life-giving power! Oh how we need a little Pentecost!

And this power came in dramatic, indescribable fashion. Gaventa writes: “It is as if not even the most lavish use of human language is capable of capturing the experiences of the day.” She writes: “All of the stops on the literary organ are employed: a heavenly sound like rushing wind, descending fire, and patterns of transformed speech.” That’s because there are just no words to describe this sudden, unmerited, irresistible gift of new life!

And this is exactly what Rev. Wheeler needs as he commits his life to ministry. And this is exactly what our church needs today if it is to continue to be the church God is calling us to be.

Before last Sunday’s ordination, perhaps the only thing that has come close to Pentecost for John and Sally was the time they held their son Luke, and a few years later, Chloe, in their arms for the very first time: feeling their soft skin pressed up against theirs, smelling their sweet heads, listening to their precious sounds. Sudden, unmerited, irresistible, new life. There are just no words in any language to describe the immense power of it, the sheer miracle of it.

This is what Acts 2 was trying describe that day that new life came.

Don’t you wished you could have been there at that festival that day to get you some of that! Don’t you wished you could have felt the wind, saw the fire, heard the miracle?

If only we, living today in the 21st century, could have been there on that day. Think of what Central Christian Church could be, rather would be, if only we could have been present on the Day of Pentecost. Think of impact we would have in our city and in our world if you and I could have received this indescribable gift of the outpouring of God’s energy. Think of all we could accomplish together in the name the Christ who loved all and poured out himself for all.

But we were not there, were we? Unfortunately for us, we were born nearly 2000 years too late. The Day of Pentecost was just a one-day, one-time event in human history, and we missed it all! God simply does not work that way in our world anymore.

Well, I don’t believe that, and I have this sense that you don’t either. That is why we had that ordination service last week for John: to make it happen all over again!

Theology Professor, Robert Wall, points out that the Pentecost experience of God’s Spirit occurred not only once, but is repeated several times in Acts. The images and language of Pentecost, Walls says, “are routinely recalled to interpret subsequent outpourings of God’s Spirit as the constant testimony to God’s continuing faithfulness.”

In the eighth chapter of the book of Acts, we read that after Peter and John laid their hands on the people of Samaria, they received the Holy Spirit.” They received sudden, unmerited, irresistible new life.

In the tenth chapter of Acts we read that while Peter was still preaching, “the Holy Spirit came on all who had heard the message. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were all astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles.”

Again, in the eleventh chapter Peter says, “As I began to speak the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us in the beginning.”

In the nineteenth chapter of Acts, after Paul baptizes twelve people in Ephesus, we read: “After Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came upon them….”

Throughout Acts we learn that Pentecost, the power of sudden, unmerited, irresistible new life is not a one-day, one-time event in human history. The gift of Pentecostal power is an experience which is repeated and repeated often in our world. And it is still being repeated today.

The truth is that I believe we have experienced the possibilities of Pentecost on numerous occasions. We just didn’t know what to call it.

The exhilarating discovery that a new baby is on the way. The miraculous birth of that baby. The excitement of a new job. The anticipation of a new school. The hope of a new marriage. The promise of new friendships. Yes, we have all experienced the grand possibilities which come with new beginnings, fresh starts or second chances.

And it is not only in the special events of life that we experience these possibilities. I believe when we consider that all of life is a gift of God’s grace, there is no event which is so ordinary that the Spirit of God is not present in it.

Frederick Buechner writes that God’s Spirit can be found in the most common of places, “always hiddenly, always leaving room to recognize him or not to recognize him, but all the more fascinatingly because of that, all the more compellingly and hauntingly.” Because all of life is a gift of God’s grace, inexplicable new life can be experienced everywhere!

Buechner writes that it can be found “Taking your children to school, and kissing your wife goodbye. Eating lunch with a friend.  Trying to do a decent day’s work.  Hearing the rain patter against the window.”

Yes, the possibilities of Pentecost can be experienced everywhere, but perhaps, most especially, as we reach out to others in unconditional love.

I do not believe it is a coincidence that in Acts we read that the gift of the Holy Spirit often came after Peter, John or Paul laid their hands on others. I believe one of the best ways to usher in the possibilities of Pentecost is by reaching out and personally touching others.

God’s energy is released and new life comes when we lay our hands on someone ordaining them to Christian ministry, but also when we graciously serve a meal to someone hungry, when we tenderly caress the forehead of someone in a nursing home, when we gently hold someone’s hand in a hospital, and when we empathetically embrace someone in a funeral home.

Pentecost comes when we, the body of Christ, lay our hands, which, by the way, are the hands of Christ, on all who are in need. Pentecost comes when we seek out someone who has wronged us to offer a handshake of forgiveness a hug of mercy, the grace of friendship. Pentecost comes when we welcome, accept and hold the hand of an outsider.

And the good news is that this sudden, unmerited, irresistible new life can come even in our darkest moments. Pentecost can happen, not just when something or someone is being born or reborn. Pentecost can come, not just with the sunrise of new day. The truth is that Pentecost can happen at what might seem to be the sunset. Sudden, unmerited, irresistible new life can happen even amidst the storm.

Peter, in his sermon, recalls the words of the prophet Joel. He recalls the signs Joel says are a prelude to disaster—blood, fire, darkness and smoky mist. However, the death and destruction prophesied by Joel is transformed on Peter’s tongue into a declaration of new life. For Joel, these signs of the outpouring of God’s Spirit are a prelude to disaster. But for Peter, with faith in the power of the risen Christ, these signs of God’s energy released are a prelude to the redemption of humankind.

Thus, whether it be days in our lives, or days in our church, that cause us to despair, God, with a power called Pentecost, can redeem the darkness of even death into the light of life.

Pentecost—this is our hope.  And this is our purpose. May Central Christian Church, who may not have been present on that day nearly 2000 years ago, but has, in so many ways, experienced this power of Pentecost nonetheless, work together to share this gift of new life with our city and our world. May we share it with our words, but also through the laying on of our hands of service, so that sudden, unmerited, irresistible new life may rain down from heaven like wind and fire and touch everyone!

Get Your Heads out of the Clouds

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year ALeave a comment
The 3rd Flying Squadron from Vance Air Force Base and their families.
The 33rd Flying Squadron from Vance Air Force Base and their families.

Acts 1:6-14 NRSV

I have had more than my fill of end-of-the-world Sunday School lessons and doomsday sermons. In the sixth grade, I had a Sunday School teacher who talked about the end of days and the imminent return of Christ every Sunday for a year. She clouded my head with charts and graphs, all indicating that Jesus was certainly going to come back before my high school graduation.

In seventh grade, our youth minister took us to see the movie The Late Great Planet Earth. Like the recent Left Behind movie with Nicolas Cage, it was about all these people disappearing in the rapture. Planes, trains and automobiles were all of sudden without drivers. I watched in horror as planes crashed into crowded cities, trains derailed, and automobiles collided on every street.

And if that was not enough to permanently scar me for life, it seems like every revival preacher I ever heard would preach that the Lord was going to return in their lifetime. This always bothered me, especially since most of these revival preachers were retired, and to me, looked like they only had two, maybe three good years left.

Today, you can find preachers on TV who are still preaching the imminent return of Christ. They point to world events—ISIS, Iran, North Korea and Russia—as signs that the end is near. If you took some of these preachers to heart, you’d never plan anything a week in advance. You sure wouldn’t be freezing strawberries, and you’d never buy green bananas!

This is where today’s scripture lesson offers us a little bit of sanity.

For months, the risen Christ had been warning his followers that he would one day leave them, but he had reassured them, “I will not leave you orphans.” He told them that when he left they were to return to Jerusalem and wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit.

In today’s lesson, the time that they had been dreading for weeks had come. But before he departed, they asked him what my Sunday School teacher and those revival preachers seemed to already know: “When will you come again and restore the kingdom to Israel?”

He replied: “It is not for you to know the time or the period…But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea, and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

After those words, he ascended into heaven, vanished from their sight, and left them standing there, gazing into the sky. They just stood there, looking up into the clouds.

And while they were gazing up toward heaven, while they had their heads in the clouds, suddenly, two men in white robes stood by them. They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

Jesus’ followers were instructed to get their heads out of the clouds. They didn’t need to be alarmed about the departure of Jesus, for Jesus would one day return to them. They don’t know when, but they don’t need to know. In the words of Jesus, “It’s not for them to know the time or the period.”

“All you need to know,” said the angels, “is that he is coming.” It’s a certainty; he’s coming, so you can stop looking into the clouds, and start living for him by doing what he has commanded, and being his “witnesses to the ends of the earth.”

I believe this wonderful Ascension story teaches those of us who are obsessed with the second coming of Christ, that we need to stop obsessing. We need to get our heads of the clouds and start living the way Jesus commanded us to live.

There are too many Christians who regard faith as some ticket to heaven. Their salvation is something to be possessed, held on to, not actually lived, or shared with others.

I believe this scripture reminds us to get our heads out of the clouds, get our minds off of heaven, and come back down to earth. Come down and go to Jerusalem. Come down and go into all of Judea and even into places that we do not want to go, like Samaria. Go and be a witness to the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ everywhere. Don’t go to church for the assurance that you possess something spiritual that others lack. Go and be the church by giving yourself to others who are the very image of God.

The story also teaches us that if we truly want to see God, if we really want receive the power of the Holy Spirit, instead of looking up in the clouds, all we have to do is to look around us.

In the play, Inherit the Wind, one of the characters says: “He got lost.  He was looking for God too high up and too far away.”

The truth is that we find God when we redirect our gaze from the heavens toward people, and toward the world around us. We find God when we understand that grace, salvation, and the love of God are not mere tickets to heaven, but something that is to be shared with all people every day here on earth.

And we find God through mirroring God’s love, a sacrificial, self-denying, self-expending love—a love from a God giving all that God has to give, for God so loved this world more than God’s self. Thus, our faith is about honoring a God who died for all.

Here in Enid, Oklahoma, our heavens are blessed with the roar of aircraft piloted by men and women who possess this same sacrificial, self-denying, self-expending love—a love that is willing to give all, for these men and women we see in the skies above us love their country more than self.

Tomorrow, we remember those who did give all, as they paid the ultimate sacrifice defending our freedom, but we also honor all who are willing to lay down their lives at a moment’s notice. And in Enid, living in the shadow of Vance Air Force Base, named for Leon Vance Jr. who heroically gave his all during World War II, all we have to do is walk outside and look toward the heavens to be reminded of these men and women.

But as our eyes are focused upward, we need to pay attention to the voice of angels: “Men and women, boys and girls of Enid, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? Get your heads out of the clouds and share this love—the love that you see in the jets flying overhead—share this love throughout Garfield County, across Oklahoma, and even into those places that you may not want to go.

This is the reason it has been such a wonderful blessing to welcome members of the 3rd and 33rd Flying Training Squadrons into our church the past two weeks to prepare and serve a hot meal to some of the the most impoverished men, women and children living in our community (last they week they served 60). The sacrificial love we hear and see in our skies literally came down to earth.

For when I walked into our church’s kitchen the last two Sunday afternoons, I saw none other than the very presence of the risen Christ. He had not disappeared into the clouds, but was right here in our church through the love of these service men and women who sacrificed a Sunday afternoon to feed the hungry. And there was no doubt that the risen Christ was also there sitting around those tables. You could see him clearly in the smiles, in the sincere gratitude of the ones who were being fed, accepted and embraced by selfless and unconditional love.

This is why the angels told the disciples to redirect their gaze, to get their heads out of the clouds. Stop looking for Jesus in the heavens. The angels said to them and says to us: “Look around you. In Jerusalem and Judea. But also look beyond you, even into Samaria, even in places that you may be afraid to go, places that may make you uncomfortable, places that may be painful, risky, dangerous.  Look, go, and live for Jesus, and you will find him.

Moshe is a prophet in Elie Wiesel’s book entitled The Oath.

Moshe was speaking with Azriel, the narrator of the story one evening after a meeting at the synagogue.

“You go to school?”  asked Moshe. “To what purpose?”

“To learn,” said Azriel.

“To learn what?”

“Torah,” the boy said uneasily (That’s the first five books of the Old Testament).

“Torah is life,” said Moshe, “and life must be lived; it cannot be learned from books, between four walls.”

“I thought,” said Azriel, “that Torah is more than life, since God himself submits to its commandments.”

“God too must be lived, my boy,” said Moshe. “You must live God, not study God in books, between four walls.”

Let us pray together.

God, help us to get our heads out of the clouds,

out of books,

out from these four walls,

and go out into the world to live Christ,

around us and even beyond us.

Help us to go and be the body of Christ,

be a community of grace,

of self-expending love,

and wholeness in our fragmented world. Amen.