Category: Sermons Year B

A Crowded Table

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year B1 Comment

Sermon delivered during the Interfaith Service of Unity at Peakland Baptist Church in Lynchburg, VA, Thanksgiving Day 2024

Isaiah 25:1-9 NRSV

I begin the sermon with the two questions that are on everyone’s mind today: #1 “Will this divided nation ever come together?” And #2 “When will there finally be peace on earth?”

Nah. That’s not it. The questions on everyone’s mind today are: #1 “What’s for dinner?” and #2 “Who’s all invited?”

The prophet Isaiah answers the first question “What’s for dinner?” with a song about God’s promise of a generous and extravagant table where (as we read in the New Revised Standard Version):

The Lord of hosts will make a feast of rich food, a feast of well-matured wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-matured wines strained clear.

I imagine Isaiah adding: “Did I mention we’ll be havin’ well-mature wines and rich food?”

Isaiah understands that life is best celebrated with plenty of delicious food and the best wines, particularly when times have been dark, when the table’s been empty, when the cupboards ae bare—when tyrants have the upper hand, when the shadows of chaos and catastrophe cover a nation, like it is being punished for their poor choices causing the entire creation to suffer.

In the previous chapter of Isaiah, we hear the desperate lament of the prophet:

The earth is utterly broken, the earth is torn asunder, the earth is violently shaken…the moon… abashed, and the sun ashamed (24:19, 23).

A dark shroud of universal dismay and despair covers the land. And there, under the dismal cover of darkness, everything good seems to be wasting away.

Of course, the first thing Isaiah grieves is the wine cellar. Isaiah cries out:

The wine dries up, the vine languishes, all the merry-hearted sigh, the mirth of the timbrels is stilled, the noise of the jubilant has ceased (24:7-8).

It is in this dry, dark, and desolate setting that a shocking announcement is made by the prophet. It comes in the form of a gracious invitation to attend a most extravagant dinner table with rich food and plenty of delicous wine!

Which brings us to the second question on our minds this day. Now that we know what’s for dinner, we want to know who’s all invited?

And here comes the real shock. Who’s invited? All are invited to enjoy the feast.

And notice that it’s like Isaiah understands that such radical inclusion will be difficult for some folks to believe. So, the prophet uses the word “all” five times in three verses to make sure he gets his point across!

In verse 6 we read that the table is “for all peoples.” And just in case some interpret all peoples to mean just the legal, documented citizenry, the prophet adds, “all nations, and all faces.”

Talk about a crowded table! A table where everyone whose got a face is welcome!

“All are welcome.” That’s the words that we are accustomed to seeing outside some of our houses of worship or our meeting places, right? All are welcome. But it was my son who once pointed out the fallacy of that simple welcome. Referring to the sign outside a church building where I once served, he commented: “Dad, all can’t be welcome unless someone is doing the welcoming. A better sign would read, ‘We welcome all.’”

I had never thought about that. But he’s right. For all to be welcome, someone must do the welcoming. Someone must put in some effort. Someone must take some initiative. Someone must have some radical intentionality to create the revolutionary hospitality. Especially if all faces are invited. Especially if strange faces might show up. And most especially if the table is going to be crowded with strange faces.

I will never forget the first time that my wife Lori came home with me to meet my parents back in 1987, a few months before we were engaged to be married. I am very tempted right now to tell you that it was Thanksgiving, but it was actually Easter.

After attending worship that Sunday, my family gathered around a very crowded table for dinner, nine of us scrunched up together to sit at a table made for six. My aunt and uncle and cousin joined my brother, sister, Mom, Dad, Lori, and me. I was sitting at one end of the able. Dad was seated to my left. And Lori was seated to my right.

As my father asked the blessing using the vernacular of King James in 1611, to make Lori feel welcome at the strange, crowded table, I took my foot under the table and gave Lori a little love-tap on her ankle. (Most inappropriate during the high Old English Eastertide blessing my father was offering, but I suppose that’s what made it so much fun). Feeling my affection under the table in the middle of the prayer, Lori made eye contact with me gave me the sweetest little grin. I know, we were so bad.

A few minutes went by, when Lori got the notion to reciprocate, reaching out her toe to tap my foot. But when she looked over at me, she was rather disappointed to see that I didn’t react. So, she did it once more, this time, a little more playfully. But again, I was as cool as a cucumber, sitting there eating my dinner like it never happened.

That’s because it never happened. Lori, in a state of confusion sat back and peered under the table, only to discover that she had been flirting with my father!

But here’s the thing. My dad also never reacted. He too sat there like it never happened.

Now, I can only come up with two explanations for Daddy’s stoic lack of response. The first one, which I refuse to believe, is that is he enjoyed it and didn’t want her to stop. So, the conclusion I have chosen to draw is that he realized that Lori, bless her heart, didn’t really know what she was doing, and thus he made the decision to extend grace. Instead of embarrassing her, he chose to forgive her, accept her, and love her.

To set a crowded table where every face is welcomed, all those at the table must be intentional when it comes to grace, more so if strange faces are present. All the grace Daddy offered that day would have been for naught, if my cousin, or one of my siblings, was gawking under the table judging all the inappropriate footsie carryings-on.

To set a gracious table, one where every face fed feels safe, appreciated, respected, affirmed, liberated, and loved, takes some work, especially for those faces who have not been feeling those things. To set such a table might mean that we have to go so far as to turn over a table or two. It might mean we need to get into some trouble, in the words of John Lewis, “some necessary trouble, some good trouble.”

Because as history as proved, there are always privileged tyrants in the world who believe it’s their role to play the judge: deciding who deserves a seat at the table and who should be excluded or deported.

I believe it is notable that the Hebrew word for “tyrant” is repeated three times in three verses (verses 3, 4 and 5). In Isaiah 13 and 49, we read that Babylon was the tyrant. But here in chapter 25 the lack of a specific reference conveys the frequent cyclical threat of tyrants throughout history—tyrants in every age whose refusal to demonstrate love and grace, to treat every face with equality and justice, benefits them and their friends at the top, while everyone else suffers, while “the wine drys up, the vine languishes, and all the merry-hearted sigh.”

In every generation, there are those seek to enrich themselves at the expense of others. And fearing a revolt of the masses who will certainly suffer, they lie and make up stories, conning the masses to believe that it’s not them and their oligarch cronies who are preventing them from having a seat at the table, sharing in the rich bounty of the table, but it’s some poor marginalized group who’s preventing them.

It’s the poor and the immigrants, the Eunuchs and the sexually different, the widows and the unmarried, we should fear. They are the ones who are poisoning our blood, making us weak, destroying our culture. The tyranny of the greedy and the powerful who are now at head of the table have nothing to do with our low position or no position at the table, or why there is so little on the plate in front of us.

So, not seated at the prophet’s extravagant table set with rich food and fine wines for all faces, are the tyrants. Because the problem with just one tyrant at the table is that all faces will no longer feel welcomed at the table, especially those who hunger and thirst for a seat at the table, those who have been the victims or the scapegoats of tyranny. These were Isaiah’s people, the faces for whom the prophet was most concerned: the faces of all who have been pushed to the margins: the faces of widows and orphans, the faces of Eunuchs and foreigners, the faces of the poor and needy.

This is the sacred table I believe people of faiths are being called to set in our world today: a large, crowded table where there is no injustice, no bullying, no cruelty, no hate, and no oppression whatsoever.

Setting such a gracious table will most certainly require possessing the courage to flip a table or two, as we will have to work diligently to prevent anything, or anyone, opposed to love from taking over the table.

Public dissent is essential around the table, because the one thing that tyrants count on is the silence of others. As the old German saying goes: “If one Nazi sits down at a table with nine people, and there is no protest, then there are ten Nazis sitting at that table.”

However, when the nine stand up, speak up, and speak out, taking steps to ensure that just love remains at the table, either the fascist will leave the table, taking their prejudice, fear, hate and toxicity with them, or they will find grace for themselves, experience liberation and redemption, and be given a welcomed place at table.

And in the safe space of the table, as the people eat and drink together, as they share their grief and cry together, as they are filled with grace and love together, the dark shroud that had been covering their world will begin to dissipate, and suddenly they will once again be able to celebrate and to laugh together.

Gathered around the crowded and diverse table, Palestinian and Jew, Ukrainian and Russian, Indigenous people and colonists, queer and straight, documented and undocumented, able-bodied, and differently-abled, brown, black and white, all God’s children begin to understand that they share more in common than that which divides them, most importantly, one God, one Lord, and Creator of all faces. And there around the prophetic table, they are able to see their great diversity as the very image of God.

So, what’s for dinner?

As prejudice leaves and fears are relieved and tears are wiped away, mercy and compassion are for dinner.

As disgrace is forgiven and barriers begin to fall, grace and love are for dinner.

As despair dissipates and sorrow fades, hope and joy are for dinner.

As plates are passed and the wine is consumed, as people are seen, their voices are heard, and their beliefs are respected, as enemies become friends, and strangers become siblings, peace and salvation are for dinner.

And who’s all going to be there?

Here, now, this afternoon, tomorrow, next year, and well into the future, around our family tables, around the tables of our faith, around the table of our city, around the table of our nation, around the table of the earth, all who believe in love and need love, all who hunger and thirst for justice, are going to be there! Your faces are going to be there, and my face is going to be there. We are all going to be there, regardless of our religion or lack thereof, ensuring that no one and no thing opposed to love, no matter how powerful, will be there.

And the good news, proclaims Isaiah, is that our hungry and thirsting God will be also there, seated in our midst at the very crowded table, swallowing everything in heaven and on earth that divides us from one another, and consequently, from the love of God.

God will be there with a ravenously righteous appetite, swallowing even death, forever. And the most divided of nations will be united as all become one, and on earth there will be peace, as the entire creation is born again. Amen.

When Christ Is King

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year B1 Comment

John 18:33-37 NRSV

Some of you may remember Yakov Smirnoff, the Ukrainian comedian, who was made famous in the 1980’s with the saying: “America: What a Country!”

When he first arrived in the United States, he was not prepared for the incredible variety of instant products in American grocery stores.

He once told the story of visiting a grocery store  just days after he came to America. He said:

“I love this country, I walked down one aisle and saw a jar of powdered orange juice—’just add water the jar’ said.  Isn’t that wonderful, just add some water and you get orange juice!”

He went on: “I walked down another aisle and saw a box of powdered milk. Just add water and you get milk.  Then ran across a box of powdered eggs. Just add water, and you get eggs.”

He said, “I then went down another aisle and saw a container that said, ‘Baby powder,’ and I thought to myself, ‘America: What a country!’”

I have wondered if those of us who have been a part of churches where infant baptism is not practiced are sometimes tempted to believe that when it comes to baptism. That all a congregation must do for someone to be made into a Christian, a follower of Jesus, is to just add some water. Just fill up the baptistry with water and get a person wet!  And before they can dry off, we are patting ourselves on the back saying: “Good job! We did it!! Our work as a church is now finished!” Hallelujah, praise the Lord!”

Consequently, the promises spoken and the commitments made during some baptismal events are solely made by the person being baptized. No promises are made by the congregation. The congregation’s work is over.

However, with the infant baptism that we just observed, it was only the congregation who made the promises, as precious little Phyllis Rose wasn’t able to promise anything. When an infant is baptized the work of the congregation is just beginning.

And, how appropriate is it in 2024 that we are making such commitments on this Christ the King Sunday, as commitments have never been more needed to following the peculiar, counter-cultural, other-worldly, other-realm way of life that Jesus decrees.

As Jesus reminded Pilate after he is arrested, when Christ is our King, our Kingdom, our truth, our worldview, our understanding of birth, life, and death, of meaning and purpose, is not from this world.

Jesus’ statement that if his followers were from this world, they would fight to keep him from being handed over, speaks to the hyper-masculinity of our current world.

Throughout world history, authoritarian tyrants have used hyper-masculinity as the solution to large, complex societal problems, such as some of the problems our country faces today: climate change, inflation, income inequality, loss of manufacturing, and the rise of artificial intelligence.

A history of sexual violence toward women and a felony record only helps such autocrats who claim that they alone have the manly strength to fix all that is wrong, offering a simple explanation for all problems of the nation: We are having these problems because there are these people who are making us weak, less masculine, like immigrants (who are polluting our blood) and LGBTQ people (who are polluting our sexuality and gender).

This reign of hyper-masculinity favors the super-rich, because as the poor continue to get poorer, instead of blaming the rich, the true source of their problems, they’ve been conned into blaming those who have polluted their sexuality and blood.

The reign of Jesus is the exact opposite, because the reign of Jesus heralds the truth that God favors the poor, the meek, and the peacemakers. The reign of Jesus heralds the good news that God favors those who hunger and thirst for justice and is on the side those who are grieving.

The reign of Jesus supports the most vulnerable, stands on the side of the marginalized, defends the rights of women, elevates the widow, and defends the Eunuch.

The reign of Jesus fills the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty. The reign of Jesus casts down the powerful and lifts up the lowly and decrees that the Kingdom of God belongs to little children like Phyllis Rose.

This is why our commitments today through this service of baptism to guide Phyllis in the way of Jesus are so important. In a world where Phyllis will be bombarded with lies, made-up stories, and propaganda pulling her in the opposite direction, we as the church must be intentionally vigilant in our efforts to guide Phyllis in the gospel truth.

In a world where many do not understand Jesus’ kingship, and others, even those in the church, reject it outright, we’ve made promises before God today to demonstrate to Phyllis that Christ is our King. That the voice that we listen to has never sat on any earthly throne or ever once occupied the White House.

And the voice we listen to tells us that those in this world who have power over us, those who control our thoughts and our actions, are not the strong, the powerful, and the hyper-masculine. But they are the weak, the powerless, and the most vulnerable among us.

And that the perfect example of those with the most power in our lives, in our world, is the tiny precious infant we have baptized this day.

Because, when Christ is King, little children reign supreme.

When Christ is King, the least among us are the greatest, and the last are first.

When Christ is King the humble are exalted and the meek inherit the earth.

When Christ is King, there is no longer male or female, but all are one.

When Christ is King (in the beautiful words of feminist artist Judy Chicago), then…

All that has divided us will merge

And then compassion will be wedded to power

And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind

And then both men and women will be gentle

And then both women and men will be strong

And then no person will be subject to another’s will

And then all will be rich and free and varied

And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many

And then all will share equally in the Earth’s abundance

And then all will care for the sick and the weak and the old

And then all will nourish the young

And then all will cherish life’s creatures

And then all will live in harmony with each other and the earth.

And then everywhere will be called Eden once again

Amen.

Birth Pangs!

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

Mark 13:1-8 NRSV

One of the great things about living in southern Louisiana were the countless stories I heard about two infamous Cajuns named Boudreaux and Thibodeaux.

One story goes like this:

Pastor Boudreaux was the pastor of a small, rural church and Rev Thibodeaux was the pastor of similar church directly across the road. One day, they were both standing out by the road in front of their churches, each pounding a sign into the ground as fast as they could. The sign read:

“Da End is Near. Turn Yo Sef ‘Roun Now Afore It Be Too Late!”

As soon as the signs got into the ground, a car passed by. Without slowing down, the driver leaned out his window and yelled as loud as he could: “You bunch of religious nuts!”

Then, from the curve in the road Boudreaux and Thibodeaux could hear tires screeching, and then, a great big splash!

Pastor Boudreaux yells at Rev. Thibodeaux across the road and asks: “Do ya tink maybe da signs should jus say ‘Bridge Out’?”

I wonder sometimes if I am like that poor driver, as I am quick to look past scripture like Mark chapter 13 thinking that such passages about the end of days is for the nuts of my faith. After reading each of the lectionary lessons, I told Jeremy and Maria earlier this week that I was going to sidestep Mark 13 and preach the epistle lesson of Hebrews. My thinking was that, right now, no one in this church wants to hear about the end of the world. If we wanted to hear about dooms day, we’d just turn on the TV and watch the news!

And right now, to keep ourselves from sinking any further into the depths of the utter despair, many of us are trying to avoid the news.

However, all week, there’s something about this strange, cataclysmic passage in Mark that kept drawing me to it, something hauntingly relevant, eerily significant.

Most scholars believe Mark was written during, or just after, the catastrophic Jewish revolt against the Roman occupation of Palestine in the year 66. The Roman army crushed the revolution destroying the Jewish temple, and the Jewish people could not have felt more defeated and more hopeless.

Thus, the message of Mark’s Gospel is a message of hope proclaimed amid great devastation and despair. To really hear the message, to truly understand its meaning, we need to listen from a position of desolation, chaos, bewilderment, and panic.

See what I mean when I say, “hauntingly relevant?”

In the ancient world, whenever the forces of darkness seemed to be on the winning side— whenever the powers of deception, division, and oppression seemed victorious over truth, unity, and freedom— whenever fear, hate, and greed seemed to conquer love, justice, and compassion— people sought hope by turning to a peculiar genre of literature called “apocalyptic.”

“Apocalypse” is a word that sounds foreboding and dystopian. We associate it with “impending doom” or “the end of days.” But it literally means “to uncover” or “to reveal” a vision of hope during those times when all hope seems lost.

It’s where the book of Revelation gets its name as it is written a beautiful letter of hope to Christians in Ephesus who were suffering under the tyranny of a narcissistic authoritarian name Caesar Domitian. The book of Daniel is another example of such literature as it was written to encourage Jewish people to refuse to bow down to another narcissistic autocrat named Nebuchadnezzar.

The purpose of all apocalyptic literature is to inspire resistance to the fascism and oppression that is in every age. And it does so “by envisioning an imminent future in which God comes to the rescue in spectacular, vividly poetic fashion,” righting all wrongs and setting things right, inaugurating a new era of liberty, justice, and compassion.[i]

Apocalyptic literature paints a hopeful portrait of God pulling back the veil of what we read in the paper, or watch on the news, to reveal what God is truly up to in this world, revealing that God is still at work transforming sorrow into joy, despair into hope, and death into life.

Despite all appearances, Mary’s song that we call the “Magnificat,” like Hannah’s song from 1 Samuel that inspired our Call to Worship this morning, is even now being fulfilled. Wickedness is perishing. Righteousness thunders. Grief is becoming gladness, times of trial, times peace. The powerful are coming down from their thrones. The lowly lifted up. The hungry filled with good things, and the rich sent away empty. Despite all appearances, under the great veil of darkness and despair, love is winning, justice is coming, healing is happening, freedom is ringing, possibilities are growing, and the entire creation is being born again.

In Mark 13 we read Jesus’ warning to the faithful not to be led astray. Jesus challenges his disciples to see the good news behind the veil, the love behind the fear, the mercy behind the hate, while resisting being among the many who will led astray by those who say, “I am he!” or something like “I alone can fix it.”

When we hear of wars and rumors of wars, of nations that are rising up against nation or are deeply divided, when we hear of natural disasters, when we witness the entire creation crying out in angst and agony, the challenge for the faithful, says Jesus, is to believe that all of this is but “the beginning of the birth pangs.”

“The beginning of the birth pangs.” What a beautiful, hopeful, and expectant description of the suffering of this world! The groaning of creation is but a sign that something new, something wondrous, and ironically enough, something inconceivable, is about to be born. Our grief that is associated with the oppression and hate of this world is but a holy movement of liberation and justice that is even now in gestation. Our grief is the dawning of a new era of healing, mercy, and love.

I believe Jesus is saying: Right now, things are terribly bleak. People are being led astray, many in my name. You have great, seemingly unsurmountable obstacles before you, as large as the giant blocks of stone Herod used to build the temple. You are reeling in shock, sadness, and anger. You are fearful for your neighbors who are vulnerable, undocumented, Muslim, or transgendered. You are grieving the loss of friends and family led astray by lies, fear, and hate.

But that pain that you have? That ache that feels like you’ve been punched in the gut? That wrenching inside of you that keeps you awake at night?

It only means that you are in labor! It only means that something miraculous is about to be born! The misery you feel and the suffering you are enduring are but birth pangs from the Holy One— signs of the inbreaking of the kingdom of God, signs that God is on the move and moving inside of you. Your grief, your stress, and your sleepless nights are but holy contractions letting you know that God is coming in you and through you, to rescue, to restore, and to rebuild.

Jesus is saying: Take heart! All the obstacles before you, no matter how large and impressive, will be thrown down. The mighty upon their thrones shall fall. The hungry fed. The lowly lifted up. The yokes of oppression broken. For the God of love and justice is turning the whole world upside-down, or right-side up!

This past Thursday local clergy with the executive directors of Interfaith Outreach and Park View Mission met downtown at the El Mariachi restaurant for our weekly meeting to support one another while figuring out how to solve all the world’s problems, starting of course here in Lynchburg.

Like all good clergy gatherings, we started the meeting complaining about bad religion, lamenting over the state of the Church today—how many, maybe the majority of churches today, are not just off-track, but having been led astray, they are actually heading in the opposite direction from which they should be going. We shared our grief how this has led to our current national crisis.

We grieved the number of good people we know who have given up on the church. How at one time they claimed to be Christian and were part of a church, only to watch the people in their church behave in the most un-Christlike of ways, disparaging and denigrating the people whom Jesus cared for the most: the poor, the vulnerable, and the marginalized.

We concurred with Lutheran pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber who said:

People don’t leave Christianity because they stop believing in the teachings of Jesus. People leave Christianity because they believe in the teachings of Jesus so much, they can’t stomach being a part of an institution that claims to be about that and clearly isn’t.

Todd Blake from Park View and Shawne Farmer from Interfaith Outreach lamented the great needs in our city and shared their fears that things were only going to get worse.

Then, in our grief, we began to brainstorm together. We explored ways we could take the love and justice movement (that we believed we were somehow a part of as an interfaith clergy group) and expand it. We talked about ways we could invite others to join, not our churches, but to join a movement we are calling “Just Love Lynchburg,” a movement whose only agenda is love and justice. We discussed creative ways to recruit volunteers to support the work of Interfaith Outreach, Park View Mission and others who are doing good work, mobilizing volunteers of different faiths or of no faith who believe that the greatest thing we can do while we are on this earth is to love our neighbors as ourselves, especially our most vulnerable and marginalized neighbors.

  We started talking about building a “Just Love Lynchburg” float for the upcoming Christmas parade. We talked about how going to church and inviting people to come to church with us isn’t going to make this world a better place, or our city a more just and equitable place—that only love can do that.

Excitement around our table grew. We got a little loud. And suddenly and miraculously, El Mariachi transformed from a Mexican restaurant into a labor and delivery room!

Now, I am sure our exuberance baffled the other patrons who overheard our hope and witnessed our joy while they sipped their sipped their margaritas and dipped tortillas in queso. Some of them probably scoffed, whispering to one another, or at least thinking: “what a bunch of religious nuts!”

The good news is, even for all who scoff and doubt, the veil is being lifted, and the holy truth is being revealed. Despite all appearances, under the current cover of darkness, defeat, and despair, love is winning. For the pain we are feeling today only means that the Holy One is moving, moving even now, in each one of us. Our sufferings are but birth pangs, letting us know that a little something miraculous is growing inside of each of us, and those little somethings, collectively, because we are all in, together, have the power to change the world.

Thanks be to God.

[i] https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/lectionary-commentary-for-twenty-sixth-week-after-pentecost

A Word from the Lord

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

I Kings 17:8-16 NRSV

More than one person has reached out to me this week saying, “I hope you’ve been working on your sermon, because I really need to hear a word of hope and encouragement from you.”

But there’s a tiny little problem with that. I am not sure I have such a word, because after this week, I need someone to share a word of hope and encouragement with me.

What I need today, and what I believe you need, is not a word from a preacher. What we need today is a word from the Lord.

The good news is that is how our Hebrew Lesson this morning begins. In verse 8 we read:

The word of the Lord came to him.

Whenever I read a verse like this one, someone will inevitably comment: “I sure wished the Lord spoke to people today like God did back in the day.”

Well, I believe God is still speaking. The problem is we’re usually not listening.

The passage continues:

Go now to Zarephath and live there; for I have commanded a widow there to feed you when you arrive.

The good news is that the Prophet Elijah is listening. For he sets out and goes immediately to Zarephath.

And when he comes to the gate of the town, just as the Lord had said, he meets a widow who is gathering a couple of sticks to build a fire for supper. Elijah calls out to this one who has been commanded by the Lord to invite him to supper: “Will you pour me a glass of water? And while you’re at it, bring me a slice of bread?”

But she answers:

As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked. I have only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug.

Like many our nation today, maybe she wasn’t listening when the Lord commanded her to extend hospitality to strangers when they arrive at your border.

Or perhaps she heard the command. She just doubted the command. But maybe she didn’t so much doubt the command as she feared the command.

Perhaps she wanted to follow the command. She just didn’t feel like she was able, that she had any more to give. For she had fought so hard, given so much, only to have everything for which she worked for taken away.

Like us, the widow remembered more triumphant times: when freedom was won for the enslaved; opportunity won for immigrants; liberation won from fascism; civil rights won for minorities; reproductive rights were won for women; and civil rights and protections won for the LGBTQ community.

But now there’s a great famine in the land, and paralyzed by grief, the widow didn’t know how to follow the commands of the Lord. How could she keep giving? How could she continue loving? She had almost nothing left. She’s distraught and disillusioned, dejected and depleted. She didn’t see any way forward.

The last time she checked her pantry, she saw that she had only enough flour and oil to make one final meal for her and her family. Then, in the midst famine in the land, she knew that they would surely die.

Elijah then says something to the widow that many of us need to hear today. The prophet says: “Do not be afraid.”

But, there’s something patronizing, hollow, even offensive, about those words.

Hebrew Scripture Professor Katherine Schifferdecker imagines the widow responding:

Easy for you to say! You’re not the one preparing to cook one last meal for yourself and your son before you die. You’re not the one who has watched your supply of flour and oil relentlessly dwindle day-by-day, week-by-week, as the sun bakes the seed in the hard, parched earth. You’re not the one who has watched your beloved son slowly grow thinner and more listless.

In other words: the privileged audacity to tell me not to be afraid! You’re not a widow. You’ve never been devalued, been the victim of injustice or ever been this vulnerable.

We can hear her saying:

You’re not an immigrant. You’re not transgendered. You’ve never had anyone despise your very existence. You’re not poor. You don’t depend on Affordable Care or live on Social Security. You don’t live in Ukraine or Gaza or in states where women have fewer rights. You’ve never had to worry about being refused medical care and you have never feared dying from a miscarriage. You’ve never had to plead for your life to matter, only to get ridiculed for doing so. You’ve never been labeled “the enemy from within” or “the problem with the country.”

You’ve never walked in my shoes. You don’t know how many miles I have marched for liberty and justice. You don’t know how many friends I’ve lost, how many family members I’ve offended, the bullying I’ve endured, by standing on the side of those demeaned by sick religion and by a culture of greed. You don’t know all I’ve sacrificed. You’ve never felt my prayers of anguish and tears.

But Elijah says to her once more: ‘Do not be afraid; go and bake a little cake and bring it to me, and afterwards bake something for yourself and your son’ (1 Kings 17:13).

Schifferdecker continues:

How dare this prophet of God ask me for cake, knowing that I have so little? Who does he think he is, asking me for bread before I feed my own? I told him that I have only ‘a handful of meal, a little oil, and a couple of sticks.’ There’s not enough. And Death waits at my door.

Then the good news, a word from the Lord comes:

For thus says the Lord the God of Israel: ‘The jar of meal will not be emptied, and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth.’

When you are knocked down and can’t see any path forward, when you feel like we have nothing left to give, if you can somehow, someway summon the courage to rise up to continue following the difficult and risky commands of the Lord, loving courageously and giving generously, if you dare to step outside our comfort zones to follow the steps of the Lord, you can be assured that “Your jar will not be emptied, and your jug will not fail.”

 So, she got up, maybe hesitantly, perhaps fearfully, but that didn’t matter.The only thing that mattered was that she got up and faithfully followed the Lord’s command. And she and her household ate for many days.

The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah (1 Kings 17:14-16).Do you hear it? Are you listening? It’s a word from the Lord.

 Maybe we hear it, but we are still doubting it, still fearing it.

 Following the commands of Jesus these days is just too dangerous. We need to play it safe. Focus inward. Get out of from politics. Stay away from trouble.

As sure as the Lord God lives, it’s too risky to speak truth to power. We can’t continue to call out their lies and their greed, their stoking the fires of fear, their fanning the flames of hate, their sowing the seeds of vulgarity, division, and violence.

As sure as the Lord God lives, we just don’t have enough power now to fight for the rights of women which have been stripped away, the rights of immigrants threatened with deportation, or fight for the rights of transgendered people, that those with all the power now, want to erase.

Have you heard the news? Do you know what is going on? There’s an anti-Christ spirit gripping our land! As sure as the Lord God lives…

We can’t afford put the needs of others over our own when it is more popular to serve only ourselves.

We can’t identify with the least when it is more popular to scapegoat them for all the country’s problems.

We can’t welcome the immigrant when it is more popular to dehumanize and deport them.

We can’t be peacemakers when it is more popular to support a militia.

We can’t preach loving our enemies when it is more popular to call for their executions.

We can’t care for our environment when it is more popular to scoff at science.

We can’t mention words like “racism,” “sexism,” “Antisemitism,” “Islamophobia,” and “transphobia” when it is more popular to hate.

We can’t support affordable healthcare, fair living wages and access to equitable education when it is more popular to do the exact opposite.

We can’t follow Jesus these days when it is more popular to just worship Jesus.

We simply don’t have enough left to follow the risky commands of the Lord.

We don’t have enough sticks to lose ourselves.

There’s not enough meal in the jar to deny ourselves.

And there’s not enough oil in the jug to even think about picking up a cross.

When morale is low and our sticks are about to run out, when we can see the bottom of the jar, and we’re squeezing mere drops from the jug, the grace of Jesus seems too extravagant, the mercy of Jesus too generous, and the love of Jesus too gracious. The light that Jesus commands us to shine takes too much energy and involves too much risk! And we are afraid we just don’t have what it takes.

We doubt such light. We question such light. We fear such light.

Our defense mechanisms are telling us that, right now, it’s best to keep the light hid, out of sight, tucked away under a bushel. Fear tells us to take down the flag, get off the internet, and retreat behind locked doors.

But then comes a word from the Lord.

Are we listening?

When an anti-Christ spirit possesses the nation;

and we’re tempted to believe we do not have enough sticks to keep the fire burning;

that we need to retreat into the sanctuary;

that we need to accept a personal, private Jesus, keep him deep down our hearts and out of the public square;

that we need to be tightfisted with grace, scrimp on mercy, and be stingy with love;

Behold, we hear a word from the Lord:

“Do not be afraid. Because when you follow the commands of God, your jar will never be emptied and your jug will never fail, and as long as you are working for justice, you will always have a great big pile of sticks!”

There’s no number of bomb threats from Russia, no amount of misinformation from Elon, no amount of lies on Fox News, no amount of false prophets in our churches, bullies on the city council, or fascism in the White House, that will  ever empty your jar.

There’s no amount of hate in Congress, meaness in the Senate, and Christian Nationalism on the Supreme Court, that will ever cause your jug to fail!

There’s no new policy, no executive order, no tweet, and no political rally that will ever deplete your basket of sticks!

In the Second chapter of Kings, we read about a man who brings the prophet Elisha a prophet’s tithe: Twenty loaves of bread and some fresh ears of grain in a sack.

Elisha accepts the tithe, but says, I want you to take this food and give it to 100 people who who are very poor.

The man responds: “But there’s just no way. There is not enough food here to set before a hundred people.”

But then comes a word from the Lord: “Because of your great faith in giving to the Lord during this time of scarcity, I have this feeling that there’s is going to be more than enough.”

The man set the food before the people, and there was not only enough, but it was indeed more than enough, as they had leftovers.

Just like they had after the disciples fed 5,000 people with a few loaves and a couple of fish.

Just like I am sure they had had after Jesus turned water into all that delicious wine!

Just like I am sure they had after the father welcomes the prodigal son home with that extravagant dinner party!

The good news is that God is still speaking today. God is still filling jars and replenishing jugs, and in God’s kingdom, the sticks that fuel the fire of the Holy Spirit are renewable resources!

So, let’s listen up! Don’t doubt, and don’t be afraid!

Let’s follow the commands of the Lord. Let’s love generously, love extravagantly, and love graciously! Let’s deny ourselves. Take up a cross. Take a risk. Continue to put the needs of others ahead of our own. Let’s make some folks uncomfortable. Be willing to lose a friend. All the while being kind, doing justice, walking humbly, speaking truth to power, preaching good news to the poor, and proclaiming freedom to the oppressed.

Let’s show the world that hope will never be silent, faith will never fade, and love will never cower.

Because, although we may think we don’t have what it takes, there is enough. There will always be enough.

No, in God’s abundant mercy, there will always be more than enough.

This is the word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

A Vision of Heaven

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

Revelation 21:1-6a

Well, as someone who loves you and is concerned for your well-being, I need to ask you, “How are you doing?”

“Well, preacher, how do you think we are doing!”

“We are living in some very uncertain days. These are some very dark times. We are living in the shadow of grief and despair. Our entire future is in doubt. We are anxious, as there is so much to fear. People have rejected the gospel, the good news towards the poor, the immigrant, all who live on the margins.

And there’s this narcissistic, authoritarian tyrant in our land. And people we know and love, are bowing down to him. They are not just defending him, but they seem to worship him. He spews hate, and the people cheer! He threatens anyone who is against him, and the people love it!”

Of course, I am talking about Caesar Domitian, that ruthless ruler of the Roman Empire who persecuted Christians in the first century. And I’m imagining a conversation between the Christians who lived during that time in Ephesus, and a concerned preacher named John, the author of the beautiful letter of hope that we call Revelation.

Imprisoned on the island of Patmos for offending the powers-that-be by preaching the inclusive good news of the gospel, John writes a powerful letter of encouragement in which he describes the divine culmination of all that is, a heavenly vision to hold out for and to work towards—a beautiful vision of a new heaven and a new earth and a holy city; where, in the end, all who thirst for peace and justice and love will drink from the spring of the water of life.

Now, to be honest (in a way that may be offensive to some), the promise of going to heaven one day to live forever and ever and ever and ever has not always been appealing to me. I have never desired to live in a mansion or walk on streets of gold. Because I seek to follow Jesus who intentionally identified with the poor, such opulence turns my stomach.

Floating on a cloud playing a harp for all of eternity has never sounded like good times to me. Furthermore, I have always been leery of Christians who seem to make going to heaven one day the whole point of what it means to be a Christian. That sounds rather selfish to me. And when I consider the selflessness of Jesus, the words and works of Jesus, I believe that type of theology misses the whole point of what Christianity is all about.

Consequently, I believe the vision of heaven in Revelation (while it might be our eternal home) it’s not so much our future home, as it is our present purpose. It’s not so much our final destination, as it is our daily goal. It’s not so much where we are going when we die, as it is what we are called to create while we are alive. It’s God’s vision of what the world should be, could be, and will be. It’s the vision of the kingdom of God that we seek to prophetically proclaim. It’s the vision of life that we are praying for and working toward until it fully and finally comes on earth as it is in heaven.

It is the vision we are called to live into no matter the outcome of Tuesday’s election, as we know that the status quo is not the divine destiny. The current darkness of hate and division, even if it grows darker, is not the holy purpose that God is calling every human to and leading the entire creation toward.

What does heaven, this holy purpose look like?

We are called to live into a vision of a world where no one is thirsting for their lives to matter, where no one is treated as second-class or is ever called “garbage.” In the twenty-second chapter, in rich, symbolic language we read that the water of life which quenches all thirst is a mighty river flowing, bright as crystal, from the very throne of God, accessible to all in the middle of the holy city’s main street!

What does heaven look like?

On both sides of the river, again, accessible to all, we read there is a tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, and the leaves on the trees have the power to heal the nations, bringing an end to all war and violence, greed and oppression, sickness and disease.

What does heaven look like?

We continue reading that nothing accursed will be there. There will be no more hate; no more bigotry; no more ugliness; no more name-calling; no more racism and sexism; nothing that is vile, foul, or evil.

What does heaven look like?

Here’s my favorite part: Heaven looks like the servants of Christ, all the saints of God, gathered around the throne worshipping together. The good news is that we don’t have to only imagine heaven or just read about heaven. The good news is that we have seen heaven. We have experienced heaven.

For what does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like Coretha Loughridge. Heaven looks like a saint who faithfully and courageously lived into the vision of heaven as she answered a call to ministry during a time when most believed that God only calls men to such a vocation. Undeterred by the prevailing sexism of the culture and attacks from misogynistic bullies in the church, Coretha not only faithfully served as a pastor and as a regional minister, she taught, modeled, and exemplified the radical inclusivity that we see worshipping around the throne in Revelation, encouraging countless other women to follow in her steps.

And the good news is this saint of God, is still encouraging and still inspiring the church to stand up today for the rights of women in a patriarchal religious culture where men seek to subjugate women, objectify women, control women, tell women what they need, whether they like it or not.

What does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like Dorothy Watkins. Heaven looks like this saint who lived into the vision of heaven by teaching us that when grief casts a dark shadow in our world, when the dark clouds of despair appear our world, when it seems impossible see any path forward, we can carry on knowing that the darkness will not overcome us.

Dorothy became well-acquainted grief at a very young age when she experienced the untimely death of her father who died when he was only 34 years-old and was subsequently sent to live in an orphanage. Then as an adult, Dorothy lost her husband, like her father, before he turned 40. She later lost her stepson Daniel, and then lost her granddaughter Christy in a tragic car accident.

The miracle was that though the darkness overshawdowed her, it did not defeat her. With faith Dorothy persevered, as evidenced through her selfless service with Fairview Christian, Euclid Christian and First Christian Church, and through her dedicated work as an accountant with Herb Moore and the Lynchburg Covenant Fellowship. Dorothy’s light shined in the darkness teaching us that no matter how dark the world seems, faith will not be dimmed. Hope will not fade. And love will never die.

What does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like Linda Cox. After teaching for Lynchburg Public Schools, Linda and Bryan moved to Northern Virginia in 1974 for Bryan’s new job. At the time, public schools were not hiring, so she interviewed for a teaching position at the Catholic School where she was asked how she felt about teaching black kids. Linda’s response was beautiful, saying: “kids are kids.”

“Kids are kids” –a simple, but at the same time, a profound vision that is perhaps most needed in a world where there are powers that seek to divide us and keep us afraid of one another. A beautiful, holy vision needed today where the children of God are dehumanized, referred to as “vermin,” “an infestation,” “dogs,” “aliens,” “low-IQ,” “low-life,” “bimbo, “human scum,” or “theys” who are “poisoning the blood of our country.”

I love how Revelation describes the divine human destiny. In Revelation 7, we read where every person is present—all nations, all tribes, all races, and all languages. Puerto Ricans are there. Haitians are there. Mexicans are there. Venezuelans are there. Palestinians are there. All ethnicities, all languages, all people are there, and all means all.

What does heaven look like?

Our holy purpose looks like diversity, equity, and inclusion. Our divine destiny that we are praying for, working toward, and fighting to create, is a world where “kids are kids” and there not distinction between male and female, Jew and Gentile, slave and free, as all are one. Our present purpose is what Jesus taught, modeled, and embodied, and it is what the saints of God we remember this day lived.

And now, as someone who loves you and is concerned for your well-being, (it’s me now, not John) I need to ask you, “How are you doing?”

“Well, preacher, with a holy vision of a new heaven and new earth, how do you think we are doing!

We are living in some uncertain days. These are some very dark times, but our future is not in doubt, thus we have nothing to fear. For our hope has been revealed. We’ve seen our destiny. We have been shown our purpose. We have heard our calling; thus, echoing the words of Bishop Steven Charleston, a Native American elder and citizen of the Choctaw Nation, whose people have endured days much darker than we have:

When they hate, we will love!

When they curse, we will bless!

When they hurt, we will heal!

Because we are servants of the light!

And we are not afraid of the darkness.

We will carry on with our work as stewards of the Earth and all her children.

When they divide, we will unite!

When they rage, we will calm!

When they deny, we will affirm!

We will simply be who we are, for that is what the Spirit has created [and destined] us to be.”

Amen.

 

Commissioning and Benediction

Envisioning the divine destiny of this world, having received a revelation that the saints of God have shared and share this day, may our faith, hope and love be a beacon for others who feel as though darkness has engulfed them.

Let’s go and be who we are, the people the God has created, Christ has called, and the Spirit has destined and is leading us to be. Amen.

We’re on the Way

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

Mark 10:46-52 NRSV

The first thing we learn from our scripture lesson this morning is that Jesus and his disciples are on the move. They are on the way. Jericho was not the final destination. There is one last stop to make. Jerusalem: Where furious religious leaders, offended by the good news of the gospel toward those who are poor, ashamed of the grace of the gospel toward those who have been cast aside, and shocked by the topsy-turviness of the gospel toward those considered to be the least, have been plotting to put an end to all. Jerusalem: Where a selfless Jesus is prepared to love and to forgive and to be killed for the sake of the gospel.

It is on this way, this way of self-denial and self-giving, this way of self-expending love for all people, especially those who are otherized, demonized and marginalized, that Jesus is confronted by a man who fits every one of those descriptions. His name is Bartimaeus. He is not only blind, he’s also a beggar. He’s helpless, and he’s poor. He’s disabled and he’s dismissed. Because many believed there must be some reason for his blindness, he is judged and demonized. And, in desperation, this “other” is waiting for Jesus on the side of the road. From the margins, he’s waiting for some love. He’s waiting for some justice, and he is waiting for some grace.

He jumps up and pleads: “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

And notice the actions of the crowd. They try to silence him, for they simply don’t want to hear his cries.

Does that sound familiar?

Have you ever been on the way somewhere, met someone, nodded your head and asked: “How ya doin’?” It’s a stereotypical pleasantry, an informal greeting. You expect them to nod back, and say something like, “I’m good, how ya doin’?”

But then, to our surprise, the person doesn’t answer the way we expect them to answer, the way we want them to answer, the way we believe they should answer. No, this person decides to unload on you. They have all of these aches and pains, all of these troubles and frustrations, all kinds of maladies that you label as TMI.

We don’t like TMI, especially when the TMI has to do with suffering.

I believe this is one of the reasons we tend to avoid people who have some sort of disability. Their suffering threatens us, because their circumstances are a reminder of how vulnerable all of us are. We know that if it could happen to them, it could happen to us, or to one of our loved ones. So, we prefer to keep the sick, the troubled, the unfortunate, and the disabled out of sight, thus out of mind.

I admire companies like Target and Kroger who make it their mission to hire disabled persons. Fortunately, there are many advocates today for the disabled and others who have been marginalized by society who are urging them to come out, to come forward, to speak up, and to seek equity and equality.

This blind beggar does just that. Despite the crowd who “sternly orders him to be quiet,” the man keeps yelling at Jesus, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” “Son of David, have mercy on me!”

And the good news is that Jesus hears his voice. Jesus stops. And Jesus calls him to come over.

Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”

Not surprisingly, blind Bartimaeus says, “My teacher, let me see again.”

And Jesus does just that.  He says, “Go, your faith has made you well.”

Then Mark describes something that he never describes when telling a healing story. Out of all the folks that were healed in Mark’s gospel, Bartimaeus is the only one who chooses to follow Jesus “on the way.”  Out of all the people who were healed by Jesus, Bartimaeus is the only one who becomes a disciple and follows Jesus on the way to Jerusalem; on the way to the cross; down the road of self-denial and self-expenditure; down the road of grace, mercy, justice, abundant and eternal life.

Thus, what we have here in this text is not just another miraculous healing story, but a wonderful story of discipleship. And guess what? It’s not just a story about one blind beggar. It is a story about you and me.

For, I believe we sometimes tend to come to Jesus asking him to heal us, solve our problems, fix what’s wrong with us. We come to Jesus saying: love me, feed me, hold me, and make me happy. Give me some sense of fulfillment. We come to church hoping that we might get something out of Jesus, something from Jesus, that he might give us some semblance of peace and joy. We come to Jesus seeking help, wholeness, security, and spiritual bliss.

But how many of us come to Jesus because we are truly willing to follow Jesus as a disciple, especially to those places that we know Jesus is heading?

After restoring Bartimaeus’ sight, Jesus tells him that he can go on his way. And who would blame Bartimaeus if he turned around right then to go on his way? Think of all the places he might want to go! Think of all the sights that he might want to see with his new eyes!

Bartimaeus could have gone home with his new-found faith in Jesus and love for Jesus. He could have been content knowing that Jesus heard his cries, restored his sight, and gave him salvation.

But Bartimaeus doesn’t go his way.

Bartimaeus goes Jesus’ way.

Bartimaeus chooses to follow Jesus. Where? Toward Jerusalem. Toward rejection. Toward a mission of love, mercy, and justice that will make some in power label him “the enemy within.” Bartimaeus chooses to follow Jesus all the way to the cross.

The irony is that Bartimaeus is introduced to us in this story as “a blind man.” However, Bartimaeus proves he may see Jesus much better than many who call themselves “Christians” today.

Bartimaeus teaches us that this thing we call “Christianity,” this thing we call “church,” is all about following Jesus.

Jesus is not calling people who merely want to be saved, to be healed, to be made stronger, to see more clearly, and to be fed by him. Jesus is not calling people who simply want to agree with him, believe in him, or admire him. Jesus is not calling people who only want to read about him, study him, or sing praise songs to him. Jesus is calling people who desire to follow him.

In C.S. Lewis’ classic novel, The Screwtape Letters, the devil advises an apprentice demon that the main way to keep people from the Christian faith is to prevent the potential convert from doing anything. 

The devil says that the main thing…

…is to prevent his doing anything. As long as he does not convert it into action, it does not matter how much he thinks about this new repentance. Let the little brute wallow in it. Let him, if he has any bent that way, write a book about it…. Let him do anything but act. No amount of piety in his imagination and affections will harm us if we can keep it out of his will. As one of the humans has said, active habits are strengthened by repetition, but passive ones are weakened. The more often he feels without acting, the less he will be able to ever act, and in the long run, the less he will be able to feel.

To the dismay of CS Lewis’ devil, Bartimaeus put his faith into action and followed Jesus, even toward Jerusalem.

At the end of this service, we are going to have what we call an invitation. Some churches call it an altar call. It is a practice that was started in many protestant churches during the turn of the 20th century. Those who wish to dedicate or rededicate their lives to Christ or become a member of the church are invited to come down to the front as a public sign of their commitment.

Sometimes, this practice has been emotionally manipulative. Preachers have used guilt and other forms of pressure to get people to walk the aisles. Because of this, the invitation or the altar call has been dropped in many churches and is very rare in most denominations.

Well, I’m not ready to drop it, and it’s not just because I have a little Baptist left in me from my childhood. It is because I believe, despite its misuse and abuse, the “Invitation,” whether or not anyone ever comes forward, keeps reminding us that it is not enough for us to come together on Sunday morning to get something out of Jesus: a sense of well-being, as sense of peace, a feel-good feeling of spiritual bliss. It reminds us that the point of it all, the point of Christianity is to follow Jesus, to give our lives to Jesus, to stumble after him along the way, even to Jerusalem. To be like Bartimaeus and summon the courage to stand up and not be ashamed, to be willing to give and to sacrifice and follow him on the way:

On the way to hear and answer the cries of the disabled;

On the way to stand up and speak up for those who are otherized, demonized and marginalized;

On the way to defend liberty on the behalf of the oppressed;

On the way to speak words of healing to the sick;

On the way to speak words of grace to those who struggle, words of peace those who are afraid;

On the way to put our arms around the troubled and offer hope to the despairing;

On the way to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the imprisoned;

On the way to the ballot box to vote for people who care, not just about themselves or their friends, but truly care about the least among us;

On the way to Jerusalem, where resistance, and even a cross awaits.

A Topsy-Turvy World

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

Mark 10:35-45 NRSV

What a great moment we experienced together last Sunday, as we received the hopeful good news that for God all things are possible! That after 150 years, we are still here, and we are still saying “yes” to following Jesus!

Last week, the commitment of Peter and the disciples, and our own commitments to leave behind friends and family to follow Jesus, were affirmed with a promise from Jesus. With those first disciples, because we are allowing Jesus to turn our lives upside-down by accepting and working for a world where the first are last and the last are first, and the greatest among us are servants, Jesus promised us:

For everything we have given up, he will give us much more. For everything we have turned our back upon, he will give us a hundred times more!

It was a great day! A joyful day! A hopeful day!

But… (C’mon you knew it was coming!) …but, what a difference just one week can make.

Just when we were beginning to think that the disciples were finally starting to get it right, we open our Bibles, and still in this 10th chapter of Mark, we read where James and John, the sons of Zebedee, come asking Jesus if he will do them a favor.

You remember their poor parents, don’t you, Mr. and Mrs. Zebedee? Matthew told us the story of how their family fishing business was nearly destroyed that day a radical rabbi named Jesus came to town. That was the day James and John proved they were willing to drop everything, literally as they dropped their nets, leaving family, their job, everything behind, to follow Jesus (Matthew 4:21).

I am sure Peter had James and John in mind when he said to Jesus: “Look, we have left everything and followed you.”

But today, in the same chapter, we discover that they really don’t have a clue to what it truly means to follow Jesus when they ask Jesus if one can sit at his right and one at his left in his glory.

Pointing out their disappointing cluelessness, Jesus responds: “You really don’t know what you are asking!” For they had no idea that the ones who would end up on Jesus’ right and his left would be hanging on crosses!”

But that’s what it’s like after you say “yes” to Jesus. One Sunday, we got it! One Sunday, we are affirmed by Jesus! One Sunday, the pastor pats you on the back and calls you a kindness-lover, a peace-maker, a justice-doer, and a grace-giver. And the next week, you’re sitting on the struggle bus without a clue.

One Sunday, we feel like we have all the courage we need to stay on the right, albeit narrow, road that leads to life, abundant, meaningful, purposeful, and eternal. And the next week we are struggling, questioning, and wondering if staying on this difficult road with Jesus is really worth all the grief we receive from our family and friends, from our co-workers and neighbors.

We are always being tempted to acquiesce to popular culture. Because, following this narrow way of Jesus really does turn our entire world upside-down, and if we are honest, we’d admit that we’d be much more comfortable if we could just put some of our world back right-side-up.

We think about how good it would be to put ourselves first for a change, to be great again, to live without dying to self, to confront our enemies without having to love them, and to build wealth without having to give everything to the poor. How much better would life be if we identified with the first instead of the last, with those who have the most instead with those who have the least, with the powerful instead of the enslaved.

We think of how much better we would have it if we never heard of a woman whose two copper coins, worth just a few cents, were actually more valuable in the eyes of Jesus than the large bags of money that others were putting into the temple treasury.

We dream of what life would be if we never heard the story of a poor beggar named Lazarus resting by Abraham’s side, while a rich man begs for mercy.

We think about how much better life might be if we never heard the Sermon on the Mount, or the story of the Good Samaritan. How much better would we sleep at night, how much more money would we have in the bank, if could be like the Priest and the Levite who, without a care in the world, passed by on the other side.

New Testament Scholar Martin Copenhaver writes that our gospel lesson in Mark chapter ten bears repeating, because we are continually being tempted “to straighten up the order of things that Jesus turned topsy-turvy.”

As Disciples of Christ were creating a movement in the 19th century to return to the radical teachings of Jesus, German philosopher and cultural critic Friedrich Nietsche was denigrating those teachings calling the way of Jesus “a slave morality.”

Nietshche noticed that Christianity seemed to be most popular among the people in his day who were at were at the bottom: women, children, people living in poverty, people living with disabilities, people of color, and of course, the slaves. He accused Christianity of giving hope to those at the bottom, while offering very little to those at the top.

His criticism served as a warning to the church as they heard Nietshche saying: “If you’re not careful, if you keep teaching the upside down Gospel of Jesus, then you might fill your churches up with the wrong type of people!”

And it was a red flag for the privileged and for the powerful as they understood Nietshche saying: “If you don’t do something about this radical, upside-down topsy-turvy message of Jesus, then your workers may want to organize. They might begin to collectively bargain to improve their economic and social status. Your women may demand to have the same rights as men, even the right to vote. And although it’s unthinkable, they may even want the right to control their own bodies! And your slaves, well, they may rise up and demand to be treated like whole human beings, not just three-fifths.

So, the false prophets in the world went to work. Rejecting the gospel of Jesus that turns the whole world upside down, they began to twist scripture, take it out of context, and even make up unbiblical sayings to preach and teach the antitheses of Jesus, all in order to straighten out the topsy-turviness of the gospel.

“God only helps those who help themselves!” they declared.

“Women should be submissive to men, at home, in the workplace, in government and in the church,” they asserted.

“Children could be exploited for their labor,” they affirmed.

“Jesus was a white European man,” they pronounced in a plethora of artistic portrayals.

“God’s Word sanctions slavery,” they argued.

“Those people are abominations to God,” they preached.

And we know that those false prophets are still very much at work today, “straightening up the order of things that Jesus turned topsy-turvy.”

In an interview with NPR, evangelical leader Russell Moore said that multiple pastors have told him stories about their congregants being upset when they hear words read from the Sermon on the Mount of Jesus proclaiming an upside-down world where the poor are blessed, those who hunger for justice are filled, and the meek inherit the earth.

Moore said:

Multiple pastors tell me essentially, the same story about quoting Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount – [and] to have someone come up after to say. “Where did you get those liberal talking points?” Moore added: “And what was alarming to me is that in most of these scenarios, when the pastor would say, ‘I’m literally quoting Jesus,’ the response would be, ‘Yes, but that doesn’t work anymore. That’s weak.’

So, what do the pastors do? Well, at an alarming rate, many are leaving the ministry. But some stay, but to keep their congregants happy, they water-down the gospel, transforming the offensive counter-cultural meat of Jesus’ teaching into some, warm, comforting chicken soup for the soul. And to pastor a large church, some pastors have traded in the gospel that sides with the weak and the oppressed in exchange for a nationalism that sides with the strong and powerful.

Although this is the reason many people have given up on the church today, the irony is that it is also the reason people need the church today. Because to fight the great temptation to straighten up, water down, or trade in the gospel, people who have made the decision to say “yes” to Jesus need one another. To stay on the radical, narrow, offensive, difficult, counter-cultural, topsy-turvy way of Jesus, we need each other to help keep us accountable and encouraged, especially during these serious times when many in the church are rejecting it, calling it weak.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who stood up to the fascism and white Christian nationalism of his day in Nazi Germany, once prophetically preached:

Christianity stands or falls with its revolutionary protest against violence, arbitrariness, and pride of power, and with its plea for the weak. Christians are doing too little to make these points clear, rather than too much. Christendom adjusts itself far too easily to the worship of power. Christians should give more offense [and] shock the world far more than they are doing now. Christians should take a stronger stand in favor of the weak, rather than considering first the possible right of the strong (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, from his sermon 0n 2 Corinthians 12:9, 1934).

The good news is that we are a part of a church where we are going to keep holding one another accountable. We are going to keep one another encouraged and hopeful. No matter what happens this week, or in the next three weeks, we are going to do all that we can do to stay topsy-turvy, following the radical, narrow, seemingly foolish, upside-down way of Jesus toward the poor, the suffering, the marginalized, the prisoners, the refugees, the undocumented, the lonely, the hungry, the dying, the tortured, the homeless–toward all who thirst and hunger for justice and compassion.

Following this way will shock many. It will offend some of our friends and even disappoint some in our family. Because what does this way offer us? Not success, not popularity, not riches, not worldly power, but we believe—we may not always understand, and at times we are even clueless—but we believe Jesus when he says it leads to a life that is full, complete, meaningful, purposeful, abundant, and eternal, and it creates a world that is more kind, more just, more free, and more merciful. Amen.

Saying “Yes” to Jesus

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

Mark 10:17-31 NRSV

I have some good news to share this morning!

But, first, let me give you the bad news—for that is the order that it comes to us through this morning’s gospel lesson. The very first line of our text sets an ominous tone: “As he was setting out on a journey…”  For we all know where that journey takes Jesus—the betrayal, the denials, the abandonment, the condemnation, the mocking, and the crowds cheering it on, the crucifixion, death.

The bad news is that the journey we are on as followers of Jesus leads us to the cross. It leads us to places that we would rather not go. It leads us to sacrifice and self-expenditure. It leads us down a confusing, challenging road. To be first, we are challenged to be last. To be great, we are challenged to be a servant. To save our lives, we are challenged to lose our lives. To live, we challenged to die.

Furthermore, our gospel lesson teaches that saying “yes” to this journey is difficult for many people. The road to the life God has created us to live is truly narrow, and there are few who find it.

We read that a man runs up to Jesus, kneels before him and asks him a very good question: “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  It is the question of every person: “What must I do to have a life that is full, purposeful and meaningful?”

Jesus replies:

You know the commandments: “You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.

“But teacher, I have kept all of these since my youth.”

In other words, “Jesus, I have been going to Sabbath School since I was a little boy!”

Mark says that Jesus then looked at the man, (I like this next line) and “loved the man,” and said,

But you lack one thing. Go and sell everything you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.

When the man heard this, he was shocked. And he went way grieving, for he had many possessions.

This is bad news because, here we have a very good person, a law-abiding person, a frequent synagogue goer, a religious person, a sincere seeker, someone raised in the faith, who is unable to say “yes” to the call of Jesus to become one of his disciples.

And here is the really bad news for us. The reason the call of Jesus is rejected is because of something that we, living in our capitalistic society, have a great affinity toward: money. This one is unable to follow Jesus, unable to experience, life, full, meaningful, abundant, and eternal, because he loves his bank account more than he loves poor people.

This is a discouraging teaching for those who live in a culture that believes wealth is the answer to all of life’s problems.

It is no secret that the voters of this country have a history of electing their leaders based on what? The leader’s psychological fitness to lead? Nope. The leader’s moral values and ethical character? Oh, heck no! The leader’s sense of compassion and empathy for others? Ha! The leader’s anti-racist, anti-sexist, pro-LGBTQ sentiments? Lord, have mercy!

It was the campaign strategist of Bill Clinton’s successful 1992 presidential campaign James Carville who answered that question most clearly when he said, “It’s the economy stupid.”

Because what our culture values most is wealth. And we seem to be willing to sacrifice everything that is good and decent and holy to create it and hold on to it. People will vote for someone who uses the same lying, hateful, racist, authoritarian language of Adolph Hitler, if they believe doing so might lower their taxes or assure them that none of their tax dollars will be used to help people of another race, ethnicity, or sexuality.

The spirit of greed and selfishness that possesses our society and drives our economy is bad news when we realize that people with wealth do not fair very well in the Bible. Jesus said it is as harder for a wealthy person to do the right thing than it is to get a camel through an eye of a needle.

That’s the bad news. Now, are you ready for the good news? The good news is that this is not the end of this morning’s gospel lesson.

Jesus responded, ‘For mortals it is impossible [for wealthy people] to receive eternal life, but not for God; for God all things are possible.’

Peter says: ‘Look, we have left everything and followed you.’

And Jesus responds:

Truly I tell you, here is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.

The good news is that this is one of the few times in the gospel story that ol’ Peter opens his big mouth and blurts out something without getting pulled aside and rebuked by Jesus.

Peter says: “Lord, we have left everything—homes, family, friends, jobs—and we have followed you!”

Peter is saying: “Look, Jesus, we are not like the one who came inquiring about eternal life, only to be shocked and grieved by your strange answer. Although you turned our world upside down, although you said things to us like the first shall be last and the last shall be first, and to be the greatest we must be a servant, to save ourselves we must lose ourselves, to live we must die, when you called us, we dropped everything.”

“We let go of a lot to follow you.  And although we do not understand half, a third, ok Jesus, one fourth of the things you teach us, although you scare us to death when you talk about being arrested, tried, and crucified, we’re still here. We didn’t walk away. We’ve stayed the course, and we’ve kept the faith. We may not understand everything, but we do listen! Well, every now and again we might fall asleep, but sometimes we even take notes.”

The good news is that our lesson this morning does not end with the rejection of one greedy man. It ends with a promise from Jesus:

I promise you, for everything you have given up, I will give you much more. For everything you have turned your back upon, I will give you a hundred times more.

Now, are you ready for some more good news?

None of you in this room is like this one who came inquiring about eternal life, only to be shocked and grieved by Jesus’ strange answers. Although Jesus turned your world upside down, although he said things to you like the first shall be last and the last shall be first and to be the greatest you must be a servant, to live you must die, when Jesus called you, you said “yes” to that call.  Some of you let go of a lot to follow him.  And although you do not understand half, a third, ok, one fourth of the things Jesus teaches you, although you don’t even remember last week’s sermon, although Jesus scares you to death when you read of him talking about being arrested, tried and crucified, you’re still here. You’ve not walked away. You’ve stayed the course. You’ve kept the faith.  You may not understand everything you hear, yet you come to this place week after week after week and you listen. Yes, sometimes you fall asleep.  But sometimes, some of you even take some notes!

Although every muscle in your body aches and your knees and hips are worn out, and it hurts to walk and it hurts to sit, and it hurts to stand, you somehow make it to this place every Sunday you can. When you wanted to pull the covers up over your heads and sleep in on this cool Sunday morning, you got up. You got yourself ready and you came. You are here.

And not only are you here to listen to these strange teachings of Jesus, you’ve decided to follow him on a journey that leads to the cross.  You have decided to follow Jesus on a journey that leads to sacrifice and self-expenditure.

Some of you have given up wealth by turning down more lucrative careers in order make a difference in the world by working for a non-profit or as a public servant, by teaching children or caring for senior adults.

Although you don’t have to, and really don’t want to, many of you frequently volunteer as selfless servants in this community— volunteering at the hospital or the Free Clinic, delivering meals on wheels, helping neighbors with their groceries at Park View Mission, advocating for someone with special needs or serving on the board of a non-profit. You freely share your wealth donating to charity and investing in the community.

Many of you have said yes to be a deacon, an elder, a Sunday School teacher or a board member—to work with our children and youth, to sing in the choir, to give to a hurricane relief fund or to purchase diapers or baby formula to deliver to strangers in need, to do whatever you can, with whatever it takes, whatever the cost, wherever you are, to make this world a better place.

And although the way is sometimes difficult, as few follow and many reject this way, you welcome the opportunity to get into some good trouble, some necessary trouble. You are willing to speak out before the town council or the school board, and you are willing to pay the price for doing so.

Although it has made you the black sheep of your own family, you do not hesitate to defend those who are marginalized by sick religion. Your stand for social justice has caused some of your friends to alienate you or to even unfriend you but you keep standing!

Living in a part of the world where it is most unpopular to do so, where the majority of church people have rejected the way of Jesus, you have fully embraced this narrow way that Jesus taught and modeled as you empathetically stand with immigrants and minorities who are being scapegoated, with women whose rights have been taken away, and with the poor who are being crushed by policies of greed.

And you are standing firm in this election season against Christian Nationalism and White Supremacy, the very Spirit of the anti-Christ that is possessing many in the church today.

You speak up for both Jews and Palestinians. You defend the freedom of people of all religions, and you defend people’s right to be free from religion. You decry all war, violence, hate and bigotry.

You deny yourself, love your enemies, forgive seventy times seven, offer the shirt off your back, and you are willing to go the extra mile to heal the hurting, welcome the excluded, and free the oppressed.

When people say that we should only help those who help themselves, you quote Jesus saying: “We are to love our neighbors as we love ourselves!”

When people scream, “America first!” you quote Jesus saying: “for God so loves the whole world!”

When people chant, “Send them back!” You model Jesus by finding those who are being scapegoated, and you invite them to join you at a table.

And when people say they love the sinner, but hate the sin, you remind them that Jesus never once followed the word “love” in a sentence with the word “but!”

As I said last night at our 150-celebration, you have joined members of this historic congregation, and the saints who have gone before us, to do all that you can do to be a kindness-lover, a peace-maker, a foot-washer, a cheek-turner, a justice-doer, and a grace-giver.[i]

The bad news is the story of this one we read about in Mark’s gospel ends with greed, selfishness, grieving and rejection. The good news is that his story is not your story. For even when you were shocked by Jesus’ strange and challenging teaching, you dropped everything and followed him. And because of that, although you suffer persecution from even the people you love, your story ends with a promise from Jesus. Thanks be to God.

[i] Inspired by the words of John Pavlovitz, If God Is Love, Don’t Be a Jerk (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 2021), 69.

This at Last

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

Genesis 2:18-24 NRSV

Americans have always had a high regard for independence. We believe in a staunch individual ethic that leads people to step up, step out, and stand on their own two feet. We look up to those who are able to look after themselves, to take care of number one, to be responsible, to be independent. And we tend to look down on those who are dependent on others for their survival.

This is arguably the greatest virtue of our society, the aspiration of every child. Study hard, grow up, move out on your own, get a good job, so you can become self-sufficient, self-reliant, self-supporting. And bookstore shelves and YouTube videos labeled, “do-it-yourself” and “self-help” are filled with information to help us keep our independence. Anything else and you are considered to be a failure, worthless, no count, lazy, good-for-nothing. Yes, in our society, independence is what it is all about.

Many grocery stores now have “self-checkout” lines that are almost always available with no waiting. If you are smart enough to check your own groceries, if you have good ol’ American wherewithal and work ethic, if you are responsible and have learned to really be independent, if you have elevated yourself to a place where the assistance of a Wal-Mart cashier is truly beneath you, then you’ve earned the right not to wait in line.

Independence. It is what makes turning 16 and getting your driver’s license so wonderful, and it is what makes the day the doctor or your children take the car keys away from you so dreadful. It is what makes owning a home the American dream, and what makes the thought of moving into nursing home a nightmare.

Perhaps more than any other day, we fear the day we lose our independence. It’s the reason we save for retirement, eat right, take our vitamins and exercise; so we can remain independent to the bitter end.

This is why coming to church can sometimes be confusing, and oftentimes, challenging. We come to church and open our Bibles only to discover that God’s virtues are oftentimes very different from our own. We come to church to reaffirm our beliefs, only to have God call those beliefs into question.

On the very first pages of our Bible, we learn that the first thing that God said was “not good” was, guess what? Our independence.

God looked at the independent human and said: “This is not good.” So, “I will have to keep working. I will have to continue creating to make you a partner, a co-equal, someone on whom you can depend on help you be the person that I have created you to be.”

So, out of the ground, the Lord formed every animal of the field and every bird of the air.

And then the independent human searched high and low. They became acquainted with each creature so closely, that they were able to name each one. But out of all of the animals that they encountered, and out of all of the birds that they watched, they could not find a single suitable companion, a partner on whom they could depend, a co-equal with whom they could share a mutual relationship and an intimate communion.

But for God so love the world that did not give up. God was not finished. God was intent on helping the first human be the person he was created to be. So, God kept working. God continued creating. However, this time, not from the ground; but from the human themself.

As the human slept, God removed one of their ribs and used that rib to make another. Instead of forming another human being from the ground, God split the first human being into two beings, and then presented them to first human. It was then that they said:

“This, at last, is bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;”

This, at last, is the relationship for which have been searching.

This, at last, is the beloved communion for which I have been longing.

This, at last, is my partner, my companion, my confidant, my friend.

This, at last, is my equal with whom I can be mutually connected.

This, at last, is someone on whom I can depend.

This, at last, is what I have needed to be the person that God has created me to be.

This, at last, is one that I must love as myself, for…

“This, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”

I believe this is why Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love others as we love ourselves. As this verse describes every human being. All of us, all genders, all races are co-equals, mutually connected and bound together.

This should describe the moment patriarchy died, the moment all misogyny and sexism, racism and bigotry, became implausible. However, we know all too well that this is not what happened.

The good news is that this is not the end of God’s creative story.

The good news is God was not finished with God’s new beloved community. God knew that an even greater communion was needed if we were ever going to be the persons that God has created us to be. So, God kept working. God continued creating. And, this time, God took it one step further.

God looked at God’s beloved community. God saw the good in it, but also the wicked in it. God saw the subjugation. God saw the sexual assault. God saw the domestic violence. God saw oppressors calling themselves liberators, and predators calling themselves “protectors.” God saw the hate, and the crowds cheering it on, supporting the hate, worshipping the hate, voting for the hate. And God knew that it could be so much better.

So, God, God’s holy self, selflessly and sacrificially, decided to join the community! God came to be with us, and God came to be one of us. God came to show us the way that leads to life, abundant and eternal. God became flesh. God became bone. And one of God’s beloved communities called him “Jesus.”

And one night, Jesus sat down at a table with his beloved community. Jesus took bread and broke it, and blessed it, saying, “This is my body.” Then he took the cup, saying, “This is my blood.”

And here we are this morning gathered at a table with Christians from all over the world, bound together, mutually connected, depending on one another and communing with one another, but also depending on, and communing with a Savior, singing together in one voice:

“This, at last is bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;”

This, at last, is the relationship for which we have been searching.

This, at last, is the beloved communion for which we have been longing.

This, at last, is our partner, our companion, our confidant, our sibling.

This, at last, is someone with whom we can be mutually and eternally connected.

This, at last, is someone on whom we can truly depend.

This, at last, is what we have always needed, all we will ever need, to be the persons that God has created us to be.

This, at last, is the One who reminds us that we are all interconnected by the love of our God who never gives up on us, who keeps working and keeps creating until the whole creation understands that there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male nor female, but we are all one in Christ Jesus our Lord.

One day, I was talking with someone who was dying with cancer. He shared that his illness had revealed to him the things that were truly important in life. He said, “And the funny thing is, that they are the opposite of what I always thought was important.”

He said: “I never knew how many friends I had, until I got sick. And I never realized just how important they are.” He said: “Jarrett, the truth is, ‘We really do need a little help from our friends.’”

He admitted that before his illness what he had valued more than anything in the world was his independence, “but no more,” he said, “no more.”

         Then he said: “Maybe that is why God created us to depend on one another. It is like some kind of training.”

“Training?” I asked.

“Yes, training,” he said, “because the most important thing in this life is to reach a point where we learn to be dependent on God, to reach to a point sometime before we die, where we have truly put our lives into the hands of God.”

It was as if he was saying: “No more! Because, now I see it. Now, I get it. In my most vulnerable, most dependent state, now, I know it. This, at last, is what life is all about!”

This, at last, is why we are here: to learn be in relationships; to learn to depend on one another; to care for one another, especially for those who depend on our care: the poor, the marginalized, the immigrant, the isolated, the abandoned, and those have lost everything in the storm. We are here to learn how to move outside our echo chambers to listen and to learn from strangers. We are here to repent of our isolationist tendencies that place our desires and comforts over the good of the world. We are here to learn to resist the temptation to demonize our differences and while dignifying our diversity. We are here to understand that at last we are all related. We are all bound together. We are all equal. We are all united, because we are all one.

And as we depend on each other, we learn to depend on the One on whom we can depend on forevermore;

the One who came to us at last;

the One who came to be with us and for us;

the One who came to show us how to be the people God created us to be;

the One who is still not finished;

the One who is still creating and recreating, working to transform this world God loves by calling disciples, ministers and prophets, male and female and non-binary, in every country on every continent; We learn to depend on this One: This, at last, Christ, our sibling, our teacher, our Lord and our Savior, bone of our bones and flesh of our flesh.[i]

[i] Inspired from: This at Last!, An Intergenerational Liturgy for World Communion Sunday, Nineteenth Sunday of Pentecost year B, was written by the Rev. Dr. Laurel Koepf Taylor, Assistant Professor of Old Testament at Eden Theological Seminary, Saint Louis, Missouri.

Time for Some Serious Soul-Searching

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

Mark 9:38-50 NRSV

In Mrs. Welch’s sixth grade class back in 1977, I sat beside one of the coolest boys in school. He was the new kid, a foreigner from some distant land, like New Jersey. His name was Robbie something-or-another. All I remember about his last name was that it was hard to spell and funny-sounding to me. Robbie wore a leather jacket like the Fonz, and he had this long, jet black, wavy, Donnie Osmond hair. He could not have been more popular. And with my cowlicks, braces, low self-esteem from five years of speech therapy, and all-around awkwardness, he got on my last nerve.

One day in class, Robbie whispered: “Hey Jarrett, you wanna to see my switchblade?” Being a naïve little boy, I said: “You don’t have a switchblade. Switchblades are not allowed in school.”  He then pulled a shiny, steel-plated case out of his pocket and showed it to me. I may have been awkward, but I was newly baptized Christian who knew right from wrong, so without hesitation, I got up from my desk, walked up to the teacher’s desk and told Mrs. Welch that Robbie had brought a switchblade to school.

As I stood smugly at her desk, Mrs. Welch called Robbie up and asked him if he had brought a knife to school. Robbie reached into his pocket and pulled what appeared to be the knife. He then pushed the button and ejected a long black comb and started combing his wavy Donnie Osmond hair.

Putting the comb back into his pocket, Robbie looked at me and sneered: “You little tattle-tail!” And, I will never forget the disappointed look Mrs. Welch gave me before I turned and took the walk of shame back to my seat. That was the day I learned how uncool it can be to be a tattle-tail.

And this morning, we read where the disciple John learns a similar lesson.

John, thinking he was being a good Christian, goes up to Jesus and says: “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons… and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.”  Like a jealous sixth-grader running to the teacher to tell on someone who is breaking the rules, John believes Jesus is going to be pleased with the information. But Jesus says, “Do not stop him…Whoever is not against us, is for us.”

Although the obvious reason I was so eager to tell on Robbie was jealousy, I cannot help but to think that if Robbie had been one of my friends with whom I had grown up, maybe someone from my youth group at church, I probably would not have been so eager to run to the teacher that day. But Robbie was an outsider. He had a funny last name. He was from some far-off land called New Jersey. And not only was he a foreigner, he was a Donnie Osmond look-alike foreigner who was succeeding in being something that I was utterly failing to be: cool.

And to understand John’s real problem with this outsider who was casting out demons, we need to go back and read verses 14-19 in this same chapter.

Jesus sees a crowd where people are arguing and asks them what they are arguing about.

Someone from the crowd answered him, “My son has a spirit that makes him unable to speak; and whenever it seizes him, it dashes him down; and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid; and I asked your disciples to cast it out, but they could not do so.”

Saying Jesus is unhappy is an understatement:

You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you? [then we can almost see him rolling his eyes as he says] Bring him to me.

The problem for John was that this one who made him run to the teacher was not only an outsider, he was successful doing something that the disciples were utterly failing to do: “casting out demons.” And Jesus says: “Don’t stop him, for whoever is doing such work of exorcising the demons in our world is clearly on our side!”

Now, when we read this text here in the 21st century describing someone who “seizes,” is “suddenly unable to speak,” who “falls to the ground foaming and grinding his teeth,” and “becoming rigid,” it is obvious to us that what is being described is someone experiencing an epileptic seizure. If this happens to anyone here this morning, you can bet we’re calling 911. We will not be having a demon exorcism!

But as you have heard be say before, I love the ancient language of “casting out demons,” for it infers much more than healing the sick. It infers bringing evil into light, challenging the powers of injustice, and liberating the oppressed. It infers calling out and casting out the evil forces in our world that are hurting people.

So, here we have John and the disciples who had just been chastised by Jesus for lacking the faith to liberate people who are oppressed, for failing to do the work of Jesus in the world. And here’s John seeing an outsider successfully doing the work.

Can you believe that? That there are actually some people outside the church, who do not claim to be Christian, who act more like Jesus than some people who attend church every Sunday? Of course, we can.

As author and outspoken advocate for global peace and non-violence, Matthew Distfano, prophetically points out: “Kind atheists are closer to Jesus than mean Christians.”

As a Christian pastor, I would much rather lead a small group of atheists and agnostics who believe that loving our neighbors as ourselves is the most important thing we can do on this earth, than lead a mega-church of believers who never doubt the existence of God, but who are hateful or indifferent to the needs to others.

The sad reality is that Christians who confidently sing Blessed Assurance on Sunday mornings can be the greatest stumbling block to those who need to experience the grace and love of God today.

I believe this is why Jesus uses such disturbing language to illustrate how important it is that his disciples do some serious soul-searching. As former Southern Baptist leader Russell Moore was quoted this week in the Atlantic: “If we’re willing to see children terrorized because of a false rumor about Haitian immigrants, we should ask who abducted our conscience, not someone’s pet.”

Jesus said that his disciples need to do some serious introspection to determine if they are doing some things or not doing some things that serve as a stumbling block for others, that may prevent someone from knowing God’s extravagant grace and from experiencing God’s liberating love?  Jesus underscores the seriousness of such soul-searching by saying that if you are going to put up any obstacle between people and God’s love, it’s better to tie huge millstone around your neck and jump in the ocean!

Then, to further underscore how important self-criticism is, Jesus uses some gruesome metaphors to get our attention: self-mutilation, an ever-active worm which eats the flesh, and an unquenchable fire. If your hand, the things you do; if your feet, the places you go; do nothing to help someone who needs healing, wholeness and liberation, or worse, adds to their pain, or participates in their oppression, then cut them off, for it is better to have one hand or one foot than your whole body go into an unquenchable fire!

And if your eye prevents you from loving a neighbor, because of the way you see at that neighbor, or the way you unable to see that neighbor, Mark doesn’t say “pluck it out” as Matthew says, Mark writes that Jesus emphatically said, “tear it out!”

I believe Jesus is saying that he can not over emphasize the importance of doing the serious and holy work of introspection and soul-searching, making absolute certain that we are following the way of love, kindness, and mercy, the way of peace and justice, making certain that none our actions or our inactions are hurting our neighbors.

Such soul-searching is badly needed today as people of faith find themselves standing today on the opposite sides of a culture war where people on both sides claim to be standing on the side of Jesus.

So, a good question for all Christians today is: “How do we know we are for Jesus and not against Jesus?”

Could it be that it really is not that complicated? Could it be that John learned his lesson that Jesus teaches him in our lesson this morning as evidenced by his quote of Jesus we read in John 13:

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, [in other words, this is how you will know that you are for me and not against me] if you have love for one another (John 13:34-35 NRSV).

In this most divisive time, if there has ever been a time for Christian Americans to do some serious soul-searching, it is now.

Are we standing on the side of the liberating love that Jesus taught, modeled and embodied? Do our actions liberate people who are being oppressed today? Or do our actions, or our inactions, support the oppression of people?

Are we calling out the powers of injustice that are hurting people today, making them less free, less safe, making them feel less human? And are we casting out these powers by casting our votes in the next 36 days?

Or are we standing today for something else? If we are not standing for liberating love, what are we standing for? Is it pride? Is it power and privilege? Is about being superior to another, more holy, more righteous, more entitled? Is it about fear? Is it about greed? Is it about jealousy?

Are we standing with Jesus and with people of all faiths and even no faith who standing today on the side of love? Or are we standing against them?

Yes, now is certainly the time in this nation for some serious soul-searching. Amen.