Recognizing Jesus

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A4 Comments

Matthew 14:22-33 NRSV

On Wednesday morning, I got a big surprise in the church office. Carrie said: “Jarrett, someone is out here to see you. They didn’t tell me who they were. They said they wanted to surprise you.”

When I walked out, I saw a man, who seemed to be about my age, standing with a younger man. The older man immediately greeted me with a smile and gave me a great big hug, telling me how good it was to see me again.

Having no idea who was standing before me, I responded the way I suppose most of us would respond: “Oh, it is so good to see you!”  I then shook the young man’s hand who said, “I told Dad that you would not know who we are, after all, it’s been like thirty-seven years since you saw my Dad!”

I shook my head as if to say, “Of course I remember you!” Embarrassed to admit that I really did not have a clue, I began to ask questions: “What are you doing here? Do you live here?” He went on to explain how he was visiting family in town after attending a funeral and that he was still living in Maryland.

Not wanting to confess that I still had no idea who these folks were, I kept asking questions: “How long have you lived in Maryland?” All the while thinking to myself, “Say something, anything, that will help me to recognize you!”

Eventually, he gave enough clues that I finally recognized him! It was David Brooks! In 1986, he was in the youth group the summer I was serving for the first time on a church staff as a youth director! His father was the pastor of the church, and the very first person who encouraged me to consider that God may be calling me to be a pastor!

This wonderful encounter prompted me to ask a serious question as I studied our gospel lesson for today’s sermon. I wonder how many of us would recognize Jesus if Jesus miraculously showed up? How would we know that it is Jesus who is standing in our midst, calling out to us? If we do not recognize him at first, what questions would we have to ask and what clues would he have to give for it to suddenly dawn on us that it is indeed our Lord.

Now I know it’s hard to believe that we would not recognize Jesus if he came to us, but this morning, we read where Peter, one of Jesus’ most prominent disciples, doesn’t seem to recognize Jesus when he comes to him and the other disciples in the middle of a raging storm.

“Lord, if it is you…”

Strange, isn’t it?

“Lord, if it is you…”

It’s strange because we would like to think that if we were in that boat, we would have certainly recognized him, especially if he came walking out to us on some angry waves.

Because that is exactly how we like to picture Jesus. He is the one who comes to us during the storm. He is the one who comes to us when our world turns dark, when the winds of life are against us, when the waves of life are crashing down upon us.

His is the presence that calms our fears, quiets our anxiety, dispels our despair, soothes our souls.

Jesus speaks familiar, comforting words to Peter and the disciples, “Take heart, it is I, do not be afraid.”

We know the sound of that voice. We recognize those words—the voice of the good shepherd coming to rescue his flock from danger.

But here’s the thing: It is after Jesus speaks those familiar, assuring words, Peter still doesn’t seem convinced that it is Jesus, asking, “Lord, if it is you…”

So, how will Peter know? How will Peter recognize that it is Jesus standing before him and not some made-up ghost of his imagination? What clues does Jesus have to give Peter for Peter to know that he is indeed Jesus his Lord?

Are you ready?

“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

What? Is Peter serious?

I wonder why Peter didn’t say: “If it is you, calm this storm.” “If it is you, climb up in this boat with us and hold us, protect us, and take care of us.”  “If it is you, give us some peace.” “If it is you, comfort us and assure us that everything’s gonna be alright.”

After all, isn’t this how we recognize Jesus? “Jesus, if it is you, come into our church and hold our hands.” “Come and tell us that the storm will be soon be over.” “Come and assure us that somehow, someway, some day everything’s gonna be alright and all we have to do is trust in you.”

For that’s how we recognize Jesus. Right?

But that’s not how Peter recognizes Jesus.

Peter says: “Jesus, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

“Jesus, if it is you, command me to risk my life. Jesus, if it is you, command me to get up and get out of this boat and venture into a dark world.”[1]

“Lord, if it is you, command me to put it all on the line. Lord, if it is you, command me to walk into the storm, face the waves, brave the wind, and take on the night.”

It is as if Peter cannot recognize Jesus unless this voice commands him to literally throw caution into the wind and risk everything. Peter cannot recognize Jesus unless Jesus calls him to do something dangerous, something selfless, something sacrificial, something many in the world would consider to be foolish.

“Lord, if it is you, call out to me like you did that day when I heard your voice for the very first time, that day I was minding my own business, that day I was there standing in my own little world by the lake with my brother Andrew with a fishing net in my hand. Command me to drop my net, drop everything, leave my family, leave my job, and all forms of security to venture forth with you on a risky journey called discipleship.”

“Call out to me like you did that day when you sent me out into the world to proclaim that good news had come for the poor and the oppressed for the kingdom of heaven had come near. Call out to me like you did on that day you commanded me to do risky, demanding, world-changing things like healing the sick, raising the dead, restoring lepers back into the community and casting out the demonic forces of evil.”

“Lord, if it is you, warn me again about certain persecution I will face if I follow you. Tell me again about the trials I will face, the great tribulation I will endure. Lord if it is you, command me to love all people, although doing so will certainly upset some of my friends and family members. Jesus if it is you, remind me that if I love, live and serve like you that there will always be people, most likely religious people, that will try to stop me. Say something that will remind me that if I follow your voice, there will be a cross involved, as the powers-that-be will try to silence that voice.”

“Lord, if it is you, command me to get out of this pew, (I mean this boat). No, I mean these pews, to walk courageously into the darkness. Lead us to be the church beyond these four walls, and then, Jesus, and only then, we will recognize you.”

“Command us to stand up to racism, sexism, ableism, xenophobia, homophobia and transphobia. Command us to pray for the enemies of the beautiful diversity of humanity created in the image of God. Command us to confront the hate and darkness in our world with love and light knowing that only love can drive out hate and only light can overcome the darkness.”[2]

“Lord, if it is you, command us to do something that seems impossible. Command us to build a community where all people have access to affordable housing, fair living wages, equitable education and available healthcare.”

“Oh Jesus, we know it’s not going to be easy. At times, we will be afraid. For walking with you like this will not be something that comes naturally for us. We don’t like taking risks, so of course we’ll have our doubts. We may even have moments when we will take our eyes off you and think only about saving ourselves. We will make mistakes.”

“But Lord, we trust in your grace, and we know your grace will never forsake us.”

Several chapters later, we read Jesus reminding Peter and the rest of his disciples: “Do you want to see me? Do you want to recognize me?  Do you want to encounter me? Do you want to know me? Then feed the hungry. And it will be like you are feeding me.

Give drink to the thirsty. Clothe the naked. Visit those who are imprisoned, and you will be doing it to me.

This is how you will recognize me:

When you do it to the least of these; when you deny yourself; when you empty yourself; when you throw caution into the wind; when you give yourself away, when you do something that others consider to be unnatural and impossible; when you truly love your neighbor as yourself; when you forgive seventy times seven; when you stand up for the dignity, the worth and the rights of the those who are marginalized, even by some of your friends, even your so-called Christian friends; when you make it clear, to even members of your own family, that your faith will no longer allow you to tolerate hate; when you make a commitment to live modestly so you can give generously in a world that worships wealth; when you pray and work for peace in a world that only responds to threats of. violence; when you do these things… there I will be.”

My fear is that the church has watered down the gospel for its own comfort. And by diluting who the Christ commands us to be, by making him up to be some ghost of our own imagination, when people come to church looking for Jesus, he’s nowhere to be found.

I am afraid we have traded the authentic good news to proclaim to the poor for some unrecognizable, bogus news to appease the privileged. “Professing a faith,” as Jonathan Martin says, “where emperors feel comfortable and oppressed people feel unsafe.”

We have made church more about security and salvation and less about self-denial and sacrifice; more about receiving a blessing and less about being a blessing; more about affirming what is culturally acceptable and less about doing what is biblically mandated; more about keeping account of the sins of our neighbors and less about loving our neighbors; more about ignoring evil and less about confronting evil, calling evil by name, exorcising evil; more about worshiping Jesus and less about following Jesus; more about dying and going to heaven one day and less about living for Jesus and going to those places Jesus calls us to go today, places we may not want to go—dark, dangerous, dreadful places.[3]

Do you want to see him? Do you want to recognize his voice? Perhaps, more importantly, do you want others to see Jesus through our church? Then, let us embrace the authentic good news, the gospel of Jesus Christ in all of its fullness, all of its delight, and all of its demand.

For the storms are raging. Winds of hate are howling. Waves of violence have been emboldened. Each day, our world seems to grow darker.

And he’s coming toward us. Do you see him? Do you recognize his voice? He calls out to us with words that both comfort and challenge, words that calm and command.

[1] This point inspired by a sermon by William Willimon, How Will You Know if it is Jesus? August 2005.

[2] Words of Martin Luther King, Jr.

[3] This line is from the writings of Henri J. M. Nouwen

Let’s Overdo It!

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year A6 Comments

I might as well address the elephant in the room right here and now from the get-go.  The rumors are true. Rev. Mooty was right last week when he said: “I don’t know Jarrett, except that he is an eastern North Carolina boy.” Which he said was “a good thing.” And “that he was originally a Baptist.” Then, with tongue in cheek, he said he had “always heard Baptists made good Christians!”

So, allow me to use my first sermon to tell you how I got to this place where I am standing today, behind this Open and Affirming pulpit wearing a stole with chalice and a St. Andrew’s cross.

Although there many types of Baptists, I sometimes unfairly place them into two categories.

First,  there’s the hard-shell variety. These are the ones who don’t drink, dance, cuss or chew or go with girls or boys who do…at least not before Noon on Sunday.

Then there’s the category of which I was a part: those of the more moderate persuasion.

“Pastor, that doesn’t look like sweet tea in your glass.”

“Everything in moderation,” I used to respond.

“Let’s be Christian, but let’s not get too crazy with it.” 

 “Follow Jesus but don’t get fanatical about it.” 

“Embrace the gospel, but don’t go overboard with it.”

“Be a disciple, but don’t overdo it.”

“Moderation is the key to everything in life,” I was taught, especially when it comes to pastoring a church.

“Don’t upset the status quo. Don’t disturb the peace. Don’t stir things up.”  

“Moderation” is the key to playing it safe. Moderation helps one avoid conflict, in the community and in the church. Moderation keeps your congregation comfortable, satisfied, unchanged. Thus, moderation helps pastors pay their mortgages, get their kids through college, and fund their pension. Moderation makes for more pleasant church business meetings and uneventful board meetings. I learned very quickly that when you preach moderate sermons, you don’t have to spend your entire Monday smoothing all the feathers you ruffled in the congregation on Sunday morning!

Moderation is the key to survival in this divisive time. So, it’s best to avoid saying anything that someone may interpret as being “political,” especially from the pulpit.  

But then I started reading the likes of Barton Stone and Thomas and Alexander Campbell.

These Scottish-Americans had the audacity to preach revolutionary messages that called for a return to taking the message of Jesus seriously. They courageously denounced all creeds and confessions and radically committed themselves to following Jesus at all costs. And in so doing they were continually bucking the system, going against the doctrinal grains of the Church and defying the societal norms of the culture.

They preached and supported politics against slavery. They preached for the inclusion of all Christians at the communion table. And they openly criticized mainline Christianity and anything that didn’t jive with Jesus. 

And of course, the mainstream powers-that-be pushed back. They said: “Barton and Alexander, you’re taking this too far.” “You’re out of bounds.” “You need to tone it down, slow your roll, pump the brakes, moderate.”

But they would not bow down, back down or slow down. They refused to compromise. And for so doing, they were excommunicated by the Church and labeled heretics, radicals, rabble-rousers and fools. They were called every name in the book, but one. 

They were never called “moderate.”

During this same time period, other prophetic voices like William Lloyd Garrison echoed Stone and Campbell’s revolutionary opposition to the injustice of slavery.

Garrison wrote:

I am aware, that many object to the severity of my language; but is there not cause for severity?

 I will be as harsh as truth, and as uncompromising as justice. 

On this subject, I do not wish to think, or speak, or write, with moderation. 

No! no! Tell a man whose house is on fire, to give a moderate alarm; tell him to moderately rescue his wife from the hand of the ravisher; tell the mother to gradually extricate her babe from the fire into which it has fallen; –

– so don’t you urge me to use moderation in a cause like the present. I am in earnest — I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch — AND I WILL BE HEARD.

After studying the forbearers of the Disciples movement, one day a verse I read in the first chapter of Ephesians nearly jumped off the page.

 He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us (Ephesians 1:8).

“Lavished.” Don’t you like that? When I think of all my shortcomings and failures, I think: “Thank God that God doesn’t give grace in moderation. Praise the Lord that God just doesn’t give me a sensible amount of mercy, a reasonable amount of forgiveness, a rational amount of love. Praise God that when it comes to grace, God lavishes.

When we took our two children to the beach or to the pool when they were younger, Lori was always in charge of the sunscreen. And when it came to protecting her babies, she would always lavish them with the sunscreen lotion. The poor things would be covered in white lotion in from head to toe. 

And if I ever said, “Baby, don’t you think you overdid it a little with the sunscreen? Moderation, baby. Moderation is the key.” 

She’d look at me with this look of disappointment and say: “You must not love them like I do!”

When it comes to covering God’s children with grace, Paul says that God lavishes. When it comes to love, God loves all God’s children, thus God overdoes it.  

Disciples like to say that where the Bible speaks, we speak, and the entire Biblical witness testifies to this lavish grace. It is a grace that is extravagant, excessive, over-the-top, overdone.

Cain kills his brother Able, thus Cain himself deserved to die. But what did God do? God lavishes Cain. Cain is exiled from the community because of his actions, but God faithfully promises to go with him, mark him with grace and protect his life (Genesis 4).

Moses kills an Egyptian, breaking one of the Ten Commandments. But God chooses that murderer to reveal those commandments to the world and to lead the Israelites out of bondage into the Promised Land (Exodus 2).

David not only commits adultery, but kills the husband of his mistress (2 Samuel 11). Yet, Matthew proudly announces David in Jesus’ genealogy (Matthew 1).

The Psalmist proclaims that the Good Shepherd doesn’t just fill our cups, the Lord overdoes it as our cups runneth over.

The good news is, when it comes to grace, when it comes to love, God lavishes. God always seems to overdo it. 

The story of Jesus’ first miracle says it all. When the wine gave out at a wedding party, what does Jesus do? He turns water into more wine. But not just some water into a little bit of wine. He makes, according to John’s estimate, 180 gallons of the best-tasting wine they ever had.

And considering that most traditional wedding parties at the time were attended by 50 or so guests, it is shockingly obvious that Jesus really overdid it! There’s nothing moderate about 180 gallons of wine!

Then, there are all those stories that he told.

The father of the prodigal son doesn’t just welcome home his returning son. The father lavishes the son. The father overdoes it: “Quickly bring out a robe, the best one, and put it on my son; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it. And let us eat and drink and have one extravagant party!”

It wasn’t that the Good Samaritan stopped and helped the wounded man in the ditch. It was the way he lavished the man. It was the way he overdoes it by pouring expensive oil on his wounds, putting the wounded man in his car, taking the man to the hospital and telling the doctors, “Forget about filing insurance! Here’s all my credit cards, my debit card, everything. I’ll be back in a week, and if that’s not enough money to treat the man’s wounds, I’ll give you even more!”

And this morning we read where Jesus was teaching on a hillside and looks out at the large crowd that showed up looking for some hope. Thousands of them came from all over. They were hungry. Darkness was setting in.

The moderate disciples said: “Let’s be prudent, Jesus, and send them back to town so they find themselves something to eat.”

But Jesus radically takes all they have, blesses it, breaks it, and in an act that can only be described as revolutionary, feeds 5,000 people!

But the story doesn’t end there. They took up what was left over, and 12 baskets were filled. Once again, Jesus overdid it. Jesus took it too far. Jesus lavished.

The good news is that when disciples are willing to listen to Jesus, people in need— people who are hungry, poor, oppressed, marginalized, vulnerable, and hurting— don’t only get what they need. They always get more. They are lavished.

So, as followers of Jesus, how do we live?  Are we moderate with grace? Are we passive with justice? Are we subtle with kindness? Are we modest with mercy? Are we restrained with the good news? 

Afraid of upsetting our moderate friends and family, are we discreet with the extravagance of our love that sets an elaborate, excessive, overdone, and yes, very liberal table of grace every Sunday morning for all people without exceptions?

Or do we truly believe that the greatest commandment is to love the God of love with ALL of our heart, soul, mind and strength and our neighbors as ourselves?

Because the truth is that the church has been embarrassingly and tragically guilty of doing tremendous damage to the world, as well as to the mission of Christ, by loving others in moderation. 

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had something to say about that from the isolation of a Birmingham jail when he said:

The great stumbling block…in the stride toward freedom is not the… Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice…

The late John Lewis shared King’s frustration when he said:

Followers of the One, who when it came to love, never did anything in moderation, can no longer passively wait for a more just and equitable world, but we must be willing to stir up some holy trouble.

This past week I received these powerful words of encouragement from The Reverend Cyd Cowgill:

This is why I have answered the call to be a Disciple and to stand with this congregation in the spirit of Stone, the Campbells, and prophetic voices like Garrison, Lewis and Cowgill, around a table that has been lavishly prepared for all people, joining a group of Disciples dedicated to sharing the good news to this city, region and world: 

That when it comes to the revolutionary Word of God, 

when it comes to the boundless love of God, 

when it comes to the extravagant grace of God, 

when it comes to the prophetic justice of God,

when it comes to the radical inclusion of God, 

when it comes to the excessive and socially unacceptable hospitality of God,

when it comes to fighting for a world where every life has equal value, when it comes to standing and preaching and fighting against Christian White Nationalism, racism, sexism, sick and harmful religion, meanness, misinformation, and all types of bigotry, 

We will not compromise. We will not bow down, stand down or even slow down. We will not moderate. We will not equivocate. We will not excuse. We will not retreat a single inch. WE WILL BE HEARD!

A Prophetic Cup of Water

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment
Matthew 10:42-45 NRSV

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

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

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

So thanks for the invitation, but I prefer to just keep my place safe and comfy in air-conditioned sanctuary. I am quite content singing some songs, even listening to a sermon. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe I am cut out to be a disciple of Jesus after all!”For most of us, this seems like some good news! We who generally fail at casting out demons (even when they show up in church), we who would rather come to this lively place, than take the gospel out to the dying, we who take care of our own children while other children go hungry, and we who find praise far more satisfying than persecution, even we can open the doors of the kingdom through a simple act of hospitality, as small as giving a thirsty stranger a cold cup of water. 

“Praise be to Jesus!” we say. 

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

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

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

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

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

 If you have trouble believing it, ask Don Hames who recently fell through someone’s front porch while delivering a small box of groceries! 

Or ask him how the act of delivering a hot meal can actually lead to the disappointment, rejection and persecution that Jesus talked about. As they encircled Jesus to arrest him in the Garden of Gethsemane, ask him about the day the St. Tammany’s Sherriff’s department came to his home, after a meal recipient who was suffering with mental illness and paranoia had trouble believing in our gracious hospitality. 

But also ask him how simple, practical acts of acts of love have literally changed people’s lives, and I am not talking only about the lives of those we serve, but I am also talking about those who serve. 

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

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

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

But our neighbors are also thirsty. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let me share the story with you that helped to inspire this movement, we call Just Love. A few years ago, while serving as pastor, I walkedx into the church kitchen to get a cup of coffee. A woman from the cleaning service the church had hired was in there preparing to mop the floor. Although I had seen her almost every week for three years, I am ashamed to say that I did not know her name. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today, this is more important than ever. 

One of my favorite preachers, Diana Butler Bass, prophetically proclaims:

When the law fails to welcome and include, the practice of hospitality falls back to those who envision a truly accepting society — a community where all are welcomed and all are fed, a place of reciprocal generosity, humbled by the tender knowledge that (at any moment) we might be either host or guest.” 

The New Testament is clear. When Caesar’s law rules against hospitality to strangers, God’s people inveigh against such laws. We welcome everybody. We respect the dignity of every person. If you turn people away, you are turning Jesus Christ himself away.

The Cottage, Sunday Musings, Diana Butler Bass

“When the law fails to welcome and include, the practice of hospitality falls back to those who envision a truly accepting society — a community where all are welcomed and all are fed, a place of reciprocal generosity, humbled by the tender knowledge that (at any moment) we might be either host or guest.” 

The New Testament is clear. When Caesar’s law rules against hospitality to strangers, God’s people inveigh against such laws. We welcome everybody. We respect the dignity of every person. If you turn people away, you are turning Jesus Christ himself away.” 

Thank you, O God, for the hope that we can be a part of your plan for this world. Through Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Commissioning and Benediction

Go out from this place with hope—hope that you can be a part of God’s plan for this world.  Move out now and reach out to strangers. Love your neighbors. Yes, even your neighbors who are different, even those who are downright scary. 

Because your neighbors are thirsty. 

Welcome, engage, touch. Embrace. Make yourselves vulnerable to another.

Go home and metaphorically make a sign to be placed out front where you live that reads: “Cold Cups of Water for All! #JustLoveYourNeighbor!”

And may the love of God, the grace of Christ, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen.

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

Mercy, Not Sacrifice

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year ALeave a comment
Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

It is indeed an honor for me to stand before a congregation that has the audacity to believe that we should only exclude those people Jesus excluded, and that is no one—a church that not only believes that God’s love is for all people, but believes God’s call to ministry is for all people, with no exceptions. 

This is one of the great truths revealed in our gospel lesson this morning where we read Jesus calling a tax collector for a puppet king of the Romans to be a disciple. The oppressive taxes alone were enough to alienate Matthew, but the fact that the taxes went to a foreign government made Matthew hated among the Jews. 

Jesus is calling someone the religious establishment despised to be a disciple. Matthew, and his friends, are deemed morally reprehensible by the religious culture, yet, Jesus chooses to sit down at the table and share supper with them.

I believe it is very important for us to notice where Matthew was sitting when this initial invitation from Jesus to be a disciples takes place. In the third pew on the piano side of the synagogue? At a table in a Sabbath School class? No, Jesus has an encounter with Matthew while Matthew is at work, sitting in a tax booth out in the marketplace. I believe this underscores another great truth: If the church truly wants to fulfill the great commission and make disciples, then we must learn to find ways to go out and meet people where they are, instead of expecting people to come to us, especially those who may not understand that we truly welcome them here.  

After the Pharisees disparaged Jesus for demonstrating that there are no exceptions when it comes to the love of God, Jesus, rather ironically, reminds these teachers of the law that they still have a lot to learn. Notice that it is to the teachers he says: “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” “Go and learn what this means.”

The church today still has much to learn about how to truly be the church; however, perhaps the greatest thing we need to learn is this: that Jesus desires “mercy, not sacrifice.”

Jesús is quoting words from Hosea chapter 6 where we read the prophet speaking out against meaningless acts of worship, stating that what God truly desires is mercy, not burnt offerings, not sacrifices. The Hebrew word translated “mercy” is hesed, which denotes the love of God for us— a constant and consistent, compassionate and extravagant love that never gives up, gives in or gives out. 

And Hosea is not the only prophet who proclaims what God truly desires. In the first chapter of Isaiah we read: 

What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord;
I have had enough of burnt-offerings…
… who [even] asked this from your hand? Trample my courts no more; 

Bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination…
   I cannot endure solemn assemblies… 
Your appointed festivals my soul hates;
they have become a burden to me, I am weary of bearing them. 
When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you;
even though you make many prayers, I will not listen;
   your hands are full of blood. 
Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;
remove the evil of your doings from before my eyes;
cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed,
defend the orphan, plead for the widow.

 Isaiah 1:11-17 NRSV

It is in the fifth chapter of Amos we read:

I hate, I despise your festivals,
   and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies. 
Even though you offer me your burnt-offerings and grain-offerings,
   I will not accept them… 
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
   I will not listen to the melody of your harps. 
But let justice roll down like waters,
   and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

Amos 5:21-24 NRSV

And the prophet Micah asks: 

‘With what shall I come before the Lord…
Shall I come before him with burnt-offerings…
…He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
   and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
   and to walk humbly with your God? 

Micah 6:6-8 NRSV

“Go and learn what this means,” says Jesus, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” And it is then that we read about Jesus’ encounter with two people who need mercy. We read about Jesus healing a woman who was ostracized and otherized, deemed “unclean” by the powers-that-be as she had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. And then we read about Jesus restoring life to a girl who was dead, while the religious folks laugh and ridicule him.

I love corporate worship. I believe gathering together for worship is one of the great essentials of our faith. The word “church” is translated from the Greek word ecclesia, which literally means a “gathering” or “assembly.” And it is certainly good for us to gather.

However, what we need to learn is that our assemblies on Sunday mornings are meaningless to God without the unwavering and undeterred acts of mercy we are called to carry out outside these sacred walls during the week— acts of healing and of restoration, acts of liberation and justice.

When I was growing up in rural northeastern North Carolina, on Sunday mornings we had what we called, “Sunday School” at 9:45, and then we had what we simply called “church” at 11, which, of course, was the worship service. I should probably confess that I have not always loved corporate worship, for I will never forget how happy I was those times mama would announce on Sunday morning that we were eating dinner with grandmama, therefore we were going to Sunday School but then would miss “church.”

You know what I disliked the most about church? The preaching, of course!

And sometimes we even referred to worship or “church” as “preaching.” I remember asking: “Can’t we just go to Sunday School and skip preaching?”

Still today, when somebody today says: “I missed church last week,” what they mean is that they missed sitting in a pew listening to a sermon. Or maybe they missed singing some hymns. A Disciple might be saying they missed receiving Communion. The point is, that when we say that we missed church, more often than not, we are saying that we missed assembling here, in this building worshipping God.

I believe the prophets and Jesus want us to understand that “church” means much more, much more than our assemblies and certainly much more than this building. It means being the embodiment of Christ, the merciful hands and feet of Jesus in this world.

I believe God wants the church to create such a culture that if we say “we missed church last week”, we’re not talking about missing a sermon. We’re talking about missing an opportunity to love a neighbor as we love ourselves.

When we say “we missed church last week,” we’re not talking about missing Communion. We’re talking about missing an opportunity to feed someone who is hungry, or clothe someone who is poor, or give shelter to someone who does not have a home.

When we say “we missed church,” we’re not talking about not coming to this building, we’re talking about missing an opportunity to go city hall, travel to Richmond or to Washington to stand up and speak out for those who face discrimination, isolation and alienation. 

When we say “we missed church,” we are talking about missing an opportunity to bring healing and restoration to someone who has suffered spiritual abuse, or has been made to feel that they are outside the boundaries of God’s grace and God’s love. 

When we say “we missed church,” we are talking about missing an opportunity to bring abundant life to those who are treated as if they do not exist, forced to be called by their dead name. We are actually talking about raising the dead, despite the laughs and the ridicule we might receive from some religious folks.

“Go and learn what this means,” says Jesus, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice!”

Because when the voices of hate are loud, the world doesn’t need us to just go to church, the world needs us to be the church, to go out and show up as the church. The world doesn’t need us to only light a candle inside the sanctuary. The world needs us to be a light of mercy out in the darkness, a light that is so bright that it is bound to upset some religious folks!

When our children are being slaughtered by assault weapons, the world doesn’t need our prayers, the world needs our mercy.

When people are led by fear instead of by love, when queerphobic rhetoric in politics, and in many churches, is causing immeasurable suffering, when holy scripture is weaponized to support hate …the world needs our mercy. 

When a travel advisory against visiting another state is issued for our black and brown siblings, and when our trans siblings are denied healthcare and are unable to use a public restroom… the world needs our mercy. 

When reproductive rights are stripped from women, when greed is destroying the planet, when books are being banned, science is denied, truth is rejected, compassion is maligned, empathy is scarce and love is restricted …the world needs our mercy. 

When diversity, equity and inclusion, mercy itself, is outlawed, along with teaching our children the truth about racism, if there is one thing that we need to hear on this upcoming Juneteenth Weekend, is that our world needs us to go out, stand up, speak out, march, work, serve, fight and vote for mercy. Through our gospel lesson this morning, Jesus is imploring the church today on the behalf of the world to “go and learn what this means!” 

I believe this is the holy purpose of our Sunday morning gatherings here in this place, and this is why this time together here is so important, essential and sacred. In Sunday School and in worship, at and around the table, in church, we are to learn what it means to go out to be the church, to be the unwavering merciful, visible, demonstrative embodiment of Christ in this world. 

We are to learn what it means to go out into the marketplace to make disciples. We are to learn what it means to welcome those whom others fear and despise to the table. 

We are to learn what it means to heal the sick and raise the dead. 

We are to learn what it means to defend the orphan, plead for the widow, and rescue the oppressed.

We are to learn what it means to love kindness, to do justice and to walk humbly with our God.  

Through our gatherings in this place, together, we are to learn how to love this world as Christ loves this world. We come here to be refreshed and renewed, empowered and emboldened to go out and do all we can, with all that we have, to let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.

Amen.

LGBTQ+ Issues and the Church

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

LGBTQ+ Issues and the Church

Where’s the Hope, Ya’ll

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Sermon preached at First Christian Church, Hammond, Louisiana, on the First Sunday of Advent 2022

Like many Americans, I have tried to have a good thanksgiving this year. My daughter and her new husband, along with my son, have been visiting all week. We spent Wednesday and Thursday cooking and watching a lot of football. And then on Friday, we got the Christmas decorations out, put on some Christmas music, put up the tree and started decorating the house. After lunch, my daughter says, “You know what will really get me into some Christmas spirit?” 

“I don’t know. What Sara?”

“Going Starbucks and then to a shopping mall!”

“On Black Friday! Do you know how many people are going to be at the mall? 

That’s what makes it Christmas!”

So, over the causeway we went to Lakeside Mall. As we looked for a parking space amid gazillion cars, Sara started singing, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” 

When we got inside, we had to make an effort not to lose one another in the sea of shoppers. And we commented that we were glad we got the flu vaccine and the most recent Covid booster shot. As we stopped to take pictures in front of a giant Christmas tree outside of Macy’s, we were all startled by a loud noise. It sounded like someone dropped something on the floor, but we all looked at each other and said the same thing: “I thought that was someone shooting!”

In the wake of a pair of deadly shootings where an attacker opened fire in an LGBTQ nightclub killing five people; a Wal-Mart employee gunned down six coworkers before turning the gun on himself, and an eight year old boy fatally shot in New Orleans, celebrating Thanksgiving was difficult this year.

Twenty years ago, upon reflecting on the hatred, racism and violence of the world, the popular band known as “The Black-eyed Peas” had a number one hit in which they asked the question, “Where’s the Love, Ya’ll?”

Today, with the rise of antisemitism, political disparaging of LGBTQ people, and gun violence, I believe we are not only still asking “where’s the love, ya’ll?” but in despair, we are now asking, “Where’s the hope, ya’ll?”For we have endured so much. We have waited so long.

The good news is that it is the first Sunday of Advent and there’s an angel among us. An angel named Gabriel who has some good news for us in our despair. 

Today, we are reminded that there was an aging Jewish couple whose despair paralleled not only Israel’s waiting in despair, but also ours.

In an occupied land ruled by a puppet king, there was an old priest named Zachariah who was married to a woman named Elizabeth. Together, they lived honorably before God. But [and for a Jewish couple it was big but] but they were childless.

The despair of the couple is put in perspective as we remember that the bearing of children was considered to be a great blessing, and it was essential for carrying on the family name, perpetuating God’s covenant with Israel, and providing oneself with care in old age. Barrenness was regarded as a tragedy, a disgrace, and even a sign of God’s punishment. Their despair is heightened when we are told that they are now “getting on in years.” 

Rev. Zachariah is busy doing normal, traditional church stuff when the angel shows up, and he is terrified, and fear overwhelms him. Could it be that is because when we are doing traditional church stuff, the last thing we expect is for God to actually show up? 

It is then the angel assures Zechariah with familiar angelic words: “Do not be afraid.” It is then the angel says: “for your prayer has been heard.”

 I wonder what went through the old priest’s mind when he heard an angel from heaven speak those words: “For your prayer has been heard?”

“Finally, God is going to send down a legion of angelic beings from heaven to liberate Israel from King Herod and the Roman Empire!” “Finally, heaven has come down to earth and all of the wrongs in the world are going to be made right!” “Finally, God’s kingdom has finally come and God’s will is finally going to be done on earth as it is in heaven!” “The cosmic calvary is here and antisemitism, racism, hate and violence will be no more!” 

Whatever he was thinking, he certainly wasn’t prepared for the words the angel spoke next:

“Your wife Elizabeth is going to have a baby and you are going to name him John. Many will rejoice with you when he is born, because he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must avoid wine and hard liquor because, even while he is still in the womb, he will be intoxicated with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many sons and daughters of Israel back to their God. He will herald God’s arrival in the style and strength of Elijah, soften the hearts of parents to children, and kindle devout understanding among hardened skeptics—he’ll get the people ready for God.”

There is a big word for this type of experience. We call it an “annunciation.”  It’s the word to describe the call of God on a person’s life. It is when ordinary lives are caught up in the extraordinary purposes of God. We learn throughout the Bible, that this is the main way God chooses to work in the world.  God has always been in the annunciation business. 

When God’s people lament, “Where’s the love?” or “Where’s the hope, ya’ll?” God doesn’t send down a heavenly army. No, God sends one, maybe two angels, to call human beings to share the love, be the light, and offer the hope. Zachariah was praying for hope and an angel showed up and said, “Zachariah, you and Elizabeth are the hope. Your child will be the hope!”

It is then that Zachariah responds the way most of us respond when we are called by God—with a lot of doubt. Zachariah says to the angel, “Do you expect me to believe this?” For there is something about human nature that always doubts that God can use us to make any real difference in the world.

That’s the way it is with most all annunciations.  Like Mary, we ask: “How can this be?” or like Moses, “Why would you choose me? You know I am not a good speaker!” Do you remember the annunciation of Abraham?  When God called Abraham in the middle of the night, he was too dumbfounded to speak. Do you remember the annunciation of his wife Sarah?  When she was called, she laughed out loud! Like Zachariah and Elizabeth, Abraham and Sarah thought they were too old for an annunciation. 

A little girl was having trouble going to sleep during a thunderstorm one night.  Her father went into her room where she lay frightened in her bed.  She said, “I’m scared daddy, I don’t want to sleep by myself. Can I sleep with you and Mommy?”

He said, “Darling, you are not by yourself, God is here with you. So you don’t need to be scared. Just know that God is here watching over you and go to sleep.”  She said, “I know that Daddy, but tonight, I think I need to sleep with someone who has a skin face!”

This is why God is in the annunciation business, and this is what Christmas is all about! This is why the Word became flesh. This is why God came to earth…with a skin face! The truth is: everybody needs somebody with a skin face. God realizes that, and God calls people like you and me with skin faces every day for God’s purposes.

I believe all of us who are here today have our own, unique stories of annunciation. Lori tells the story of how she believed God was calling her to be a pastor’s wife, while she was yet a teenager.  But she didn’t tell me about calling until three years after we were married when I told her I believed God was calling me to be a pastor. I said, “Baby, if this is true, that you always thought God was calling you to be a pastor’s wife, what did you think when you married me?  I was selling cars at the time and had no idea I was going to be a pastor!” She said, “I just assumed you were my first husband.”

The truth is, all of us are called for some purpose which is greater than ourselves. This is good news for there is nothing in the world which is more hopeless than someone who walks this earth with absolutely no purpose whatsoever. Or is living a completely self-absorbed, self-centered life.

If we had time, I think it would be fun to go around this sanctuary and hear some of you share your stories of annunciations.  For I am sure that many people have often wondered, why some of you do what you do. Why you are a part of this church. Why you continue to give of yourselves through this church to make a difference in the world.

You may not know this, but Sam Hubbard and I work together to see  a few hospice patients each month. I would love to hear from the hospice nurse that Sam and I work with. She could have been anything she wanted to be, but for some reason she decided to become a hospice nurse. She decided that she wanted to care for the dying knowing all the while that she was not going to make a lot of money doing it.  

I would love to talk to some of my favorite school teachers and ask them: you could have been a done a hundred things with your life, but for some mysterious reasons you decided to be school teacher. You gave up untold riches so you could work with children. What made you do that?

What persuades some of you to spend a day in your retirement, not in the spa, on the golf course or at home, but out preparing and serving meals to college students?

So, in a world filled with hate and violence, racism and bigotry, death and despair—where’s the hope?  Although there are angels among us, they are not coming with a heavenly army. The angels are among us calling you and calling me, to do what we can, where we can, how we can, to live out the way of love that Jesus taught his disciples in order to bring some heaven to earth. You are the hope. We are the hope. Our children and grandchildren are the hope. 

Where’s the hope ya’ll? Ya’ll are the hope. 

Essential Activities of Faith

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Non-Lectionary, Uncategorized1 Comment

justlovefinal

Sermon preached at First Christian Church in Hammond, LA on July 12, 2020 and Northminster Presbyterian Church in Pearl River, LA August 30, 2020

When states began issuing stay-at-home orders in March, several made exceptions for religious gatherings as “essential activities.”

I believe this raised an important question for those of us who take our faith seriously: “What is an ‘essential activity’ when it comes to practicing the Christian faith?” And maybe more importantly: “Is the way we have always done church essential?”

I have been a student and even a teacher of Sunday School for much of my life. I have always believed in the importance of Sunday School? But a very good question may be: “Is Sunday School essential?” Like, can one be a Christian and not go to Sunday School?

Is singing hymns an essential activity? I love hymns, especially the old, traditional hymns I grew up with. But can one practice one’s faith and no sing?

And here’s a disturbing and potentially dangerous question for a preacher to ask: Is preaching a sermon or listening to a sermon an “essential activity” when it comes to practicing the Christian faith?”

When it comes to faith, what is an “essential activity?”

Jesus seems to have stated what he believed was essential to faith when he said:

“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, if you have love for one another’” (John 13:34-35).

And when a scribe literally asked Jesus what is the most essential law we should follow, Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”’ There is no other law greater [ I hear “more essential”] than these’ (Mark 12:28-31).

The Apostle Paul agreed that love is the most essential activity of our faith as he wrote: “All of the commandments are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

And just in case some people did not understand what love means, he added: “Love does no wrong to a neighbor” (Romans 13:8-10).

So, it should be obvious during this pandemic that if singing in a worship service, or attending Sunday School or a fellowship dinner can make our neighbors sick, and possibly kill them, then these things should be avoided. In fact, according to Jesus and Paul, it is an “essential activity” of our faith that we avoid them, contrary to what some of our states’ governors proclaimed.

I am praying that churches will continue to reevaluate what is essential to practicing our faith long after this world crisis is over—that we will continue to rethink the way we do church.

Because I do not believe Jesus ever said: “If you want everyone to know you are my disciples, it is essential to build a building and gather inside of that building at least once a week and worship me.” And as far as I know, Jesus never said: “To practice one’s faith, it is essential to sit in a Sunday School classroom and study me.” Or: “No one can be my disciple unless they sing about about me or listen to a preacher preach about me.”

However, Jesus did say: “No one can be my disciple unless they carry a cross and follow me” (Luke 14:27).

In other words, Jesus said that to be his disciples, to practice the Christian faith, it is essential that we sacrificially do the things that he did to love his neighbors: be willing to sacrifice it all; embrace humility; fight for the vulnerable; empower the underprivileged; feed the hungry; shelter the homeless; heal the sick; free the oppressed; welcome the outsider; forgive the sinner; defend the marginalized; and always speak truth to power.

Selfless and just service to our neighbors is what is essential to practicing the Christian faith. Attending a service with our neighbors has never been essential.

My colleagues have expressed sympathy to me for having the job of trying to plant a new church during a pandemic when large gatherings are not permitted. However, I do not believe there has been better time in any of our lifetimes to plant a new expression of church. Let me explain.

As soon as I moved to the Northshore in January as a church planter, I started hanging out at coffee shops on Sunday morning to meet people who did not attend church. And I met a lot of them! Most everyone I met expressed faith in Jesus, however, for many different reasons, they no longer expressed that faith through the church. They had a desire to follow Jesus, they just no longer had a desire to go to church.

Then, the Stay-at-Home orders came. Coffee shops closed.

I thought, “What in the world am I going to do now?” “How am I going to meet others who may want to be a part of something newd?”

Then, one evening while as I was home watching the local news on TV, a segment on people helping their neighbors during the pandemic caught my attention. They were doing a story about woman with a big heart named Pamala McKay, whose non-profit, God’s Unchanging Hands Feeding Ministry, was cooking hot meals and delivering them to food-insecure residents here on the Northshore, including the homeless.

I met Pamala the following Wednesday and she immediately put me to work helping to prepare, package and deliver meals to over a dozen food insecure households between Covington and Abita Springs.

I asked her if she needed any more help. She said, “I sure do.” So I called some of the folks I met in hanging out in those coffee shops and they have pitched in. The man who I said never felt welcomed in church as an adult is now delivering meals each week right here in Pearl River and Slidell.

Delivering the meals presented me with a new opportunity to build relationships with people who, living in poverty, have a plethora of other needs besides hot meals. I could no longer meet people in coffee shops, but I could go out to meet people where they live.

I met a retired school teacher who is a dialysis patient and double amputee.

I met a 41 year-old man who suffered a stroke and is disabled.

I met an an elderly widow who lives all alone with very little income.

I met a young father who is awaiting a kidney transplant who’s raising a house full of kids in a small single-wide mobile home.

I met a nursing home custodian who lives with her sister and several children in a home that is badly in need of repairs.

I met another man who has also been shunned by church his entire adult life, who is a caregiver for his elderly mother. They live in a trailer that leaks badly every time it rains.

And I met a seventy-year-old man, who worked 24 years at a country club until he got injured on the job and was subsequently let go with two-weeks severance pay. He currently lives alone in a shell of a home his parents built with no flooring, no furniture, no kitchen sink, no appliances, with the exception of an old ice-box.

And I met many others in similar situations.

I immediately reached out to all the folks that I met before the pandemic, some who said they were “done” with going church, and I offered them opportunities to not go to church, but to be the church.

Some started helping us prepare, package and deliver the meals with Pamala.

Others helped get a new wheelchair donated to the double amputee and retired school teacher. They helped to get the 41-year-old stroke patient home-healthcare. And they bought gift-cards to give to the nursing home custodian to help put gas in her car.

One donated a stove to the man who was injured at the country club who only had a hot plate with which to cook his meals.

And just this past Friday, one donated a double-oven and hooded stove-top to help Pamala cook more meals.

And many others have seen what we are doing via social media and have joined us.

Three families routinely purchase groceries for the children who live in the households that receive the hot plates. They will ride along to help deliver the meals and groceries and so they can assess needs and explore other ways they can help. Two are attorneys. One is a nurse. One is a healthcare professional. One is a retired police officer. And one is a baker, who has not only cooked meals for us to deliver, but now bakes cookies weekly to deliver to each of the households. One who is involved in delivering the meals each week buys fresh flowers to deliver with the meals. Each possesses a variety of gifts that can meet a variety of needs.

As a pastor, I have had tea with the elderly widow who lives alone. I have also offered pastoral care in the hospital when one resident became sick. I routinely offer pastoral care in the homes when I deliver the meals. I have even had the opportunity to serve communion.

With many church buildings closed during the pandemic, the folks involved in helping me with the new church are not attending a service of worship every week. But, more importantly and most essentially, they are worshiping every week withtheir service. These days, they may not be singing about Jesus, listening about Jesus, studying Jesus. They are, however, following Jesus. Together, we are doing what is an “essential activity” of our faith, we are loving our neighbors as ourselves. We are not going to church; we are being the church! We are making disciples. And together, others know we are disciples of Jesus by our love.

Just this past Friday, I discovered that 3,000 evacuees from Hurricane Laura were staying in hotels in New Orleans, many of them low income, children and elderly. I reached out to the person on the ground who is doing relief work with them and was told they were had an urgent need for adult diapers and baby formula for their most vulnerable evacuees. After reaching out to our little group, less than 20 of us, yesterday we were able to deliver 24 boxes of Depends and 16 big cans of Similac to the Sheraton Hotel on Canal St.

Here’s the thing, I reached out to the same group this week and asked them to come here me preach hear this morning, and looked around at who showed up. My wife is here.

But I have decided that that is ok. Because no matter what a governor may say, listening to me preach on Sunday morning is not an essential activity. Loving our neighbors everyday of the week is!

I truly believe that if all people of faith embraced the “essential activities” of our faith, if we stopped sitting around bemoaning how our church buildings are empty— if went out and just loved, if went out into the world, met people where they are and just lovingly treated them as we would like to be treated, if we just loved them as we were created to love, shown how to love by Jesus—then a light would shine in the darkness that is so bright, all of the evil that present in this world today, no storm, no wildfire, no virus would never be able to overcome it.

Church would begin to become meaningful and relevant to all people.

Selfishness would begin to vanquish.

Greed would start fading away.

Corrupt, dishonest, divisive politics would be voted away.

Racism, sexism and all types of bigotry would finally begin to die.

And a sick world and very sick nation would finally begin to heal.

Light It Up

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Non-LectionaryLeave a comment

Sermon preached at First Christian Church, Slidell, Louisiana, June 21, 2020

Matthew 5:1-14 NRSV

I would like to begin this morning by wishing all of the Dads watching a Happy Father’s Day and by sharing personal story about my father. I am not sure who else can relate to this, but my Dad has always been always been very persnickety about the lights. Ultra conservative might be a better word, but since we are living in this politically-charged era, I am going to stick with “persnickety.” Everyday, I heard it: “Who left on that light?” “Turn off the lights.” “Why is every light on in the house!” “Son, is there really a need to turn on the hall lights to walk a few feet to your bedroom?”

When I was learning to drive with my learner’s permit, I will never forget daddy ingraining it me that the headlights of the car should never be done until the sun set, until all of it completely disappeared over the horizon. If it was getting dark before sunset, only the parking lights were permitted. Turning on the headlights before the sun went down was a waste of valuable light! My father was, and probably still is today, a light-miser.

Jesus was also persnickety about light, but he seemed to be persnickety in the opposite direction. What I mean is that I am pretty sure no one ever called Jesus “a light-miser.” In fact, Jesus said that he was light, and not only light, but he was thelight. “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).

I believe Jesus was all about light because it was his life’s misson to get us to see something special in the darkness: the truth of who God has created us to be, of how God has created us to live.

I think it is interesting that Jesus actually spoke less about how we sin and more about how we see. Jesus said, “I came into this world for judgment so that those who do not see may see…” (John 9:39).

Throughout the gospels, Jesus asks: “Do you have eyes and fail to see?” (Mark 8:18) “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye?” (Matthew 7:3) “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see!” (Luke 10:23) “Prophets and kings desired to see what you see but did not see it!” (Luke 10:24)

Over and over Jesus talked about importance of seeing something that most people have difficulty seeing.

And what is it that we have so much trouble seeing? What is the truth that God wants us to see?

I believe the answer is in Jesus’ first recorded sermon.

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

Jesus wants us to see the truth that God favors the “poor in spirit.” Not the religious, the devout, the pious, or even the spiritual. Not the pastors, the elders and the deacons, not even the church member who serves every week in the soup kitchen. No, God favors the ones who have come to be served at the soup kitchen. They are not the ones with something to give. They are the ones with nothing to give. Jesus says the ones who are blessed, the ones who are blessed by God are those who, spiritually speaking, are completely destitute and needy. Their very spirits have been broken. And notice that Jesus uses the present tense. Not willbe blessed. Not mightbe favored. They are, right now, right here, blessed. And their future is the kingdom of heaven. Can you see it?

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

Jesus wants us to see that God favors the mourners. Not only those who may be mourning the death of someone, but maybe especially those who are mourning over their own lives, those who are wondering if their lives have any value. They remember how their fathers and mothers, their ancestors, were valued by this world. They consider how they are valued by this world. And they look into the eyes of their children and grandchildren, and they grieve. They cry out in the streets for their lives to to matter, yet Jesus calls them blessed and promises comfort. Can you see it?

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

The meek are favored, says Jesus. Not the strong. Not the ones with the personalities or the confidence or the physical ability or the privilege to do whatever is necessary to overcome all sorts of adversity and make it to the top. Jesus says, blessed are the ones who never seem to get ahead. It is the last, says Jesus, not the first, who survive and inherit the earth. Can you see it?

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

Not the ones who are righteous, but the ones on whose behalf the prophet Amos preached: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24).These are the ones who are unjustly judged, mistreated, shunned and bullied by society, even by communities of faith. They suffer grave injustices simply because of who they are.

They have been beaten up so badly by the world that they hunger and thirst for justice and righteousness like a wanderer lost in a hot desert thirsts for water. Jesus says that they are blessed, and they are the ones who will not only be satisfied, but will be filled, their cups overflowing. Can you see it?

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Not the perfect and the proud, the boastful and the arrogant. Not the ones who never admit any mistake. But God favors the ones who are fully aware of their imperfections, the ones who have made mistakes, terrible mistakes, and they know it. Thus, when they encounter others who are also suffering from unthinkable errors in judgment, they have mercy and compassion, and in their hearts, there is always room for forgiveness. They give mercy, because they need mercy for themselves. And because they are favored by God, they will receive it. Can you see it?

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

Not the pure, but the “pure in heart.” Not the ones whose outer appearance and abilities suggest that they have the best genes. No, God favors the ones with obvious disabilities and who are viewed by the world as genetically flawed. We are reminded of the words of 1 Samuel “for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). God will see the pure beauty of who they truly are and they will see God. Can you see it?

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

Not the ones who have necessarily found peace for themselves. But the tormented, disturbed and restless, who, because they are so continuously in chaos, seek to make peace whenever and wherever they can. Blessed are those who are without stability, but seek it, because they will find a home, a place of security, rest and a peace that is beyond all understanding, within the family of God.[i]

And this, Jesus pronounces, is not a prescription of how things should be or how things could be. Jesus asserts that this is how things are! Can you see it?

If not, then maybe more of us need to stop being light misers and get up and turn on the lights! Every light in the house!

Jesus announces: “I have come as light, as the Light of the World, to help you see it, to give all who are blind to it, the sight to see this world as God sees it.”

And not only that, Jesus says, you who seek to follow me, you who seek to do the things that I do, you who want to go to the places that I go, are also the Lights of the World. And you are called not to hide or conserve or be persnickety with your light, but to shine your light on what is the truth, so all may see the world the way God sees it.

We are to shine our lights by lifting up, accepting and caring for all people, but especially those the world leaves behind. We are to light it up by loving, accepting, and caring for the least among us: the poor, those who are crying out for their lives to matter, the weak and the underprivileged, those who need mercy, the marginalized who hunger and thirst for justice, the obviously flawed but pure in heart, and the spiritually or mentally troubled who yearn for peace.

Will we be despised for it? You bet. Will people say that the way we accept and love and affirm others is socially and even theologically unacceptable? It’s likely. Will we be demeaned and even persecuted by others, even by those in organized religion? Most certainly.

But here is the good news:

Jesus also said, “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you[notice the change in person] when people revile youand persecute youand utter all kinds of evil against youfalsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

So while some continue to live as persnickety light-misers in the twisted, dark worlds that they have created, a world where they blindly believe that it is the rich, the prosperous, the privileged and the powerful that are blessed and favored by God,

let us commit ourselves to living in the world created by our gracious, loving God, in the world that Jesus, the Light of the World, came to help us see.

And let us, as lights of this world, for the sake of this world, keep lighting this world up, keep turning on every light in every house, until the day comes when the eyes of all are finally fully opened.

COMMISSIONING AND BENEDICTION

Go now into the world and light it up!

So the poor will know that they are blessed.

Light it up,

So all who cry out for their lives to matter will be comforted.

Light it up,

So that the underprivileged will know that they are favored.

Light it up,

So that those who ache for justice will be satisfied.

Light it up,

So that the obviously flawed but pure in heart will see God.

Light it up,

So that those you yearn for peace will know security as God’s beloved children.

Light it up,

Knowing that if you are persecuted, yours is the Kingdom of Heaven.

Light it up,

Until the day comes when the eyes of all are finally fully open, and all may know love of God, the grace of Jesus Christ and the communion of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

[i]Inspired by Frederick Buechner. Whistling in the Dark: An ABC Theologized (New York: Harper Collins, 1988), 18.              

 

Religion Is Making the Pandemic Worse

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short Articles3 Comments

This pandemic is terrifying, and religion is making it worse.

Science is being denied in the name of religion as pastors, politicians and parishioners are ignorantly insisting that people should still gather for worship putting all of us at risk. But what I believe is even worse than that is the insidious theology that is being expressed by people of faith everywhere.

“God is in control” they post. “God doesn’t make mistakes” they say. “God is trying to teach us something” they sermonize.

Really? God, the creator and source of love, Love Itself, wants the most vulnerable among us to die alone, sick, afraid and unable to breathe?

I believe religion is making this pandemic even more terrifying, because there are too many people in this world who are following the wrong god.

Too many Christians have created their own version of God, their own Lord, their own King, who sits up on some heavenly throne pushing buttons, pulling levers, controlling, dominating, dictating.

A tornado strikes. They say, “God is trying to get our attention.”

Cancer happens. They say, “God has God’s reasons.”

A loved one dies. They say, “God needed another angel.”

A pandemic rages. They say “God must be angry.”

“God is in control. God does not make mistakes. God knows what God is doing.” They think they are making things better by saying these things, but they are only making things worse.

This is why I believe this week that we call “Holy Week” which begins this weekend is so important. The events we remember this week remind us what kind of God, what kind of King, we serve. Holy Week reminds us, contrary to what some of our Christian friends say, God does not rule like the rulers of this world. God does not reign from some heavenly throne in some blissful castle in the sky, but God rules from an old rugged cross, right here on earth, between broken people like you and me.

The rulers of this world rule from places of self-interest and self-preservation. They rule from places of greed and pride.

However, this Holy week teaches us that Christ is a King who rules from a polar-opposite place—a place of self-expending, self-dying, sacrificial, suffering love.

Christ the King does not rule with an iron fist; Christ the King serves with outstretched arms. Christ the King does not cause human suffering from some far away heavenly realm; Christ the King is right here in our realm sharing in our suffering.

Theologian Arthur McGill put it this way:

God’s power is not a power that takes, but is a power that gives.

God’s power is not a power that rules, but is a power that serves.

God’s power is not a power that imposes, but is a power that loves.

God’s power is not a power that dominates, but a power that dies.

This is why it is no accident that Jesus undertakes his mission to the poor and to the weak and not to the rich and the strong; to the dying and not to those full of life. This is why Jesus was so concerned about those marginalized and demonized by organized religion and the power-that-be. McGill continues:

For with these vessels of need God most decisively vindicates the divine power: a power of service whereby the poor are fed, the sinful are forgiven, the weak are strengthened, and the dying are made alive.

God did not cause this pandemic. The day the first person was infected was a day of anguish for God.

God did not create the layoff. The day you were told that your job was ending, God stayed up with you and worried with you all night long.

And God did not take our loved one. When they died, something inside of God died too. For self-givers are never takers.

A more accurate and theologically sound way of describing what happened to our loved ones when they breathed their last breath is that God came, and God, wholly, completely and eternally, gave all of God’ self to them.

So when this pandemic gets us down, we need to remember the great truth of Holy Week—Christ is King. And this King is reigning, suffering, sacrificing and giving all that God has to give from the cross. God’s throne is not made of silver and gold. God’s throne is made of wood and nails. God wears not a crown of jewels, but God wears a crown of thorns.

And when more people begin to understand this, that God did not bleed for only a few hours during one Holy Week, but continues, even today, to bleed for us, to pour God’s self out for us, perhaps religion will cease making this pandemic worse.

It will be what gets us through it. And then, together with our Easter God, we will make something very good come out of it all.

Are Religious Services Essential to the Christian Faith?

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short ArticlesLeave a comment

Of the 39 states that have implemented stay-at-home orders, 12 make exceptions for religious gatherings as “essential activities,” because practicing one’s faith is protected under the first amendment of the Constitution.

I believe this raises an important question: “What is essential to practicing the Christian faith?”

Jesus seems to have stated what he believed was essential when he said:

“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, if you have love for one another’” (John 13:34-35).

The Apostle Paul agreed that love is the most essential activity as he wrote: “All of the commandments are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”

And just in case some people did not understand what love means, he added: “Love does no wrong to a neighbor” (Romans 13:8-10).

So, it should be obvious during this pandemic that if attending a worship service can make our neighbors sick, and possibly kill them, then attending a service at this time should be something we need to avoid. In fact, according to Jesus and Paul, it is essential to our faith that we do not gather during this time.

I am praying that we will continue to reevaluate what is essential to practice our faith long after this world crisis is over.

Because I do not believe Jesus ever said: “If you want everyone to know you are my disciples, it is essential to build a building and gather inside of that building at least once a week and worship me.” And as far as I know, Jesus never said, “To practice one’s faith, it is essential to sit in a Sunday School classroom and study me.”

However, Jesus did say: “No one can be my disciple unless they carry a cross and follow me” (Luke 14:27).

In other words, Jesus said that to be his disciples, to practice the Christian faith, it is essential that we sacrificially do the things he did to love his neighbors as himself: be willing to sacrifice it all; embrace humility; fight for the vulnerable; empower the underprivileged; feed the hungry; shelter the homeless; heal the sick; free the oppressed; welcome the outsider; forgiver the sinner; defend the marginalized; speak truth to power.

Selfless service to our neighbors is what is essential to practicing the Christian faith. Attending a service with our neighbors is certainly not now, nor has it ever been, essential.