Turn Yo Sef ‘Roun Now

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

we alone get to choose

Luke 13:1-9 NRSV

Most of you know that I had the opportunity to serve with a congregation in Baton Rouge for three years.

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

Reverend Boudreaux was the part-time pastor of the Boondock Bible Church and Pastor Thibodeaux was the minister of the Backwoods Gospel Church located 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 they heard tires screeching and a big splash.

The Reverend Boudreaux yells at Pastor Thibodeaux across the road and asks:

“Do ya tink maybe da sign should jus say ‘Bridge Out’?”

Now, because I am a seminary-educated minister that has spent the bulk of my ministry preaching from mainline, city pulpits, I have always sought to differentiate myself from the so-called religious nuts. The repent-or-be-sent, turn-or-burn, reach-for-the-sky-or-fry, get-saved-or-get-microwaved style of preaching has never been a part of my repertoire.

Thus, when I preach a passage of scripture like our gospel lesson this morning, I have steered away from any interpretation that sounds like what Jesus is actually saying here is: “The end is near! Ya betta turn yo sef ‘roun now! A fore it be too late!”

For example, I have used this passage as an opportunity to have a deep, theological discussion on the problem of evil. I have said that here, in this passage, we have two basic types of evil in the world. There is natural evil, and there is personal evil.

The tower of Siloam, I have said, represents natural evil. In this fragmented world, sometimes tornadoes and floods destroy property and take lives.

And the Galileans massacred by Pilate, represent personal evil. In this broken world, sometimes a broken person will grab a gun, then walk into a peaceful of worship begin shooting everyone in sight.

And with Jesus’ very emphatic response, “No, I tell you!” Jesus is saying that God does not will such tragedy because of human sinfulness or any other reason. In this imperfect world, sometimes bad things happen to very good people, and there is no divine explanation or driving purpose for it.

However, maybe, to avoid sounding like a religious nut, I have actually missed the very simple point of this passage which is, “The end is near. Ya betta turn yo sef ‘roun now! A fore it be too late!”

Maybe the point that Jesus is really trying trying to make here is: “Unless you repent, you will perish.”

You have a little more time, but unless you start producing some figs, start bearing some fruit, at least start sprouting a bloom or two, you are going to die.

“But, Dr. Banks, that sounds too much like the hell, fire and brimstone sermons of those country backwoods churches, and you know that we moderate, mainline, sophisticated churches are way too smart for that.”

However, I have a feeling that through this passage Jesus is arguing that we may be too smart for our own good!

Luke tells us that people had gathered together, and they started doing what people do best when they gather together, even in the church. They began to gossip, especially about the sinfulness of others, the sinfulness of “those” people. “Those” people who had this tower tragically collapse on top of them.

Sadly, I believe this may be the only reason some people go to church these days: to hear about the sins of all those who are not in church, to feel good, religious, superior, righteous.

And Jesus is emphatic, “No, I tell you!”

It is as if he is saying: “You better stop judging your neighbors and start taking a look at yourselves. Stop worrying about the speck in your neighbor’s eye and worry more about the log in your own eye. Look, bad things happen this world. People die. It’s not a matter of degrees of rightness or wrongness, sin or sainthood. Everyone dies. And one day, you are going to die. So, you better repent. You better change. Ya better turn yo sef roun now. A fore it be too late!

And to drive the point home, Jesus tells the story about a fruitless fig tree. And the moral of the story is simple. Bear fruit or die.

Reverend Sharron Blezard believes this text is begging the church today to ask: “What are we doing to bear fruit, to bloom where we’ve been planted?”

She says that far too many congregations are merely existing like a barren fig tree, wasting the soil. There are no signs of any fruits, no promise of any blooms. These churches exist primarily to get together, and sadly to do what people do best: to gossip, to talk about the sinfulness of those outside the church, to lament about the moral decay of society, and to pine for the return of good old days.

And they’ve lost hope. They’ve grown too weary, too worn down, too disheartened to invest the energy, creativity, and passion to share the Good News of Jesus with a broken and hurting world. While many congregations do provide a place to take care of one another, they have no sense of mission to be the Body of Christ that is sent by God into the world bearing fruit.

She says, think of it this way: fruit always “grows outward from the plant into the light. So, too, a healthy church grows outward.”

Several years ago, my mother gave me a Rose of Sharon root. She told me to plant it, and it would grow to be one of the most beautiful plants in my yard, with its flowers blooming all summer long.

After planting the root, the plant grew, it did not produce a single bloom that summer. I called Mama and said, “I think you must have given me a dud.”

She said, “Oh no. It’s not a dud. It just needs a little TLC. You may need to dig around it, give it a little fertilizer. You may even need to dig it up all together and plant it in better soil. Make sure it is in soil that can soak up water and is growing in a place where it can get good light.”

As always, I did what Mama told me to to do. I ended up transplanting it to a spot that had better topsoil. I kept an eye on it, watered it, cared for it, and the next year, just like mama said, it produced the most beautiful blooms all summer long.

From the short time that I have known you, it is obvious that God has given this church many good gifts. The talents and resources that are here are astounding. There is not one dud in this room. And because of that, God expects us to be fruitful with those gifts. God expects our church to bloom.

I believe Jesus is asking us to take a lesson from a barren fig tree. To bloom and bear beautiful fruit will require some work, some sacrifice. We may need to dig around, put out some fertilizer, even transplant a thing or two. It may take some cutting back, pruning, shaping and nurturing.

Yes, it is scary. It is difficult. It is risky. But, Jesus says that it is the only way to life, the only way to bear fruit that nourishes the world.

Eddie Hammett, my friend and church consultant, loves to say that Christians need to stop going to church, and start beingthe church.

I believe he is talking about the difference between a church that is inward focused, therefore barren, and one that is outward focused, therefore bearing fruit for the world.

Hammett says:

Going to church is routine and easy. Being church in the world is challenging, difficult and calls for prayerful intentionality. Going to church keeps us safe…. Being the church makes us uncomfortable and challenges us to learn to BE salt, light and leaven. Going to church is familiar….Being the people of God as church is unfamiliar to many and overwhelming to most. May we press on in the faith…

And as much as I may want to avoid sounding country-fied religious nut in the boondocks and speak only articulate, sophisticated words that make us comfortable from this mainline pulpit in the middle of the city, maybe what we really need to hear is that the time is coming, the day is approaching, as it was for that barren fig tree, there’s going to be an accounting.

What we really need to hear is that we must bear fruit or die. What we really need to hear is: “The end is near, so ya betta turn yo sef ‘roun now! A fore it be too late!”

May we use the gifts God has given us to press on in the faith, step up and out in our discipleship, do the hard work of getting out the fertilizer and the shovel, doing some digging, getting our hands dirty to produce something sweet.

In the words of John Pavlovitz: “For in the end, when our time here on this earth is done, the world will be more or less kind, gentle, loving, joyous, peaceful generous and good because of our presence here, and we alone get to choose.”

There’s a big world out there, a world that is thirsting and hungering for the love of God. May we go out and bloom, bearing fruit in the image of Christ.

O God, forgive us for sometimes softening your words to make them more comfortable for our itching ears. Grant us a spirit of selflessness where we are selfish, a spirit of courage where we are afraid, and a spirit of urgency where we are complacent. Help us to change where we need to change, to work where we need to work, and to bloom, to bear fruit in a world that hungering and thirsting for your love.

Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed

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

Life is short

Luke 9:28-36 NRSV

One day, mama called me to tell me that her favorite first cousin had passed away.  He was only 63.  I then shared with her that I had just received news that a good friend who was in my class from college died very suddenly that week. I then proceeded to offer my sincere empathy.

It was then that mama started preaching as only my mama can.  There is never any sugar-coating with mama. It is always and only the truth and that truth comes at you so hard, sometimes is like getting hit upside the head!

Mama said, “Jarrett, your life could end any day just like that.”

I then heard this clicking sound. I said, “Mama, what is that.”

She said, “That was me snapping my fingers.”

“Jarrett, life is just a vapor, so you better be sure they make the most the little time you have left.”

As much as it pains me to admit it, the truth is, mama could not be more right.  She always speaks the truth whether or not she thinks I can handle the truth. This journey, this trip, this ride we call life is a relatively short one. And it would be a shame for any of us to miss it.

A preacher tells a story of sitting on airplane waiting to take off.  His seat number was 14D. The woman next to him sat in 14E.  No two seat mates could have ever been more different.

From her dress you could tell she was far from sophisticated. His finely pressed suit and shining shoes reflected affluence and sophistication. From her talk you could tell she was but a simple country woman.

He sat there beside her with his leather brief case and laptop computer.  She was surrounded by all kinds sacks and bundles.

It was obvious that she hadn’t had much experience with flying. “I don’t do this much,” she grinned. “Do you?”

He politely nodded a “yes.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky, that must be a lot of fun,”  She said.

He groaned—for he knew that it was going to be a long flight.

She volunteered that she was going to Dallas to see her son. And she filled in all the blanks—the boy has had the flu, a stomach virus really.  He’s had stomach problems every since he was a baby.  He has a back lab. The dog’s name was Wilbur. Wilbur is such a good dog. A little hand-full when he was a puppy, but now a lot calmer. As the plane climbed, she looked and pointed out the window. “Ooooooh—would you look at those trees down there; they look just like peat moss.”

People turned around in their seats and stared.  The preacher next to her wanted to crawl under his seat.

The flight attendant came by asking what they’d like to drink.  He quietly asked for a coffee.  His seat mate asked a second time about the choices. “Now tell me again what you’ve got.”

When her drink came she said she didn’t know that apple juice came in cans, but it sure was delicious. “I thought it only came in a great big jug.  I wonder if they got these little cans at the Winn-Dixie.”

And when the sandwich came by she said in way too loud a voice: “Why there’s even a little packet of mayonnaise in here.  Isn’t that cute?”

This went on the whole flight. The little woman did not miss a thing.

The preacher said that the men in front of them were discussing a business trip to Japan. The fellow behind them must have been a nervous wreck for he kept ordering two beers at a time. The woman across the aisle had important-looking papers stacked all around her. And as he opened his laptop and began to work, it occurred to him that the only person on the whole plane who was truly enjoying the trip was the crazy woman sitting next to him.

When the plane finally landed, she turned and said, “Now wasn’t that a fun trip?”  And as he watched her head down the aisle and leave the plane, he began to wonder: What was it that she had that he didn’t have?  What was it that she knew that he didn’t know?  Why had she enjoyed the whole trip from beginning to end while he was absolutely miserable?

Jesus took three disciples up to the top of a mountain. It was the midpoint in Jesus’ journey. The clouds were hanging over his ministry. The Pharisees and Saducees were making it increasingly difficult for him.  His disciples were constantly bickering with one another. Jesus was beginning to talk to them about suffering, Jerusalem and the cross. He talked about saving one’s life by losing it. He talked about dying to self to live forever.  And the disciples didn’t really understand any of it.

And then Jesus took Peter, James and John to very top of a high mountain, and there on the mountaintop something happened.  We’re not sure what occurred, but they called it transfiguration, which means transformation, change, metamorphosis. They began to see things that they had never before seen; more importantly, they began to see Jesus in a way that they had had never before seen.  Even Jesus’ clothes were transformed.

Then God spoke, saying, just as he did at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my son, the beloved…Listen to him.”  Listen.

This encounter turned the disciples inside out. It changed their lives and they were never quite the same again.

Now, you may be wondering what this story of Jesus has to do with the woman and the preacher on the airplane.  The answer is: Absolutely everything.

Roger Lovette has said that there comes a time when all of us need to disengage. From time to time all of us need to stop, look and listen.  We need to quit doing and just be. That’s very difficult for most of us living in the 21st century. For most of us believe we always gotta be busy doing something.

Robert Fulghum tells about a woman who was so stressed out she went to see a psychiatrist. After listening to her for a long time, he wrote out a prescription and handed it to her. She read the words the doctor had written: “Spend one hour on Sunday watching the sunrise while walking in the cemetery.”  Against her better judgment she followed the advice. One Sunday morning, as the sun came up, she stood in a cemetery, listening to the birds and watching the world come alive all around her. On that morning, she found herself back in touch with her life again.

We need to open our eyes to truly see the miracle of this wonderful journey we call life. On her journey, the woman on the plane saw. And the preacher sitting beside her missed the whole experience.

2 Peter 1:16 reads: “We have been eyewitnesses to majesty.”  What a wonderful thing to say about the Church!  One paraphrase says: You do well to pay attention. For when we pay attention, everything changes.  We may see things that we’ve never seen before.

Frederick Buechner has said in one of my favorite quotes:

if you really keep your eyes peeled to it and your ears open, if you really pay attention to it, even in the most limited situations, God through life itself has something to teach you.”  “Taking your children to school.  Kissing your wife goodbye.  Eating lunch with a friend.  Trying to do a decent day’s work.  Hearing the rain patter against the window. There is no event so commonplace that God is not present within it, always hiddenly, always leaving room to recognize him or not to recognize him, but all the more fascinatingly because of that, all the more compellingly and hauntingly.

Buechner continues:

If I were called upon to state in a few words the essence of everything I was trying to say as a novelist and a preacher it would be something like this: Listen to your life.  See it for the fathomless mystery that it is.  In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness:  touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis, all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.

When we pay attention to life, everything changes. We are given a brand new perspective. The transfiguration text says that when it was all over the disciples saw only Jesus.  The disciples were able to see the big picture. They remembered God had said, “This is my beloved Son.”  Thus, even when Jesus suffered, they would later understand that God was in it.  Even if it did not work out the way they thought it would—God was in it.  Not causing the pain, not willing the suffering, but present, working in it, transforming it, changing it, resurrecting it.

Very slowly they began to see this was a large thing, —this Jesus, this thing called discipleship, this thing called the church, this glorious thing called life.  And it was all sheer grace—unmerited, undeserved.  And everything changed.

Before I started running with Ainsley’s Angels, I would play golf with a group of retired men from my church. Most were in their mid to late-seventies, some in their eighties. One was ninety.

One sunny morning, as I walked up to join the group at the tee box, I remember making as casual remark: “It sure is a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

One of the men said, “Preacher, every day I wake up is a beautiful day.”  The other retired gents were quick to respond by saying, “Amen.”

Like the woman on the plane, the woman in the cemetery and the disciples on the mountain, those retired golfers saw it, they saw it.  My prayer is that all of us will be able to see it too. May we take some time to stop, look, and listen. May we slow down and pay attention. Open our eyes to see the sheer grace of it all. And then thank God for it. And live our lives being eternally grateful for it. Taking nothing for granted.

Life is short.  Life is a vapor. Our lives are going to be over before we know it.  Just like that (snap fingers).  I pray that none of us miss it.

Church or Club

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Sad day for United Methodists…

Rev. Dr. Jarrett Banks's avatarJust Love

inclusive church 2

One day, a long-time, very wealthy church member approached a new pastor and asked: “Pastor, are we going to be the kind of church that welcomes and accepts those people?

By “those” people, I am sure he was referring to people of color, people who do not speak English, people from other faiths, poor people, people covered with tattoos, undocumented people, mentally-ill people, LGBTQ people, people with police records or anyone who does not look like or think like him.

The new pastor answered, “Of course we are going to be that kind of church.”

The wealthy man replied, “I suggest that you do everything in your power to prevent that from happening, or I am going to take my family and my money and find another church!”

The new pastor responded: “Well, you are in luck. Because you will not have to search very long to find another church…

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The Real World

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

Walter Cronkite

Luke 6:17-26 NRSV

Dishonest, greedy politicians. Drug addiction. Gun violence. Russian collusion. Racist public policies. Perpetual war. Poverty. Haitian protests. Homelessness. Immorality. Inequality. White Christian Nationalism. Child abuse. Climate Change. Bigotry. Mental illness. School shootings. Sexism. Suicide. Sick religion.

Billy Joel once sang: “We didn’t start the fire. It was always burning since the world’s been turning.”

In other words, this is the way it is, and this is the way it has always been. This is reality. As Walter Cronkite used to sign off after talking about

Watergate, Vietnam, Charles Manson, Patty Hearst and the murder of John Lennon: “That is the way it is.” In other words: This is the real world.

Which raises a very important question: What is reality? And who gets to define reality. Who gets to say what is real in a world where, in the words of Plato, there is obviously “more shadow than truth?”

The world is forever telling hopeful, progressive Christians like myself to “get real.”  “Bleeding heart preachers like you are out of touch with the real world.” “Things are not getting any better.” “He’s never going to change.” “She is not going to ever be able to take care of herself.” “Preacher, you are wasting your time.”

“You know, I think faith in God is fine and all, belief in a higher power of love and justice is okay, but sometimes you just got to get real.”  “You say what now? That selfless, inclusive love can change the world? That love wins?” “Preacher, it’s like you are living in another world.” “You need to come off of all that progressive idealistic thinking and hoping and believing and face the facts!”

The world is forever telling people like me: “Wake up ‘cause you must be dreaming.” “Open your eyes man.” “Hello?!” “Get your heads out of the clouds, and get real.”

All of which begs my prior question: “What is real? What on earth is reality?” “What are the real facts of life?” And “Who gets to say what is real?”  Who gets to define reality?” “Who gets to name the facts of life?”  “Who is ultimately in charge of this world in which we live?” “Who gets to say the reason we are all here and the direction the world is heading?”

Do we really come into this place Sunday after Sunday to escape from the real world? After all, we do call it a “sanctuary.” When we enter this sacred space where all are welcomed, accepted and loved equally and unconditionally, are we entering into some sort of never-never land? What are we really doing here in this hour with all of our singing and hoping and praying and preaching and eating and drinking from this table?

Maybe it would help us to listen again to one of Jesus’ very first sermons. Now, you might think that Jesus would use his first sermon to tell us what to do. For isn’t that the purpose of a sermon? To learn what we must do in order to live a better life? You come to this sanctuary every Sunday to get some advice on how to survive out there in the real world.” Right?

But this doesn’t seem to be the purpose of this sermon in Luke. Jesus is not telling people what to do out there in the real world. Instead, Jesus is defining the real world. Jesus is telling the crowd what’s what. “Here are the facts” says Jesus. “This is the way life is.” “This is the real world.”

Jesus begins his sermon by pointing out the people in the world who are blessed. Jesus doesn’t tell people what they must do in order to be blessed; rather, he simply announces that certain people in this world are blessed. The entire first half of Jesus’ sermon is simply a list of facts.  He’s simply stating the facts of life. He’s telling us the way things really are in the real world.  In one of his very first sermons, Jesus is defining reality.

And it was as obvious to his first hearers as it is as obvious to us today, that according to Jesus, the way things really are in the real world is nowhere close to the way we thought they were. In a few simple statements, Jesus turns the whole world completely upside down. If you thought God was in the business of damning the sinner and rewarding the saint, Jesus says: “You better think again!”

Blessed are the poor—the same people whom we overlook, disregard, despise and consider failures, worthless. Blessed are the mothers who can barely take care of themselves, much less their children. Blessed are the fathers who are doped up and locked up and all together messed up.

Blessed are the hungry—the same hungry people who we know must be lazy or inept. Blessed are the ones who we think are always looking for a hand-out instead of a hand-up. Blessed are the unwaged and unemployed who we believe are solely responsible for most of their misery.

Blessed are those who weep—the same whiners and complainers who are always acting like they’ve had it worse than everyone else. Blessed are those who think they are the only ones in the world with problems. Blessed are those self-centered crybabies who believe the whole world should stop and join their little pity party.

Jesus says, that reality is, the God’s honest truth is, that God blesses those in the world whom we tend to curse.

I expect it was a shock for all the good, church-going, Bible-believing people of that day when Jesus completely shattered their old image of God and the world by introducing them to a brand new world. A brand new way of seeing things. A brand new reality.  A new creation.

Perhaps this is why Jesus begins his sermon by healing everyone who came forth and touched him. The mass healings were a sign that a new world, a brand new reality, was breaking into the old world where those on the bottom are brought to the top. In this new reality, those who are poor and those who are weeping are put at the center of what God is up to in our world.

No, in defining reality in this sermon Jesus does not tell us to go out and do anything. However, by implication, Jesus’ words lead all of us to think of some things that we need to do, to think of some places that we need to go, to think of some people that we need to see.

But we do not do these things or go to these places or see these people because Christ commands us to in his first sermon. We do not visit the nursing homes or the hospitals, we do not feed the hungry, we do not help a stranger clean-up her house, we do not give generously to the mission and ministry of the church because Jesus tells us to.

We do these things and go to these places and give of ourselves, because of the way we now know the world to be.

We rebuke dishonest, immoral, and greedy politicians who hurt the poor so we can get in line with what’s what.  We stand against racism and all kinds of bigotry to get real. We detest division and seek unity to get in step with the facts of life.

We deplore the worship of guns and all apathy towards war and all violence to get grounded in the truth.

We welcome and include children, we fight mental illness, and all sorts of addiction, we support healthcare for all, and we are good stewards of this earth, not merely because we believe Jesus leads us to do those things, but because we want our feet planted deep in the real world, in the new reality that Christ has revealed to us. We love our neighbors as ourselves, because we believe God’s got the whole world in God’s hands.

William Willimon tells the story of nurse who works with seriously ill cardiac patients. Most of her patients were born with defective hearts. She assists in the surgery and the care of people whose hearts have all but given out. Many of her patients do not make it through the very delicate and risky surgery. And most of the ones who do pull through the surgery have a very difficult time in recovery. They are prone to infection and a host of complications. It can be a depressing and very draining job.

As her pastor, one day Willimon asked her, “How do you do it? How do you keep going?”

Without hesitation the nurse replied: “Walks in the park.” She then explained, “I take an hour off for lunch every day and go for a stroll in the nearby park. And there I see people everywhere who are happy and healthy. I see children laughing and playing, and I see older people sitting on benches enjoying being with one another. I am thereby reminded that this is how things are meant to be. This is the real world. And this is what keeps me going day after day in hospital.”

Are her walks in the park an escape from reality? Some trip into never-never land?  No, they are for her, a realistic engagement with the reality of the way things are supposed to be. And these engagements keep her going in an oftentimes shadowy world where it is easy to forget what’s what.

That is, of course, one of the main reasons we come to this place Sunday after Sunday—to be reminded of what’s what, to get a grip, to capture a vision, to receive a picture of reality now that God through Jesus Christ has reached out to us. We come to this place, to this sanctuary, not to escape from reality, but to get real.

We come as shameful, sinful human beings who are unable at times to look ourselves in the mirror, and we receive grace and forgiveness.

We come feeling loathed and despised and lonely, and we find acceptance and love.

We come broken and sick and tired and weak, and we are given healing and wholeness.

We come with pain and grief and despair, and we are offered assurance and hope.

We come floundering and meandering, and we receive a purpose.

We come to this place failing and fading and dying, and we are gifted with life abundant and eternal.

That, my friends, is the way it is.

This is reality now that God through Jesus Christ has come into our world.  May we all have the grace this day and every day to get real, to live in this reality and to share this reality with all people.

  O God, grant us the grace to see the world as it really is, the world as you intend it to be, the world you are working to create for us. Keep revealing to us your intent for the world and for our lives. Then, help us to live in the light of that vision. Help us to align our lives with the true shape of reality, this day and always. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

A Word from the Lord

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

medicare-coverage-helpline-make-sure-featuring-joe-namath-large-5

Luke 4:14-29 NRSV

Tom Long tells the story of an incident that occurred in a church one Sunday morning in Charlotte, North Carolina. The minister had just finished reading the scripture lesson and was taking a deep breath before launching into the sermon when suddenly, a man, a complete stranger, stood up in the balcony and startled everyone by proclaiming in a clear, loud voice: “I have a word from the Lord!”

Shoulders tensed and heads swiveled around and upward to see the source of the interruption.

What “word from the Lord” did this man possibly have to bring to the people on that day?

Well, no one will ever know, for the ushers, says Long, “bounded like gazelles” up to that balcony, and before the man could utter another word, they had escorted him down the stairs and out the front door.

Now, with Long, I don’t blame them. I understand. The apostle Paul said we ought to do things with some semblance of order, and his was way out of order. Who knew what this guy had in mind. But it does cause me to wonder a little bit.

Isn’t it strange? Sunday after Sunday countless preachers in innumerable pulpits spread out their sermon notes, clear their throats, and begin their sermon, saying, or at least implying, that they have a word from the Lord. And nobody tenses. No heads swivel in alarm. No ushers leap into action. Instead, people sit back in their pews, crease their bulletins, silently check their watches, and settle back for the sermon. For that is what you came here for, right?  A sermon. Not a word from the Lord.[i]

This is exactly how it was on that Sabbath day in Nazareth. Joseph’s son Jesus was home for the weekend and had been asked to read the scripture lesson from the prophets and to preach the sermon. The congregation knew Jesus well. They knew his parents and remembered him as a little boy. They were no doubt proud of the reports that had filtered down from Capernaum and other towns about his preaching and teaching. So, they settled back in their pews to hear what this articulate young man had say. What were they expecting? A sermon. Right? Not a word from the Lord.

Part of the reason I believe we expect a sermon instead of “a word from the Lord” is that as much as we do not like admitting it, we really would prefer not to hear such a word. We prefer a simple sermon. We prefer some nice religious words, some nice sweet thoughts to help get us through the week. What we expect is a little “chicken soup for the soul.”  Some good advice to help make our lives run a little more smoothly, some encouraging words to help get us through the week.

A word from the Lord is completely different. A word from the Lord is disruptive. A word from the Lord is uncomfortable. A word from the Lord can be painful.

A sermon can be can be easily forgotten and even completely ignored. But, a word form the Lord must be heeded. A word from the Lord is sharper than any two-edged sword. For a word from the Lord is news, real news. It is news that turns our whole world upside down. A word from the Lord changes everything and forces us to adjust our lives to that change.r

It has been said that most people who pick up the newspaper every morning or watch the evening news are not so much interested in the news as they are in confirming that the world is pretty much the same as it has always been. “Democrats are still not cooperating with the Republicans and vice versa.” “Politicians are still lying.” “The New England Patriots are in the Super Bowl, again.” Yep, that’s the way the world is, it’s the way it always has been and the way it always will be.”

I am afraid that is why many of us come to church. We do not go to church to hear any real news. Instead, we go to church to have the things that we have always believed about God confirmed. We listen to the sermon to have the way we have been practicing our faith all of these years affirmed. We’d really prefer not to hear anything new. We’d rather not hear anything that challenges our beliefs, calls the way we practice our faith into question or creates any urgency to change. We are really not interested in hearing any real news.

For real news is unexpected. Real news is surprising. Real news is disturbing. Real news means the world is not the same as it was yesterday; therefore, I cannot live my life in the same way. A word from the Lord is real news.

It is news that demands change. It is news that demands a complete reordering of priorities. It is news that causes us to see the whole creation in a brand new way. It is news that moves us and mobilizes us to take some kind of action. It is news that often requires sacrifice. It is news that necessitates us doing things that we do not want to do and going to places that we do not want to go.

So, thanks but no thanks. Preacher, I think I’ll be just fine with a simple sermon instead. Either say some words to reaffirm what I already believe or maybe give me a little antidote that might help me live a happier, healthier life. Give me some good ideas that might fix some of the things that are ailing me.

I am afraid that, for some people, going to church is like heeding the advice of Joe Namath by calling the Medicare Coverage Helpline. People go to listen to the preacher tell them about all of the benefits they deserve, benefits they are eligible for as a Christian.

By the way, “Does anyone really believe Joe Namath needs rides to  medical appointments?”

I am not exactly sure, but I suspect that is what many people were probably expecting when they showed up to hear Jesus’ first sermon back in hometown Nazareth. They came expecting a sermon, to have what they already knew reaffirmed or to find out some benefits God offers them that they didn’t know about, maybe to get a little pat on the back, a little stroke of the ego, a little feel-good-pick-me-up to get them through the week, not a word from the Lord.

So, when Jesus stood up and began to speak, no shoulders got tense. No ushers tried to muscle him out into the street. People smiled and whispered to one another how proud they were of this their product, and how Mary and Joseph must be tickled pink to have such a fine son.

They came expecting a little sermon. But instead of a sermon, they got a word from the Lord. Jesus began to say things like, “For the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”

The crowd gets really quiet!  Someone whispers, “I know he didn’t say ‘hard,’ did he? I thought God was all about making things easy! I thought sermons were about making us happier.”

Jesus continues:

“Love your neighbor, including your enemies. Be a blessing to the poor and to all who hunger and thirst for justice. Stand up for the liberty of those oppressed and bullied by culture. By the way, people will persecute you for that, utter all kinds of evil against you for that, but pray for those who persecute you. Forgive those who have wronged you. Don’t judge. Accept others as I have accepted you. Deny yourself. Pick up your cross and follow me. Die to yourself. Don’t just hear these words, but do these words.”

And then, his words began to sink in. “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”  Today.Not yesterday, not in times gone by, not someday, but today.  Fulfilled.  Not read nicely, heard sweetly, or barely remembered, but fulfilled. In yourhearing. Not in somebody else’s. Not just in Abraham’s, Moses’, Elijah’s, and Deborah’s, but in you.

And the Word of the Lord was also not just for them. Jesus said it was for all people. It was also for outsiders, foreigners, those marginalized by society, widows and lepers and others who were not a part of their synagogue, their faith, or even their culture.

And it then became obvious that this was not just another simple sermon. This was a word from the Lord. This was news. Real news. God had come. God is present. Here. Now. Today. God is here, and God’s love is for all people, even for the lepers of Syria in and the widows in Sidon.

The world was now changed, for the Word of God had come, and the Word had come for all people. The Word of God had been made flesh and was now present in all its demanding fullness. And you could fight it, you could try to hurl its presence off a cliff, or you could accept it, you could follow it, but there was no way on earth you could ignore it.

Each Sunday morning, our worship should be about the gospel truth, the amazing good news, that God is alive and present to us this day, as alive and present here as Jesus was to those worshippers in Nazareth. Thus some shoulders here this morning should be a more than a little tense, for God has work for us to do!

God is here! God’s kingdom is now! God speaks words of love and of grace, of mission and of purpose, of vocation and of duty, that are fulfilled in our hearing. Words that, if we listen and respond, will send us out from the pews into the public square to transform our world.

[i]https://www.cathedral.org/worship/sermonTexts/tl080601.shtml

 

Why This Christian Pastor Is Pro-Choice: It’s Personal

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Rev. Dr. Jarrett Banks's avatarJust Love

abortion-debate

Introduction

As a married, father-of-two, Christian pastor who was raised in the rural South as an evangelical Southern Baptist, many are quick to make many assumptions about me.

The most prevalent assumption is that I am on the Pro-Life side of the abortion debate, as many assume that one simply cannot be both a Christian and Pro-Choice. Many believe it is a black and white issue, a simple decision between good and evil, life and murder.

As a married, father-of-two, Christian pastor, I strongly support the 1973 decision of the United States Supreme Court in the case of Roe v. Wade. And, of course, I do not believe I am making a decision to choose evil. My convictions about abortion are strong, because my convictions are personal.

My Personal Story

It was the summer 1993. My wife Lori and I had been married five years and were expecting our first child. I had graduated from seminary…

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A National Emergency

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

national emergency

There is no doubt that we have a crisis in this country. It is a spiritual crisis. It is a crisis of the soul. And it is a national emergency.

There is an anti-Christ spirit in our land that refuses to love our neighbors as ourselves. This spirit has poisoned religion in our culture to the point that people of faith are not only indifferent to the suffering of their neighbors, but they actually doing harm to their neighbors.

This spirit has reduced faith in God to something that is merely private and personal. Faith is understood as something that can save one’s own life, rather than saving the lives of others. It is understood as a ticket to leave this world, rather than keys to loving and blessing this world. Whereas Martin Luther King Jr. reminded us that “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is: What are you doing for others?” the church has made life’s most urgent question: “Have you accepted Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior so you can one day go to heaven?”

It is a spirit of selfishness. It is a spirit of greed. It is a spirit of power and privilege.

And although this anti-Christ spirit is obviously demonic, this spirit is not other-worldly. It is a familiar spirit that has haunted our nation since its founding.

The source of this spirit is most revealed today in the politics of Christian White Nationalism that is being fueled by the fear that black and brown people will soon be in the majority. The source of the anti-Christ spirit in our land and our national emergency is racism.

I suppose we think: “If we keep our faith in God personal and private, then we don’t have to obey what Jesus said is the greatest commandment, to love our neighbors as ourselves, and that include those who do not look like us.

The good news is that this evil spirit is no match for the power of love. It never has been and it never will. Love always finds a way.

A bullet in Memphis could not stop it. Jim Crow could not silence it. Civil War could not end it. And a cross in Jerusalem could not crucify it.

I believe the best way to fight an anti-Christ spirit is with the spirit of Love Himself, the spirit of Christ. We can respond to our national emergency and defeat the spirit of the anti-Christ by being the body of Christ, understanding that our faith is not solely a personal matter and should never be private.

The Gospels paint a portrait of a Jesus who is continually tearing down the walls that divide us. From the wall of heaven being ripped apart at his baptism to the temple curtain being being torn in two at his crucifixion, it is evident in the Gospel stories that no wall on heaven or on earth can contain or limit the love of God.

Jesus breaks every barrier erected by religion and culture. He touches lepers and a woman with a hemorrhage, making himself ceremonially unclean. He allows Mary Magdalene to sit at his feet as a disciple, a position (the feet of a Jewish Rabbi) that was previously reserved for male disciples. He welcomes little children to the dismay of his disciples. He learns from a Syrophoenician woman. He asks a woman from Samaria for water. He breaks the chains and liberates a demoniac. He eats and drinks with known sinners. He raises the dead.

I believe this is what is needed to attend to our national emergency today. Understanding that nothing in all of creation separates any of us from the love of God, as the Body of Christ, we must do the public, social and political work of Jesus to proclaim every human being is united by this love. We are all beloved children of God; therefore, we must all learn to live as beloved sisters and brothers.

And trust that love will always find a way.

Remembering Harold Stewart

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn MemorialsLeave a comment
harold stewart pic
July 17, 1946 – January 1, 2019

As evidenced by the attendance here this morning, the shocking news of Harold’s passing has been devastating to many.

We did receive some comforting words. Harold did not suffer. There was no prolonged illness, no pain, no struggle. Harold was given the opportunity to celebrate Christmas with loved ones here in Fort Smith and then in Nebraska. Harold was happy. He was full and content.

But then we received a dreadful word, a word that was difficult for us to hear, that that his wife Audrey, whom we all know he adored, had to drive home from Nebraska all by herself as Harold’s body was sent home by another way.

“Home by another way.” Those are the exact words Matthew uses in yesterday’s gospel lesson to describe the journey of the Wise Men after they worshiped Jesus, laying down their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Having been warned in a dream not to return to King Herod, we are told that they went “home by another way.”

“Going home” is of course how we like to talk about death. We find great comfort in the old hymn:

O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home.

“Home” is being with God. It is a place of perpetual belonging, acceptance, comfort and love. It is a place of eternal rest and peace.

In his book of Revelation, John described it this way:

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

See, the home of God is among mortals.

God will dwell with them;

they will be God’s peoples,

and God himself will be with them;

God will wipe every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

for the first things have passed away (Revelation 21).

So, in a way, going home is the goal of every believer. And as Christians, we believe that how we get there, how we go home, matters.

Do we go home following the instructions of King Herod? Do we go home by collaborating with the empire? Or do we go home by another way?

Do we go home following the way of greed and power, the way of self-centeredness and fear, the way of deceit and cowardice, the way of exclusion and isolation? Or do we go home by another way?

I believe the most comforting word, the most hopeful word for us this morning was what we first thought was a most dreadful word: “Harold went home by another way.”

As Christians, we believe Jesus showed us the way, the truth and the life, the very narrow, yet broad and expansive way home.

Matthew writes:

One day Jesus was teaching a large crowd of people. While he was still speaking, his mother and his brothers were standing outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone said to him, ‘Look, your mother and your brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.’

But Jesus replied, ‘Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?’ And pointing to his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mothers and my brothers!’ (Matthew 12:46-50).

In other words Jesus said, “here is my home, here is my family.”

I believe this story reveals that Jesus had a much broader, more expansive definition of home and family than we often do.

This, of course is why Gentile Wise Ones from the East were guided by that star to worship the Jewish Christ child: The people of God, the family of God, extends beyond Israel, and includes all people.

And so it was with Harold.

If I said to you, “Harold sure did love cooking for his family.” Your first response would probably be: “Which family are you talking about?”

Are you talking about the Stewart family? Or are you talking about his family at the Elks Lodge? Perhaps you are you talking about his family at First Christian Church?

Someone told me that he left Mike and Jane one of his famous pizzas in the fridge before he and Audrey left for Nebraska. That was so Harold. As his mother Roberta Ray used to always say: “It is very difficult to get Harold out of the kitchen!”

Harold also loved to make his pizza monthly for his Elks lodge family. And each time Harold invited me to the lodge and introduced me to other lodge members, it was obvious to me that he was introducing me to his home away from home. During the fish fry, he introduced me to his son Mike and daughter-in-law Jane, but he also introduced me to countless sisters and brothers. Chris Perry has written that Harold’s example and leadership is the reason they like to say that the “Elks Loge 341 is the friendliest little Elks Lodge in America.” That is because they are truly a family.

And of course this church was the beneficiary of having a brother named Harold in our family. Our brother Harold spoiled us with that infamous pizza recipe, the juiciest hamburgers you have ever tasted, unbelievable pulled-pork barbeque, and most recently, a Christmas dinner that featured a prime rib that Steve Riggs described best as “crazy good.”

What if I said to you that “Harold loved being there for his family?”

Well, are you talking about his sons Brian and Mike? Are you talking about one of his six grandchildren or his great-grandson?

Are you talking about his family at Fort Smith Restaurant Supply? Are you talking about the names of the people with whom he worked that he would text to his pastor requesting prayer for them when they were sick, experienced a loss or had a need?

Or are you talking about a child he mentored for the last three years at Howard Elementary School? Are you talking about the 12-year-old boy he visited once a week, oftentimes bringing him lunch, building his self-esteem, encouraging him in his studies and teaching him the importance of values that he may not learn in the classroom, like looking someone in the eyes while giving them a firm handshake?

Or are you talking about one of the children at the church who he made an effort to greet every Sunday morning before reaching in his pocket and giving them a piece of candy.

Yes, the good news is that Harold certainly went home by another way.

Speaking of going home by another way, it is no secret that Harold could literally build a home. His sons describe him as the best teacher they ever had. They even built an entire house together on Ten Killer Lake. Harold taught them how to do everything, from carpentry, duct work, heat and air, plumbing to laying tile and flooring. They said Harold knew how to crack a whip in such away that you never even knew there was a whip.

Harold could fix anything. His son Brian recalls that anytime he or Mike ever had a problem with their house, whether it be carpentry, plumbing, heating or air, all they had to do was call Dad. They said: “And it seemed like it was before we get the phone hung up the doorbell would ring and there would be Dad, standing there wearing a tool-belt around his waist and light on his head.”

With Harold, anytime something would break, his family said they never called a professional. They called Harold. Just like we did here at the church. Just like I am sure they did at the Elks Lodge.

Yes, more than anyone we know, Harold went home by another way.

Yesterday, someone asked Audrey: “How in the world did you drive home all by yourself?” She replied: “I had a good teacher.”

We all know how he absolutely adored and cherished his wife of 38 years, Audrey, but the love he expressed to Audrey always seemed to have an even higher purpose. For me it was like he was modeling for others what love looks like, what being a true gentleman looks like, what being an authentic disciple of Christ looks like.

As I watched him each Sunday morning, walking into the church building holding Audrey’s hand, opening the car door for her after church—it was as if he loved her as an example to the world how we ought to love one another.

Perhaps that is exactly what Harold was doing. Harold was not only a mentor to a young man at the Howard Elementary. He was trying to teach us all how to be wise men and wise women and go home by another way.

He was teaching us how share the inclusive, expansive love of God with all people; how to see and treat all people as children of God, as sisters and brothers; how to leave this world a better place than we found it.

Yes, as his sons have said, Harold was one of the best teachers we have ever had, for he taught us all how to be wise men and wise women by avoiding the way of King Herod that so many seem to be taking these days, and instead, choose another way:

the way of chivalry over the way of indecency,

the way of love over the way of indifference,

the way of compassion over the way of apathy,

the way of sacrifice over the way of self-centeredness,

the way of inclusion over the way of fear,

and the way of calmness and peace over the way of stress and worry.

And when we choose to go home by this way, not only will we change the world and leave this world a better place than we found it, we can rest assured that like Harold, we will see that the home of God is among mortals. With Harold, we will dwell with God and be God’s peoples. God God’s self will be with us.

To wipe every tear from our eyes.

Death will be no more;

mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

for the first things have passed away.’

There is a great old hymn with beautiful words that describes what Harold experienced the first day of this new year.

Just think of what it must be like to step on shore and finding it heaven,

Of taking hold of a hand and finding it God’s hand.

Of breathing a new air and finding it celestial air,

Of feeling invigorated and finding it immortality

Of passing from storm and tempest into an unbroken calm,

Of looking up and finding it home.

Church Growth Epiphany

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

empty pews

Ephesians 3:1-12 NRSV

These days every civic organization, every service club and every church is talking about it. Every week when they meet together and look around the room at the empty chairs and pews that were once filled with people, it is obvious to everyone that something needs to be done.

“We need to do something to reach more people.” “We need to change something increase our numbers.” “We need to expand our club.” “We need to grow our church.” And sadly, we need to grow not so we can do more things, change more lives, make more of a difference in the world; no, we need to grow just so we can maintain what we have. We need to grow so we can just keep doing what we’ve always been doing. We need to grow to just prevent us from dying.

This was the focus of our weekly Kiwanis meeting this past Thursday. And it will be the focus of our church meeting tonight, as it is the focus of countless churches across America today.

Yes, these days, the church has a lot in common with civic organizations and service clubs everywhere.

However, there is one main difference. And we have a word for that difference, and that word is “Epiphany.”

By the sixth day in January, the culture has moved well past Christmas.People have returned to work. Kids are back in school. And Wal-Mart has replaced Christmas decorations with gas grills and lawn mowers.

The church, on the other hand, insists on a full 12 days after Christmas Day to remember the visit of the Wise Men, gentiles from a foreign land, to the young Jewish Christ Child.

First recognized in the fourth century, Epiphany celebrated the revelation that the wall that was thought to divide humanity from divinity has been torn down. Epiphany celebrated what we call the incarnation, the mystery of the Word becoming flesh, of God becoming human, the revelation that Jesus was God and God was Jesus, the revelation that in Christ, God became one with humanity, the revelation that no wall, no barrier, no temple curtain, no obstacle in all of creation can separate us from God.

The revelation of this unity prepared the way for another unity, that is Gentiles, as represented by the Gentile Magi, should be one with Israel. This made it clear: Along with the wall that separated God and humankind, any wall of religion or politics that separated Gentiles from Jews, or separated anyone from the promises of God, should be torn down at once.

This is what Paul is proclaiming in our Epistle lesson this morning, and it is the revelation he began proclaiming in the first two chapters of Ephesians as he declares to his Gentile readers and hearers that they have been chosen by God for adoption.

“Adoption”—it is a wonderful word Paul uses to make the point that we do not have to be born into the people of God to be the people of God. It means that all are God’s chosen people. Although Gentiles thought they were separate from God, Christ reveals that they are not. As the Divine and the human became one in the incarnation, the entire human family is one in Christ.

Paul points out that it is because of his proclamation of this Epiphany that he is now a prisoner. We read in Acts that Paul is locked up because his inclusive message breached the walls erected by the religious powers-that-be. They accused him of teaching “against the law” and “bringing Greeks into the Temple” (Acts 21:28).

Can you imagine a preacher being accused today of teaching against the law by bringing a certain group of people into the church?

I think you can.

I believe this is the reason that Paul says that in former generations this revelation was not made known. No one had the courage to preach such radical inclusion.

Notice that Paul not only has the courage to preach it, but he seems undaunted by his circumstances in prison. That is because, for Paul, Epiphany is not just one day, or even a season, but Epiphany is his very purpose. He preaches and doesn’t mind being imprisoned because God has revealed this revelation to him giving him a holy purpose to share it with the world!

Through Paul’s courage, the Spirit has revealed what has always been the eternal plan of God, that the Gentiles are fellow heirs, fellow members of the same body, fellow participants in the promises of the gospel.[i]

When the church tears down the the walls that divide us, when we welcome and include all people, and all means all, then the church proclaims the creative diversity of God’s eternal wisdom. As we welcome and include and add to our membership different races, classes, and genders, we proclaim the mystery of God who brings all of God’s creation together by becoming human, by becoming a Jewish baby worshipped by Gentile kings from the East.

So, although we have much in common with civic organizations and service clubs these days that need to grow, that need to add to their memberships in order to survive, there is a major difference, and we call that difference “Epiphany.”

We should grow as a church. We should intentionally work to add to our numbers. We should all do all that we can do to fill these pews; however, it is not so we can pay our bills. It is not so we can keep up our property or care for our buildings. It is not so we can keep the staff we have or even pay the preacher. We should grow as a church, because this is our holy purpose, this is our divine calling. And it has always been a part of God’s eternal plan.

As a pastor, I have been to many church growth conferences and seminars. In almost everyone, the leader points out the number of churches that are closing their doors for good and selling their property. And the point is usually made that most churches are not willing to change anything, not willing to do the work they need to do to grow the church, until they wake up to the reality that if they don’t change, if they don’t grow, they too will soon die.

However, I pray this is not our motivation for concentrating on church growth in 2019. Avoiding shutting down the church like the government should not be our reason for welcoming, including, adopting more people into our church family. The fire that needs to be lit under us to do the work to grow our church must come from another place.

What I believe we need is a church growth Epiphany.

We need a church growth Epiphany that wakes us up to what has always been the eternal plan of God; that is, the promise of the gospel, the unconditional love of God, is for all people.

We need a church growth Epiphany that wakes us up to the radical inclusiveness of God’s love, especially for people who have always felt outside of God’s grace.

We need a church growth Epiphany, an awareness that this revelation has not always been taught, and in many churches today, is still not being taught, so it is up to us who have received this revelation to proclaim it boldly and loudly.

We need a church growth Epiphany that reminds us we are on a courageous mission trying to selflessly follow the way of a brown-skinned, Jewish Palestinian refugee who gave his life trying to tear down the political walls of hate and bigotry and to put an end to the divisiveness and exclusivity of religion.

We need a church growth Epiphany that refuses to build any wall that separates us from people who do not look like us, dress like us, or even believe like us.

We need a church growth Epiphany that this inclusive work is not for the fearful or the cowardly as this work has put many apostles in prison and has gotten many preachers fired. We need to be willing proclaim the inclusive good news of the gospel even when our neighbors and members of our own family ridicule us, try to shame us and shun us.

We need a church growth Epiphany that is continually and courageously reaching outward, beyond, as far away as the Wise Men were from Bethlehem when they first saw the star, to welcome and adopt all people into our family to join our mission of inclusive love and grace, mercy and justice.

We need a church growth Epiphany of the eternal plan of God to love, include and save all people. Because if we try to grow for any other reason, if we try to fill these pews in order to pay the bills, to keep up the property or to compensate the staff, we will die as a church. We will surely die.

Even if we add 1,000 new members, even if we begin ending each church year with a budget surplus, if we grow only to maintain and preserve what we have rather to fulfill our mission as bold proclaimers of the promise of the gospel of Christ for all people, we may live on as a club, but we will be dead as a church.

May it never be so.

[i]http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1507

I Smell Smoke

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Advent and Christmas, Sermons Year CLeave a comment

Pentecost fire

Luke 3:15-17 NRSV

Let’s be honest. Church, even as Christmas approaches, can be a pretty boring experience. Each Sunday we sit in the same pew, follow the same order of service, look at the back of the same ol’ heads, sing the same hymns, say the same prayers, and hear a sermon that we’ve already heard before.

I remember as a child doing all kinds of things to do to pass the time. I remember counting the number of times the preacher would wipe the sweat off his forehead with his handkerchief. I also remember holding mama’s hand and playing with her jewelry, turning the rings on her fingers, messing with her bracelets. And when she would get tired of all of that, I would just sit there and twiddle my thumbs, while secretly hoping and praying, begging for something, anything to happen.

Lord, if you love me, why don’t you send mouse running down the aisle, or through the choir loft? And Lord, if you really love me, maybe a cat chasing the mouse! How about bird swooshing through the front door!  Please, Lord, let something happen, something, anything!

I’ll never forget that Sunday my prayers were answered. In the middle of the typical, predictable service, while we were singing the offertory hymn, we began to smell this smell. It was hard to tell what it was, a burnt, smoky kind of smell. Then came the whispering. The hymn became more mumbling than singing. I heard Daddy whisper, “I think I smell smoke.”  Mama whispered back, “Gene, where there’s smoke there’s fire.”

Then, in the middle of the half-hearted singing and murmuring, someone in the congregation, shouted: “Fire!”

We then did what most folks do when someone yells, “fire,” in a crowded building. We got out.

We evacuated the sanctuary, but only to discover, there wasn’t really a fire. The furnace had simply over heated or something.

It was one of the best worship services that I’d ever attended!

As a pastor, there have been many a Sunday I’ve thought about that exciting day in church and secretly wished that it would somehow be repeated. In the middle of the service, oftentimes in the middle of my sermon, I have thought, what we need is somebody, anybody to stand up in this place and yell “fire” to just to create a little bit of excitement.

Well, this week, we’re in luck, because somebody is coming that is going to do just that! In the middle of our order of service that hasn’t changed in decades, comes this shocking introduction by John the Baptist:

“I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.

I believe we really need to hear these words, because of how these words cut across the grain of why most of us, especially us grown-ups come to this predictable place to worship Sunday after Sunday. Children may still pray for something exciting to happen at church, but we adults, we know better. We know that nothing ever really happens here. Nothing ever changes. If we’ve never done it that way before, then we’re not going to be doing it anytime soon. And you know something? We like it that way.

We come here seeking a place of comfort and quiet consolation. Because after all, our lives are always on fast-forward, a real-rat race, always moving, constantly changing. So, each Sunday we gather here, to sit down, to stop, to center ourselves, to get grounded, to touch base with that which is stable and dependable, even if it issometimes boring.

In our fast-paced world where we have grown accustomed to burning the candles at both ends, especially during these weeks before Christmas, we like to come to this place Sunday after Sunday to slow down, cool down, quiet down and settle down. In a world ablaze with constant change and ceaseless activity, we need a place, if just for an hour, to just chill out. So here we are. The problem is: here comes someone who does something as audacious as yelling “fire” crowded building!

When we least expect it and perhaps least desire it, John the Baptist stands up and says, “Someone who is more powerful than me is coming, and he is coming with fire!”

Moses had just killed a man in Egypt. He’s a fugitive, a sinful human being floundering in the middle of nowhere without a purpose. Then, out of nowhere, comes, you guessed it, fire!  A bush bursts into flames. Then comes a voice that lights a fire under Moses. “I’m sending you Moses to stand up to the Pharaoh, to the powers that be, to give liberty to the oppressed!”

And John says that Jesus is coming to those of us today who just want to unwind and relax, “I’m consumed with that “burning-bush” blaze and I intend to light a fire under you. I intend for you to rise up, speak up and speak out on the behalf of refugees and migrants, to proclaim with your words and actions liberty and justice for all.

The children of Israel were freed by Moses from Egyptian slavery.  But shortly thereafter, in the wilderness, they began complaining, “You know, at least as Pharaoh’s slaves, we had three meals a day. At least the status quo gave us some stability, some sense of security. But now, here in the dangerous wilderness, we don’t know where we are going or what we are doing.”

Do you remember the response of God?

God said, “You poor, poor babies. I’m so sorry. Let me slow things down a bit and let you build a comfy and cozy sanctuary from the wilderness. Let me give you some nice padded pew cushions, so you can sit down and take a load off. I’ll send you a good preacher to sooth your spirits, ease your minds.”

No, God said, “I’ll give you fire, a pillar of fire leading you out into the darkness, driving you towards your purpose, pulling you into my future. I’m giving you fire to lead you to be the people I am calling you to be out in the wilderness.

And here comes John, saying to those of us today who just want to sit back and lay back, “Jesus is coming and he is kindling that same Exodus fire. And he’s going to light you up and show you gifts you never even knew you had, reveal opportunities your never dreamed possible, and take you to places you’ve never been!”

When the prophet Daniel describes the throne of God, he doesn’t describe a reign that is stationary and static, immovable and immobile. No, the prophet says that God sits on a throne with wheels, active, on the move, going places. And they are not just any wheels. Daniel says that they are wheels of blazing fire.

And here comes John saying to all of us who prefer to be set in our ways, secure in our beliefs, Jesus is coming on a chariot with those same wheels of fire to change your ways, challenge your assumptions and move you to take action.

The disciples were gathered together after Jesus had left their presence. They were just following the order of worship, going through the motions. The ushers were making sure everyone had a bulletin, everyone’s comfortable and seated, doors shut, typical boring service, then, at some point, perhaps in the middle of the offertory hymn, the building began to rumble, the windows started rattling, the doors swung open, and somebody shouted, “fire!”

We call that day the day Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit showed up as fire. William Willimon says that on that day, “the church was born in the crucible, in the furnace of God’s fire.

[And here comes Jesus, saying to those of us today who have come to this place to check out and chill out], My Spirit is ablaze with that same Pentecostal fire and I’m looking for a few good men and women here who are combustible!’”

The truth is, when our church becomes nothing but a safe, static sanctuary, a place of secure stability where nothing ever changes, where we can cool off, cool down and just for sixty-minutes a week, chill out, we are not fulfilling our purpose as the children of a dynamic, moving God. We are not the incendiary force that Jesus ignites us to be. And we are one boring sight—to God as well as to the world.

Yet, when we be become ignited, fired up, disrupted, when we allow ourselves to be engaged by the Christ, when we truly decide to not just worship Jesus in here but to follow Jesus out there, to not just go to church but to be the church, when we move our church out of the sanctuary into the world, each of us using the gifts we have been given by the fiery Holy Spirit to serve him, to truly love all people as we love ourselves, to meet the needs of our community; when we lose ourselves and become caught up in the movement of God, we become a purifying and warming blaze, and it is, I promise you, a glorious site to behold, to God, as well as to the world.

The question today is: Will First Christian Church accept a baptism of unquenchable fire? I believe I know the answer to this question. For today, here in this place, the good news is:

I smell smoke.