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

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn MemorialsLeave a comment

whitie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Jesus was, himself, a painter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alternative Gospel

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

new-coke

Isaiah 58 NRSV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And we wonder why the world grows ever darker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isaiah continues:

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

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

Isaiah keeps preaching:

But they also complain…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With absolutely no strings attached, especially religious strings!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sewing Love: Remembering Bernice Crandall

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn MemorialsLeave a comment

bernice-crandall

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll be loving you, always;

With a love that’s true, always.

When the things you’ve planned,

Need a helping hand,

I will understand, always.

Days may not be fair, always;

That’s when I’ll be there, always.

Not for just an hour,

Not for just a day,

Not for just a year,

But, always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No More Sea: Remembering Barbara Campbell

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn MemorialsLeave a comment

barabara-campbell

There’s a famous list in the book of Revelation of things that we will not find in heaven. John says that when we all get to heaven there will be no more death, no more mourning, no more crying, and no more pain. And that is good news of us who are grieving today.

However, there is one more thing on John’s famous list that may be even better news. The very first thing which is on John’s famous list of the things we will not find in heaven is the sea. John says, “and the sea was no more.” Sounds rather odd doesn’t it? For even most of us who live in land-locked Oklahoma have a strong affinity for the sea.

To understand why John includes the sea on this famous list, we need to understand a little something about the book of Revelation. Revelation is a letter of hope written to the church in Ephesus while John was imprisoned on the island of Patmos for preaching the Gospel. At this time, the Christian Church in Ephesus was being persecuted by the Roman government. And John loved the people in Ephesus very much and wanted to be with them and help them through their persecution. But he was on an island, and the sea was the great barrier which separated him from the people he loved.

And John says that one day there is going to be no more sea. That means one day there will be no more of anything that will separate us from the people we love.

I believe these words should be especially hopeful for us today. For we live in a world where there are many seas that separate us from our loved ones.

For many of us the sea is distance, like the fourteen years that Kristin lived apart from her family in Texas. Like with John on that island, sometimes the seas that separate us from our loved ones are miles.

However, one of the greatest seas that some of us experience on this earth is what Kristin has called “a devil of a disease.” Alzheimer’s is a great canyon, a wide gulf, that separates us from the people we love, slowly, painfully, certainly.

Part of Kristin’s grief today is her realization that her husband Don and her son Henry never had the opportunity to know Barbara at her best.

However, she is very grateful that she moved back to Enid with them in 2012, when they noticed her health failing. Kristin, I believe, as I am certain you believe, that this opportunity to move back was truly a gift from God to you and to Barbara.

During this time, Henry was Barbara’s light and joy. Although she could barely get around during this past year, she never missed one of his soccer games. Kristin says, that while on occasion, Barbara might have forgotten who she and Stan were, she never forgot Henry. She would knit him blankets, buy him books, and in nearly every photo that Kristin has of the two them, she is beaming!

While John was separated by the sea from the people he loved in Ephesus, John sent them the Book of Revelation to let them know that God was for them, not against them; God was with them, not away from them. For Barbara, I believe Henry was revelation. Henry was light. Henry was a message from heaven letting Barbara know that, in spite of her deep sea of sickness, she was loved by God.

I believe this teaches all of us this important lesson: In spite of the many seas that separate us from our loved ones, we will never be separated by God.

And this is especially hopeful for us today as we are painfully reminded, that for all of us, the greatest sea we experience on this earth is death.

The good news is: Because we can not be separated by the love of God, John says, one day, there will be no more sea. Some day, some how, some way, there is going to be no more of anything that will ever separate us from the ones we love. Although distance, disease and now death have separated us from Barbara, John tells us that it is only for season. It is not forever.

John says that one day there is going to be nothing which will separate us from Barbara’s love that she had for so many, especially as a wife, mother and grandmother.

One day, there will be nothing more to separate us from the twinkle that was always in Barbara’s eyes. There will be nothing to separate us from the love and appreciation that Barbara had for the gift of life; from the Barbara who loved movies, music, the theater and the arts; from the Barbara who loved shopping and spending time with her daughter in New York City; from the Barbara who loved listening to her ham Stan sing and perform; from the Barbara who dancing with her husband. He might have owned the stage, but she owned the dance floor!

One day, John says there will be nothing to separate us from the Barbara who loved going on what was always longer-than-expected hiking trips with the family, and who loved graciously knitting baby blankets for unwed mothers.

Stan says that it was this act of grace, of knitting blankets for these mothers, that perhaps most touches him about Barbara.

Perhaps it is because that when these mothers-to-be perhaps felt judged and separated by family, even by people in the church, Barbara’s blankets were like a revelation, a light, a sign to these mothers that no matter how alone and separated by others they may feel, nothing can separate them from the love of God.

And it is because of this love that John says that one day there is going to be no more sea.

However, until that day comes, we are forced to live with the reality that we live in a world of seas.  A world where there is much that comes between us and those whom we love. I believe it is in these days that we need to cling to the hope that was knitted in each of those baby blankets, that although there is much on this earth that separates us from one another, there is nothing on this earth or in all of creation that can or every will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

 

I experienced this most fully nearly every time I visited Barbara at Garland Road during these last difficult weeks of her life. I hardly ever walked into her room and found her alone. Stan was always there, faithfully, attentively, lovingly. Always doing whatever he could do to comfort her, to let her know that she was loved and she was not alone.

Kristin calls her parents her role models, an example of how marriage should be. Always there for each other, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, until death.

When we consider the special relationship that Stan and Barbara shared, I believe we can become especially hopeful we consider that the Hebrew Bible often describes Israel as the bride of God and John in his book of Revelation, describes the people of faith “as a bride adorned for her husband.” God loves us with the same faithful love that Barbara and Stan shared with each other.

As Stan was always there for Barbara, doing all that he could do to let her know she was loved, God will do the same for us. God will do all God can do to remind us everyday through countless revelations, numerous signs, that there is truly nothing in heaven and or on earth that can separate us from the love of God.

We will experience this through the love of our family, and through all of the wonderful memories of this sweet woman. These memories are not only Barbara’s gift to, but I believe they are God’s gift to us.

God will stay with us through God’s holy church and through God’s Holy Spirit. God will stay with us and sustain us until that day comes when we see Barbara again, completely, fully, with no seas of separation between us.

One of Barbara’s favorite writers was Kahlil Gibran. I want to close this service with these beautiful words on death:

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;

And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.

Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?

Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Your People Will Be My People: Remembering Imogene Price

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn MemorialsLeave a comment

imogene-price

It was a little over a year ago when I first met Imogene Price. I had just been blessed to receive the call to have the opportunity to serve with this church as the senior minister. She was a patient in skilled nursing at Greenbrier, and one of the first church members that I went to visit.

During my first visit, I remember introducing myself to her as her new pastor. She asked me a lot of questions. She wanted to know where I was from. She wanted to know about my wife, my children, even my parents. At the end of her conversation, I held her hand and we prayed. And like I always try to do in my all my prayers, although I was new and still learning names, I called her by name, asking God to be with her.

A week or so later, I went back to visit her at Greebrier. And I will never forget that visit. I walked through the dining hall, through the little common area Then, I took a right to go down the hallway. Her room was just a couple of doors on the left. Right before I knocked on the door, a nurse stopped me.

“Excuse me sir, are you Mrs. Price new pastor?”

I said rather proudly, “Why, yes, I am.”

I thought to myself: “She must have said some good things about me. There’s a new pastor in town and the word is out!”

“Well pastor, you need to know that her name is Imogene; not Emmagene.”

I thought, “Oh my goodness, I made such a poor first impression during my first visit that Imogene is complaining to the staff about me!”

And then I thought (I know I know this is ridiculous, but I thought it): “This woman is going to be rather difficult.”

I know. It is laughable.

While I was in seminary, I took what we called an “Exit Class.” It was a class that taught us all of the things we would need to know in ministry that we were not taught in our Greek, Hebrew or Theology classes. And one of the things we learned was: How to deal with difficult people, like I thought Imogene might be.

One day the professor said, “You pastors need to know that you are going to have some people in your church that are going to be difficult. They are going be grumpy, forever complaining. You are never going to be able to please them. But one day they are going to need a visit from you. And you are not going to want to go. But you are their pastor and you have to go. So, let me tell you what I do. I tell myself that if I go and see them, afterwards I can have some sort of reward. I say to myself, ‘If you go see o’l so-in-so, afterwards, you can drive to Wendy’s and get yourself a Frosty!’”

So, as I knocked on her door that day, after being reminded how to pronounce her name, I thought to myself: “Well, after this visit, I guess I will be heading to Wendy’s!”

Of course, I quickly learned during that visit that Imogene was in no way someone that I needed to be rewarded with a Frosty to see. Imogene was the Frosty. She was the reward.

I am being serious.

Serving on a church staff, sometimes you have to do things that you don’t want to do. Like, attend a church board meeting or a business meeting. And I would literally say to myself “If I can get through this meeting with Don Johnson, going over all these financials, I get to go see Imogene!”

And it quickly became very obvious that the reason Imogene wanted me to pronounce her name correctly after my first visit was not because she was not trying to be difficult. It was because she was trying to be family. And family members do not mispronounce each other’s names. Strangers do that.

Imogene asked me about my wife, my children, and even my parents, because she wanted to make my people her people. Imogene was the living example of Ruth’s love and devotion to her mother-in-law Naomi. Although they were related by marriage, they were more unrelated as Ruth was a Gentile and Naomi was Jewish.

After her husband and sons died, Naomi decided to return to Bethlehem. It is then that Ruth says those wonderful words that we might remember:

Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me (Ruth 1:15-18).

Imogene wanted me to pronounce her name correctly; because, although I was a stranger, she wanted me to be her people.

And this is how she treated everyone. She loved people with this special determination to make everyone her people.

I never once visited with Imogene when she did ask me: “Now, tell me what’s going on with you and the people at church?”

I shared with the family that what made Imogene unique is that unlike some people who are confined to a nursing home, in and out of the hospital as much as she was during this past year, Imogene never withdrew from the world. She never gave up. She was always very interested in what was going on in the community.

And that is because she loved the people of this community. They were her people. And she made the commitment, the promise, to love her people until the very end.

The good news for us today is that Imogene not only mirrored Ruth’s love for Naomi, Imogene mirrored God’s love for each of us.

We are God’s people. Thus, where we go, God will also go. Where we lodge, where we live, God also lives. And where we die, God is there.

And this divine love is so powerful, that not even death can separate us from it.

And the special good news for us who loved Imogene is (and we know it. We feel it even today even in this memorial service, even in our grief): That not even death has separated us from Imogene’s love for us. She loved us, and we know deep in our souls, that she still loves us. She will always love us.

Thanks be to God.

From Meddling to Preaching

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short Articles1 Comment

 

wounded childrenI was still in my twenties pastoring my second church in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, when a church member met with me to set me straight:

“Preacher, you need to know that whenever you start preaching against cigarettes, you’ve stopped preaching, and you’ve started meddling.”

What he was saying is that he could sometimes tolerate me preaching parts of the gospel that made him a little uncomfortable. On many things, he could quietly agree to disagree. However, he would have big problems with me if I started preaching things that went against the very heart of who he was: a proud smoker from the city that RJ Reynolds built.

I respected where he was coming from. And although I did not believe the man should be smoking cigarettes, I never preached a sermon in that city against tobacco. In other words, in his eyes I never went from “preaching to meddling.”

Because I believe in the separation of Church and State, I have adopted a similar understanding when it comes to preaching and politics.

What I am saying is that I can sometimes tolerate politicians making policies that may make me a little uncomfortable. That’s just the nature politics. On many things, I can quietly agree to disagree.

But sometimes politicians stop politicking and start meddling. Sometimes the State enacts something that goes against the very heart of who I am: a pastor who has been called to preach the gospel that Jesus proclaimed.

And when they start meddling, we need to start preaching.

_______________________________

For further reading regarding preaching and politics, please see this article by Rev. Dr. Molly Marshall, my seminary theology professor who continues to inspire me today: What Does Preaching Look Like after the Inauguration

 

 

 

 

Guess Where We’re Going

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

places-to-go-people-to-see-things-to-do-78835745

Matthew 4:12-23 NRSV

Earlier this month, as I preached on the Baptism of Jesus, I said that what happened at Jesus’ baptism with the spirit of God descending upon Jesus like a dove can happen to you and to me. Somehow, some mysterious way, I believe God is continually revealing God’s holy self to us. We just need to pay attention.

Sometimes we call events like this “epiphanies.” All of a sudden our hearts are startled and awakened to the miraculous presence of God in our lives. And I truly believe that if we pay attention, if we keep our eyes, our ears and our hearts open to the possibility of it, this is something that we can experience every day.

Because all of life is a gift of God’s grace, as Frederick Buechner, one of my favorite preachers, says, “The sacred moments, the moments of miracle, are often the everyday moments.”

But here’s what I believe can be problematic: when it happens, when we catch a glimpse of the sheer grace of it, the absolute divinity of it, the contentment that we experience can be so comforting, the peace we feel is so beyond our understanding, and yet so real, that we may be tempted to overlook the primary purpose of all such “epiphanies.”

This purpose becomes clear when we remember Jesus experienced it at his baptism, at the very beginning of his ministry. In fact, the entire biblical witness proclaims the purpose behind every revelation. When God reveals God’s self to us, it is always in the form of a summons—a call. When God reaches out and reaches in, when God swoops and descends, God is always saying: “I have places for you to go, truth for you to tell, things for you to make right, and I have people for you to set free.”

In an ordination sermon installing Methodists who had answered the call of God to the ministry, William Willimon recounts the biblical witness:

Moses was a renegade fugitive in Midian. He had killed a man back in Egypt and he’s hiding out, working for his father-in-law. Suddenly, without warning, a bush bursts into flame. And a voice says to Moses, “I am the Lord your God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, I have heard the cry of my people. I have seen their oppression. I have come down to deliver them…Now, guess where you’re going?”

Little boy Samuel was asleep in the middle of the night when he hears his name being called. He’s has to be called three times before he gets the message. He hears a voice: “The house of Eli will be cast down for ignoring my commands, and the voice of God will be spoken to a new generation. Now guess where you’re going?”

Young Isaiah really didn’t want to go to church that Sunday but his mother made him. He never did get anything out of the sermon. He couldn’t stand the music. Then, without warning, the heavens opened, and there’s this vision and this voice. “Whom shall I send?  Who will go for us?”

Isaiah says, “Not me! I need to be honest with you God. I’ve got a lot of baggage from my freshman year at college. I have done some things I shouldn’t have done. I’ve said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

The voice says, “Perfect! Just the sort of honesty, just the kind of truth-telling that my people need!  Guess where you’re going?”[i]

It is no mere coincidence that all of the Gospels depict Jesus as we meet him in today’s Gospel—as one who is always on a journey, always going someplace, always on the way to liberate someone, to challenge someone in power, to defend someone vulnerable, to feed someone hungry, to heal someone sick and forgive someone who’s sinned, always on the move.

I’m afraid many of us have erroneously learned along the way that this thing we call faith is something that we possess instead of some road we travel, some place we go, some act of justice we do, some people we liberate. We have reduced our faith to merely some sort of personal relationship or some type of heavenly transaction, a divine stamp of approval or some kind of Get-of-Hell-Free card.

I wonder what in our world taught us that? Think about it. What in this world benefits when our faith is watered-down, lukewarm, innocuous? What is strengthened and emboldened on this earth if our faith is understood as merely a placid personal relationship between us and God instead of a life-giving, world-changing, justice-seeking journey? The forces of demonic evil benefit. The powers of darkness are strengthened. The voices of selfishness and greed, hate and bigotry, racism and xenophobia are emboldened.

It’s popular among Christians to talk about how we “invited Jesus into our hearts.” However, living in a sinful and unjust world where the first are always first and the last are always last, when we invited into our hearts the Jesus who preached the very opposite, what on earth did we think he was going to do when he got in there? Just come inside and relax? Maybe take a little a contented nap? Just stay with us, comfort, protect and assure us until one day we die and go to heaven?

We seldom understand that our faith is not something we possess in our hearts, but a journey with the Christ who is always on the move going to those places we would rather not go, to those places that are likely to break our hearts— when we challenge the selfish culture, when we speak truth to power, liberate the oppressed, defend the vulnerable, feed the hungry, heal the sick, forgive the sinner, and welcome the foreigner, regardless of the faith or the ethnicity of that foreigner. Thus, faith in Christ is always a risky venture, a dangerous mission, an unpopular march to places that are dark, despairing, and dreadful, to places that we would not go unless the Holy One God’s self was leading us there.

And if our faith is something else, something silent in the face of oppression, something static in the face of suffering, something stagnant in the face of injustice, then I believe we should question whether Jesus is truly in our hearts.

Like in nearly all of the stories of Jesus, Jesus is on the move in today’s lesson. He is walking along a road when he sees some fishermen literally minding their own business. Then, out of nowhere, comes the call: “I am about to start a revolution that will reveal that every man, woman, boy and girl in this world are God’s beloved children, and I am here looking for a few ordinary people like you help me! “Now guess where you’re going?”

And Jesus took them places that they would have never gone by themselves.

Sometimes, we Bible-believing church people have our faith completely backwards. We say things like, “Since I took Jesus into my heart” or “Since I got saved or got Jesus.” But that’s not the way God works. That’s not the biblical story. The story—the story of Moses, Samuel, Isaiah, James, John, Peter, Andrew and the story of you and me—is that we do not take Jesus anywhere—it is Jesus who takes us places. We don’t get Jesus. Jesus gets us.

Everyone is here this morning because you were called to be here. For some of you, your summons to this place was a dramatic and life-changing experience. For others, the summons has been a lifetime of gentle prodding and persuading. However, for every last one of you, God has reached out, reached down, reached in, and grabbed you. You have been called. You have been summoned.

In fact, God is summoning each of us right to go somewhere, to love someone as we love ourselves, to speak out on the behalf of someone who is being oppressed, to welcome and to embrace someone, to be a sister or a brother to someone who is searching for a home. We just need to keep our eyes, ears and hearts open to listen and look for the epiphany.

In reflecting on epiphanies that stir his soul, move him to tears, Frederick Buechner writes:  ut. And the reality is, that God is ing called to his journey, to this faithn.  is something

“You never know what may cause them. The sight of the Atlantic Ocean can do it, or a piece of music, or a face you’ve never seen before. A pair of somebody’s old shoes can do it. … You can never be sure. But of this you can be sure. Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go next.”[ii]

It is not an easy journey. There is great cost involved. Because of this journey, we will lose friends. Disappointed family members will try to tell us our faith should be kept private. And like the first disciples, we are prone to wander off course. In the face of great adversity, even persecution, we are liable to deny, even betray our Lord. But thank God that God does call us to be perfect on this journey. God, through Christ, only calls us to step out in faith and follow.

The good news is that, even now, Jesus is once more revealing himself, and Jesus is on the move! He has places to go, truth to be told, things to make right, and people to set free, and he wants to take this entire church with him! Now, guess where we’re going!

[i]Inspired and adapted from: Guess Where You’re Going,  A sermon at the Service of Celebration and Installation by William H. Willimon, Bishop, The North Alabama Conference of the United Methodist Church, November 14, 2004

[ii] Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark, 1993.

Disappointment at Christmas

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

christmas-disappointment-7159866

Matthew 11:2-11 NRSV

It’s the Third Sunday of Advent. The days are getting shorter. The nights are growing longer. The last month of the year is a darker, colder place to live. And it is in this cold December darkness that we are all a little more sensitive, a little more attuned to the real darkness and chill of our world. The world around us appears even more fragile than usual, more harsh, and more broken.

Human service organizations report record number of volunteers and donations in the days leading up to Christmas. It’s really kind of silly when you think about it. The homeless are still homeless in July. The cold are even colder come February. Nursing home residents won’t be any younger when March arrives, and the hospitals are filled with the sick every month of the year. But at Christmas, our hearts become a little more tender, and they tend to bleed just a little bit more.

And here lies our great December disappointment. Our holiday awareness of the world’s plight is the great paradox of Christmas. If God so loved the world that God was willing to become flesh and be Emmanuel, God with us, why is there so much pain and suffering in our world? Why is there so much poverty, sickness, injustice, and pure evil? Why is this world so cold, so dark?

Death, divorce, disease, destitution, desperation, despair—darkness—it envelops us like a December Arctic blast.

If God so loved the world that God was willing to become flesh and dwell among us, if Christmas really occurred, if God truly came, if good news actually happened, why is this world still so cold? Why are we left disappointed?

I believe these are the questions with which John the Baptizer struggled.

As we mentioned last week, John is the very first character in the Christmas drama. He is the one of whom Jesus says: “Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than [he]”. He is the one who had given his entire life to God, who had very faithfully and courageously lived out his purpose in life preparing the world for the advent of the Messiah. His important role in salvation history had been prophesied years earlier by the prophets Isaiah and Malachi. And he fulfilled this role with utmost humility and commitment.

When people felt led to worship him, John quickly said, “No, for there is one who is coming who is more powerful than me, for I am not even worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.”

And what does he get? What is his reward?

Imprisonment. He is locked up in a cold, dark cell waiting for the Romans to cut off his head.

Talk about Christmas paradoxes!

“Wait one minute!” John must have thought. “This can’t be happening! Not to me! Not to the one who was chosen by God to prepare the hearts of people for the Advent of the Messiah! I have been so faithful, so courageous. I have sacrificed, and I have given my all. And just look at me now! Look what I have gotten! Look where I am! My world could not be more cold, more dark!  Something is just not right about this.”

Can you relate?

I can.

So, there, in prison, enveloped in disappointment, John sent word asking Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come?” Are you the messiah? Are you the one about whom I have been preaching all these years?

“Or are we to wait for another?” Someone who is even more powerful. Someone who will finally come and set this world straight. For if you are truly the Messiah, why is my world so dark? Why am I sitting in prison about to lose my head? Why do I feel the way that I feel? Why am I so disappointed? Something is just not right with this picture. Jesus, I want, I need some answers!”

Jesus answered John alright. Just not the way he hoped he might answer. Jesus told his disciples to “Go and tell John what you hear and see. The blind receive their sight. The lame walk. The lepers are cleansed. the deaf hear. The dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”

What is Jesus telling John by pointing to these signs of the Messiah’s coming?

Well, I know what he is not telling John the Baptist. As one who has read about John ten chapters earlier in Matthew and as one who knows something of the disappointment of this world, I know that Jesus was not telling John what John wanted to hear.

Jesus was not saying, “Yes, John, I am the one. I am the Messiah of the world who is coming with my ax in hand to cut down the Romans and throw them into the fire! With my winnowing fork, I am coming to clear the threshing floor and burn your enemies with an unquenchable fire!

So Cuz, you just sit tight, because Christmas is coming and things are about to get straightened out! Somebody’s coming to town and he’s making a list! He’s checking it twice! So all who are against you, why, they better watch out!”

No, Jesus said, “I am he. I am Christmas. However, Christmas is not carrying an ax and a winnowing fork and harsh words of condemnation. I’m carrying bread for the hungry. I am carrying water for the thirsty, and I’m carrying words of forgiveness for the sinners.”

The one who is more powerful than John comes, but this powerful one comes with a different type of power: a selfless, self-expending power. He comes to rule not with an iron fist, but with outstretched arms. He comes to love and to save and to die. The Messiah goes into villages, not to burn them down with unquenchable fire. But goes into villages to eat at the table with sinners, to give hope to the poor, to bring wholeness to the broken, and to give life to the dead.” This one who is more powerful than John comes as a suffering servant.

From his cold, dark prison cell, John the Baptist heard about this so he sent word inquiring, “Are you the one? Are you the Messiah who is to come?  Or are we to look for another?”  John’s whole ministry had been pointing to Jesus, saying that he is the one. Now John asks Jesus, “Are you really the one?”

John preached, “The Messiah is coming!  He’s going to fix everything.  He’s going to straighten the whole thing out. He’s going to finally set things right.  But now the Messiah had come. And John the Baptist is in prison. And he’s about to have his head served up on a silver platter.

Anticipation of the Messiah has now met the reality of the Messiah.  And for John, and if we are honest, for even us today, there is some disappointment.

And all John was told was to look for these signs of his coming. And although these signs were not what he expected, and certainly not what he wanted, miraculously, John will soon learn, as we all are still learning, that these signs were all he truly needed.

And you know what I am talking about! The good news is: Jesus the Messiah of the world has come to this earth as the light of the world to save us all from Satan’s power, and there are signs all around us that prove it!

The blind receive their sight—you know people who are physically blind, yet they can see God more distinctly, see hope more clearly, and see love more purely than anyone with 20/20 vision.

The lame walk—you know people in wheelchairs who are more whole, more together, more able, and more gifted than some world-class professional athletes.

Lepers are cleansed—you know people who have been demeaned, degraded and dehumanized, yet they have more of a sense of belonging, of distinction, of purpose, of eminence, than royalty.

The deaf hear—you know some hearing impaired who are more attentive, more alert and more keenly aware of this miraculous gift we call Christmas than folks who can hear a pin drop.

The dead are raised—you know people who on their deathbeds were more conscious, more hopeful and more alive than some couples on their wedding day.

And the poor have good news brought to them—And we all know folks who do not have a dime to their name, yet they are richer, more satisfied and better-off than some of the wealthiest people we know.

And there was once an old preacher named John sitting in a cold, dark Roman prison cell, about to lose his head, who, although he did not always realize it, was more liberated, more unfettered and unshackled, and more free than any new born baby!

And then there are the small signs of Christmas that are all around us—in a friend’s or a spouse’s undeserved forgiveness; in the innocent love of a child; in a warm embrace; in a friend’s thoughtful visit, encouragement, empathy and love; in the breaking of bread, in the sharing of a cup.

And these signs can also be seen through serving a hot meal to a stranger; giving a coat or providing shelter to the cold and undeserving; visiting the lonely in a nursing home; and wrapping gifts for families you have and will never meet.

Yes, on the surface, John the Baptist may have been disappointed when Messiah did not come quite as he preached, when Christmas did not come with a fire to conquer and destroy his enemies. But I believe John began to learn, as we are all still learning today, that fire can take many forms. Yes, some of the forms are destructive and dominating in their effects.  But other forms are warm, comforting, purifying, light-producing and life-giving. These are the forms of fire which our Messiah, which Christmas takes in our world.

And because of this, on this Third Sunday of Advent, on this dark, cold day of December, we light another candle, and we are still learning that light does not disappoint us.

What Does Heaven Look Like?

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Heaven

Sermon written and preached by Dr. Jarrett Banks and Rev. Shannon Speidel for All Saints’ Sunday, Central Christian Church, November 6, 2016 to remember church members who died since our last service in May, 2016.

Revelation 22

To be honest, the promise of going to heaven one day, as heaven is often stereotyped, to live forever and ever and ever has not always appealed to me. Floating on some celestial cloud playing a harp for all of eternity does not sound like good times.

Furthermore, I have always been leery of Christians who seem to make going to heaven one day the whole point of what it means to be a Christian. It sounds rather selfish to me. And when I consider the selfless mission of Jesus, that type of theology seems to miss the whole point of what Christianity is all about.

I have also never desired to live in a mansion or walk on streets of gold. Again, because of what I know about Jesus’ identification with the poor, such opulence seems contrary to the words and works of Jesus.

However, there is one description of heaven in the Bible that I do find rather interesting, even attractive.

The most vivid and perhaps the best description of heaven may be found in the last chapter of our Bible.

What does heaven look like?

Although the description is certainly symbolic, it is nonetheless beautiful. There is a holy city, and in the middle of the city’s main street, there is a river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb.

What does heaven look like?

On both sides of the river, there is the tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, and the leaves on the trees have the power to heal the nations.

What does heaven look like?

Nothing accursed will be there. There will be no more hate; no more bigotry; no more ugliness; no more racism and misogyny, no more poverty, no more war, no more politicians and no more elections, no more of anything that is vile, foul or evil.

There is nothing accursed in heaven, because the throne of God, the compete rule of God, and the Lamb, who is Jesus the Christ, will be there.

And here’s my favorite part. There is nothing accused in heaven, because all of the servants of Christ will be there; together, gathered around the throne worshipping the Lamb face to face,

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Ed Wedel.

Paul urges the Christians in Galatia to take responsibility for doing the vey best that they can with their life” (Gal 6:5).

In Tom Brokaw’s book The Greatest Generation we read that for this generation, “responsibility was their juice. They loved responsibility. They took it head-on.” Responsibility was something that was what really got ‘em going.”

This is why I believe we will remember Edwin Wedel the epitome of the “The Greatest Generation.” Responsibility and faithfulness was his juice. Ed was responsible to his country, serving in WWII in the United States Navy, to his family, especially to his widowed mother who needed his care, and to this, his church he was so very faithful.

What does Heaven look like?  Heaven looks like Delcea Batterman.

In the story of the prophet Elijah in 1st Kings, coming into a struggling woman’s world and asking her to have faith, so that she may be given all that she needs, Delcea had faith. We can never deny the steady and firm faith of Delcea Batterman.  Delcea, didn’t just hear the word of the Lord in her life, she acted on it.  Delcea shared her gifts with others and uplifted all those she met. Delcea found herself in a blessed life because of all she was and all she believed and did.  She practiced an active faith, one of sharing, giving and presence.  Heaven must indeed look like Delcea Batterman. (1st Kings 17:8-16)

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Iris Butts.

In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we are reminded that God loves a “cheerful giver.” The entire creation speaks to the generosity of God. Iris Butts certainly had the heart of a cheerful, generous giver as she was continually looking for special projects here at Central Christian Church to support. Worth Bracher remembers being constantly contacted by Mary Beach calling to relay a message from Iris to find another project for her some of her money.

What does Heaven look like?  Heaven looks like Ray Feightner. 

The apostle John said: Love is of God, for God is Love.  And in this sense we can see the light of God in the life of Ray.  We can see the love he had for God’s people when he saw a man in his nursing home cafeteria, who happened to be black, and he had multiple people walking away from him because they refused to sit with him at a table.  Ray, having seen this, sought out this man’s table, shared his meals alongside him and they became fast friends.  Ray was willing to seek out what was right and act on it in welcoming ways.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Bob Shaw.

Jesus said there is no greater love than this, that one is willing to lay down their life for their friends (John 15:13).

After serving in the United States Army, Bob worked as a lineman for an electric company. One day, in Pawhuska, Oklahoma, Bob was on the ground while a fellow lineman was high in a bucket truck working on an electric line. Not knowing that the line was live, his co-worker grabbed the line. The electricity immediately grabbed him, not letting him go until Bob says he could see smoke appear to come from the top of his head. Without hesitation, and putting himself at risk, emulating the sacrificial love of his Lord, Bob climbed the pole and pulled his co-worker off of the line, saving the man’s life.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Jane Adams.

In first Peter, we are told to… “Be hospitable to one another without complaining.  Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, Service on another with whatever gift each of you has received.  Whoever speaks must do so as one speaking the very words of God; whoever serves must do so with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified in all things through Jesus Christ”.  These beautiful words so accurately paint the picture of Jane Adams.  Jane was a faithful servant of Central Christian Church, but also for all of God’s people in all areas of life.  Jane’s generosity of spirit spread throughout the lives of those who surrounded her.  Jane was passionate about the work of God, often serving silently without recognition and without complaint.  She opened her heart wide upon marrying her husband Paul and becoming a mother to his six children.  And this is definitely not shocking to anyone… they became hers and she became theirs.  Jane had a way of doing that in all her life, she became ours and we all became hers.  Heaven must indeed, look like Jane Adams.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Karolyn Bruner.

In Colossians we read that we are to clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience…forgive each other. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. (Col 3:12-17).

Karolyn will always be remembered by those who knew her for her kind and beautiful spirit, her big heart and generous attitude, for her talents in serving others, and as a very caring and compassionate person.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Johnny Matthews.

The Psalmist declares for us “I give you thanks, O Lord, with my whole heart; before the god’s I sing your praise.”  And very few people had as much thankfulness as Johnny Matthews.  Johnny lived a life borrowed, having survived a bus accident as a young adult, he became keenly aware of the gift of life and the thankfulness for more days to enjoy before finally being called home.  Because of these things Johnny lived life to the fullest extent.  His family, was a highlight of his life, always expressing a willingness to do anything for them.  Johnny was graciously thankful, never letting the truest fulfillment of life, escape him.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Gayle Lewis.

Isaiah prophesied:

Even youths will faint and be weary,

and the young will fall exhausted;

but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

they shall walk and not faint. (Isa 40:30-31)

We will never forget and always be inspired how Gayle kept the faith, persevered to fight the good fight, even in the midst of adversity, pain and suffering. Although the great storms of life—death, divorce, and disease, would come and sometimes knock her off her feet, Gayle’s faith in God would always propel her to get back up and continue with perseverance the race that was set before her.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Jan Newkirk.

The Apostle John writes these words “believe in God, believe also in me.  In my father’s house there are many dwelling places.  If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also”.  Jane Newkirk was rocking in a cradle in the church nursery of Central Christian Church and treated this church as her home.  She treated it as a special welcoming body that existed in the midst of God’s loving care.  Jan would actively prepare the worship space for God, even making sure the candles for communion were freshly bronzed or silvered out of respect for its reverence.  And just as she prepared a place for us all in this experience of worship, we can be assured she is in a place especially prepared for her.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Phyllis May.

The Psalmist declares that the steadfastness of the Lord endures forever. We got a glimpse of this steadfastness in Phyllis. As part of the Caregiver ministry team, she continued to telephone people in our community who needed calling on even when she was unable to physically visit with them.

Call it pride. Call it a strong will. Whatever you call it, Phyllis had it. She had this steadfastness, this relentless persistence about her. Yet, one hesitates to call it stubborn or obstinate, or hardheaded, because, with Phyllis, it was more aptly described as a gracious persistence, a steadfast love.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Helen Chisum.

The apostle Paul writes that we are to Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.  Helen Chisum embodied all of these attributes through the many mountains and valleys in her life.  Helen always persevered through the lose of spouses and raising her seven children throughout the immense lost and grief that accompanied her pain and struggle.  Helen was steady and present.  She was someone who was flexible with her dreams, always willing to walk the paths afforded to her and relying always on an ever-present God, who never gave up on her strength and always encouraged her perseverance for the journey.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Joan Ingmire.

When Jesus sent his disciples into the world to be his hands and feet, welcoming little children and caring for the sick, Jesus sent them out without a purse, without money, as examples of selfless self-giving. As a faithful disciple of Christ Joan volunteered over 6,000 hours at St. Mary’s hospital caring for the sick. And while she was a member of the Christian Church in Billings, more than anything, Joan loved teaching children about this sacrificial love in Vacation Bible School.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Jim Butler.

In Genesis we are taught very clearly about hospitatlity.  In Chapter 18 we hear this story The Lord appeared to Abraham[a] by the oaks[b] of Mamre, as he sat at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day. 2 He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When he saw them, he ran from the tent entrance to meet them, and bowed down to the ground.  This story of humbling oneself before God is followed by Abraham giving him the best of everything he had in true hospitable fashion and there has been such hospitality offered here, in the life of Jim Butler.  There wasn’t a time when a visit with Jim wasn’t started by seeing the biggest smile and “Boy am I glad to see you!”.  And you know what, he truly meant it!  Jim was a beacon of hospitality and welcome in a world that often struggles to find it’s way.  Jim knew what it meant to welcome others as the lord welcomes us all and made you feel it each and every time you were together.  Jim’s genuine love and welcome for all people has to be what heaven looks like.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Inez Fisher.

Jesus said that when we give, not to sound trumpets and call attention to ourselves, but we should give in secret, and our God who sees what is done in secret will reward us. Inez was one of those ‘behind-the scenes” church worker. For years she could always be counted on to put mailing labels on the Visitor the church newsletter. She was the reason that many of you received your newsletter, and you never knew it. Several of you were bothered that she did not have a memorial service. But that was who she was. Full of humility, she never wanted to call attention to herself.

What does heaven look like? Heaven looks like Jimmy Johnson.

The gospel of Luke shares with us all that “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”  No greater words can be said in regards to Johnny Johnson.  Johnny was a man who was bigger than life.  He lit up a room with his joyous personality and his humor.  He was a jack of all trades and kept busy, but as a family member states, he will be most remembered for is unconditional love for all people.  Johnny was a man who truly loved his neighbors, near and far.  He sought out the opportunity to help people who needed it, showed up for people, and held them all within a caring heart that he carried with him everywhere he would go.  As a man who embodied Jesus’ only commands to the fullest, it is without a doubt that Heaven must look like Johnny Johnson.

What does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like a river of life, bright as crystal. Heaven looks like a tree of life with branches of healing. Heaven looks like the rule of Christ, the Kingdom of God. And the good news is that heaven looks like the servants, of God, members of this family of faith who have gone before us, who are now and forever worshiping the Christ.

They all taught us that heaven looks like the words and works of Jesus. Heaven looks like who God is calling us to be as the church. Heaven looks like extravagant grace and unconditional love. Heaven looks like the selflessness of Jesus, the mission of Jesus.

So, maybe living forever is not so bad after all.

 

Thank you O God for the way the saints who have gone before us still teach us how to live, how to serve, how to follow our Lord to be the church you are calling us to be. Amen.

The Main Thing Is to Keep the Main Thing the Main Thing

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Non-Lectionary1 Comment

flounder

Sermon delivered at Providence Baptist Church, Shawboro, North Carolina for their 190th Homecoming Celebration.

Luke 5:1-11 NRSV

Everything that I ever needed to know about how to be a minister, how to love my neighbors, how to preach, how to lead a congregation, how to administer pastoral care, how to pray for others, and how to have a covered-dish luncheon, I learned from my church family at Providence Baptist Church and from my family that raised me in Shawboro.

My fondest memories include Bill Dawson and Steve Saunders taking the youth group to Caswell. After seminary, I continued to take youth to Caswell, and in the early nineties, Kyle Matthews taught us a song at Caswell that continues to inform my understanding of what church is all about.

“The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.”

Growing up in this very special corner of the world surrounded by water, I learned that the main thing that the church should keep the main thing has a lot to do with going fishing.

I guess you could say that because I enjoyed going fishing so much with my Nana and Granddaddy in Oregon Inlet, all of those stories Mr. Wellons taught us about Jesus going fishing with his disciples really had an impact on me.

Like the one when Jesus is having church down at a place where every pastor in land-locked Oklahoma dreams of having some church, right on the beach. The congregation gathered that day is so large (the dream of every pastor), they keep “pressing in on him to hear the word of God,” almost pushing Jesus into the water.

Jesus sees two boats belonging to some fishermen who are out washing their nets. He climbs into one of the boats belonging to a fella named Simon and asks him to put it out a little way from the shore so he could teach the crowds on the beach from the boat, setting up a little pulpit on the water.

After the benediction is pronounced and church is over, Jesus says to Simon, “Let’s move the boat to some deeper waters and go fishing.” And this is when, for Simon and all of us, that church really begins.

Simon says, “Jesus, we’ve been fishing all night long and haven’t caught a thing. But, if you say so, I’ll cast my net one more time.”

It is then that Luke tells us that they catch so many fish that they had to call in re-enforcements and a second boat. The nets begin to break. Filled with so many fish, both boats begin to sink.

Now, notice Simon’s reaction to this glorious catch: “Praise God from whom all blessings flow for this miraculous catch of fish!”

Nope, not even close.

Scared to death, Simon says the almost unthinkable: “Go away from me Lord!”

Then, as it usually is with the stories of Jesus, we learn there is much more going on here than a few folks going fishing. This is really not a story about catching fish. It is a story about catching people. It is a story about bringing new people aboard. It is a story about the main thing.

And, like Simon, it is this main thing about being church that scares us to death.

Growing up in Northeastern North Carolina, I quickly learned that there are basically two types of fishermen.[i] First, there’s the fisherman who really doesn’t care if he catches anything at all. He’s perfectly content sitting in his boat with a line in the water. He couldn’t care less if he gets a nibble all day long. Enjoying the sunshine, taking in the salt air, brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes, he’s so comfortable, he is so at peace, so at home, he might even doze off and take a little nap. He’s just happy to be in the boat. He’s got a bag lunch, some snacks and a few cold beverages, and a bumper sticker on his truck that reads: “A bad day fishing is better than a good day at work.”

And besides, if he did catch anything, which by the way would be by sheer accident or dumb luck since he’s not paying any attention whatsoever to his pole, that would just mean for some work for him to do when he got back to shore. And one thing that fishing is not supposed to be is work!  At the end of the day, these fishermen reel in their line to discover that their bait is long gone. As my Granddaddy used to say, the poor souls were out there “fishing on credit.”

I am afraid this is the problem with many of us in the church today. We’re perfectly content just to have one line in the water, not really caring if we ever bring anyone else aboard. Because bringing aboard others always involves work. It involves sacrifice. Because you know about others? They are just so “other.”

So, the main thing about our faith is reduced to making sure that everyone who is already in the boat is happy, peaceful, and comfortable. If we catch something, that’s well and good. But if we don’t catch anything, well, that might even be better.

Then, there’s the fishermen who are really intentional about catching fish. Nana and Granddaddy were definitely of this type.

On the water with Nana and Granddaddy, I didn’t know whether to call what we were doing out there “fishing” or “moving.” Because oftentimes, as soon as I could get some bait on my hooks and drop it in the water, I’d hear Granddaddy say, “Alright, let’s reel ‘em in. We’re going to this place over there where the fish are more hungry.” I remember spending as much time watching the bait and tackle on the end of my line fly in the wind as we moved from place to place as I did watching it in the water. But guess what? With Nana and Granddaddy, we moved a lot, but we always caught a lot of fish!

Mr. Wellons also taught me a little phrase that continues to inform my ministry today. I remember him saying it every time I would go to his house. Which we would almost always do around this time of the year to see their Christmas tree. Mr. Wellons would proudly call my parents to let them know that he and Mrs. Wellons were one of the first in Shawboro to get their Christmas tree up, and we would head on over. Every time before we left, Mr. Wellons would always say the same thing: “Come back when you can’t stay so long!”

To be the church that God is calling us to be, we have to be a people on the move. The danger with many churches, is that we can get in a rut of staying too long in some comfortable and contented place, like, let’s say, 1955.

In the 1950’s, we as the church grew accustomed to people coming to us. We didn’t have to move. For variety of social and cultural reasons, all churches had to do to attract a big crowd was to open their doors and turn on the lights. There was a great church construction boom in the 1950’s, as the prevailing church growth mentality was “if you build it, they will come.” And people came. Some came because they had nowhere else to go. Most people stayed home on the weekends. Going to church and to Grandmama’s house afterwards for chicken pot pie and cornbread was the highlight of their weekend, if not their entire week.

However, here in the 21st century, hardly anyone stays home. People are constantly on the move, on the go. So, in order to share the good news of Jesus with others today, we have to get up and intentionally be on the move. We have to constantly reel in our lines to go to meet people exactly where they are, especially in those deep, dark places where people are hungry for love and starving for grace; where they are thirsting for liberty, justice and equality. And when we meet them where they are, we need to seriously meet them where they are, not where we may want them to be.

The problem is that too many churches today are sitting back, half asleep, with one pole in the water. They are not moving, not going out. They not only could not care less if anyone comes to them. But if by sheer accident or dumb luck someone new does happen to come aboard, churches expect them to come aboard in a manner that measures up to their own expectations. That is, they expect people to come aboard who look like them, behave like them, and believe like them. Many churches claim their doors are opened for all; however, they really do not mean “all.”

I will never forget that Nana used to go fishing with this special pocketbook. It was leather. And she must have lined with plastic. Nana always went fishing with this pocketbook, because when Nana was about the business of catching flounder, Nana did not discriminate. What I mean by this is that Nana very graciously welcomed all flounders aboard the boat, even if they did not measure up to the expectations of the North Carolina Wildlife Commission.

I remember measuring a flounder: “Ah man! This flounder is a half inch too short, I guess I need to throw him back.”

“Oh, you will do no such thing!” Nana would say with her English accent and a savvy British giggle. “He’s ‘pocket-book size!’”

Last week, I called to share this story with mama, to which she responded: “Jarrett, you better not tell that story!”

But as I told my Oklahoma congregation last week, “If following Jesus does not get you into some trouble, you’re probably are not doing right.”

The reality is that as a pastor, I am constantly getting into trouble. And what’s crazy is that I get into the most trouble when I preach sermons on unconditional love. People in my congregations have become livid when I preach against hate and discrimination and for loving and including people who do not measure up to our cultural, societal, or religious expectations.

I once heard someone say that he was downright ashamed to be a member of his church, because it was becoming a church for “those people.”

Here’s the thing, this person he truly believes that the main thing that the church is about is making sure that everyone who is already in the boat is contented, comfortable and happy. He does not have a clue that the main thing is actually about bringing others aboard without discrimination and leading them to make the life-giving, world-changing confession that “Jesus is Lord.”

And God help us when the church embarrassed to stand up to our friends and family and shout with the Apostle Paul: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation!”  What’s the rest of that verse? “For everyone…Jew and Gentile. (Romans 1:16). Everyone.

I am afraid that there are people in every church who remind me of fearful ol’ Simon, who upon looking at all those different fish in the boat, responded to Jesus with those unthinkable words: “Lord, go away from me.”

And the sad truth is: when a church begins discriminating, denigrating, and alienating others, when a church starts running away others because they are so “other,” then I believe that church also runs the Spirit of Jesus away, as it ceases being the church. It ceases being the body of the Christ who loved all, welcomed all, and died for all, and it becomes the worst kind of club.

As the church, as the body of Christ in this world, the main thing is to make sure that we are only excluding those whom Jesus excluded, and that is no one, even if it gets us into some trouble.

Before Jesus left this earth, I believe his final words were to remind us that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing, how to be a church where the Lord is never sent away, but always present.

In Matthew 28 we read what we call the Great Commission: “And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go (be on the move) therefore and make disciples of all nations, (All. Without discrimination.) baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age’” (Matthew 28:18-20).

Late Disciples of Christ pastor Fred Craddock loved to tell the story of a local church that functioned more like a club. They failed to understand that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. Although their sign out front read, “A church that serves all people,” when all people would show up to be served, the grumbling became so intense that it continually drove the newcomers away.

“Would you look at how long his hair is? Do you see all of those piercings! Oh my word, how those children are dressed! He sure is odd. She’s certainly strange. Don’t tell me we are now going to be a church for those people!”

About ten years went by. When, one day, Craddock was driving down the road where that church was located when he saw that the building that once housed that church had been converted into a restaurant.

Curious, he stopped and went inside. In the place where they used to be pews, there were now tables and chairs. The choir loft and baptistery was now the kitchen. And the area which once contained the pulpit and communion table now had an all-you-can-eat salad bar. And the restaurant was full of patrons—every age, color and creed.

Upon seeing the sad, but very intriguing transformation, Craddock thought to himself, “At last, God finally got that church to serve all people.”

I thank God today that all I ever need to know about how to lead a congregation to be the church, I learned not in the hallowed halls of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, but right here in the Providence Baptist Church of Shawboro and in a boat on the waters of Oregon Inlet.

Well, Providence, it has been 190 great years, but the question before us today is: “Do we want this church to still be sharing the good news of the gospel, still making disciples who will love all people, still baptizing people in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit 190 years from today?”

If we do, we must never forget, and teach our children and their children to never forget, that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.

[i] I heard my friend Rev. Jesse Jackson allude to these “2 types of fishermen” at the Oklahoma Disciples of Christ Regional Men’s Retreat at Camp Christian, Guthrie, Oklahoma, 2016.