Tag: freedom

When Freedom Is Fatigued

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

Galatians 6:1-16

As our country’s freedom is celebrated this weekend, I believe we’re called as people of faith to remember the painful truth of our history and to acknowledge that freedom has never been free. It has been and must continually be fought for.

Our remembering is especially important as history itself is under attack with a dangerous push to whitewash the truth.

Books are being banned, libraries are being closed, and words like “slavery,” “racism,” and “reconstruction” are being scrubbed from school curriculums like they never happened. And just last month, we saw the Juneteenth holiday denigrated by those in power complaining about Americans getting “too many days off.”

They want us to forget the truth and just move on, because if we forget the wounds, we might lose the urgency to heal them. And if we forget the cruelty, the brutality, and the inhumanity, they can more easily repeat it.

So today, we gather to remember the truth, and we do so in the name of Jesus, who proclaimed that it is the truth that sets us free (John 8:32).

Long before 1776, sovereign nations like the Monacans who lived on this land in harmony with the earth, had their lands stolen, and treaties were broken by the same men who would declare liberty and justice for all.

In 1776, while white men signed the Declaration of Independence,
Black people remained in chains, counted as property, not people.
And the pen that wrote “all men are created equal” didn’t write for women, the poor, and the indigenous.

Since then, the story of America has been a story of contradiction:
of beautiful promises and brutal practices; of high ideals and hard-hearted policies. And true liberty and justice for all has always been a struggle.

· It was a struggle when Harriet Tubman followed the North Star through the night leading herself and others out of slavery.

· It was a struggle when Frederick Douglass stood in pulpits and pointed out the hypocrisy of a slaveholding church.

· It was a struggle when Sojourner Truth asked, “Ain’t I a woman?”

· It was a struggle when immigrants crossed deserts and oceans to chase a dream—only to be met with discrimination, quotas, and cruelty.

· It was a struggle when laborers organized for a living wage.

· A struggle when LGBTQIA siblings stood at Stonewall and said, “No more.”

· A struggle when King, Lewis, Williams and others marched across Edmund Pettus Bridge on the day remembered as Bloody Sunday.

· A struggle when Cesar Chavez and farmworkers fasted for dignity in fields that fed the nation.

The truth is that freedom has never rolled in on the wheels of inevitability. As Dr. King said, it comes by struggle and sweat, by movement and by sacrifice.

And that’s why Paul’s words to the Galatians are so prophetically powerful today:

“Let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up.”

How appropriate are these words today, as those committed to the freedom of all people are, quite frankly, worn out.

We’re tired of begging for justice for the poor and the marginalized.

-Tired of the lies, the hate, the cruelty.

-Tired explaining why it is unfair to call poor people “lazy” and just plain mean to call them “parasites.”
-Tired of explaining why the dignity of LGBTQ persons is not up for debate.

-Tired of explaining why science is real, women’s rights are human rights and Black lives matter.
-Tired of sowing seeds of peace in a land still addicted to violence.

And this weekend Paul has a message for us:

Keep going. Keep working. Keep struggling. Keep sowing those seeds. Don’t grow weary. Because the harvest is coming.

So today, on this weekend of noise and nationalism, injustice and immorality, we gather to tell the truth:

-We’re tired of marching for justice while lawmakers pass bills to steal it.
-We’re tired of praying for peace in a nation that budgets more money for bombs than any nation on earth.
-We’re tired of hoping for change in a country that celebrates independence while restricting who gets to be free.

Today, freedom is fatigued, but the good news is, the struggle is not over. Because our faith is calling us to keep sowing, believing the harvest is coming.

And being exhausted today only affirms our faithfulness to the gospel, because gospel work is heavy work.

Jesus talked about the heaviness of the gospel when he criticized the Pharisees’ hypocrisy for playing lightweight religious games, tithing spices like mint, dill and cumin, while ignoring the weightier matters, the heavy matters of mercy and justice (Matthew 23).

For the gospel is not just about personal salvation. It’s heavier than that. It’s about communal transformation. We are called to confront sin, not just in the soul, but in systems. Because we are called to not just look after ourselves, but to carry each other’s burdens.

Verse 2 of our verse needs to be repeated today as many Americans who call themselves Christians and talk about bootstraps and personal responsibility seem to have forgotten it: “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way, we fulfill the law of Christ.” Bearing another’s burden, having empathy for others, says Paul, is the essence of what it means to be Christian.

And Christians today, not the Christians in name only, but Christians who fulfill this law of Christ, haven’t been this burdened in years.

And Paul’s message for us is to keep going, keep bearing those burdens, keep sowing those seeds, reminding us that we will one day reap what we sow.

Of course, we in America know all about reaping what we sow.

We elect leaders who sow division, declaring that they hate over half the people in the country, and then ask why we’re so polarized.

We sow billion-dollar weapons, and billion-dollar detention centers, and billion-dollar border walls, and then wonder why there’s no money for education and healthcare.

We sow exclusion and meanness, and do so in the name of God, and are shocked when young people leave the church.

So, we ask today:

What kind of country are we sowing?
What kind of church are we planting?
What kind of future are we tending?

If we sow silence when immigrants are deported, we will reap a nation with no conscience. If we sow tolerance for white supremacy, we will reap a church with no soul.

But if we sow solidarity, if we sow compassion, if we sow truth with love and justice, then we might just see the harvest.

In speaking of the harvest to come, how appropriate is Paul’s warning: “Do not be deceived. God is not mocked.”

Because another truth we must tell today, especially here in Lynchburg, Virginia, is naming the seed that’s continually mocking God and choking the harvest: the seed of White Christian Nationalism.

So many have been deceived into believing that this the Gospel of Jesus. When in fact, it’s the exact opposite. It’s the idolatry of race, the weaponizing of scripture, and the spiritual disguise of liberty that’s only for the privileged. It’s the heresy that says God loves America more than other nations, that straight whiteness is holiness, guns are sacred, and power matters more than people.

It wraps the cross with the flag, prays over injustice, and oppresses all the people Jesus would invite to a party. It anoints hate with holy water. It baptizes voter suppression, xenophobia, patriarchy, and LBGTQ bigotry and dares to call it “religious freedom.” But it’s far from freedom. It’s spiritual fascism dressed in red, white, and blue.

And Paul has a strong warning for those who have been deceived by such fascism: “God is not mocked.”

I believe that means that God is not fooled by the praise songs sung in a sanctuary of a church that turns its back on the oppressed.

God is not honored by churches that preach salvation but vote against food programs, health care, housing, and human dignity.

It’s not just bad theology—it’s deadly theology. And if we don’t name it and speak out against it, it will keep reaping violence, apathy, and war against the image of God in every non-white, non-straight, non-male, non-citizen body.

So, on this Fourth of July weekend Christians must say it clearly: We renounce the false gospel of white Christian nationalism. We will not grow weary naming it, resisting it, and working to plant something more beautiful in its place.

And Paul tells us exactly what we need to plant. Look at verse 15.

“For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything!”

Paul is talking about more pointless, lightweight religious stuff, saying it means absolutely nothing.

Worrying about how much foreskin one has is pointless when you couldn’t care less about the deeper wounds of others. Hanging the Ten Commandments on the Wall of a classroom is ridiculous when you refuse to feed the hungry children who sit in those classrooms.

America doesn’t need more lightweight, God-mocking religiosity. America needs something heavier. America needs a new creation.

A new creation where human dignity isn’t decided by documentation.
A new creation where education and health care are not luxuries.
A new creation where Black and Brown lives matter and queer kids live and thrive.

A new creation where people live like our ancient ancestors— in harmony with the earth, air, and sea.
A new creation where the church never bows to empire but always stands in solidarity with the least, the last, and the left out.

And Paul reminds us: We don’t get there by accident. And we don’t get there mocking God with religious hypocrisy. We get there by sowing it in faith and never giving up.

So, here’s the good news:

If you are exhausted today, it means you’ve been bearing a heavy burden fulfilling the law of Christ.
If you are tired today, it means you’ve been in the struggle sowing a new creation.
If you feel like giving up today, it only means you still care.

If your patriotism feels today more like fatigue than fireworks, you are on the right path.

And today, God has three words for you: Don’t. Give. Up.

Don’t give up on the child who needs your voice.
Don’t give up on the system that looks too broken to fix.
Don’t give up on the Church, even when it’s lost its moral compass.
Don’t give up on the movement. Don’t give up on the struggle.
Don’t give up on your calling, and never give up on love.

And know you don’t have to carry it all alone. Because we’re going to bear the burden together.

So, this weekend, while the nation celebrates its imperfect, incomplete freedom, we’ll keep sowing for the freedom that still hasn’t fully come.

And we will not give up. Because we know the harvest is coming.
And God will not let our labor be in vain.

So go, worn out but willing. March on, wounded but not defeated, stunned but not silent. Sow seeds of justice with trembling hands and tired feet.
And trust that the God who began a good work in us will one day bring home the harvest.

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

O God of the long road and the tired feet,

You have seen every protest march, every underground meeting,

every whispered prayer beneath the weight of oppression.

You were with Harriet Tubman in the woods,

with the veterans of Selma on the bridge,

with the mothers crying at detention centers today.

This weekend, as a nation sings of liberty,

We are grieving, for we know the truth that not all are free.

We know freedom is more than fireworks and parades—

it is housing, it is healing, it is dignity, it is truth.

We grieve the cruelty of a nation that passes a bill soaked in injustice: that takes healthcare from the sick, food from the hungry, and dignity from the poor to fund tax breaks for the rich and concentration camps for immigrants.

We grieve, O God, for Texas Hill Country—where catastrophic floods struck on July 4 killing at least 51 people including many children, sweeping away cabins at a summer camp with 27 girls still missing.

May the families waiting in anguish feel your presence.

Give rescue workers strength, bring swift comfort,

and awaken in us a fierce call to care for our neighbors in every disaster.

We confess, God, that we sometimes grow tired of it all.

Tired of the suffering of this world. Tired of fighting the same battles.

Tired of speaking truth in ears that won’t hear.

Tired of watching laws be written that wound your people.

So, pour your Spirit upon us like a second wind.

Give us the courage to keep showing up—

to sow goodness, to bear burdens, to carry one another.

And give us joy that this labor is never in vain.

Make us co-creators of your new creation,

until the tired are lifted, the wounded are healed,

and the world becomes your Beloved Community. In the name of Jesus, our justice, and our rest. Amen.

 

Invitation to Communion

Jesus never promised an easy road, but he did promise a shared table.

At this table, the tired are welcomed, the wounded are fed, and no one carries the Gospel alone.

Here we remember that Christ’s body was broken not just for individuals,

but for communities—for the collective healing of the world.

If you are weary, if you are burdened,

if you are longing for a taste of real freedom—

come. All are welcome.

This table is for you.

 

Invitation to Give

Giving to this offering is not about guilt or obligation. It is about sowing.

And we reap what we sow.

When we sow into justice, we reap a more beloved world.

When we give with compassion, we build up the Body of Christ.

On this weekend when so much is spent on fireworks and celebration,

we invite you to invest in something eternal:

a love that serves, a truth that speaks, and a justice that marches.

Let us give, not out of surplus, but out of hope.

Not to keep the lights on, but to light the way.

Commissioning and Benediction

Go now, tired but unbroken.

Go now, weary but still willing.

Go now, and do not grow weary in doing what is right—

for the harvest is coming.

May the Spirit strengthen your hands.

May the Christ who bore our burdens walk beside you.

And may the God who is not mocked guide you into new creation.

Go in peace, go in power,

go in love—

and never give up.

Amen.

I Have Seen the Lord!

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

John 20:1-18 NRSV

It’s Easter, and all over the world preachers are feeling the pressure to preach the better-than-the-average sermon. All week they’ve been burdened to come up with something insightful, something profound, to say about this story of stories, preferably something their congregations have never heard before. Oh, the pressure!

Each week for a sermon, I write, on average, 1,800 words. This is the number of words that I, with my seasoned homiletical and ecclesial acuity, have deemed theologically and linguistically necessary to bequeath the congregation an appropriate word from the Lord. And on the Sundays I need to be better than average, like Easter, I am always tempted to go a little longer, like upward to 2,000 words or more.

Now, my wife Lori believes that I should be able to write a sermon, and she’d prefer I write a sermon, even for Easter, with much fewer words. But Lori hasn’t been to seminary, I tell myself.

That’s why, by the way, every now and again, I throw in seminary words like “ecclesial” and smart-sounding words like “bequeath”—to convince the congregation, and myself, that I know what I’m doing up here. And we preachers especially like to use big words on Easter!

However, as I prepared for today’s sermon, I came to realize that Lori may be right.  In fact, esteemed professor of homiletics Karoline Lewis, points out that the best Easter sermon ever delivered, and the sermon we desperately need to hear again today, was nowhere close to 1,800 words. It contained 5. Lewis says that the best Easter sermon ever delivered was proclaimed by Mary Magdalene on that first Easter morning: “I have seen the Lord!”[i]

That’s it. There’s your Easter sermon. “I have seen the Lord!” Now, let’s sing a hymn, have communion, and pass the peace!

Now, because I don’t want to be accused of being lazy on Easter, I will attempt to say a little more. But I tend agree with Rev. Lewis that, too often, our preaching, especially on Easter, is just “too much –too much explanation, too much justification, too much rationalization.” She says our preaching is too much expository and not enough experiential. It’s too much illustrational and not enough incarnational. She argues preaching needs to be less performance and more personal, more down-to-earth, more authentic.

That struck a chord with me this week, as I recently heard local colleague make the shocking assertion, that on some days, he has this sinking feeling that God is not in Lynchburg.

Now, that’s a dark statement coming from anyone, but coming from a pastor in this town, it’s especially chilling. Almost as chilling as it is ironic with the vast number of churches in our city.

Last year, one of my guilty pleasures in life was binging the dark TV drama series called “Preacher.” Lori didn’t care for it. I loved it. It’s a story based on a comic book hero, a Texas Preacher, who’s on a mission in Louisiana searching for God who’s gone missing. God just got tired of being God one day, vacated the throne, got on motorcycle, and headed to New Orleans to listen to some good jazz and have a good time. It’s a very dark and rather bloody story about the chaos that ensues when God forsakes and abandons the world. All hell literally breaks loose as vampires, fallen angels, demons, and the devil himself wreak havoc upon the earth.

And my colleague says this is what it can sometimes feel like serving as a pastor in Lynchburg, Virginia. He says he sometimes wants to cry out like Jesus from the cross, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken us?”

Maybe we have had days when we have wanted to do the same.

The lack of affordable housing, the number of people living with food insecurity, the plans to cut spending on public schools and social services, the ugliness on the city council—it can all seem like God has left the city limits.

Just last week, an owner of a new restaurant told me that he recently served dinner to a member of the city council who had the hateful audacity to advise him to refuse service to members of the LGBTQ community.

And then we have the number of people who claim to be Christians or even “Champions for Christ” who support ways that the exact opposite of the way of the inclusive, universal, unconditional love that Jesus taught, modeled, and embodied.

Looking at some parts of our city, we can easily identify with Jesus when he lamented what seemed like the absence of God in Jerusalem, crying: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!”

And you don’t even need to be religious to believe that God may have even fled the country—a nation where people can be snatched from their homes and disappeared to a gulag in El Salvador without any recourse. Bishop William Barber notes: “Like the lynching trees of the South and the crosses of Rome, these public acts of brutality are designed to inspire fear that compels the masses to comply. But we cannot comply.”[ii]

This is why on this Easter Sunday, we need to hear the personal, authentic, first-person, five-word sermon of Mary Magdalene: “I have seen the Lord!” We need a first-hand witness of the resurrection, not a third-person account, confession, or creed.

In these dark, seemingly God-forsaken days, we don’t need to hear the stale and old: “He was crucified, dead, and buried; the third day he rose from the dead…” or “Christ the Lord is risen; he is risen indeed.” That’s nice, that’s good, but these days, we need more.

We need a first-person, eye-witness testimony. We need to hear of a new and fresh encounter. We need somebody to stand up before us today and exclaim: “I have seen the Lord!”

As we demonstrated during our Maundy Thursday service, the good news is that we can easily point out all the places in Lynchburg where we have seen the Lord, where there is resurrection in the midst of ruin; the light of new life in the shadows of death; love, when all that seems visible is hate. There’s much goodness, generosity and compassion in the midst of all the meanness, selfishness and cruelty: Parkview Mission, Interfaith Outreach, Meals on Wheels, The Free Clinic…It would take much more 1,800 words to name all of the non-profits and organizations that are being the hands and feet of the Lord in this town.

 But proclaiming, “I have seen the Lord,” means even more than that.

“I have seen the Lord” means personally bearing witness to the resurrection. It means being a first-person, eyewitness, living testimony of Easter.

In the hateful darkness of a violent world that has rejected the way of Jesus and would crucify him all over again if it got the chance, “I have seen the Lord” means demonstrating that there is another way of being in the world— a loving, justice-seeking, non-violent way that embodies all that is life-giving. It means living and giving and loving and serving in such a way, that when others see you, watch you, listen to you, they say: “Wait one second. Did I just see the Lord?”

“I have seen the Lord” insists that the ways of love will always win over the ways of hate.

“I have seen the Lord” affirms that the way of peace will always overcome the way of violence.

“I have seen the Lord” confirms that the truth of kindness, mercy and decency will always be louder than the con of fear, confusion, and chaos.

“I have seen the Lord” asserts that the voices of compassion will always be heard over the clamor of cruelty and retaliation.”

“I have seen the Lord” is what Gandhi proclaimed when he shared a vision of a world where all of creation and every living creature is revered and respected, thriving in peace and harmony, when all most can see is ecological devastation, violence, war, oppression, injustice, colonialism, and imperialism.

“I have seen the Lord” were the exact words of Martin Luther King Jr. when he preached on the day before his assassination: “I have seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”

“I have seen the Lord” is a proclamation that neither death by starvation in India, nor death by a bullet in Memphis, nor death on a cross in Jerusalem, can prevent love from winning and justice from coming.

Mary’s proclamation “I have seen the Lord” proclaims not only that a single stone was rolled away 2,000 years ago, but countless stones are still being rolled away today, all the stones that are used to prevent new life from rising: racist stones blocking paths to citizenship; bigoted stones blocking the doors of closets; corrupt stones blocking the power of free speech and due process; greedy stones blocking care for the environment; deceptive stones blocking the truth of science and history; and violent stones blocking any possibility of new life, justice, and peace.

“I have seen the Lord” is the justice those are demanding on the behalf of Abrego Garcia and every person deported unjustly. It’s the defiance of Harvard University, and the cry of all protesting the rise of fascism.

“I have seen the Lord,” when we speak it into our own lives, become words that have the power to roll back all the stones that confine and constrain the possibility that liberty and justice, dignity and respect can be for all people.

But “I have seen the Lord” is so counter-cultural, so counter-intuitive, often defying what we see with our own eyes, that it can be difficult to speak it. Especially to speak it personally, authentically in the first-person, to speak it with faith and conviction. It’s much easier to walk out of this service this morning and recite a third-person creed, “Christ the Lord is risen. He is risen indeed” than it is to honestly say in the first-person, “I have seen the Lord!”

Perhaps, like anything difficult, we need to practice it, and practice it daily.

So, in what places do you need practice it today? In front of what tomb do you need proclaim resurrection today?

What stone in your life needs to be removed today so you can be free?

What’s preventing you today from experiencing the joy of new life? What is blocking you today from enjoying peace, possessing hope, and knowing love?

On this Easter morning, when we walk out of this church building, where’s the first place we need to go to proclaim: “I have seen the Lord!”

Who do we know that may be unable to say it today, but needs to hear it, because they have been hiding in the tombs too long?

Today, we thank God for Mary Magdalene, the preacher of the best Easter sermon ever proclaimed, the good news we all need to hear today: “I have seen the Lord!”

[i] Sermon inspired by the thoughts of Rev. Dr. Karoline Lewis shared in an article entitled: True Resurrection, March 20, 2016

[ii] From The Power of a Moral Opposition: A Holy Saturday Reflection, April 19, 2025.

When Jesus Falls Out of Favor (and nearly off a cliff!)

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year C1 Comment

Luke 4:14-30 NRSV

Once upon a time, in a land far away, but not so different from our own, excitement was in the air as folks began gathering in the narthex, sipping their coffee. Everyone was looking forward to the sermon. Because today, they had a special guest preacher!

Many were just glad to have a break from listening to their pastor who they’ve had to now put up with for a year and a half. But some were really looking forward to hearing one of their own, someone who had moved away, made a name for himself, and made them proud. He had come back home for a visit and had been asked by the Elders to fill the pulpit.

No one paid attention as the announcements were being made. In the pews, heads moved and necks stretched, as everyone was trying to catch a glimpse of their hometown pride and joy.

After the Children’s Moment and the Pastoral Prayer, the young man stood up in the pulpit.

“Look! There he is!”

“My, hasn’t he grown!”

“He looks just like one of us, with his dark eyes and complexion.”

The worship leader handed him a scroll. He unrolled it and began reading words from the prophet Isaiah:

‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

   because he has anointed me

     to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

   and recovery of sight to the blind,

     to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.’

He rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the worship leader, and sat down. All were smiling as he had just read one of their favorite scripture passages.

It is then, that he stood back up and dropped the mic by declaring: ‘Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing!’

Countless amens could be heard throughout the sanctuary. One congregant shouted: “Hallelujah!” Another exclaimed, “Praise Jesus!” Another said, “I wished he was our full-time pastor!”

Everyone was pleased as they could be! Because the scripture he read was being fulfilled for them. Good news for the poor meant good news for them, because they didn’t consider themselves to be among the rich oligarchs that were in power.

And because they were living in an occupied territory, release to the captives, meant liberation for them!

Because they had lost hope and had a difficult time seeing anyway forward, recovery of sight to the blind meant recovery of hope for them!

And because they felt oppressed by the Romans, freedom for the oppressed meant freedom for them!

So, amen, brother! Preach it!

They could not have been more enthusiastic with their hometown hero! All throughout the sanctuary, you could hear proud comments like: “Why isn’t that Joseph’s oldest boy?”

After the choir sang the anthem, the young preacher stands back up, takes a sip of water, and begins the sermon: “There’s no doubt many of you will say: ‘Doctor, cure yourself.’ ‘Do here also here in your hometown the things that we heard you do Capernaum.’”

“That’s right!” someone shouted!

Another yells: “Charity begins at home!”

Someone else screams, “America First!” (I mean, “Israel First!”)

On the edge of their seats, their ears are itching to hear what their hometown boy had to say next!

It is then he says something like: “You know that no prophet is accepted in his hometown

Someone cupped their hands to their mouth and shouted: “We’ll always accept you Jesus!”

Another yelled: “That’s right! You are one of us!”

Still another shouted: “We’re with you all the way!”

He takes another sip of water and then begins to proclaim that Isaiah’s prophetic vision of good news, liberation, recovery of sight, and freedom is not for them only, or even for them first. It is for everyone, maybe even especially for those who need it the most, folks that may not be from around here

In the congregation, shoulders tense, and heads turn. More comments could be heard, but the enthusiastic tone becomes disconcerting: “Wait a minute! I know he’s not talking about diversity, equity, and inclusion, is he?”

Jesus, though, is undaunted by the sudden aggravation in the air, because he wasn’t there to win a popularity contest or to scratch itching ears. He’s  there to tell the truth, even if that truth is unsettling, because Jesus knows that the truth of God’s inclusive and equitable love, as offensive as it may be, is the only way to create a more peaceful and just world.

Jesus then reminded the congregation why the prophets are never popular in their hometown by referring to two stories, one about the prophet Elijah and one about the prophet Elisha.

“You remember Elijah, don’t you? And the story of those three and half years it hardly rained a drop, causing a severe famine throughout the region? Now there were countless widows living in Israel during that time who were starving to death. But God didn’t send the prophet Elijah to help any widows in Israel. No, instead, God sent the prophet to save a widow in Lebanon.”

Apart from a few gasps, the congregation fell so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“And you remember the prophet, Elisha? There were many lepers suffering in Israel, but instead sending the prophet to heal those in Israel of their disease, God sent Elisha to heal a leper in Syria.”

The sanctuary exploded! People rose to their feet. Some began shaking their fists in the air.

How dare he say that the blessings of God extend beyond our borders, to other cultures and ethnicities!

The audacity he has to say that God’s mercy, justice, and freedom are not just those of us who have the proper papers or the right genes!

And how dare he infer that God may even favor someone from Lebanon or from Syria, over us!

The unmitigated gall he has to say that this scripture is fulfilled in our hearing, but not fulfilled for us!

Overcome with rage, the congregation turns on Jesus.

Some demand an apology.

Others call his words “ungracious,” his tone “nasty.” And his service “boring.”

One accused him of being a left-wing lunatic who was bringing woke politics into the synagogue!

Someone else cried: “Deport him!” Another shouted: “Send him to Guantanamo Bay!”

They become so angry that before Jesus is able to finish the sermon, they chase him out of the sanctuary and run him clear out of town right to the edge of a cliff. But he doesn’t fall off the cliff. He somehow sneaks through the crown and escapes.

How quickly had Jesus fallen out of favor and nearly off a cliff!

But that’s the world in which we live—a world where empathy is considered a sin. Because empathy involves loving our neighbor—not the just ones who live next door, but the ones who live in Lebanon and Syria, in Mexico, Gaza, Columbia, Cuba, and Venezuela—as much as we love ourselves.

The word “freedom” has always been a threatening word when it is applied to a group people that another group of people deem “other” or “less.”

 “Diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion” have always been offensive words to those who want good things for themselves only, or at least, for themselves first. Equality can feel like oppression to those accustomed to privilege. And in our nation, that means that the angry mobs have historically been white people.

It was only a little over 60 years ago, a time that those currenlty in power are trying to take us back to, empathetic people from all over the United States traveled to the South to take a stand for the civil rights of all people. Some were called Freedom Riders, as they rode buses throughout the South to nonviolently resist unjust Jim Crow laws.

Like the time Jesus preached freedom for the other in the synagogue, an angry mob formed. And on Mother’s Day in 1961, in Anniston, Alabama, 50 white men, many of them religious, attacked a Greyhound bus carrying black and white Freedom Riders with pipes, chains, and bats. They smashed windows, slashed tires, and beat the sides of the bus to terrorize the Freedom Riders who were inside.

Once the attack subsided, with the Freedom Riders still on board, the police pretended to escort the damaged bus to safety, but instead they abandoned it just outside the Anniston city limits.

Another armed mob surrounded the bus and began breaking more windows. The Freedom Riders refused to exit the bus and received no aid from two highway patrolmen who were watching nearby. When a member of the mob tossed a firebomb through a broken bus window, others in the mob attempted to trap the passengers inside by barricading the doors of the bus.

The mob fled when they feared the fuel tank was about to explode. Somehow, the Riders were able to escape the ensuing flames, only to be attacked and beaten as they exited the burning bus.[i]

Kindness, grace, and compassion have always made people wickedly angry when it is applied to outsiders. Some people have always called empathy a “sin,” because empathy involves caring for someone other than yourself, or other than “your” people. Thus, the powers of wickedness have always tried to trump the power of love. Darkness has always sought to overcome light.

The good news is that darkness is no match for even a little bit of light, and love always wins. The good news is that Jesus did not fall off that cliff, and through the resurrected body of Christ, he is still alive and preaching in our world today.

I know that it may feel like we are standing at the edge of a great cliff. Our feet may be slipping as the rocks move under our feet. Some of us have slipped, and our feet are dangling over the edge. We’re barely hanging on. But we are not falling.

Somehow, someway, as Jesus escaped those angry worshippers who chased him to an edge of a cliff outside the city limits of Nazareth, and as the Freedom Riders escaped that bus set on fire outside the city limits of Anniston, Alabama, we too have escaped.

 We are still here. Jesus and his followers may have fallen out of favor with the powers-that-be, but we have not fallen off the cliff!

And despite the opposition in our nation today, the intimidation in our state today, and the hostility in our city today, we are still proclaiming good news today, not just for ourselves, but for all people.

We are still committed as ever to fulfilling the promises of God for black and brown people—

Proclaiming God’s liberation for non-binary and transgendered people—

Proclaiming God’s freedom for undocumented people, asylum seekers, refugees, migrants, and victims of war.

And proclaiming a hopeful vision of God’s peace and justice—

God’s empathetic vision of mercy and compassion—God’s prophetic vision of diversity, equity, and inclusion—shining our lights so all can see it!

The dark winds of wickedness are howling, but our candles are still burning!

On the edge of a cliff, we may feel we are barely hanging on today. We may have fallen out of favor. But we are not falling off! Say it with me: We are not falling off! Amen.

[i] https://calendar.eji.org/racial-injustice/may/14

Free to Follow Jesus

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

Mark 6:6-13 NRSV

What a surreal Fourth of July this has been following the Supreme Court’s decision that Presidents who break our laws are immune to prosecution, that a president with a flawed character can do whatever they want to do and get away with it, if it is deemed an official act.

As outrageous as it is, I am afraid that this is how many in our country have always defined the concept of freedom. It is a type of freedom that serves the privileged and the powerful, as it figuratively, and sometimes literally, places shackles on all others. It is a type of freedom that is for some of the people and never for all the of the people.

Freedom (life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness) is part of our identity as a nation, a sacred concept for which blood has been shed. Yet, as history proves, it is a concept that is far from perfect.

History reveals a national economy built on the genocide of native people, slavery, Jim Crow laws, a denial of voting rights for women, and LGBTQ oppression.

For some with privilege and power today, freedom means the right to deny workers a living wage and the right to refuse service to people they find objectionable. They use the iconic Revolutionary War motto “Don’t Tread on Me” to express their disdain for their taxes being used to feed impoverished children at school or to provide SNAP benefits to the parents of those children.

For some, religious liberty means the right to hurt their neighbors instead of the freedom to love them. It is all about self-interest with no regard for others, especially minorities. Although they claim to be Christian, their beliefs and actions are most accurately described as “anti-Christ.”

The good news is (and oh how we need some good news today) I know many people who have committed themselves to follow the way of love that Christ taught and embodied—a powerful, liberating way of love that lets freedom ring for all.

I am looking at a whole room of people who believe with the Apostle Paul that we are called to freedom, not to indulge in our selfish impulses, but to serve one another in love, people who believe they are free, not only to love themselves, but to love their neighbors as themselves.

I am looking at a room full of people who are concerned with freedom for others as much as they are concerned with freedom for themselves, who believe freedom brings both the opportunity and the responsibility to serve and to stand for others, not simply to amass personal rights and privileges at the expense of others.[i]

I see people who have chosen to use their freedom to follow Jesus as disciples, people who are fulfilling what it truly means to be the church in an oppressive world, unlike some in the church today who are doing the exact opposite, actually supporting systems of oppression.

When I think about the purpose of the church, how the church should serve in today’s world, I am constantly drawn to Mark 6 and this account of Jesus sending the disciples into the world for the very first time to be disciples. So much so, it was the source of inspiration for our new expression of church in New Orleans that Lori and I were a part of.

In verse 6 we read:

6aAnd he was amazed at their unbelief. 

I wonder if Jesus would be amazed at the unbelief of some in the church today. Having been a part of the church my entire life, I know I am often amazed when I consider how many in the church do not seem to believe that we are called to live, love and serve in the selfless, sacrificial way of Jesus. Instead, they have accepted an individualistic religion where they “accept Jesus,” “receive Jesus,” “study Jesus,” and “worship Jesus”; not actually “follow Jesus.”

I wonder if Jesus is amazed by the number of people who believe the Kingdom of God is just some place we go to after we die, instead of something we are supposed to work at, to give of ourselves to, to pour ourselves out for, to sacrifice to create right here on earth. I wonder if Jesus is amazed every time people pray: “Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven,” and then don’t do a thing to make it happen!

6bThen he went about among the villages teaching.

Jesus was among the people, all the people, because Jesus was for all the people. Jesus went village to village teaching everyone that the most important thing we can do in this world is to love our neighbors as ourselves, and here in this text, we read that he expects his disciples to do the very same thing.

7He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. 

To me, one of the most disturbing political signs that I see in some yards today are the ones that say: “Jesus 2024 – Our Only Hope.” Not only do these signs support a dangerous Christian Nationalism making our Jewish, Muslim, and Hindu neighbors feel like second-class citizens, but they support an individualism that is opposed to the mission of Jesus as Jesus never intended to be on a mission to transform and save the world by himself. In what could be described as a call to democracy, Jesus called and gave authority and power to people to join him on that mission. He sent them out doing the very things that he did, some very big things like: challenging the unclean spirits: the spirits of war, selfishness, greed, poverty, all kinds of bigotry, and any type of oppression.

8He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 

Freedom for many means the freedom to acquire and accumulate as much wealth as possible without any sense of responsibility to share any of that wealth. Jesus, however, calls people to live simply so they are able to give generously.

10He said to them, ‘Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.’ 

 Jesus warns that if we teach others the importance of using our freedom to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, we will not be received by everyone. There will always be those who will choose to live solely for themselves instead of for others. But we should never let that discourage or stop us. We should peacefully but persistently keep moving forward, keep working, and keep doing what we have been called to do.

12So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 

Disciples go out and proclaim that all should repent of their selfish, self-centered, self-preserving ways and embrace a way of freedom that is far from individualistic, but a way of freedom that is profoundly connected with the well-being of everyone.

13They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

We are called to stand up and speak out against the evil forces in our world. We are called to restore and to heal. We are called to be a courageous, peace-making, justice-creating, evil-exorcising, hope-giving movement for wholeness in our fragmented world!

And today, perhaps more than ever, I am grateful that you with so many others are offering this world hope by answering this call, as we journey towards a more perfect union, realizing the truth that all people are created equal and freedom is for all.

In his Fourth of July email, prophetic preacher John Pavlovitz wrote the following:

It is highly probable that it will get much worse before it gets better. And yet, no matter how dire things become, we still have our hands and our voices and our gifts and resources and platforms and privilege and lives to leverage to make it less dire for someone.

I’m not writing to tell you how bad things are…I’m [writing] to remind you how good you are.

This is not about anyone else’s inhumanity. It’s about your humanity.

It’s not about one group of people’s cruelty. It’s about your empathy…

In some ways it doesn’t matter who is in the seats of power.

It doesn’t matter how horrible the legislation that gets passed.

It doesn’t matter how much the evangelical church rejects Jesus and his teachings.

It doesn’t matter how compromised the courts are.

It doesn’t matter how predatory the preachers or the politicians become.

That is almost irrelevant.

Their violence is not the point.

Your capacity for love is the point.

And that love is the only plan.

Pavlovitz continues:

So yes, we will grieve and lament the unthinkable news this week. We will feel the sickness on this holiday [celebrating] a freedom that feels as though it’s evaporating—and then, we will get on to the work of fighting like hell to make sure that it doesn’t. Be greatly encouraged.

Amen.

[i] Adapted from article by Rev. Dr. Brett Opalinski, Emory University Candler School of Theology

Free to Be Free

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

4th of July

(Sermon delivered to First Christian Church, Farmville, NC, on June 30, 2013)

Galatians 5:1, 12-25  and Luke 9:51-62 NRSV

For freedom Christ has set us free—and all God’s people here in America on this Sunday before the July 4th proudly and fervently say: “Amen!”

But what exactly does that mean?

I know the type of freedom that most Americans cherish, as I am one of them. We call it the freedom of opportunity.  Which is usually translated in our consumerist society:  the freedom to attain, to acquire, to amass and to accumulate as much as we possibly can.

We are free to go after the American dream. Buy a big house in the suburbs or in a small town, purchase two cars and a dog and raise our children by providing them with the latest smart phones and the trendiest clothes.

And we are free to pursue happiness. To be the people we want to be and to go to the places we want to go. We are free to fulfill our every desire and to meet our every need. We are free to get as much as we can out of this life and this world.

And we American Christians love to evoke Jesus to help us. We look to Jesus as our ticket to attaining the American dream.

In other words, Jesus, for many Americans, becomes just another commodity that we can get, so we can get some more.

I have seen Christian billboards, bumper stickers and t-shirts take the once popular slogan of the American Dairy Association “Got Milk?” and change it to “Got Jesus?”

Do you seek happiness? Want to fulfill your desires, meet your needs? Need help paying the mortgage? Need to build a stronger family? Then, just get you some Jesus!

Yes, God bless America that we are free to worship and get Jesus so Jesus can help us get some more!

The Samaritans had received word from the disciples that Jesus was on the way to visit their village. Can you imagine hearing such an announcement? Jesus is coming to town! Jesus is coming to Farmville! Jesus is coming to help us achieve the American dream, help us with the mortgage, help us strengthen our families, help us go to the places that we want to go and to be the people that we want to be!  Can you imagine the grand reception, the huge welcome that would await Jesus?  No doubt there would be parades, cook-outs and a lot of fireworks to celebrate his arrival.

Let’s read how they celebrated such a grand event early in the first century. In verse 53 we read, “but they did not receive him”…what? Why on earth not?  Because his face was set toward Jerusalem.

His face was set toward Jerusalem. Toward the cross. Toward sacrifice. Toward self-denial. Toward self-giving. Toward pain and toward suffering.  And the Samaritans, of course, were not interested.

So, Jesus goes into another village. Surprisingly someone cries out, “Jesus, I will follow you wherever you go!”

Jesus, assuming the zealot really did not know what he was saying, asks, “Are you sure you really want to do that? Do your really mean that? Do you really want to go with me? Don’t you understand that foxes have holes and birds have nests but the son of man has no where to lay his head.”

So much for Jesus helping us with the American dream of that big home in the suburbs!

To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Let me first bury and mourn my father.” Jesus respond, “Let the dead bury the dead, as for you go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.”

So much for Jesus helping us to meet our needs.

Another said, “I will follow you, but let me first go back and tell my family good-bye.” To which Jesus responds: “Those who look back are not fit for the Kingdom of God.”

So much for Jesus coming to help us build a stronger family!

In other words, Jesus says:

If you want to follow me as my disciples in this world, then you must let go of the things to which the world assigns so much value. You must abandon those things with which the world seduces you into believing they can be the fulfillment of your most profound desires.

Jesus also puts it this way… to truly live, we must first die to self.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was executed in a Nazi concentration camp for helping Jews escape to Switzerland insightfully wrote, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die.”

And the Samaritans wanted none of that. No wonder that night in their village there were no fireworks.

That was not the message they wanted to hear. If Jesus’ face is set toward Jerusalem, then Jesus better get himself to Jerusalem, and we will stay right here.

I attended a church growth conference a few years ago where the speaker talked about the importance of making sure that church members “feel satisfied.”  In other words, if you want the church to grow, the job of your pastor is to make certain that you are happy.

You know, the speaker is absolutely right. Just ask the Samaritans. If Jesus came to the Samaritans with his face set toward the pursuit of happiness, I am sure the pews would have been packed. The problem is that this is not the purpose of the church.

Jesus does not call us to go to church to get happy. Jesus calls to be the church, to be the body of Christ in a broken and fragmented world, with its face set towards Jerusalem.

And Jesus is not just some commodity that we can get so we can get some more…more happiness, more contentment, more fulfillment.  Jesus does not want us to get him, Jesus wants to get us. As William Willimon puts it, Jesus does not want us to get him to meet our needs. Jesus wants to get us and rearrange our needs. He does not want us to get him to fulfill our every desire. He wants to get us and transform our every desire.

Jesus is not interested in helping us to be the people we want to be and to go to the places we want to go. Jesus wants us to be His people and go to the places that he wants to go. And his face is set toward Jerusalem.

As one of my favorite writers, Henri Nouwen has said, sometimes Jesus calls us to places we would rather not go.  Sometimes Christ calls us into “unknown, undesirable and painful places.”

The truth is, that when we come here on Sunday morning, instead of finding ourselves surrounded by a bunch of happy people satisfied and content, we probably should find ourselves in the midst of a people who are more than a little anxious, apprehensive, and nervous for we never know where this Christ is going to lead us next.

This weekend as we Americans celebrate our nation’s birthday, may each of us thank God for our country and the freedom our country affords us.  However, as a church that is not seeking to get Jesus, but continually be in the process of allowing Jesus to get us, to rearrange our needs, transform our desires, lead us toward Jerusalem, toward the cross, toward suffering, self-denial, self-giving, may we be mindful that with our freedom comes a radical call to truly free ourselves of some things that many Americans hold very dear.  May we mindful that we are free to be truly free.

While it is true that we are free acquire and accumulate, to accrue and to amass, to meet our every need and to fulfill our every desire, it is also true that we are free, to abandon and relinquish, to let go and to leave behind.  We are free to be free from all of the material trappings and selfish desires that prevent us from following Christ wherever he leads.  We are free, not to get Jesus to meet our needs and fulfill our desires, but we are free to allow Christ to get us to rearrange our needs and transform our desires.  We are free to not only get to give.

Bonhoeffer did not have to help Jews escape Nazi Germany and flee to Switzerland.  After all he was safe and sound in New York in the early 1940’s. He was free to stay in America and preach the gospel from the safety of a free church pulpit or to teach New Testament in the peace and freedom of a university.  Bonhoeffer could have lived the American dream. But the gospel he preached and the freedom that he was granted compelled Bonhoeffer to return to Germany and stand against Nazi aggression.

Before he was executed by the Germans, he wrote the following words.  They are words that the American Church needs to hear again and hear loudly… “Cheap grace is the preaching of….forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession…  Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ living and incarnate.

“Costly grace is…the gospel which must be sought again and again. The gift which must be asked for, the door at which one must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ.  It is costly because it costs us our lives. It is grace because it gives us the only true life.”

For freedom Christ has set us free—and all God’s people here in America on this Sunday before the July 4th proudly and fervently say: “Amen!”

Let us pray.

O God as we recommit ourselves this day to follow the Christ, give us your grace to let go, give up, and relinquish every desire, trait, and tendency that weighs us down or hinders our faithful work for you in the name of Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Commissioning and Benediction

We came here this morning to get a little bit of Jesus. To get him to help us meet our needs and fulfill our desires. Instead, Jesus came here and got us. Through Jesus, God the creator of all that is has spoken, saying, “I have some very important work to do in this world, and I am here to get you to help me.

Go now and do the work in this world to which you have been called.  You may have to leave friends and family behind.  You may have to give up some things that you hold very dear.  Even life itself.  But in so doing, you will gain the only true life. And may the love of God, the grace of Jesus Christ and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with us all. Amen.