Tag: grace

Disciples Are on the Side of Witches

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Luke 18:9-14

You know, it’s a strange thing to be called unholy for trying to love like Jesus. I believe I shared that time with you when I was called “a demon” in a resturant in Fort Smith, Arkansas.

This stranger who disapproved of the sexuality of the person with whom I just finished sharing a meal, approached me as I was leaving with a question: “You do know what the law says about her don’t you?” I said, “Arkansas law?” He said, “No, God’s law.”

I said, “Well, Jesus said that the greatest law is to love our neighbors as ourselves.”

He walked away, scribbled something on his receipt and handed it to the waiter who then showed it to me: ‘Beware, he’s a demon in disguise.’”

It would be interesting to know how many people drive by our church, see the Pride flag, and decide they already know who we are:

“That’s the liberal church.” “That’s the church that’ll let anybody in.” “That’s the church that doesn’t believe the Bible.”

And I smile. Because that’s exactly what they said about Jesus!

The truth is: if you’re going to follow the one who touched lepers, elevated the status of women, proclaimed that the differently sexual were born that way, welcomed tax collectors, and ate and drank with sinners, you’re bound to get called some names. You’ll be accused of going too far, being too soft, loving too much. And you’ll be demonized for it.

There are probably some in this town who suspect that what we disciples do inside these walls during this hour is akin to some kind of witchcraft. So, just in case they’ve tuned into our YouTube channel to check out what demonic spells this false prophet is brewin’ up, to see what kind of voodoo we do, on this Sunday before Halloween, I want to make what may sound like a shocking confession:

Disciples stand firmly on the side of witches.

Now that I have their attention, maybe they’ll stick around to hear this story that Jesus told.

Two men went to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee, religious, respected, and righteous. The other was a tax collector, despised, and distrusted, and demeaned.

The Pharisee stood tall and prayed proudly: “Thank God I’m not like other people—thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like that tax collector over there.”

Meanwhile, the tax collector stood far off, head bowed, hand to his chest, praying, “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

And Jesus said, “The tax collector went home justified, rather than the Pharisee.”

The Pharisee had the problem that many in the church still have today. The Pharisee defined his holiness by “those people” he put down. He could only feel righteous if someone else was condemned. And that’s exactly how all witch hunts begin, with a prayer that says, “Thank God I’m not like them.”

In 1692, this was the prayer that was whispered and shouted all over Salem, Massachusetts. Fear was in the air: fear of women who had some power, women who refused to be submissive and quiet; fear of the patriarchy losing control. Preachers thundered from their pulpits. Neighbors accused neighbors. Hysteria spread. And before it was over, 200 people were accused of witchcraft, 30 were convicted, and 19 were hanged, mostly women.

But the Salem Witch Trials were never about witches. It was about a religion poisoned by fear. It was about a faith so fragile, so shallow, that it needed scapegoats to survive. It was about a church that was so desperate to justify their own purity that it demonized and destroyed the children of God. The Puritans thought they were defending God’s honor, but they were really defending their own control.

The bad news is that this spirit didn’t die in 1692, as every generation has had its witch hunts. Every age has Pharisees who pray, “Thank God we’re not like them.”

We saw it on the ships carrying enslaved Africans in chains across the Atlantic, justified by a twisted theology that said dark-skinned bodies were less human.

We saw it in Nazi Germany, where millions of Jewish people were branded evil and exterminated in the name of “purity.”

We saw in the McCarthy hearings, when careers and lives were ruined because someone was accused of being “un-American.”

We saw it in the Jim Crow South, where people went to church on Sunday morning and attended a lynching in that evening.

We saw it after 9-11 when all Muslims were blamed for the sins of extremists.

And we see it today whenever our LGBTQ siblings are called “abominations,” when trans youth are targeted by hateful politics, when poor people are labeled “parasites,” when immigrants are demonized as “invaders,” and whenever women are made to feel inferior to men.

We see it when vanity is prioritized over humanity, as the powerful dismiss the hungry while they destroy the East Wing of the White House to build a golden ballroom.

Every witch hunt begins the same way: with fear dressed up as faith and cruelty justified as conviction. Pure evil, the worst evil in history has always been born when people believed that others were less than.

And if you dare speak out against such evil, the ones who demonize the witch will demonize you. But as Disciples, that’s what we have been called to do, because we follow the One who always exposed the evil spirit of fear for what it is.

When Jesus sat down with tax collectors, he was breaking the spell of self-righteousness. When he healed the lepers, he was undoing centuries of religious purity laws. When he talked with the Samaritan woman at the well, he was crossing every line of gender, race, and religion. When he liberated those the people believed to be possessed, he was calling out systemic oppression.

And for that, they said he was possessed. They labeled him a heretic. They called him a glutton, a drunkard, and “a friend of sinners”—all just another way of calling him a witch.

So yes, disciples are on the side of witches. We stand firmly on the side of the accused, the condemned, and the cast out. Because that’s where Jesus stands, and that where love always leads us.

The Radical Welcome we practice here at First Christian Church should never be mistaken for southern hospitality or polite piety. Our welcome is protest. It’s the refusal to let fear dictate who belongs and who doesn’t belong at God’s table. Every time we open our doors to someone the world has rejected, we’re breaking the spell of Salem all over again. Every time we affirm the dignity of someone who’s been told they are less than, we’re undoing the curse of dehumanization.

And that always makes some people uncomfortable. It made the Pharisees uncomfortable. It made the Puritans uncomfortable. And makes all those today whose faith has been hijacked by a spirit of fear uncomfortable.

But that’s okay. Because comfort has never been the goal of the gospel. Transformation is. The church’s mission has never been to police the gates of heaven but to tear down the walls that keep anyone from seeing how wide the gates really are.

That’s the Revolutionary love we have been called to practice. It’s a love that doesn’t just include but transforms. It’s a love that refuses to see anyone as “less than,” not even those who demonize us.

It was this Revolutionary love that propelled Jesus to non-violently pick up and carry a cross while praying for the forgiveness of those who were forcing him to carry it.

It’s what led Dr. King to face dogs and firehoses without surrendering to hate.

It’s what gave Fannie Lou Hamer the courage to keep singing freedom songs after she was beaten in a Mississippi jail.

It’s what led Desmond Tutu to preach forgiveness in a nation soaked in blood.

Revolutionary love is defiant. Revolutionary love stands up to evil and says, “You will not make me hate you.”

It stands up to even those in power whose hearts seem hardened, whose empathy seems long gone, and whose ambition has blinded them to mercy, and says, “I still believe in your humanity.”

That’s what it means to be a disciple of Jesus in a witch-hunting world. Not to join the crowd shouting, “Crucify him,” but to hang beside the condemned and whisper: “You are not alone. Look, I’m on your side. I will be with you, and you will be with me, forever.”

So, when people call us “that church,” the one with the flag, the one that welcomes everyone, the one that’s too political, too affirming, too much, I say, “praise God!”

Because that means we’re standing where Jesus stood. That means we’re loving in ways that make the stokers of fear and the sowers of division nervous. That means we’re living the kind of gospel that still turns the world upside down!

Yes, we could save ourselves from some ridicule if we took down our flag, but our calling is not to just to be saved. Our calling is to be faithful. Our calling is to follow Jesus by standing with those accused of being “too different” or “too much.”

Because disciples are not on the side of those who judge and condemn. We’re on the side of the witches. We’re on the side of the enslaved, the lynched, the silenced, the scapegoated, the outcast, and the crucified. We’re on the side of those who have been demonized by sick religion and dismissed by worldly power. And we stand there not out of pity, but in solidarity, and we know the God of mercy stands there too.

The kingdom Jesus preached is not built by purity or perfection. It’s built by mercy and mutuality. It’s built by people humble enough to pray, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner,” and brave enough to extend that same mercy to others. The world doesn’t need more temples filled with Pharisees. It needs more churches filled with recovering witch hunters who’ve laid down their sticks and stones to pick up some empathy and compassion.

The world doesn’t need more purity tests. It needs more people who understand that holiness is found in how we treat the most despised among us.

Because I’ve lived long enough to see the pattern. I know the history. It’s never the ones who love too much who do the evil in this world. It’s always the ones who forget that love is the whole point.

So, let the world accuse us of loving too much. Because that’s how we’ll know we’re getting close to the heart of Jesus. Let them call us names. That’s how we’ll know we’re walking in his way.

When we stand the side of the witches, on the side of the accused, the excluded, the erased, we know we’re on the side of the God who never stops expanding the circle.

So, let them drive by our church and call us “unholy” or “too much.”

Let them demonize us.

But we’re going to keep loving.
We’re going to keep welcoming.

We’re going to keep conjuring the Holy Ghost and following the way of Jesus.

That means we’ll never stop proclaiming the mercy that humbles the proud and lifts up the lowly.

Because we Disciples believe the Kingdom of God is coming near, and the radical welcome and revolutionary love of Jesus is leading the way.

Amen.

Time to Be Prodigally Prophetic

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

 

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 NRSV

One day, Jesus is confronted by some grumbling Scribes and Pharisees: “Jesus, why do we keep hearing these stories about you hanging out in some sketchy parts of town? We hear these rumors about you eating and drinking with those people, the kind of people everyone knows are sinners!”

 “And you claim to be a man of God!”

“Rabbi, if you are a Rabbi, let me tell you something. Our God is an awesome God who will punish not only the sinner, but the sinner’s children and grandchildren. God will strike you down with a lighten bolt, and if not that, send a cancer, a heart attack or maybe a stroke. And, Jesus, you better watch out, because if you get too many sinners in one place, too many sinners at one bar or pub, or in one city or in one nation, God might send a tornado or an earthquake, and take out everyone!”

When Jesus is confronted by these religious people with a bad and violent theology, he responds as he usually does—by telling a story. Here, he tells three stories—one about a lost sheep, another about a lost coin and another about a lost boy. The parable of the lost boy has been commonly referred to as the “Parable of the Prodigal Son” for some pretty good reasons.

Growing up in church, my home pastor would often use the dictionary when he came to a point like this in his sermon. I think he defined a word for us every Sunday!  He would say, “Now, Webster defines ‘prodigal’ as…”  In that spirit, but with a 21st century twist, allow me to do the same: Now, Google defines “prodigal” as…

  1. wastefully or recklessly extravagant
  2. giving or yielding profusely; lavish
  3. lavishly abundant; profuse
  4. a person who spends, or has spent, his or her money or substance with wasteful extravagance.

The youngest son had the gall to demand his inheritance so he could leave home.  Demanding his inheritance meant that he had come to this point in his life where he did not mind regarding his father as being dead and buried. Isn’t that nice?

Then the surprising part. The father just hands it over. Then, we are told that the boy ventures out into a wild and “distant country,” I guess like West Virginia, where he wasted every red cent whooping it up—thus, the designation “prodigal”— reckless, lavish, wasteful, extravagant.

When the boy ran out of money, there was a great famine in the land. That was when the prodigal son found a job feeding pigs, and things got so bad, the boy thought about eating and drinking with the pigs!

“Oh, of course there is a famine,” say the religious leaders with their bad and violent theology! “That is what we are trying to tell you!  A famine! That is brilliant!  Oooh. God is soooooo good. I bet that boy starves to death! Or at least gets a bad case of salmonella from eating with the pigs. And serves him right! A just punishment for a prodigal—one who had everything only to recklessly waste everything. Death from lack! Death from scarcity! What wonderful irony. How cool is God?”

 Jesus continues… “the boy decides to go back to the father and beg forgiveness…”

“Yeah, good luck with that!” the religious leaders howl, laughing at such a ridiculous scenario!

However, we know the rest of the story…

“And when he was “a long way off,” the father saw him and ran and embraced him. Think about this. How do you suppose this father saw him “a long way off?” Because the father had been waiting, looking down the road every day for the boy to return.

Some of my fondest childhood memories are sitting on the front porch with my brother and my sister, waiting and watching for Daddy to come home from work. We would position ourselves on the porch at just the right angle so if we squinted and strained hard enough, we could see through our dogwood trees and our neighbors’ crepe myrtles to get a glimpse of Daddy’s Green Ford LTD from a half a mile away. Then we would be ready to run out into the yard to pounce on Daddy as soon as he opened the car door to welcome him home.  As soon as he got out of the car I would jump on his back, while my sister and brother would grab both his legs. On a good day, if we could muster just enough leverage, Daddy would fall into the grass where we would lavish him with hugs and kisses like three little puppy dogs while he nearly tickled us to death. Mama, used to get on us. She’d remind us how tired Daddy was from working all day, and how one day when he drove up and saw us running and screaming towards the driveway, he was going to just keep going down the road!

I think mama was just jealous.

Every day, this father sat on his front porch, gazing down the road, watching and waiting, hoping and praying, grieving for his boy to return home. And while the boy was still a long way off, when through the fig and the olive trees the father could just make out his silhouette coming doing the road, the father got up and started running to meet his child, and throwing his arms around him, he began kissing him profusely.

I wonder how long the father waited for his son’s homecoming.  I wonder why the father waited. Can’t you just hear his concerned friends and neighbors, or maybe even his pastor telling him: “Old man, it’s time for you to move on. You’ve gotta get past this.  You’ve gotta face the facts. He’s not coming back. It’ time to get over it. It’s time to move on. Concentrate on your older boy who’s still here with you.”  But every day, the father still waited and watched and hoped and prayed and grieved.

 And he really didn’t have any evidence that his son was still alive. A young kid with a pocket full of cash, first time away from home, traveling alone—he was an easy target to any would-be thieves and murderers. Remember the story of the Good Samaritan? Still, the father patiently, and you might say…recklessly… waited. Every day, he kept looking down the road in front of his house. Straining to see, hoping and praying to see, his son coming home.

Then the great reunion and the biggest, most extravagant homecoming party anyone has ever heard of! The sandals, the ring, the robe, the best one! The calf, the fattest one! Nothing held back for this son who everyone thought was dead but now is alive, was lost and now is found.

And the religious leaders are seething, but now, with the older son. Listen how the older son talks about his brother: “How can you do this for ‘this son of yours?’ “How can you do this, not for ‘my brother,’ but for this one who’s, as far as I am concerned, a stranger, a foreigner, from some distant country?”

Then, it occurs to us.

We thought this was a story of a prodigal son, but it’s really a story of a prodigal father. It is a story of a parent’s love that is “reckless,” “profuse.” “extravagant,” and “excessive.”

When the boy wanted to leave home, the father recklessly gave him his inheritance. While the boy was gone out into the far country, his friends and neighbors would say that the father recklessly waited. And when the boy at last returned, the father recklessly threw an extravagant party. The father loved his son prodigally when he left home, he loved him prodigally while he was away from home, and he loved him prodigally when he returned home.

The good news is that is how our God loves each one of us.  It’s the exact opposite of violence. Our God is a God who, when it comes to love, holds nothing back. God’s love for us is extravagant, excessive, relentless, even reckless. The point of the story is that God’s love for us is profusely prodigal.

This is why we should never apologize for loving others in a way that the conservative religious culture would characterize as “liberal” or “radical.”

God is profusely prodigal in God’s desire to draw all of us unto God’s self. God is relentlessly radical to have us in God’s arms so God can shower us with divine kisses. And as the ranting of the religious leaders and the anger of the older brother reveal, such prodigal love, such extravagant grace and profuse mercy, such over-the-top compassion and empathy, will always be rejected by the conservative religious culture, and even frowned upon by some of our family members.

In fact, if we are praised by the predominant religious culture and by most in our families, then that is a tell-tell sign, that when it comes to love, when it comes to being a disciple of Jesus, we are doing something terribly wrong.

So, like a parent waiting on the porch for their wayward child to return home, may our love for others and for this planet, may our love for justice and equality, our love for diversity, equity, and inclusion, may our love for peace and freedom, always be profusely prodigal.

Then, it will be prophetically prodigal. Because love—when it is extravagant, when it is lavishly abundant and reckless, when it is completely nonviolent and unconditional, when it is radically counter-cultural and seemingly foolish—that’s the type of love that has the power to change the world! In fact, it is the only power that can change this world!

Ya gotta love that we are having our first nonviolent peace vigil this week on April Fool’s Day, as I am sure that we will have some passersby look at the signs we will be holding and say: “Look at dem crazy fools!” Because when we dare to be prophetically and publicly prodigal in a conservative, religious town, we are going to look foolish. And perhaps we are. How foolish are we?

  • We’re prodigally prophetic and foolish enough to believe that the only life worth living is a life that is given away.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the Kingdom of God belongs to the poor.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe those who hunger and thirst for justice will be filled.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe the last shall be first.
  • Thus, we’re prodigally prophetic and foolish enough to use our power and privilege, not to enrich ourselves, but stand up for the marginalized, defend the most vulnerable, and free the oppressed.
  • We’re prophetically prodigal and foolish enough see every human being, every race, color, gender, and every sexual orientation, is the image of God, that every person is a beloved child of God.
  • We’re foolish enough to forgive seventy times seven.
  • We’re foolish enough to turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, give the very shirt off our back.
  • We’re prodigally foolish enough to feed the hungry, love an enemy, welcome a stranger, and visit a prison.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that this world, this earth can be a better place, that all of creation can live in peace.
  • We’re prodigally foolish enough to get back up when life knocks us down.
  • We’re prodigally foolish enough to never give up, never give in, and never give out.
  • We’re foolish enough to believe that nothing can separate anyone from the love of God.
  • We’re recklessly, profusely, prodigally, prophetically foolish enough to believe that nothing can stop us, not even death, because nothing can stop love. Nothing can cause it to fade or to fail. Love always wins, and love never ends.

Far from the Shallow Now

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

Luke 5:1-11 NRSV

One morning, Jesus is preaching down at the lake. The crowd that had gathered is so large, Jesus felt like they were about to push him right into the water!

During the sermon, he sees two boats belonging to some fishermen who were on shore washing their nets. He gets into the boat belonging to Simon, and he asks Simon to anchor the boat a little way from the shore, where he continues his sermon.

Luke doesn’t record the words to Jesus’ sermon, but from his sermon in the very next chapter, we could probably take a good guess: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. Love everyone, even your enemies…” It’s a sermon of abundant mercy, extravagant grace, and boundless love!

After the sermon, Jesus tells Simon that he wants to do a little bit of fishing himself: “Let’s leave these shallow waters and let down the nets.”

Simon responds: “Master, with all due respect, I, along with my long-time business associates, James and John, have fished these waters all night long, and we haven’t caught a thing. Yet, if it will make you happy, I will go out a little deeper and put down the nets.”

Well, as soon as the nets hit the water, they catch so many fish that the nets begin to break. They quickly call out to James and John to get the other boat and offer them a hand.  And when they come, they fill the boats with so many fish that both boats begin to sink.

As Simon takes in the overwhelming scene— nets breaking, boats sinking, fish everywhere, a scene of failure and scarcity transformed into triumph and abundance, a scene of what can happen when you leave the shallow to dive into something deeper, what can be experienced when you obey the commands of Jesus—Simon is overwhelmed, and falling down at Jesus’ knees, he says: “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!”

It was as if Simon suddenly realized that it only seemed that Jesus was finished with his sermon that day. Jesus may be fishing, but he is still preaching. Through the abundant catch of fish, Jesus is still proclaiming God’s abundant mercy, extravagant grace, and boundless love. Believing he is underserving of such love, how unworthy he is of such abundance, Simon asks Jesus to go away.

But Jesus never goes away easily. “Simon, not only are you worthy to receive the abundant, extravagant, over-the-top love of God, you are worthy to share it with others and change this world! So, do not be afraid; for you are no longer going to be catching fish, you are going to be catching people!”

“I am asking you, Simon, along with your business partners James and John, to leave your shallow, contained, little world to venture out with me into a deeper, larger, revolutionary reality.

The truth is, Simon, I need you to go deeper. I need as many people as I can get to go deeper. The problems of the world are too great, and your lives are too short to waste any time wading in the shallow. And the grace of God is too extravagant. The mercy of God is too abundant. The love of God is too boundless for you to keep your it all to yourselves.

I need you to leave your shallow, safe world of spending all your time making a living to meet the needs of your immediate family, and I need you follow me into the deep, risky reality of sacrificing your time to meet the needs of the entire human family!

I need you to leave your shallow life that feeds you, and your children, and accept a deeper life that helps feed every child of God!

I need you to move beyond your shallow, narrow mission of caring for your own home, and accept the deeper, wider mission of caring for the entire planet!

I need you to lose the apathy towards issues that do not concern you and your limited of circle of family and friends to possess a deep empathy towards all who experience injustice!

I need you to move beyond your shallow understanding of success. Simon, no matter what you have been taught, success is not defined by the amount of fish you catch, or the size of your house or back account. It is so much deeper than that!

Your success is measured by how many people you loved extravagantly, abundantly, and graciously.

I need you to go deeper, Simon. You too, James and John, and be my disciples and fish for people. Do the hard, messy, oftentimes frustrating, and risky work to meet the needs of people, to care for and to liberate people. I need you to move far from the shallow now to do the deep work of love. And I am not talking about personal and intimate love, but a love that has public and political ramifications.

Now, here’s what I believe is the real miracle in this story. We read it in verse 11. After Jesus invited them to leave the shallow for something deeper, to leave the fish business to be in the people business we read: “When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.”

This is miraculous because when it came to accepting the extravagant grace and love of God revealed in the large catch of fish, Simon, seemed to have some difficulty: “Get out of here, Jesus! I am a sinful man!”

However, when it comes to following Jesus to a deeper life, to love others to selflessly and sacrificially, extravagantly and liberally, he, with James and John, leave everything and follow.

This is miraculous, because it is the exact opposite of how we humans usually work. We seem to have no problem accepting the grace of God for ourselves. We have no issues receiving the love of God for us personally. But we prefer to keep it shallow. We prefer to keep it personal. We prefer to keep it safe, keep it contained, keep it conservatively to ourselves. We are almost always reluctant to go deeper.

Because going deeper is dangerous. Going deeper is costly, and it is risky. Going deeper can be overwhelming. In the deep, fish break our nets and people break our hearts. Going deeper may mean leaving our friends and family behind.

I want to thank Katie Nunn for sharing her talent with us by creating this extravagant artwork that is adorning our baptistry today. When she first thought of this idea, which to me, speaks to the abundant and extravagant love we are called to share with others, she said she was tempted to think that the art might be “too far out” for church. But then, thinking about what this church means to her and to others, she thought, when it comes to love, for this church, there’s no such thing as being “too far out.”

In other words, Katie has joined a congregation of disciples, who, with Simon, James, and John, when it comes to love, have chosen to go deep, to go far out from the shallow.

We are disciples who have decided to go on a journey to share the abundant mercy, extravagant grace, and liberating love of God with all people, all the while knowing the journey will not be easy, comfortable, or popular.

Late author and professor John Augustus Shedd once said: “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” And today, we are on a ship with Jesus. He is the captain who navigates our journey out of the harbor into deep, dark, and dangerous waters.

The darkness of these days, like deep water, requires more than a shallow response. The times are too serious, and our time is too short, to waste any amount of time playing around in the shallow.

When the president makes an executive order to “eradicate” any opposition to the sick religion of White Christian Nationalism or the cult of MAGA, while disparaging any religious thought that calls for mercy and compassion, empathy, and equality, we must go deeper.

When the tax status of non-profits and institutions that serve the common good are threatened, when aid to the poorest people in the world is cut off, our stewardship practices, our civic engagement and our commitments need to go deeper.

When houses of worship receive warnings by the government that sanctuary provided to the immigrant will not be honored, that we may be targeted, our commitment to the word of God “to treat the foreigner living among us as native born, to love them as ourselves” gets called into the deep (Leviticus 19:34).

When programs designed to celebrate diversity, create equity, and foster inclusion are eliminated in favor of protecting the privileged, our faith compels us to go into the depths of human solidarity and belonging.

So, if you have come here this morning because you want to dip your toes in the safe shallow end of the pool, to wade, splash around, and enjoy yourselves, to nourish your private, personal relationship with the Lord, to remain neutral when it comes to public policy and politics that hurts the poor and the marginalized, then I am afraid, you have come to the wrong place! We don’t even have a kiddie pool for children in this place, as we are even training them to swim in the deep end.

Because we know that a shallow, safe, personal, and private faith, a faith that has the sole purpose to feed one personally, allows children to starve, and the entire creation to hunger.

A shallow faith allows the spread of a false gospel that is unconcerned with the living conditions of anyone else living on the earth as well as the state of the earth itself.

Shallow faith enables false prophets to reject Jesus, or worse, to act in ways that are the antithesis of Jesus, ways that are anti-Christ, and still claim they are following Jesus.

Shallow faith is afraid to enter into the depths of human suffering and oppression. It finds contentment inwardly, in one’s own family, job, possessions, and even church.

Shallow faith is afraid to rock the boat, afraid of losing a friend or upsetting a co-worker or family member.

Shallow faith is afraid of the sacrifices and the changes that need to be made.

And sadly, church is where people can be the most afraid, and thus the most shallow, the most small-minded and the most close-minded, the most self-interested and self-preserving

But the good news is that church can also be the place where people can be the most courageous, a place where we are challenged to be more open, more selfless, and more self-expending, where we are pulled by Jesus into the deep, dark, and dangerous places, far from the shallow.

To those difficult places where we have a deep conversation with that climate change-denier or anti-vaxer. Where we go out of our way to help an asylum seeker. Where we contact our legislatures to object to the wicked assault on trans people. Where we call out racism and white supremacy wherever we see it, on the school board, the city council, even in our own families.

The good news is that the First Christian ship of Lynchburg, Virginia has left the harbor. Jesus is our captain. And we are far from the shallow now! Amen.

Being Great

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

Mark 9:30-37 NRSV

In Mark chapter 9, we read where the disciples are arguing with one another about which one of them was the greatest.

And who could blame them? For they had just tasted greatness on what we call the Mount of Transfiguration. In this same chapter, we read where Peter, James and John witness the appearance of Jesus, his face, even his clothes, shine!

So, of course the disciples are arguing about greatness. For they too wanted to shine!

And 2,000 years later, disciples are still arguing about what it means to be great, still arguing about how to make our country great, and to make our church great. And, here in the United States, the ones who seem to winning this argument, or at least are arguing the loudest, are all around us.

Do you want to be a great church?

Wed yourself to the empire. Unite with a political party. Do whatever it takes to attain power in order to legislate your own worldview and understanding of morality, and oppress all who do not fall in line.

Do you want to be a great church?

Then do whatever it takes to draw a large crowd. Because crowd size is what it is all about. To get people’s attention, make up some stories if you have to. They don’t have to be true stories. They just need to be sensational stories to get people riled up. Stoke fear if you have to, do whatever it takes to attract a big crowd. Tell them their whole world is going to end unless they join you. And if you’re loud enough, and say it often enough, you might be able to draw crowds like Elvis Presley used to draw, and you won’t even need a guitar. But speaking, of guitars…

Do you want to be a great church?

Then you have to make your services more entertaining. Do something to make the people smile, laugh, clap and tap their feet. And do you really need to have Communion every Sunday? That’s a lot of work. All that preparation and clean-up. And besides, no one wants to hear about sacrifice, self-expenditure, shed blood, and a broken body every Sunday! Just give the people what they want. Trade those tiny, dry crackers for some fresh, hot donuts, and trade that little sip of juice for a caramel macchiato or a vanilla latte.

Do you want to be a great church?

As the pastor, don’t ever be too real. Never admit your mistakes. Never apologize for anything. Don’t let people know that you need forgiveness. Never let it slip out that you have your doubts. Make them believe you never question your faith and you have all of the answers.

Do you want to be a great church?

Discourage all critical thinking. Encourage folks to check their brains at the door. Tell them exactly what you want them to believe. And them not to listen to anyone else and to even ignore what they may see with their very own eyes. Tell them that if they hear anything that is critical of you, it is fake news. Always keep it simple, black or white, good or evil, heaven or hell.

Do you want to be a great church?

Create an “us-verses-them” mentality, an “insider-verses-outsider” way-of-thinking. And remind the congregation every Sunday that we are “in,” and those who disagree with us are “out.” Make them feel righteous, holy, superior, knowing that while we are on their way to heaven, those who are unlike us are most certainly heading in the other direction.

Do you want to be a great church?

Look, it’s fine to say you welcome all people to church. But don’t say it every Sunday. Don’t over-emphasize it, and don’t advertise it. And avoid using words like “diversity,” equity, and inclusion” and never say “social justice.” And don’t talk so much about helping people who are poor, and standing up for the marginalized. Because, the truth is, people like to be with people who think like them, act like them, and look like them.

Do you want to be a great church?

Have more programs that are uplifting and edifying for the members. Give them what they want, especially those who have some money and some power in the community. Keep them filled, satisfied, happy and comfortable. Don’t ever pressure them to do things that are outside of their comfort zones. Always make the faith about winning; never losing anything, and certainly not losing themselves. Make it about being first; never about being last.

Do you want to be a great church?

Preach what is popular. Embrace the culture over the Word of God. Instead of preaching extravagant grace, preach “love the sinner and hate the sin.” Instead of preaching love your neighbor, preach “God only helps those who are willing to help themselves.”

Then Jesus comes, and he asks:

“What are you talking about?”

We are silent.

We are also embarrassed. Because deep down, we know that our arguments are antithetical to everything Jesus has been teaching us.

But Jesus heard us. Jesus always hears us.

It is then that Jesus goes into the nursery and brings out a little baby; and taking the child in his arms, he says:

Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.

In other words, Jesus said to those who were arguing about greatness:

Stop worrying about being great, and start worrying about the least. And when you do that, when you take care of those who cannot care for themselves, when you feed those who cannot feed themselves, when you clothe those who cannot clothe themselves, when you welcome those who often feel unwelcomed, those who are treated like outsiders and called “aliens,” then you welcome God. And like me standing on that mountain, you will shine!”

Holding that baby in his arms, it is as if Jesus is asking: “Do you want to be great? Do you want to shine like me standing there with the prophet Elijah and the law-giver Moses? Then listen to the voices from the law and the prophets.”

Listen to the voice of Moses who commanded:

If there are any poor…in the land…do not be hard-hearted or tightfisted toward them. Instead, be generous and lend them whatever they need. …Give generously to the poor, not grudgingly, for the Lord your God will bless you in everything you do. There will always be some in the land who are poor. That is why I am commanding you to share freely with the poor and with other Israelites in need (Deut 15:7-11).

Never take advantage of poor and destitute laborers, whether they are fellow Israelites or foreigners living in your towns. …True justice must be given to foreigners living among you… (Deut 24:14-16).

Jesus is saying to listen to the Proverbs, words that us who is great in the eyes of God:

…blessed are those who help the poor… Those who oppress the poor insult their Maker, but helping the poor honors him (Proverbs 14:21, 31).

If you help the poor, you are lending to the Lord— and he will repay you!”(Proverbs 19:17).

And listen to who are not so great in God’s eyes:

Those who shut their ears to the cries of the poor will be ignored in their own time of need (Proverbs 21:13).

A person who gets ahead by oppressing the poor or by showering gifts on the rich will end in poverty (Proverbs 22:16).

Whoever gives to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to poverty will be cursed (Proverbs 28:27)

So,

Speak out for those who cannot speak, for the rights of all the destitute. Speak out, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy (Proverbs 31:8-9).

Jesus is saying to listen the voice of the Psalmist…

Give justice to the poor and the orphan; uphold the rights of the oppressed and the destitute. Rescue the poor and helpless; (Psalms 82:2).

Do you want to be great? Then listen to the voice of the prophet Isaiah:

Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows. “Come now, let’s settle this,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow. Though they are red like crimson, I will make them as white as wool (Isaiah 1:17-18).

In other words,  says the Lord,  when you help the least, when the mission and ministries of your church side with the poor and the marginalized, I will transform you. I will transfigure you!

Do you want to know how to be a great church?  Do you really want to shine? asks Jesus. Then listen some more to Isaiah:

Free those who are wrongly imprisoned; lighten the burden of those who work for you. Let the oppressed go free, and remove the chains of injustice. Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help.

Then your salvation will come like the dawn, and your wounds will quickly heal. The Spirit of God will lead you forward, and the glory of the Lord will protect you from behind. Then when you call, the Lord will answer. ‘Yes, I am here,’ he will quickly reply, ‘Remove the heavy yoke of oppression…Feed the hungry, and help those in trouble. Then your light will shine out from the darkness, and the darkness around you will be as bright as noon’ (Isaiah 58:6-10).

The late Ruth Bader Ginsburg taught law students how to be great lawyers with advice that I believe applies to each of us.  She said something like: if you really want to shine, if you really want to be great, (an now I quote)

…you will do something outside yourself, something to repair tears in your community, something to make life a little better for people less fortunate than you. That’s what I think a meaningful life is. One lives not just for one’s self but for one’s community.

Amen.

Let’s Get Physical

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment
Poor People’s Campaign June 29, 2024 in Washington DC to Support Poor and Low-Income People

Mark 5:21-43 NRSV

Yesterday, I had the privilege of escorting Betty Anne and Nancy to Washington DC for a rally of the Poor People’s Campaign. As we were crossing a street on the way back to the Metro Station, I heard Nancy say: “Betty Anne, watch your step on this curb.”

I responded, “Yes, Betty Anne! I forgot to go over the rules with the both of you for this trip. Rule number one is no falling. Nobody is allowed to fall on this trip!” And I admit I said it because both of them are not as young as they used to be.

Then, you know what happened next. I tripped over a loose brick in the sidewalk all 6’4” of my old self ended up laying, bruised and scraped up in some bushes.

As I was trying to reorient myself, I felt the hands of Betty Anne and Nancy on my shoulder and I felt this other hand touch my arm, and heard a strange voice with a foreign accent asking me to take her arm. As I did, this stranger pulled me back to my feet and, in a kind voice, asked me if I was ok.

It is hard to explain it, but something very hopeful, even spiritual happened in that physical encounter.

Thus, it is no surprise to me to learn that our God is a God who uses the physical as a means of grace. Today’s scripture lesson, with its repeated theme of physical touching, is a perfect example.

Through the act of touching, a woman is made whole, and God’s healing power is released.

Through the power of the physical touch, barriers of society and tradition are crossed. Rules and laws are broken. The woman in the story is unnamed and ceremonially unclean. It is against the rules to touch her, and it is against the rules for her to touch another. Then, notice what happens after the woman breaks the law by reaching out and touching Jesus.

Jesus asks, “Who touched me?” And desiring to connect with the woman who touched him, he reaches out and touches her. He commends her faith and calls her “daughter.” Through the grace of physical touch, the woman who was once unclean has been made whole. And the woman who was once unnamed has become a child of God.

In the second part of the story, like the woman with the hemorrhage, this the corpse of the girl is ritually unclean. Touching a corpse is against the rules. Yet, Jesus reaches out and touches the girl’s body nevertheless. In taking the girl’s hand, in touching the girl, Jesus reaches across the boundaries of society, but also boundaries of death. And her life is restored.

About twenty years ago, I attended a conference for pastors at Princeton University in New Jersey with two good friends of mine who were both serving as pastors at the time in North and South Carolina. During our free time one day, we Carolina boys thought it would be exciting to board a train and visit the Big Apple. Before we left, several frequent travelers New York City who were also attending the conference, gave us some advice.

“When you are in the city, don’t look anyone in the eyes,” they said.  “Don’t speak to anyone. Don’t point, at anyone or anything. If you point at a building, someone may think you are pointing at them, and there may be trouble. And whatever you do, don’t touch anyone. Don’t get close to anyone!”

As we were standing at one intersection in Times Square, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green so we could cross, I noticed everyone in front of me, looking back over their shoulders. I turned around to see what they were looking at and saw a very elderly man with a long white beard who appeared to be homeless. With one hand on his grocery cart, he was bending down and picking up a slice of pizza off sidewalk. As he walked down the road pushing the grocery cart, he lifted the pizza to his mouth.

“Look, he’s going to eat it,” someone jeered.  But before he could get it to his mouth, he accidently dropped it. The crowd laughed at the poor man as we watched him a second time, pick up the pizza, put it to his mouth only to drop it again. The light turned green, the and off we went.

Later, we were walking up several flights of stairs as we exited the subway.  My friend, Cary was in front of me and my friend, Steve was behind me.

Up ahead, I noticed a frail-looking man struggling to pull a large suitcase up the stairs. As Cary and I walked past the man who grunted with each step dragging the suitcase behind him I thought: “Should I help him?”  “No, he might get the wrong idea, think I’m trying to steal it or something.”  So, I kept walking.

Steve, however, who was a few steps behind us, took a risk. Not knowing if the man even spoke English, he asked, “Do you need some help?” As Steve reached out and touched the end of the suitcase, the man immediately gave Steve a fearful, mean glance. But then, seeing that Steve intended no harm, he smiled. I watched as he smiled most hopeful kind of smile, and said, “thank you.” Steve, picked up the suitcase and helped the man out of the subway. At the top of the stairs, the man reached out his arm, looking like he wanted to hug Steve. He stopped just short of a hug and patted Steve on the back, saying, “Thank you. God bless you.”

Once again, God used the physical as a means of grace.  Steve reached out and touched and the power of God, the amazing grace of Jesus Christ was released.

As long as I live, I’ll always wonder what might have happened if I had purchased that homeless man a fresh slice of pizza.  I’ll always dream of the possibilities of what might have transpired if I ate a slice of pizza with him. I’ll always think of the grace that might of come, the salvation that might have happened, through the simple act of reaching out my hand to that poor man who was struggling to survive.

The critique I heard most about the new expression of church we planted in New Orleans that we called “Just Love” is that we lacked a spiritual emphasis. People would say: “I love your feeding ministry and all of your service projects, but it sounds like you are only interested in meeting people’s physical needs. What about the spiritual?”

During the summer of 2020, I was out on my route delivering hot meals one evening to people who are food-insecure in Abita Springs, Louisiana. I pulled into the driveway of a gentleman to whom I have been delivering meals since the start of the pandemic in March.

As usual, he was sitting on a chair in front of his house waiting for me. I look forward to seeing him each week, and he always looks forward to seeing me. Every time I pull up in front of his house, I hear: “Rev, am I glad to see you!”

As I was handing him a bag containing two meals, a woman approached us on a bicycle. She asked me: “Sir, do you have any extra? I am so hungry.” I replied, “No, but if you give me your name and address, I can add you to my list for the next time I am out here delivering meals.” She responded: “Sir, I don’t have an address.” Then, she started to ride off.

Having just learned she was homeless, I stood there, speechless. That is when the gentlemen who had been sitting out in the heat waiting for me to deliver his food shouted, “Hey! you can have mine!”

I said: “There are two plates in the bag. You both can have one!”

He looked at the bag, and then he held it up to the woman who had stopped her bicycle, and said: “No, I have a can of beans that I can warm up. I will be alright. You take both of these.”

The woman took the bag, thanked the man, and rode away.

The man looked at me and said, “Like you say Rev, just love.” He turned and went inside.

It was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life. It was a Holy God moment if there ever was one.

And this, my friends, is what our world needs. We need to reach past all of the barriers that we erect between ourselves and our neighbors— political, religious, racial, ethnic, economic. We need to go out, reach out, and touch them. We need to allow them to touch us. We need to join hands, link arms, rub elbows, and see that we have more things in common than the things that separate us.

And when we do that, something that can only be described as “spiritual” happens. When we touch and connect with others, we touch and connect with God, for we are soon able to see the very image of God in others.

Every Sunday morning, we gather around this table and affirm the grace of the physical. When we consume physical elements of grain and grape, representing the body and blood of Christ, we affirm that we have been touched by God through Christ. We affirm that through his touch, we have been made whole. Through his touch, we have all become children of God.

But more than that, in consuming the body and blood of Christ, affirm that we are the physical body of Christ in this world. Our hands are the hands of Christ. Our hands are holy. Our hands are a means of God’s grace. They have the power to heal this broken world. They have the power to accept, to welcome, to love, and to make this world a better place.

Thus, the simple act of touching—reaching out, connecting, sharing—is profoundly and powerfully spiritual.  It is sacred, and it is holy, perhaps more so if that touch reaches across the barriers of society and tradition.

A little bit of physical exertion to help a neighbor can bring hope. A simple handshake or embrace can bring a peace that is beyond all understanding. Reaching out a hand to an old man lying scaped and bruised in the bushes become a spiritual exercise. Sharing a meal with someone can start a powerful chain reaction of selfless love that changes the world!

When we reach out, touch, connect and share with our neighbors, we can’t and we won’t stay silent when the Supreme Court makes it illegal for a homeless person to sleep on a park bench, when it takes away the healthcare rights of women, or makes it more difficult for anyone to vote.

We can’t and we won’t vote for politicians that hurt LBGTQ people and support policies that marginalize people of other faiths.

And we can’t and we won’t accept poverty as the fourth leading cause of death in this, the richest country in the world.

We must recognize togther that there are dark forces working in our world that do not want us to come together. They use fear to divide us and lies to separate us. Because when we come together, when we touch our neighbors, when we allow our neighbors to touch us, they know that something powerful happens, because love happens. And when love happens, change happens. Grace happens. Empathy happens. Compassion happens.

And votes happen. The general welfare of all the people happens. Solidarity with low wage workers happens. Hospitality to the foreigner happens. A call for a ceasefire and all wars to cease happens. A demand for wealthy corporations to pay their fair share to secure a safety net for the poor and disabled happens. Free fully funded public education happens. Access to quality healthcare happens.

Healing happens. Life happens. Liberty and justice for all finally happens.

Righteous Rage

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Lent, Sermons Year BLeave a comment
Shirt can be ordered at https://pavlovitzdesign.com

John 2:13-22 NRSV

Psychologists have identified four stages of anger.[i] The first stage is when we are “annoyed.” Studies have shown that most people become annoyed a few times per day when someone or some situation becomes bothersome or irritating to us.

I am sure Jesus was annoyed as often as we are, if not more often. I believe we can read one example in Mark, chapter 2, when Jesus enters the synagogue on a sabbath and encounters a man with a withered hand. Although the Pharisees believed it was unlawful to heal on the sabbath, Jesus compassionately heals the man and then looks at the Pharisees “with anger” says Mark; for he was “grieved,” or I believe one could say, “he was very annoyed,” by their “hardness of heart.”

When we are annoyed and feel our stress levels begin to rise, we’ve moved into the second stage of anger: “frustration.” In this stage, we’re still able to think rationally, but because of our dissatisfaction with what’s happening, it might not be as easy to stay calm and clearheaded.

 A few weeks ago, we read an account of Jesus being frustrated when he encounters a leper, and according to Mark, is “moved with pity.” I pointed out that scholars agree that the Greek text is best translated, “moved with anger,” and I said it was not so much the disease of leprosy that angered or frustrated Jesus, but it was what the disease did to a person socially, excluding them from community.

The third stage of anger is “hostility.” We get to this stage when there’s been a large build-up of stress, pain, or anxiety. Things become so frustrating, we find it difficult to stay calm or to speak politely.  Have you ever heard the saying: “That’s enough to make a preacher cuss?” I could tell you some stories, but this is not the time nor the place. Maybe down in the fellowship hall Wednesday night, or better yet, downtown at the brewery Thursday evening. An example of Jesus becoming hostile may be last week’s gospel lesson when Jesus, calls Peter “Satan.”

Then we have the fourth stage: rage. This is the stage where we lose control. We lash out physically, like throwing an object, like silver coins, or turning over a piece of furniture, like a table in the temple, or we may threaten violence, like making a whip of cords and chasing everyone out of the room, even the sheep and the cattle.

 I don’t believe there’s better example of Jesus demonstrating rage than this temple scene in today’s gospel lesson. And a good question for those of us who are seeking to emulate Jesus is: What moved Jesus from simply being annoyed to a fit of rage?

To interpret this text, it is important to note why this is our lectionary text in the season of Lent. Our text begins: “The Passover of the Jews was near.” To commemorate the story of the Israelites’ protection from the Angel of Death and their Exodus from Egyptian slavery, Jewish people were coming from all over to purchase animals in the temple to make religious sacrifices to God so they could get right with God, experience some love and favor from God. To get right with God, people with means had enough money to purchase cattle or sheep, whereas people who were poor scaped up the little money they had and settled for the doves.

That the religious leaders were making a profit by leading people to believe they could not experience Divine favor unless certain conditions were met, enraged Jesus so that he made a whip and chased them out of the temple, pouring out their coins and turning over their tables, while specifically instructing those who were selling doves to the poor, “Take these things out of here!”

The Jews, who are now unable to purchase sacrifices to observe Passover, become fearful that they would be unable to get right with God. So, they confront Jesus: “You better be able to come up with a pretty good sign to prove to us that we don’t need to make sacrifices to experience God’s love!”

And it is then that Jesus responds, “Destroy this temple, and in three days, I will raise it up.” John tells us that Jesus was speaking not of the building in which they stood, but the temple of his own body.

I believe John is emphasizing that in the incarnation of Jesus, the good news of God’s unconditional love is enfleshed or embodied. In the words of Revelation 21, “God’s dwelling place is now among the people” with Jesus modeling the way.

This should not lead anyone to believe that the presence of God has departed from the Jewish faith or that Christianity supersedes any other religious tradition. Rather, from a Christian perspective, the good news that every person is loved by God just as they are, is enfleshed in anyone who follows the way of love that Jesus embodied.

Mahatma Gandhi was annoyed and frustrated when he famously said:

I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.

This, of course, is the main problem of the church today. While there are many faith communities loving others selflessly and unconditionally, too many Christians have succumbed to their thirst for power and control.

Today, this is demonstrated whenever the church seems more concerned about the survival of the institution than the needs of people; whenever service in the community is performed in hope of gaining new members, rather than out of compassionate concern for neighbors in need; and whenever gatekeepers are appointed to determine who belongs in the family of God and the hoops through one must jump to be in community.

Instead of embodying the good news of God’s love for all people through acts of grace and mercy, the church today looks more like a set of rules designed by the powerful and the privileged to keep people in line and the marginalized in their place.

Christianity looks like a religion based more on nationalism than on following the way of love that Jesus modeled. It looks like a religion built on guilt, obligation, and fear, a religion whose purpose is to keep people out of an eternal hell while ignoring the hell humanity has created in God’s good creation.[ii]

A religion. This is what really enraged Jesus, that people took something as pure and wonderful and holy as the unconditional love of God and made it into a religion.

While I was pastoring a church right out of seminary back in 1993, a deacon in our church asked me where I saw myself in twenty-five years. I told him that I believed that I would still be pastoring a church somewhere.

He laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?”   I asked.

“I see you more as the type who might be teaching in some college somewhere or directing a non-profit. I don’t think you are going to be a pastor.”

“Why do you say that?”

He said, “For one thing, pastors are generally religious people. And you, my friend, are not very religious!”

What this deacon failed to realize was that the church is not a religious organization. And the last thing a Christian pastor should be is religious.

Let me share with you what I think is a good definition of religion.  It comes from the late Episcopal Priest Robert Capon: “Religion is the attempt by human beings to establish a right relationship between themselves and something beyond themselves which they think to be of life-giving significance.”

This is what enraged Jesus so, that people have been made to feel that they must be religious, jump through some religious hoops, to get right with God. They believe if they make the right sacrifice, say the right prayers, believe in the right creed, behave the right way, avoid the right sins, then they can earn some Divine favor.

This is why we call the unconditional love of God Jesus taught and embodied “the gospel.” This is why we call it good news. If we called it religion, it would be bad news. Religion would mean that there was still some secret to be unlocked, some ritual to be gotten right, some law to obey, some theology to grasp, or some little sin to be purged.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We don’t need religion, but I believe we still need church. However, we do not need church to get right with God. We need church to discover ways we can get right with our neighbor. We need church to discover ways we can get right with the planet. Because what this world needs more than anything else today is not more religious people who believe they possess the keys to salvation, but more people to come together to love their neighbors, their communities, their cities, the entire creation, with the unconditional, unreserved, unbounded love of God that Jesus embodied.

Or maybe, in the words of Ziggy Marley, we need more people who simply make love their religion. Not for the sake of getting right with God, but for the sake of love and only love.

Because when love, just love, is our religion, we are free to volunteer at Park View Mission and truly love our neighbors purely, unconditionally, authentically, without any thought of persuading them to worship or believe like us.

When love is our religion, we are free to serve selflessly and sacrificially in our community without any temptation to ever say anything like: “Look at us. Look how good we are. Don’t you want to join our church?”

When love is our religion, we are free to purchase learning kits to help children living in poverty prepare for kindergarten with no strings attached, with no hidden agenda whatsoever, just love.

When love is our religion, we are free to pray earnestly for Palestinians in Gaza, give to organizations like Week of Compassion to support humanitarian aid for those who are suffering with no other intention but to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

When love is our religion (just love, for the sake of love), when we love freely, unconditionally, unreservedly, fully, and purely, I believe we look like the enfleshed presence of God in the world.

And that, I believe, is what makes Jesus very happy.

And that, I believe, is what makes Jesus very happy.

[i] https://reallifecounseling.us/blog/stages-of-anger

[ii] https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-transactionalism/

Going Fishing

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year BLeave a comment
Fishing net parament adorning the communion table of the First Christian Church in Lynchburg, Virginia

As we celebrate 150 years of being church, I think it is good to highlight something that is central to who we are as the First Christian Church in Lynchburg, VA. And that is fishing. You knew that right? Why else would we adorn our communion table with a giant, very colorful, diverse mosaic of a giant fishing net. There’s a great description of our fishing net parament hanging on the wall in the back of the sanctuary that I encourage you to read when you have a chance.

Our fishing net is appropriate as the gospels are full of great fishing stories. Like the story of Jesus is having church on the beach. Luke tells us that the congregation gathered that day is so large, they keep “pressing in on him to hear the word of God,” almost pushing Jesus into the water!

It is then that 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 the moment, 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. Filled with so many fish, the nets almost break.

Do you remember 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. As our scripture lesson in Mark reminds us, this story in Luke is not a story about catching fish at all. It is a story about catching people. It is a story about inclusion. It is a story about bringing new people aboard.

And like Simon, this can scare us sto death.

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

And besides, if they did catch anything, which by the way would be by sheer accident or dumb luck since they’re not paying any attention whatsoever to their pole, that would just mean for some work for them to do when they get back to the shore. And the one thing that fishing is not supposed to be is work!

I am afraid I have just painted a portrait of many 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 purpose of church 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 is probably for the best.

Then, we have the second kind of fisherman. These are the ones who are really intentional about catching fish. This was my Nana and Granddaddy.

On the water with Nana and Granddaddy, I didn’t know whether to call what we were doing out there in the boat “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 find another place 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!

To be the church that God is calling us to be, we must be a people on the move, willing to change, go to other places, and we must be intentional.

We must constantly reel in our lines to go outside of these walls to meet people exactly where they are, not where we might want them to be, but where they are, especially in those deep, dark places where people are hungry for love and starving for grace; where they are famished for liberty, and thirsty justice and equality.

And we must be willing to express our intentionality, publicly, out loud.

Many churches today are happy to say: “All are welcome.” But what does that truly mean? Welcome by whom?  For all can’t be welcome unless someone is doing the welcoming. Right? That’s why we need to be explicit saying, “The First Christian Church of Lynchburg, Virginia welcomes all.”

And who is “all”? Sadly, today saying “all” not saying enough. “All” who want to look like us, believe like us and behave like us?

That’s why we have to say it, and say it explicitly, intentionally, out loud. Especially today, we need to keep saying that this church welcomes people who identify as LGBTQIA+. We need to say out loud that we do not believe being queer is any more sinful than being cisgendered and heterosexual can be. We need to keep saying publicly that we affirm all people are created in the image of God. We are not afraid to say out loud that this church believes black lives matter and black and brown people are always welcome here. To sit in our pews, be on our boards, lead our worship and preach from our pulpits.

We need to keep saying that our church welcomes women and believes women can teach a Bible study class that is of full men. We believe women, as well as people who identify as LGBTQIA+, can be teachers, preachers, pastors and even President of the Denomination. We believe women have power in the church’s boardroom, and that they always have power over their own bodies.

And when you are welcomed here, we need to keep reminding you that you become a part of our body; thus, when you suffer, we all suffer. So, you can count on us to be there for you, to care for you, to pray with you, and to fight for you when the world treats you unjustly.

The problem is that too many churches today are sitting back, half asleep, with one pole in the water. They are not moving, not changing, and not going out. And they are not intentionally saying anything, at least anything out loud. They could care less if anyone new 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.

I will never forget that Nana used to go fishing with this special red pocketbook. It was leather or maybe vinyl and must have been lined with plastic. Nana always went fishing with this pocketbook, because when Nana was about the business of catching flounder, Nana did not discriminate.

When it came to flounders, you could say, Nana was Open and Affirming. 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: “Oh no! This flounder is an inch too short, I guess I need to throw him back.”

“Oh, you will do no such thing!” Nana would say, “He’s ‘pocket-book size!’”

 

Here’s what you don’t know, Nana’s son, my uncle, at the time, was a North Carolina Game Warden. Nana risked getting into trouble not only with the state, but with her own family.

I have heard it said, “If following Jesus does not get you into some trouble, then you’re probably not doing right.”

Pastors are constantly getting into trouble, for it is impossible to please everyone. But what’s crazy to me is that I have gotten into the most trouble when I have preached sermons on loving our neighbors, when I preach against hate and discrimination and for unconditionally loving and fully including people who may not measure up to our cultural, societal, or religious expectations.

I have had family members actually tell me that they are ashamed of me and that I embarrass them by preaching such inclusivity.

Some believe the sole purpose of the church is about making sure that everyone who is already in the boat is contented, comfortable and happy. They are unaware that Jesus calls us all to fish for people, to cast a large net bringing others aboard without discrimination, leading them to make the life-giving, world-changing decision to join a movement following the way of love that Jesus taught his disciples.

And God help us when the church is 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 many churches today are like 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.” They say it today through their exclusive membership policies, through their by-laws, creeds and confessions and in their sermons. And it is the main reason why so many churches today look nothing like Jesus.

Late Disciples of Christ pastor Fred Craddock loved to tell the story of one local church. Although their sign out front read, “A church that serves all people,” when all people would show up to be served, the exclusive spirit of the congregation continually drove the newcomers away.

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

Go Figure!

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

Matthew 18:21-35 NRSV

My worst subject in school was always math. One day, I remember someone asking me, “Jarrett, what made you decide to go into the ministry?”  I responded, “They don’t have math in seminary.”

It is interesting that math is not the forte of most ministers I know. Someone told me that they once played golf with a pastor who always insisted that he keep score. He said: “At first, the other golfers and I didn’t mind the preacher keeping score, because surely a man of the cloth would never cheat. However, one day after looking over the scorecard, I had to speak up. I said: “Preacher, I don’t question your theology, and I don’t question your honesty, but I do question your mathematics.”

Now, I’m not completely ignorant when it comes to math. I can do simple math, good ol’ common sense math. One plus one equals two. Two plus two equals four. Three strikes and you’re out. But, when it starts to get more complicated than that, let’s just say I’m thankful for the calculator on my cell phone.

Like our gospel lesson this morning:

For this reason the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his slaves. When he began the reckoning, one who owed him ten thousand talents was brought to him.

Sounds like one of those fourth-grade math word problems that used to stress me out!

Unfortunately for me, as a sermon from United Methodist Bishop William Willimon once pointed out, there is, even in the gospel, a sort of mathematics.[1]  For when Jesus began teaching the ways of God, he brought us a new way of making calculations, and this math of Jesus is oftentimes very difficult for us to figure.

I am thinking about that woman who took nearly a quart of fine perfume, costing over a year’s salary, and poured it all over Jesus’ feet.  On his feet! The woman wastefully pours all that perfume, 60, 70, maybe 100,000 thousand dollars-worth all over Jesus, and then, Jesus has the audacity to praise her.  What kind of mathematics is that?

I am thinking about that time Jesus praises a shepherd who left behind 99 sheep, “in the wilderness,” in order to look for 1 lost sheep. What kind of math is that?

If you leave 99 sheep alone, vulnerable, in the wilderness, what do you think is going to happen when you are gone? When you get back from finding the one lost sheep, if you find it, common sense says you’re certain to return to far fewer sheep! How does that add up?

One day Jesus watched the rich making a big show dropping their bags of money into the temple treasury. Think about that: “A bag of money.” When’s the last time you’ve seen “a bag of money?” That’s a lot of money! But when Jesus saw a poor widow come and drop one penny into the temple offering, he said that she had given more than all the others put together.

Click on your calculator app and try to figure that one out!

And then there was a farmer who hired people to go to work in his vineyard. Some arrived at work just as day was dawning, others came mid-morning, others at mid-day, some in the afternoon, and then some slackers showed up just one hour before quitting time.

At the end of the day, this eccentric farmer called everybody together and paid everybody the exact same wage. Now, how on earth does he figure that one hour of work is worth the same amount as 12 hours of work?

Do you see the common theme which runs through all these parables? It’s an entirely different kind of math. In our mathematics one plus one equals two—one plus one always equals two, only two. But here, in this new math, the value of 1 may be equal to the value 99, depending on who’s doing the counting.

And one little coin is said to be worth more than several big bags of money, depending on who’s keeping the books.

When Jesus tells us the story about the farmer who hires servants to work in his vineyard, I suppose most of us hard-working, tax-paying, responsible citizens of the vineyard immediately identify with the servants who worked in the vineyard all day. To be told that somebody shows up in the vineyard just one hour before the end and gets the same as those who labored all day, well, that just doesn’t add up. And we are not ok with that.

However, if we could empathetically hear this parable from the standpoint of those workers who showed up late—the person who because of a disability, because of a family crisis, because of a lack of training, a lack of education, a lack of language proficiency, a lack of transportation, or for whatever reason, was only  hired at the end of the day but then  received the same wage as those who had been there the whole day—if we could hear it from their vantage point, I guarantee you, we’d be ok with it.

Yes, there’s a common theme running through these parables.  And it is not so much math as it is grace.

And if we are honest, this thing we call “grace” is sometimes difficult for us to figure.

We think to ourselves, “As far as God is concerned, if I do this, then I will receive that; and if I don’t do this, I will not receive that.”  But the truth is that our relationship with God is not a matter of what we do, or the way we figure it, but a matter of what God does, and the way God figures it.

Peter came to Jesus wondering how many times he should forgive someone who had wronged him. “Seven times?” The way we figure it, that number seems more than reasonable. Right? It’s hard enough to forgive someone one time, much less seven times.

But Jesus said, “You must forgive not seven times, but seventy times seven.” That’s a huge number, whatever it is.

“Built right into the heart of the gospel is an extravagant graciousness which refuses to be calculated.”[2]

Perhaps that is why many of us love the passage of scripture that comes right before our gospel lesson this morning.

Jesus said, “If another member of the church sins against you, go and point out the fault when the two of you are alone…if you are not listened to [STRIKE ONE], take one or two others along with you…If the member refuses to listen to them [STRIKE TWO], tell it to the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector [STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT OF THERE!].”

Finally, something that we can figure out!  Some simple math—One plus one equals two. Be good and be rewarded. Three strikes and you’re out. Be bad and be punished.

But here’s the problem. When we place this mathematical calculation in the context of Jesus’ mathematics of grace, we get another result.

 As Eugene Boring has commented, Jesus’ “context is not of self-righteous vindictiveness, but of radical caring for the marginal and straying, and of grace and forgiveness beyond all imagining.”[3]

We like to think, “Yes! Treat them like tax collectors! Three strikes, they’re out!” But have you thought about how Jesus treated tax collectors?

Jesus called them to be his disciples. When they betrayed him, he washed their feet and served them from the table. And when they deserted him and denied him, he said, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Then, he died for them.

The truth is, in our self-absorbed, self-centered, oftentimes vindictive little world, God’s math just doesn’t add up.

This time of the year I almost always hear someone comparing the losses that we suffer here from natural disasters to the losses suffered in poorer nations. They say things like: “the wealthy living on the coasts of Florida or Maui have much more to lose.” And if you think about it in terms of property values, the numbers might add up.

But that’s our math. It’s not God’s math.

Willimon would say that what they failed to calculate is that…

…small, insignificant numbers like one sheep, or one insignificant person, one little coin, one hour of labor, become very large in God’s mathematics. On the other hand, the impressive accomplishments and wealth of the rich and powerful are seen as nothing.  As the prophet says, God’s ways are not our ways. God’s measurements are not our measurements.

What we think adds up, doesn’t add up.

And here’s the really good news: because of God’s amazing grace, what we think doesn’t add up— adds up.

We look at something and say: “That just doesn’t make any sense. That doesn’t compute.  I don’t care how many times you count and recount, check and double check, that just doesn’t add up.”

And God responds: “Oh, yes it does! In the mathematics of my grace, it most certainly adds up!”

Spending several hours on a Saturday morning to feed our neighbors at Parkview Mission, yet going home feeling like someone has fed you—adds up.

Giving a $100 to disaster relief, not expecting one cent in return, yet feeling like someone has paid you ten times that amount — adds up.

Volunteering an hour to help someone in need when you do not have five minutes to spare, only to discover that you had plenty of time—adds up.

Going to a nursing home to bless someone, but leaving the nursing home having received a greater blessing—adds up.

Facing one’s own imminent death, yet feeling more alive than a newborn and more hopeful than a newlywed—adds up.

A congregation has a budget that is much smaller than it used to be because it is smaller than it used to be; yet, the congregation loves the people in their city so unconditionally, offers grace to others so unreservedly, and extends mercy so extravagantly, that it transforms not only their church, but their entire city, the region, even other parts of the world, in ways that are beyond their calculations—adds up.

One day, Pricilla, a dear friend of mine, called me to give me the news: “Brad and I have decided to adopt two more children from Ukraine.”

“Two more children!” I responded.

They had already adopted two the previous year, one was two and the other was three years old. They both had lived in an orphanage since they were born and suffered with PTSD and other issues.

As a concerned friend, I asked, “Do you really think that is wise? You’ve already adopted two children. And I know what a handful they are. Pris, I know you are a great mother, and I know Brad is a good father, but don’t you think there are limits?

Pricilla responded by saying something like: “When it comes to love, Jarrett, I have discovered there are no limits. I really don’t believe you can ever run out of love. The more love you give… the more love you seem to have.”

The good news is: In God’s mathematics, that adds up! Go figure!

[1]Idea for “Mathematics of Jesus” in the Matthean Parables was derived from William H. Willimon, The New Math (PR (33/3; Inter Grove Heights, Minnesota: Logos Productions, Inc., 2005), 49.

[2]Bruce Metzger, ed. The New Oxford Annotated Bible (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 27 NT.

[3]Leander Keck, ed., New Testament Articles, Matthew, Mark, The New Interpreter’s Bible: A Commentary in Twelve Volumes, vol. 8 (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995), 379.

More Than Enough

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

Anthony Baptism

John 6:1-21 NRSV

It is believed that St. Francis of Assisi once said: “Preach the gospel at all times. When necessary use words.”

I believe the baptism of Anthony Truong preached this morning’s gospel lesson from John this morning without using a word.

People had gathered together “because of the signs that Jesus was doing for the sick”: for people who could not see, for people who could not hear, for people who could not talk, and for people who could not walk.

Then came a logistical conundrum.

Jesus said to Philip, “Where on earth are we going to buy enough bread to feed all of these people?”

“There’s just no way,” answered Philip. “Six months wages would not be enough to feed this crowd!”

Andrew spoke up and said, “But there’s this boy here!”

I like that. “But there’s this boy here. He has 5 loaves and two fish, but not enough to feed five thousand people.”

However, the good news is that although what the boy possessed did not seem like enough, with Jesus, it was actually more than enough!

After everyone ate (notice verse 11 and 12) “as much as they wanted” until they were “satisfied,” the left overs filled twelve baskets!

When Anthony expressed his desire to be baptized, we were also faced with a logistical conundrum.

Someone said: “How are you going to have enough strength to carry Anthony up and down those baptistery steps, baptize him, and then carry him back up and down so he can dry off, get dressed and be back in the service before communion. There’s just no way.”

I started thinking: “Maybe we could baptize him by pouring water on his his head; that way, he would not have to get into the baptismal pool.” So I asked Anthony. To which he responded and I quote, “No, I want to go all the way.”

So to the question of “how are you going to make this happen,” my answer is: “But there’s this boy here!”

“But there’s this boy here, and although the faith that he possesses may not seem like enough, I have a feeling that it is more than enough!”

As soon as the newsletter was emailed on Tuesday announcing the baptism, John Mundy, Steve Parke, Randy Alexander, and Dan Marshall immediately agreed to help with the baptism to make sure it was more than enough.

The good news is that this is exactly how our God loves to work in our world. When there seems to be no way, God loves to make a way. When it seems like it is not enough, God makes not just enough, but more than enough!

Our Hebrew lesson this morning from 2 Kings 4 illustrates this good news: During a famine a man brings the prophet Elisha a prophet’s tithe: Twenty loaves of bread and some fresh ears of grain in a sack.

Elisha accepts the tithe, but says, I want you to take this food and give it to the poor.

It is then the man points out the logistical conundrum: “But there’s just no way. There is not enough food here to set before a hundred people.”

But Elisha assures the man, “Because of your great faith in bringing this tithe during a famine, I have this feeling that it is more than enough.”

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

This good news was also experienced by Elisha’s predecessor Elijah.

In 1 Kings 17, the prophet Elijah is sent by the Lord to visit a woman widow in Zarephath who will feed him when he arrives.

When he comes to the gate of the town, just as the Lord had said, he meets a widow who is gathering a couple of sticks to build a fire for dinner. He called to her and said, “Pour me a glass of water. And while you are at it, bring me a morsel of bread.”

Confronted with a logistical conundrum that has life and death consequences, she said, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug.” In other words, “There’s just no way. I simply do not have enough for you in this famine.”

Elijah says: “Do not be afraid.”

Old Testament Professor Katherine Schifferdecker imagines her saying:

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

“Elijah said to her, ‘Do not be afraid; go and do as you have said; but first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterwards make something for yourself and your son” (1 Kings 17:13).

“How dare this man of God ask me for bread, knowing that I have so little? Who does he think he is, asking me for bread before I feed my own child? There’s no way. I told him that I have only “a handful of meal, a little oil, and a couple of sticks. There’s not enough. And Death waits at the door.”

Then the good news:

For thus says the Lord the God of Israel: The jar of meal will not be emptied and the jug of oil will not fail until the day that the Lord sends rain on the earth.’ She went and did as Elijah said, so that she as well as he and her household ate for many days. The jar of meal was not emptied, neither did the jug of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke by Elijah (1 Kings 17:14-16).

There was not only enough. There was more than enough.

Diagnosed with scoliosis, the doctors wanted to perform surgery when you were 12 years old. During the surgery you suffered a spinal stroke that left you paralyzed from the waist down. Some thought there was no way. They said, “there’s just not enough left.” But, you didn’t give up. You kept going. You kept fighting, and you kept living. You joined a wheelchair basketball league. You stayed in school. You went to church. And six years later you joined Ainsley’s Angels and completed a 5k and a 15k. Soon after that 15k, you ended back into the hospital for the second time with a severe infection. On a respirator for nearly three weeks, some feared there might not be enough antibiotics, love or faith to see you through. They feared you might be running out of sticks, your jar was almost empty, your jug was beginning to fail.

But the good news is that you came back, and you came back strong. You completed not one but three more 5ks. You enrolled in college. You joined a church. And this morning you were baptized symbolizing that not only did you have enough sticks, enough meal in you jar, enough oil in your jug, you had more than enough.

And the amazing news is that there are countless more stories just like Anthony’s in this room. Your marriage failed. Your son was killed. A child died. You lost your job. You lost a business. You lost your home. You became addicted to alcohol or drugs. You received a grim diagnosis. People said there was no way. They said you were all about out of sticks. However, you never lost your sense of gratitude. You kept the faith.  In the face of your suffering you continued to worship and thank God for the gift of life. Somehow, some miraculous way, your jar never emptied and your jug never failed, and you have always found that you always seem to possess a great big pile of sticks! And not just enough sticks, but more than enough.”

Not only does the baptism of Anthony this morning proclaim the text about Jesus having more than enough to feed 5,000 people, it also proclaims last part of our text about Jesus walking on water.

It was the Sunday after Hurricane Floyd flooded the first house Lori and ever purchased in eastern North Carolina. To say that we had a logistical conundrum would be making an understatement.

I had been wading in waist deep water that Thursday and all day Friday trying to salvage our possessions. And then on that Sunday morning, can you believe that one of the first things that I did was to climb down the steps of our baptistery into waist deep water to baptize a new member of the church?

I’ll never forget the first words I spoke. I looked out into the congregation from that baptistery, and I said, “You know, you would think that standing in waist deep water is the last place I would want to be this morning. However, it is actually the first place I need to be this morning!”

I then said: “Before today, baptismal water had always represented purity and refreshment to me. It was a water which cleansed one’s spirit and refreshed one’s soul. It was a renewing, invigorating water, life-giving water. However, on this particular Sunday, this water represents to me something more, something dreadful, something heinous, something sinister. This water symbolizes destruction, despair and death.”

I believe Paul understood the destructive forces of sin and evil in our world and that water was symbolic of of those chaotic forces. This is why he wrote to the church in Rome: ‘Remember that you have been buried with Christ by baptism into death.’

And this is why the picture of Jesus walking on water in the darkness amidst howling winds and crashing waves is so inspiring. Jesus was doing much more than walking on water. That would be enough in itself. Jesus was walking all over the forces of evil like they did not even exist. Which makes it more than enough.

This morning, Anthony, was buried with Jesus into death, and he rose from death into the newness of life, symbolizing that he will always have more than enough to conquer any storm, flood or chaotic force that might come his way.

And the good news is that God is still walking on water. God is still raising people up. God is still serving bread. God is still filling jars and replenishing jugs, and in God’s kingdom, the sticks that fuel the fire of the Holy Spirit never run out. So do not be afraid. Despite every logistical, physical or spiritual conundrum we face, there will always be enough. No, in God’s abundant mercy, there will always be more than enough. Thanks be to God.

 

Take a Vacation

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

Hammock

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56 NRSV

A couple of weeks ago, we were reminded that God does not work alone in this world, and God has never worked alone in this world. Since the beginning, God has always used human beings, very ordinary people, folks like you and me, to accomplish the divine purposes for this world: God’s work of healing and justice, grace and love, mercy and peace. God uses people like you and me and the unique gifts that God has given us to respond to the needs of a hurting world.

Last week, I called loving this world as Christ loves this world a “dance”—a dangerous dance of sacrificial, self-expending service. And I said that God is calling each of us to enter that dance, to get busy selflessly pouring ourselves out into the world

These texts of scripture from Mark 6 have come at just the right time as we are currently encouraging members of our congregation to sign up to serve on a ministry team. And during this next year, I expect us to be very busy disciples being a blessing in our community.

In this morning’s scripture lesson, we notice that Jesus and his disciples have also been very busy.

They had just returned from a mission trip where they were busy using their gifts for ministry. They came back and reported to Jesus “all that they had done and taught.”

And notice how Jesus responds. “Good, don’t stop! Let’s keep going! Let’s keep working!” No, he says: “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” In other words: “It’s time to take a vacation.”

Mark says that Jesus commanded this vacation because “many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.” So they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.

Sounds pretty good doesn’t it? Getting away on a boat, on some cruise to some far-off peaceful place!

But when they get there, it is anything but peaceful, and Jesus and his disciples are forced to spring into action once more to meet the needs of others.

Later, when they cross over to the other side of the lake (perhaps in one more attempt to get away from the crowds), the “people at once recognized him,” so Jesus and his disciples had to go right back to work. Because this is what Jesus’ disciples do. They work, they serve, they love their neighbors by meeting the needs of their neighbors.

Hopefully, as we answer the call of Jesus to do ministry here in our community, to follow the way of Jesus by being a people who are on the move, loving kindness and doing justice while walking humbly, we are going to be a very busy disciples.

But, here in this text, if we are truly going to be the people Jesus is calling us to be, I believe we must hear another call of Jesus. It is the call to relax, slow down, take it easy, take some time off, turn the cell phone off, forget your worries, and go somewhere and get away from it all. It is the call to take a vacation.

Now you are probably thinking: “Finally, something that Jesus commands me to do that I might be actually good at! Jesus says, ‘Relax, take a break, take a vacation.’ Sign me up right now!”

But I’m not so sure this is as easy as it sounds. For it has been my experience that it is the most sincere, dedicated, and earnest disciples who are the worst when it comes to honoring the Sabbath, taking time off to just rest.

But I believe honoring the Sabbath is something that is absolutely essential, not only for our bodies, but for our salvation.

I’m sure that we do not intend to do this, but our disregard of the Sabbath, our busyness and ceaseless activity, might give the impression that we believe that it is up to us to do good, or good will not be done. It is up to us the set the world right, or the world is lost. Behind our busyness may be the blasphemous belief that we are the saviors of the world; we are the solution to what ails the world, because we have all the answers.

The truth is, not taking a Sabbath and trusting that God is God and we are not, can be very dangerous, not only to ourselves, but to the world in which we live.

Thus, I hope that in my recent sermons you did not hear me say that God created the world, but has now left it entirelyup to us!

For our God not only created the world; our God is still creating. Our God not only sent and resurrected Jesus, but our God is still resurrecting, and is still sending God’s self to us through God’s Holy Spirit. Our God is not dead, inactive or ineffective. Contrary to our Deist founding fathers, our God did not create the universe and then go on some cosmic vacation.

And because of that, the good news is that we cango on vacation. Because God is continually acting, we can relish times of inactivity, reflection, and the good grace of doing absolutely nothing.

Now, I am by no means inferring that it is okay to sleep in on Sunday morning and skip church. For I believe here in this place, our Sunday worship can actually be a sacred time of rest.

While we do a lot of activity during this hour, little of it is useful, productive, or essential as the world defines these matters. We call this place a sanctuary. It is a safe-haven from our worries, an escape from the rat-race of life. We are here relaxing, resting, simply enjoying being with one another and with God.

Some, who I see nodding off when the sermon begins every Sunday may even relax here a little too much!

But I believe that’s okay. Because Christians have always believed that these Sunday mornings are a foretaste of eternity when we shall have nothing better to do but to rest from our labors, to relax, and enjoy being in the presence of God, not just one day a week on Sunday, but forever. Our destiny is rest in in the hands of God: Sabbath rest forever.

Sabbath rest is a great tribute to God. For it declares that our ultimate destiny is not in our hands. Our ultimate salvation is not the result of our vigorous, hard work, or even what we think is our good, holy work. The significance of our lives is in what God is doing, never in what we are doing.

Now, I know that this flies in the face of what I often preach; that church is where we come to get encouraged to make a commitment to pick up our crosses to serve God in this world. That’s why the last hymn we sing is called a hymn of commitment or a hymn response. It is a hymn of action. That’s why we end our services with a commissioning, as well as a benediction.

But church should also be a place of rest. We come here to celebrate not only what we have done, but to glorify what God has done in Christ, to rest assured in the grace of Christ.

One of my favorite preachers, Barbara Brown Taylor, reminds us that the commandment about the Sabbath is the longest of all the commandments. More is written about the Sabbath in the Hebrew Scriptures than any other commandment.

And she points out that the Sabbath is the only one of God’s creations called “holy.” Everything else is called “good.” Only the Sabbath is called “holy.” She points out that the sanctification of time preceded the sanctification of persons or the sanctification of places. People were not sanctified until they became the chosen people. Places were not sanctified until the Tabernacle was built. The Sabbath, however, was the first and truest medium of God’s presence and holiness.

This is why after Jesus’ disciples report to him all the good things that they have accomplished as his ministers in the world, Jesus invites them, permits them, commands them, to get away from the press of the crowds to relax, rejuvenate, and be restored.

We stress the other commands of Jesus: Love your neighbor, pray for your enemies, feed the hungry, heal the sick, free the oppressed. Why not equally stress the command to rest?

The good news for us this day is that Jesus commands us to take a vacation! The good news for us is that the good Shepherd wants to lay us down beside some still waters and restore our souls.

Do you know what would be a good idea? While we are encouraging every member to serve on a ministry team, what if we started a Sabbath ministry team that will help us all take a vacation! Seriously, let’s start a ministry team to plan a Caribbean or Alaskan cruise!

We can do God’s work as it is entrusted to us. We can work hard to be salt and light to the world. We can do justice. And then we can take a Sabbath, resting secure that the most important work is God’s work. Thank God that the world is not in our hands. The future is not solely ours to determine.

So, if you have not yet taken a vacation, gone some place to get away from it all, experienced a change in scenery, seen the ocean or climbed a mountain, taken a break from all of your work and worries, I hope that you will do it soon. After all, Jesus permits, invites, and commands us all to rest!