Tag: hope

A Word from the Lord

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

I Kings 17:8-16 NRSV

More than one person has reached out to me this week saying, “I hope you’ve been working on your sermon, because I really need to hear a word of hope and encouragement from you.”

But there’s a tiny little problem with that. I am not sure I have such a word, because after this week, I need someone to share a word of hope and encouragement with me.

What I need today, and what I believe you need, is not a word from a preacher. What we need today is a word from the Lord.

The good news is that is how our Hebrew Lesson this morning begins. In verse 8 we read:

The word of the Lord came to him.

Whenever I read a verse like this one, someone will inevitably comment: “I sure wished the Lord spoke to people today like God did back in the day.”

Well, I believe God is still speaking. The problem is we’re usually not listening.

The passage continues:

Go now to Zarephath and live there; for I have commanded a widow there to feed you when you arrive.

The good news is that the Prophet Elijah is listening. For he sets out and goes immediately to Zarephath.

And 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 supper. Elijah calls out to this one who has been commanded by the Lord to invite him to supper: “Will you pour me a glass of water? And while you’re at it, bring me a slice of bread?”

But she answers:

As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked. I have only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug.

Like many our nation today, maybe she wasn’t listening when the Lord commanded her to extend hospitality to strangers when they arrive at your border.

Or perhaps she heard the command. She just doubted the command. But maybe she didn’t so much doubt the command as she feared the command.

Perhaps she wanted to follow the command. She just didn’t feel like she was able, that she had any more to give. For she had fought so hard, given so much, only to have everything for which she worked for taken away.

Like us, the widow remembered more triumphant times: when freedom was won for the enslaved; opportunity won for immigrants; liberation won from fascism; civil rights won for minorities; reproductive rights were won for women; and civil rights and protections won for the LGBTQ community.

But now there’s a great famine in the land, and paralyzed by grief, the widow didn’t know how to follow the commands of the Lord. How could she keep giving? How could she continue loving? She had almost nothing left. She’s distraught and disillusioned, dejected and depleted. She didn’t see any way forward.

The last time she checked her pantry, she saw that she had only enough flour and oil to make one final meal for her and her family. Then, in the midst famine in the land, she knew that they would surely die.

Elijah then says something to the widow that many of us need to hear today. The prophet says: “Do not be afraid.”

But, there’s something patronizing, hollow, even offensive, about those words.

Hebrew Scripture Professor Katherine Schifferdecker imagines the widow responding:

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 supply of flour and oil relentlessly dwindle day-by-day, week-by-week, as the sun bakes the seed in the hard, parched earth. You’re not the one who has watched your beloved son slowly grow thinner and more listless.

In other words: the privileged audacity to tell me not to be afraid! You’re not a widow. You’ve never been devalued, been the victim of injustice or ever been this vulnerable.

We can hear her saying:

You’re not an immigrant. You’re not transgendered. You’ve never had anyone despise your very existence. You’re not poor. You don’t depend on Affordable Care or live on Social Security. You don’t live in Ukraine or Gaza or in states where women have fewer rights. You’ve never had to worry about being refused medical care and you have never feared dying from a miscarriage. You’ve never had to plead for your life to matter, only to get ridiculed for doing so. You’ve never been labeled “the enemy from within” or “the problem with the country.”

You’ve never walked in my shoes. You don’t know how many miles I have marched for liberty and justice. You don’t know how many friends I’ve lost, how many family members I’ve offended, the bullying I’ve endured, by standing on the side of those demeaned by sick religion and by a culture of greed. You don’t know all I’ve sacrificed. You’ve never felt my prayers of anguish and tears.

But Elijah says to her once more: ‘Do not be afraid; go and bake a little cake and bring it to me, and afterwards bake something for yourself and your son’ (1 Kings 17:13).

Schifferdecker continues:

How dare this prophet of God ask me for cake, knowing that I have so little? Who does he think he is, asking me for bread before I feed my own? 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 my door.

Then the good news, a word from the Lord comes:

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.’

When you are knocked down and can’t see any path forward, when you feel like we have nothing left to give, if you can somehow, someway summon the courage to rise up to continue following the difficult and risky commands of the Lord, loving courageously and giving generously, if you dare to step outside our comfort zones to follow the steps of the Lord, you can be assured that “Your jar will not be emptied, and your jug will not fail.”

 So, she got up, maybe hesitantly, perhaps fearfully, but that didn’t matter.The only thing that mattered was that she got up and faithfully followed the Lord’s command. And she 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).Do you hear it? Are you listening? It’s a word from the Lord.

 Maybe we hear it, but we are still doubting it, still fearing it.

 Following the commands of Jesus these days is just too dangerous. We need to play it safe. Focus inward. Get out of from politics. Stay away from trouble.

As sure as the Lord God lives, it’s too risky to speak truth to power. We can’t continue to call out their lies and their greed, their stoking the fires of fear, their fanning the flames of hate, their sowing the seeds of vulgarity, division, and violence.

As sure as the Lord God lives, we just don’t have enough power now to fight for the rights of women which have been stripped away, the rights of immigrants threatened with deportation, or fight for the rights of transgendered people, that those with all the power now, want to erase.

Have you heard the news? Do you know what is going on? There’s an anti-Christ spirit gripping our land! As sure as the Lord God lives…

We can’t afford put the needs of others over our own when it is more popular to serve only ourselves.

We can’t identify with the least when it is more popular to scapegoat them for all the country’s problems.

We can’t welcome the immigrant when it is more popular to dehumanize and deport them.

We can’t be peacemakers when it is more popular to support a militia.

We can’t preach loving our enemies when it is more popular to call for their executions.

We can’t care for our environment when it is more popular to scoff at science.

We can’t mention words like “racism,” “sexism,” “Antisemitism,” “Islamophobia,” and “transphobia” when it is more popular to hate.

We can’t support affordable healthcare, fair living wages and access to equitable education when it is more popular to do the exact opposite.

We can’t follow Jesus these days when it is more popular to just worship Jesus.

We simply don’t have enough left to follow the risky commands of the Lord.

We don’t have enough sticks to lose ourselves.

There’s not enough meal in the jar to deny ourselves.

And there’s not enough oil in the jug to even think about picking up a cross.

When morale is low and our sticks are about to run out, when we can see the bottom of the jar, and we’re squeezing mere drops from the jug, the grace of Jesus seems too extravagant, the mercy of Jesus too generous, and the love of Jesus too gracious. The light that Jesus commands us to shine takes too much energy and involves too much risk! And we are afraid we just don’t have what it takes.

We doubt such light. We question such light. We fear such light.

Our defense mechanisms are telling us that, right now, it’s best to keep the light hid, out of sight, tucked away under a bushel. Fear tells us to take down the flag, get off the internet, and retreat behind locked doors.

But then comes a word from the Lord.

Are we listening?

When an anti-Christ spirit possesses the nation;

and we’re tempted to believe we do not have enough sticks to keep the fire burning;

that we need to retreat into the sanctuary;

that we need to accept a personal, private Jesus, keep him deep down our hearts and out of the public square;

that we need to be tightfisted with grace, scrimp on mercy, and be stingy with love;

Behold, we hear a word from the Lord:

“Do not be afraid. Because when you follow the commands of God, your jar will never be emptied and your jug will never fail, and as long as you are working for justice, you will always have a great big pile of sticks!”

There’s no number of bomb threats from Russia, no amount of misinformation from Elon, no amount of lies on Fox News, no amount of false prophets in our churches, bullies on the city council, or fascism in the White House, that will  ever empty your jar.

There’s no amount of hate in Congress, meaness in the Senate, and Christian Nationalism on the Supreme Court, that will ever cause your jug to fail!

There’s no new policy, no executive order, no tweet, and no political rally that will ever deplete your basket of sticks!

In the Second chapter of Kings, we read about a man who 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 100 people who who are very poor.

The man responds: “But there’s just no way. There is not enough food here to set before a hundred people.”

But then comes a word from the Lord: “Because of your great faith in giving to the Lord during this time of scarcity, I have this feeling that there’s is going to be more than enough.”

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

Just like they had after the disciples fed 5,000 people with a few loaves and a couple of fish.

Just like I am sure they had had after Jesus turned water into all that delicious wine!

Just like I am sure they had after the father welcomes the prodigal son home with that extravagant dinner party!

The good news is that God is still speaking today. God is still filling jars and replenishing jugs, and in God’s kingdom, the sticks that fuel the fire of the Holy Spirit are renewable resources!

So, let’s listen up! Don’t doubt, and don’t be afraid!

Let’s follow the commands of the Lord. Let’s love generously, love extravagantly, and love graciously! Let’s deny ourselves. Take up a cross. Take a risk. Continue to put the needs of others ahead of our own. Let’s make some folks uncomfortable. Be willing to lose a friend. All the while being kind, doing justice, walking humbly, speaking truth to power, preaching good news to the poor, and proclaiming freedom to the oppressed.

Let’s show the world that hope will never be silent, faith will never fade, and love will never cower.

Because, although we may think we don’t have what it takes, there is enough. There will always be enough.

No, in God’s abundant mercy, there will always be more than enough.

This is the word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

A Vision of Heaven

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

Revelation 21:1-6a

Well, as someone who loves you and is concerned for your well-being, I need to ask you, “How are you doing?”

“Well, preacher, how do you think we are doing!”

“We are living in some very uncertain days. These are some very dark times. We are living in the shadow of grief and despair. Our entire future is in doubt. We are anxious, as there is so much to fear. People have rejected the gospel, the good news towards the poor, the immigrant, all who live on the margins.

And there’s this narcissistic, authoritarian tyrant in our land. And people we know and love, are bowing down to him. They are not just defending him, but they seem to worship him. He spews hate, and the people cheer! He threatens anyone who is against him, and the people love it!”

Of course, I am talking about Caesar Domitian, that ruthless ruler of the Roman Empire who persecuted Christians in the first century. And I’m imagining a conversation between the Christians who lived during that time in Ephesus, and a concerned preacher named John, the author of the beautiful letter of hope that we call Revelation.

Imprisoned on the island of Patmos for offending the powers-that-be by preaching the inclusive good news of the gospel, John writes a powerful letter of encouragement in which he describes the divine culmination of all that is, a heavenly vision to hold out for and to work towards—a beautiful vision of a new heaven and a new earth and a holy city; where, in the end, all who thirst for peace and justice and love will drink from the spring of the water of life.

Now, to be honest (in a way that may be offensive to some), the promise of going to heaven one day to live forever and ever and ever and ever has not always been appealing to me. I have never desired to live in a mansion or walk on streets of gold. Because I seek to follow Jesus who intentionally identified with the poor, such opulence turns my stomach.

Floating on a cloud playing a harp for all of eternity has never sounded like good times to me. Furthermore, I have always been leery of Christians who seem to make going to heaven one day the whole point of what it means to be a Christian. That sounds rather selfish to me. And when I consider the selflessness of Jesus, the words and works of Jesus, I believe that type of theology misses the whole point of what Christianity is all about.

Consequently, I believe the vision of heaven in Revelation (while it might be our eternal home) it’s not so much our future home, as it is our present purpose. It’s not so much our final destination, as it is our daily goal. It’s not so much where we are going when we die, as it is what we are called to create while we are alive. It’s God’s vision of what the world should be, could be, and will be. It’s the vision of the kingdom of God that we seek to prophetically proclaim. It’s the vision of life that we are praying for and working toward until it fully and finally comes on earth as it is in heaven.

It is the vision we are called to live into no matter the outcome of Tuesday’s election, as we know that the status quo is not the divine destiny. The current darkness of hate and division, even if it grows darker, is not the holy purpose that God is calling every human to and leading the entire creation toward.

What does heaven, this holy purpose look like?

We are called to live into a vision of a world where no one is thirsting for their lives to matter, where no one is treated as second-class or is ever called “garbage.” In the twenty-second chapter, in rich, symbolic language we read that the water of life which quenches all thirst is a mighty river flowing, bright as crystal, from the very throne of God, accessible to all in the middle of the holy city’s main street!

What does heaven look like?

On both sides of the river, again, accessible to all, we read there is a tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, and the leaves on the trees have the power to heal the nations, bringing an end to all war and violence, greed and oppression, sickness and disease.

What does heaven look like?

We continue reading that nothing accursed will be there. There will be no more hate; no more bigotry; no more ugliness; no more name-calling; no more racism and sexism; nothing that is vile, foul, or evil.

What does heaven look like?

Here’s my favorite part: Heaven looks like the servants of Christ, all the saints of God, gathered around the throne worshipping together. The good news is that we don’t have to only imagine heaven or just read about heaven. The good news is that we have seen heaven. We have experienced heaven.

For what does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like Coretha Loughridge. Heaven looks like a saint who faithfully and courageously lived into the vision of heaven as she answered a call to ministry during a time when most believed that God only calls men to such a vocation. Undeterred by the prevailing sexism of the culture and attacks from misogynistic bullies in the church, Coretha not only faithfully served as a pastor and as a regional minister, she taught, modeled, and exemplified the radical inclusivity that we see worshipping around the throne in Revelation, encouraging countless other women to follow in her steps.

And the good news is this saint of God, is still encouraging and still inspiring the church to stand up today for the rights of women in a patriarchal religious culture where men seek to subjugate women, objectify women, control women, tell women what they need, whether they like it or not.

What does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like Dorothy Watkins. Heaven looks like this saint who lived into the vision of heaven by teaching us that when grief casts a dark shadow in our world, when the dark clouds of despair appear our world, when it seems impossible see any path forward, we can carry on knowing that the darkness will not overcome us.

Dorothy became well-acquainted grief at a very young age when she experienced the untimely death of her father who died when he was only 34 years-old and was subsequently sent to live in an orphanage. Then as an adult, Dorothy lost her husband, like her father, before he turned 40. She later lost her stepson Daniel, and then lost her granddaughter Christy in a tragic car accident.

The miracle was that though the darkness overshawdowed her, it did not defeat her. With faith Dorothy persevered, as evidenced through her selfless service with Fairview Christian, Euclid Christian and First Christian Church, and through her dedicated work as an accountant with Herb Moore and the Lynchburg Covenant Fellowship. Dorothy’s light shined in the darkness teaching us that no matter how dark the world seems, faith will not be dimmed. Hope will not fade. And love will never die.

What does heaven look like?

Heaven looks like Linda Cox. After teaching for Lynchburg Public Schools, Linda and Bryan moved to Northern Virginia in 1974 for Bryan’s new job. At the time, public schools were not hiring, so she interviewed for a teaching position at the Catholic School where she was asked how she felt about teaching black kids. Linda’s response was beautiful, saying: “kids are kids.”

“Kids are kids” –a simple, but at the same time, a profound vision that is perhaps most needed in a world where there are powers that seek to divide us and keep us afraid of one another. A beautiful, holy vision needed today where the children of God are dehumanized, referred to as “vermin,” “an infestation,” “dogs,” “aliens,” “low-IQ,” “low-life,” “bimbo, “human scum,” or “theys” who are “poisoning the blood of our country.”

I love how Revelation describes the divine human destiny. In Revelation 7, we read where every person is present—all nations, all tribes, all races, and all languages. Puerto Ricans are there. Haitians are there. Mexicans are there. Venezuelans are there. Palestinians are there. All ethnicities, all languages, all people are there, and all means all.

What does heaven look like?

Our holy purpose looks like diversity, equity, and inclusion. Our divine destiny that we are praying for, working toward, and fighting to create, is a world where “kids are kids” and there not distinction between male and female, Jew and Gentile, slave and free, as all are one. Our present purpose is what Jesus taught, modeled, and embodied, and it is what the saints of God we remember this day lived.

And now, as someone who loves you and is concerned for your well-being, (it’s me now, not John) I need to ask you, “How are you doing?”

“Well, preacher, with a holy vision of a new heaven and new earth, how do you think we are doing!

We are living in some uncertain days. These are some very dark times, but our future is not in doubt, thus we have nothing to fear. For our hope has been revealed. We’ve seen our destiny. We have been shown our purpose. We have heard our calling; thus, echoing the words of Bishop Steven Charleston, a Native American elder and citizen of the Choctaw Nation, whose people have endured days much darker than we have:

When they hate, we will love!

When they curse, we will bless!

When they hurt, we will heal!

Because we are servants of the light!

And we are not afraid of the darkness.

We will carry on with our work as stewards of the Earth and all her children.

When they divide, we will unite!

When they rage, we will calm!

When they deny, we will affirm!

We will simply be who we are, for that is what the Spirit has created [and destined] us to be.”

Amen.

 

Commissioning and Benediction

Envisioning the divine destiny of this world, having received a revelation that the saints of God have shared and share this day, may our faith, hope and love be a beacon for others who feel as though darkness has engulfed them.

Let’s go and be who we are, the people the God has created, Christ has called, and the Spirit has destined and is leading us to be. Amen.

A Prophetic Response to School Shootings

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

Isaiah 35:4-7 NRSV

It was around 600 BC when a dystopian 1930’s-like dictator named Nebuchadnezzar was on a mission to make Babylon great again by building and renovating tall buildings. His armies invaded and occupied Assyria, Egypt, and Palestine, destroying Jerusalem. Judah had three kings during Nebuchadnezzar’s reign who were either taken as hostages or killed. The entire territory was desolated, and the Jewish people were exiled.

I imagine it was difficult, if not impossible, for those in exile to see any light in the darkness. And it was easy for them to resign themselves to the belief that things could not and would not get any better, to acquiesce to despair.

It is in this fearful time and dark place that a prophet named Isaiah reminds people of faith that they are called to speak out proclaiming words of courage to those with fearful hearts (Isaiah 35:4).

The phrase “those with fearful hearts” only scratches the surface in describing the people’s despair. Anathea Portier-Young, Professor of Old Testament at Duke Divinity School, points out that a more literal reading the Hebrew language is: “ones whose hearts are racing.” Isaiah calls people to proclaim a word of hope to people “whose hearts are racing.”

Perhaps we have all experienced something of what this professor describes when she writes:

The heart races. A hormone we call adrenaline or epinephrine courses through the bloodstream. It stimulates muscles, directs blood-flow, and accelerates metabolism. At the same time, it causes the senses to close in — the field of vision narrows and the world becomes strangely quiet. It is a stress response. It might energize the body for battle, or to run away. Or it might mimic paralysis.[i]

The Jewish people who had been terrorized by Nebuchadnezzar and forced into exile certainly knew something about this.

And today, the students and faculty of Apalachee High School, along with their families and friends in Georgia, tragically know something about this, along with every child in our country who has experienced active shooter drills teaching them to first run, then to hide, and then to fight, when someone with a gun comes to the school.

Every parent who has a school-aged child and every person who has a heart, knows something about a racing heart every time we are alerted with breaking news of another senseless school shooting.

And, like the Jewish people in exile, it has become difficult, if not impossible, to see any light in the darkness. We acquiesce to the despair, calling it “the new normal.” Even people of faith have no faith that things in this life can be any better, thus many have placed all of their faith and hope in an afterlife.

The only reason many folks are in church this morning is to make preparations to leave this God-forsaken earth for heaven, not to be inspired to do something to bring heaven to earth.

So today, perhaps more than ever, we need to hear a prophetic word, at least as much as the Jews in exile needed such a word. We need to hear someone like Isaiah calling faithful people to stand up to proclaim some prophetic good news to those today whose hearts are racing.

To understand the prophetic word that people of faith are called to proclaim today, it might be helpful talk about what the prophet does not say we are to proclaim.

Isaiah does not say: “Tell those with racing hearts that you are sending them your thoughts and prayers.”

Isaiah does not say: “Tell those with racing hearts that you hate what happened, but such evil is just ‘a fact of life.’”

Isaiah does not say: “Tell those with racing hearts that we live in a dangerous world full of ‘sick and deranged monsters,’ and instead of making common-sense laws to prevent them from attaining weapons of war, we actually need to make such weapons more accessible, even to our children, to protect us from the danger.”

The prophet doesn’t say: “Tell them that this is just the way it is, and things are not going to get any better, so we just need to accept it. Gun violence will always be the number one cause of childhood death in our country. We had 1,708 mass shootings last year, and we can expect more next year. This is the new normal, and there’s really nothing we can do about it, except to arm ourselves, lock our doors, continue to put our children through active shooter drills, maybe get them some bullet-proof back-packs, and display the Ten Commandments in classrooms.”

And Isaiah doesn’t say anything close to: “Tell the people that the reason they live in so much fear is because they have taken God out of their schools.”

In fact, the prophet says the exact opposite.

The prophet says:

Have courage and take heart because God is here, right here. God is coming to put things right and redress all wrongs. (Isaiah 35:4 The Message).

What bothers me the most about the state of the church today is not that the church has a difficult time articulating the prophetic good-news. It is not that it has clouded or even lost the message. What troubles me the most is that the church often proclaims a message that is the exact opposite of the good news that we are called to share, the antithesis of everything that the prophets proclaimed and Jesus taught, modeled and embodied.

Instead of loving our neighbors, we preach take care of yourself.

Instead of welcoming the stranger, we preach building a wall.

Instead of healing the sick, we preach denying their healthcare.

Instead of forgiving the sinner, we preach throwing rocks.

Instead of treating the poor like they are blessed, we preach treating them like they are cursed.

Instead of standing up for the marginalized, we preach calling them abominations.

We choose to favor the rich over the poor, greed over generosity, judgment over forgiveness, selfishness over sacrifice. We choose to embrace a lie and reject the truth. We choose the arrogant, the proud, the condescending and the self-important, while rejecting anyone who comes close to embracing a way of service and humility.

And instead of protecting our children, we’d rather protect our second amendment right.

Instead of sharing hope in God’s restorative justice, we’d rather share gloom and doom, hell, fire, and brimstone.

The message we proclaim is the exact opposite of the message of the prophets and Jesus. And this is why I don’t hesitate to say that the message that is proclaimed by many churches today is “anti-Christ.”

Anne chose to read this prophetic passage this morning using The Message translation of the Hebrew, because the NRSV translation we usually read translates the Hebrew word naqam into the English word “vengeance.” Verse 4 reads in the NRSV: “God will come with vengeance.”

Like Anne, I have a difficult time linking “vengeance” with the good news of God’s presence. To be honest, I almost chose not to preach this passage this morning when I first read it in the NRSV, as I choose to believe that God’s dealings with creation is restorative, rather than retributive.

This is why it is always good to take a close look at the original language when studying scripture. Biblical scholar Hendrik Peels points out that the Hebrew word translated “vengeance” in the NRSV literally means “the restoration of justice.” Thus, the meaning of the word is closer to what we call “restorative justice.” It means setting things right.

Isaiah is calling faithful people to proclaim to those with racing hearts: “Have hope for God has not abandoned you. This world is not God-forsaken. God is here with you, and God’s restorative justice is on its way. God is here working in our world, creating and recreating. God is addressing and redressing everything that is wrong in the world making it right.

Isaiah is saying to tell the people with fearful, racing hearts: “Be greatly encouraged for violence is not the new normal. Resignation to despair is not a fact of life. It does not have to be this way! For God is here! Justice has arrived! Love is coming, and love will win!”

With rich poetic language, the prophet says to the people with racing hearts: “Eyes that have been blinded will be opened.”

I hear:

Eyes that have been blinded by selfishness and greed will be opened! because I know that some of God’s people, some faithful disciples, who are shining a light.

Deaf ears that are unable to hear voices of mercy and peace will be unstopped! because I know some of God’s people who are proclaiming the truth.”

People who are feel paralyzed and powerless to bring about change will leap like deer all the way to the ballot box! because I know some disciples who are out in the streets preaching hope.”

Tell the people with racing hearts that those whose voices have been silenced by the loudness of hate, fear and privilege will break into song! Because followers of Jesus are going to be louder. Voices will be raised demanding that legislators enact common sense laws to protect all people society, especially those who are most vulnerable.

Tell the people with racing hearts that justice is coming like springs of water bursting forth in a wilderness! Streams of justice will flow in the desert!” because people are answering the call to heed the message of the prophets and to follow the non-violent, peace-making way of Jesus. People are speaking out passionately and prophetically with beautiful words of hope and transformation.

We are prophetically proclaiming to the people that when the scriptures talk about being born again, it applies to the entire creation!

“Hot sands will become a cool oasis and thirsty ground a splashing fountain, and even the jackals, even creatures regarded as lowliest of creatures, will have fresh water to drink. Barren grasslands will even flourish richly!”

Because no matter how bad things seem, we will never give out while working as God’s prophetic agents of restorative justice in this world. We will never give in to the darkness that surrounds us, and we will never give up on love and the power that it has to transform the world!

[i] https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-23-2/commentary-on-isaiah-354-7a-3

A New Teaching

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year B2 Comments

Mark 1:21-28 NRSV

My first-grade teacher, Mrs. Banks, will always be remembered as one of my favorite teachers. And it is not because she had such a cool last name or that was one of my very first teachers. It is also not because of the wonderful lessons that she taught me. Because, the truth is, I do not remember a single lesson. Mrs. Banks will always be remembered as my favorite teacher, because during that school year when I spent some time in the hospital to have my tonsils removed, she came to see me. She came to my hospital room and brought me cards hand-made by my classmates with construction paper.

It is not the words of the teacher that I fondly remember today. I remember her actions.

Mark writes that people in the synagogue were amazed at the power of Jesus’ teaching. “They kept asking one another: ‘What is this? It’s a new teaching with authority!’” But notice that Mark does not mention any words. There is no mention by Mark of even a hint of the content of Jesus’ lesson or even one point from his sermon. For Mark, it is not the words, but the authoritative action of the teacher that is important. Perhaps this is what made Jesus’ teaching so “new.”

Throughout Mark’s gospel, Jesus is continually identified by Mark using the word, “teacher.” And we are quick to learn that Jesus is a different kind of “teacher.”

In chapter four, Mark says that the “teacher” stills a storm. In chapter five, the “teacher” raises a dead girl to life.

In chapter six, the “teacher” feeds a hungry crowd.

In chapter nine, the “teacher” cures an epileptic.

 In chapter eleven, the “teacher” curses a fig tree.

And here in our text this morning, the “teacher” is the one who exorcises a demon in the synagogue. Jesus is a different kind of teacher, an authoritative teacher, because Jesus is continually putting the Word of God into action. Jesus is continually on the move, working and reworking, creating and recreating, restoring, renewing, reviving, healing, saving, transforming, acting.

Although, we modern, well-educated, well-informed folks who believe in psychology and science would rather ignore this demon in our story, I do think it is important for us to notice the location of this demon in our gospel lesson this morning. It’s not in all those places that some would expect to find demons today. This demon is sitting on a pew. I do believe that the sad reality of this fragmented world is that evil is real and evil is present and evil is personal and evil is experienced in all places, even in the church, sometimes, especially in the church.

I believe the church is afflicted with a number of demons today, but the one that perhaps concerns me the most is this demon of “defeatism.”

Defeatism: We have too many people in the church who have just accepted the evil in this world as normative. We’ve given up that things in this world can get better, that we as a people can do better, be better, or in other words, we’ve stopped believing that “demons can be exorcized.”

People leave church on Sunday to show up at the polls on Tuesday for an unstable politician who brazenly look into the camera and stokes fear, xenophopia, misogyny, and racism. The gap between the super rich and the super poor in our world continues to widen; women and transgendered people are denied healthcare; the poor are not given living wages; public education is undermined; affordable housing is not available; the environment continues to suffer; wars continue to wage; gun violence is everywhere, and we in the church sit back and say that there’s just nothing we can do about it. “This is just the way things are.” “It is what it is.” “This is the new normal.”  Or worse, we say something like: “Thank God the Lord is coming back soon.”

Some in the church actually have the audacity to call this defeatism, “faith”; instead of calling it what it really is: “demonic.”

I believe the point Mark wants us to hear is that this new, unprecedented teaching of Jesus has the authoritative power today and takes authoritative action today over the evil that afflicts our world. Mark wants us to know that although evil surrounds us, although we are tempted to believe that things are only going to get worse, a teacher is coming, and he is coming not with mere words, but with authoritative, imminent action today for a more just, more equitable and more peaceful tomorrow.

When this teacher comes and teaches us that there is hope, he is not just “whistling in the dark” or “grasping at straws.”  He is not coming on some “wing and a prayer” “wishing upon a star.” He is not coming with mere words and tiresome clichés. He is coming taking authoritative action.

The teacher does not come with a mere history lesson of God’s past actions but comes beckoning us to see what God is actively doing in our world today and will do in our world tomorrow.

As one of my favorite preachers, the late John Claypool has said, Jesus comes teaching us that our faith is and has always been “a faith of promise; never a faith of nostalgia. Our faith is always looking forward; never backward.”

Our faith never sulks, pouts, or grumbles for the good old days, but always marches for, works for, fights for, and anticipates good new days.

When someone comes to see me who has just been diagnosed with cancer or another dreadful disease; or has just lost their job, their income; or has just lost their spouse to death, or worse, to separation or divorce; or has been afflicted in any number of ways; and I say to them “it is going to be ok,” I am not simply saying “cross your fingers” and “hope for the best,” or even saying something like “there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”

I am saying with the authority of God, the creator of all that is, the One who has been revealed in Holy Scriptures and in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, that things are going to be better.

Because our faith that is rooted in the Holy Scriptures is one that has always, and will always, draw us into better days.

When God first approached human beings, it was never from behind (“Hey you, turn around, come back here”), but it was always from out ahead, out in the future, promising, beckoning.

God came to Abraham and Sarah in their old age with a promise. God came promising that they would one day father and mother a nation. And you know something? Abraham and Sarah did the very same thing that some of you do when I tell you that things are going to be ok. They laughed. They scoffed: “We are much too old to have any future.”

God came to Moses showing him that he would lead Israel into the Promised Land. And Moses responded the same way some of you do, the same way Abraham and Sarah responded: “Nah; not me!  You know that simply don’t have what it takes to have such a future.”

But we know the rest of the story, don’t we? We know the rest of their stories, but we also know the rest of some of our own stories. No, Abraham, Sarah and Moses, nor any of us, had what it takes, but thank God that God did. And God acted. We look back at our afflictions, where we have been, and how far we have come, what we have gained through the storms, and we say something miraculous like, “If I could go back and change anything in my life, I don’t believe I would change a thing.”

This is why we point to our God in a very different manner than people of other faiths point to their God. When we are asked: “Where is your God?” we should never say “Back there,” or “in here,” or even “up there.” Rather we should point straight into the future and say: “My God is out there, pulling me into a better tomorrow!”

This is the teaching that Jesus puts into action, and this is the teaching that he calls all of us to put into action.

It is why we make a commitment to teach our children the stories of faith through Worship and Wonder. It is what compels us to help prepare impoverished children for kindergarten. It is what propels us to volunteer at Park View Mission. It is what drives us to join a movement like One Home One Future.

It is what propels some of you to volunteer at the hospital, visit a nursing home, send a card, or make a phone call to someone who is hurting. And hopefully it is what has brought you to be a part of this church, this movement for wholeness in our fragmented world, this blessed place of love and inclusion and it is what will send you out to be a blessing in all places.

For our God is a God of promise—A God of hope who is made known more in actions than in words.

I believe this explains the conversation I had with a colleague who was under the care of hospice just days before her death.

She talked about her life. She talked about how good God had been to her in the past. She talked about her service through the church alongside her husband. Then she began to talk about her present situation and about the cancer that had returned and had spread throughout her body. She talked about her pain. She said she knew that she had days and not weeks left on this earth. She talked about how difficult her death was going to be for her family, for her husband and children. Then she said with this special smile that I will never forget, “But I’m fine! I am going to be fine!”

She was going to be fine because her God, whom she knew through her teacher, Jesus Christ, had never approached her from behind. But always from out ahead, out in the future, always promising, always beckoning, always acting, transforming, renewing, restoring, resurrecting. Her God was never back there, somewhere in the distant past, but her God was out there, always assuring her that her best days of living, her best days of life, were ahead of her.

In what she knew to be her last few days on this earth, she had miraculously been taught to say, “I’m fine. I’m going to be fine.”

Aren’t we all?

Holding Christmas Hope

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Advent and Christmas, Sermons Year B2 Comments

Luke 2:22-40 NRSV

One of the great wonders of church is the surprises. Our worship on Christmas Eve certainly had one, as probably, for the very first time for all who had gathered, as Erin Gresham read from John 1 about the light coming into the world that the darkness could not overcome, a rather exuberant bat invaded the service.

Now, you may not know this, but in seminary, they don’t teach you what to do or say when that happens. So, instead of singing “What Child Is This” with the congregation before Holy Communion, I just stood at the table racking my brain for the right words to say as I watched people in the back of the sanctuary, unsuccessfully and rather comically, trying to shoo the bat out by frantically waving their jackets at the bat to chase it out the door, but I didn’t want to say anything that may illicit some laughter that might interfere with the seriousness of the moment.

So, I just kept leading the service as planned, ducking at least once as the bat swooshed towards the chancel. It was a crazy scene, really. We just lit our candles and sang Silent Night like it had never happened or that it happens all the time. I guess we proved the words Erin read to be true, that our lights were going to shine in the darkness, and nothing, not even a crazy bat, was going be able to stop it!

But that’s the thing with church, you never know when you will be surprised or shocked by what goes on here! You are tired and not feeling your best, but you get up and come to church anyway. You may come more out of duty than desire. You come not really expecting anything surprising from what is certain to be a just another predictable service. You come fully expecting to leave the same way you came, unmoved, untouched, unchanged. But then, out of nowhere something happens that astonishes you: someone unexpectedly hugs you; a song you’ve sung a thousand times before astounds you; a word you’ve heard countless times startles you. God, in spite of everything, in spite of you, and even in spite of the preacher that day, speaks. And everything, including you, your whole world, is amazingly transformed. A simple handshake brings healing. A smile from an unassuming child generates hope. A tiny cracker and a sip of juice become more than sufficient.

Simeon had arrived to worship in the Temple as he had for many decades. He was as devoted to the Lord as anyone. For years, he had been eagerly coming to the Temple expecting to be surprised by the presence of the Messiah; however, year after year he left each service disappointed.

It was just another ordinary Sabbath. Old Simeon was tired and give-out. Over the years, much of his anticipation had turned into doubt. But he got up and came to Temple anyway, more out of duty than desire, knowing that he would probably once again leave the service unmoved, untouched, and unchanged.

He came in through the front door, nodded politely to the usher who handed him an Order of Service that he had all but memorized, and settled in his usual seat for another predictable service. During the Prelude, he opened the bulletin and noticed that there was going to be another baby dedication service. As was their custom several times during the year, the minister was going to once again ask the congregation to bless a newborn baby. Nothing unusual. Simeon had seen this a hundred times before.

After the Prelude and the Chiming of the Hour, the Call to Worship the Invocation, and a hymn, this strange new couple unexpectedly came down the aisle holding a tiny baby. They were coming for the baby dedication service. And then, out of nowhere, it happened.

Simeon cannot explain how he knew it, but he knew it, nonetheless. This was it! He could not keep his eyes off that baby during the prayers for the child and the parents, for he knew without a doubt that this was the Messiah, the Promised One God sent to save Israel.

In the middle of the dedication service, he grabbed the back of the pew in front of him with both of his hands and slowly pulled himself up to stand on his tired feet. Holding on to the pew in front of him, he shuffled past three people who were sitting beside him and made his way down the aisle to the front where the new parents were standing. Then he had the courage, some would say the audacity, to ask the parents if he could hold the tiny baby. The old man must have looked harmless enough, for Mary and Joseph handed the old gentleman their firstborn son without hesitation.

Again, Simeon cannot explain how he knew it, but he knew that he was holding more than a baby in his arms that morning. Astoundingly, he was holding hope in his arms. Amazingly, he was holding salvation in his arms. Surprisingly, he was holding none other than Christmas in his arms, Simeon had crossed off in his mind the only thing that was ever on his bucket list and started praising God saying:

‘Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.’

This is the wonder of this thing called church. When we least expect it, God shows up and surprises us. We perform an ordinary ritual, like a Child Dedication Service, and something extraordinary happens that changes us forever.

Mary and Joseph showed up with their baby asking the likes of old men like Simeon to bless their newborn baby, and the child ends up blessing Simeon.

 We may have thought we knew what we were doing here this morning. We thought our friends Kevin and Elaine Lindmark were coming to merely present their daughter, Leighton Annette and Shanaya and Aili Barricklow-Young were merely presenting their daughter Feyre Elaine.  Wee thought they were coming to ask us, their family of faith, to take them in our church’s arms and bless them—Bless them by promising to teach them the faith, to share our knowledge of the way of love Jesus taught his disciples with them.

But, to our surprise, what if it is the other way around?

What if we are not here this morning to bless Feyre and Leighton, but Feyer and Leighton are actually here to bless us? Now, I know we are not Simeon and they are not the Messiah; however, it was the Messiah who had this to say about children like these: “Let the little ones come to me, for to such as these, belong the Kingdom of God” (Luke 18:16).

I believe this means that these little ones have more to teach us about the ways of God than we could ever possibly teach them. I believe this means that they and the other children whom God has given us are not the future of the church, but they are the church’s present. Surprisingly, they have much to give the church today. Unexpectedly, even as young and as they are, have much to teach the church this very moment.

For example, Feyre and Leighton will never be more vulnerable, more dependent than they are right now. And because of this, they may never have more to teach us. For hey teach us that if the church is going to look like the Kingdom of God, then the church must continually reach out, invite, bring in, accept and adopt, and care for those in our society who are the most vulnerable, the most dependent.

         They teach us that we are to feed those who cannot feed themselves, give drink to those you cannot drink on their own, clothe, shelter, comfort those in need, and love those who are the most frail, fragile and needy.

Feyre and Leighton affirm our support of Our Daily Bread, Miriam’s House, Parkview Mission, The Free Clinic and Interfaith Outreach. Teaching us that we come the closest to living in the Kingdom of God, we come the closest to holding the Messiah in our arms, when we offer grace and hope to the least of these.

However, they also teach us something that may be even more important. The Messiah once said: “Unless one comes to me as a little child, they cannot enter the Kingdom of God.”  Leighton and Feyre may never be more honest, more real, and more genuine than they are today. What you see is what you get. There is no putting on airs with them. They are not proud. There’s not a pretentious bone in their tiny bodies. When they are hungry, they are going to let us know. When they are distressed, saddened or in any discomfort, they are going to tell us. When they need a change, they will cry out to us.

If we could only learn to be as honest as these little ones: honest with each other, and honest with God. Because before we can truly offer grace and hope to others; I believe we must confess our own need for grace and hope. We must confess our own dependency on God and on others. We must confess our own weaknesses, our need of a Savior who knows such vulnerability, to pick us up, to comfort us and to change us in those places where we most need changing.

We thought we were going to come here this morning and hold two little girls in our arms; however, through their honest vulnerability and their utter dependence, through the Christ revealed in them, amazingly, we held hope in our arms, hope for the present and for the future. We held our church’s mission in our arms. We held Christmas in our arms. We held salvation in our arms. And with Simeon, by the grace of God, we will not leave this service unmoved, untouched, unchanged. We will leave this morning praising God saying:

‘Master, now you are dismissing your servants in peace,
according to your word;
for our eyes have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.’ Amen

Room for Christmas

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

Isaiah 64:1-9 NRSV

It was a dark time in a dark world. The prophet Isaiah prays a desperate prayer asking God to rip open the heavens and come down and heal the nation, to bring peace on earth and joy to the people; a prayer asking God to establish a new order that will override the destructiveness of those in power. It’s a prayer of hope that God will come in the same liberating way as God had come in the past.

However, the mood of the prayer changes. Hopeful expectation turns into dreadful despair as the sins and transgressions of the people are considered.

The term “unclean” means “ritually unacceptable.” It is not believed that Israel is a community where God’s presence is willing to come. Like a “filthy cloth,” the nation is so impure and contaminated that no one would dare touch it.

Like “a faded leaf,” it’s in danger of rotting away. Because the people have called on false gods, there seems to be no room for the God of truth. Because they have turned their backs on social justice, turned their eyes away from the poor, there seems to be no place for the God of mercy. Because the people have chosen a way of violence, there seems to be no way for the God of peace. There seems to be no hope.

But then, the mood changes once more with one of the most hopeful words in the scriptures: “YET!”

YET, you are our Parent. YET, you are our potter. YET, we are all the work of your hand. YET, we are your people.

Isaiah hopefully asserts: YET, you made us, you own us, you are responsible for us, we belong to you. Thus, we trust that you will indeed come again to love us, to save us, just as you have come in the past.

Advent is a time of celebrating this hopeful: “YET!”

It was a dark time in a dark world. The sick and injured were passed by on the other side by prominent men claiming to be religious. The poor were unfairly taxed. Foreigners, scapegoated. Women, objectified. Victims of abuse, stigmatized. Anyone different, marginalized. The entire nation, demoralized.

 YET, a peasant girl named Mary carries hope in her womb and a song in her heart:

 ‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant…

…he has scattered the proud…
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.

This is the hope of Advent! The world seems dark, YET, the Light of the World is coming!

Later, the parents-to-be were on the road to pay taxes to a puppet king of an occupied land. The road was long, and being with child made the road especially difficult. And to make things more difficult, when it was time for the baby to be born, they discovered that there was no room in the inn.

There was no room. Sounds like the desperate prayer of Isaiah.

There was no room. There was no place. There was no way. There was no hope.

YET, as God had proved over and over throughout history, from the covenant of Abraham to the great Exodus, there is nothing in all of creation that can separate the world from the love of God. For God, would once again come! Despite every demonic power that tried to thwart God’s coming, God came.

And the good news of this Advent season is that we know that God still comes. And there is nothing in all of creation, nor things above nor below, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor life nor death that can stop God from coming.

A church once presented a Christmas play. You know the kind. I used to be in one every year when I was growing up. Three boys playing shepherds are carrying long sticks wearing bath robes with towels wrapped around their heads. And three more boys playing wise men wearing cardboard Burger-King crowns wrapped in Reynolds Wrap are carrying boxes decorated with left-over Christmas garland. They all walk up on the chancel, greet Mary and Joseph, and bow down before the baby Jesus.

Well, during one particular play, after the wise men and shepherds came and bowed before Jesus, a spokesperson for the wise men made the announcement: “We three kings have traveled from the East to bring the baby Jesus gifts of gold, circumstance and mud.” Of course, laughter filled the sanctuary.

But you know what they say: “out of the mouths of babes.”

In the circumstance of being told there is no room for you, there is no place for you, there is no way for you, and there is no hope for you, through Christ, God came to Mary and Joseph and God comes to us and says: “YET!”

The good news of Advent is that God comes to us in all our circumstances and offers us the assurance that there is no circumstance on earth or in heaven that is beyond God’s amazing grace.

And coming as a human being, coming into the world as a fleshly body, a body made up of dust and water, God comes and joins us in our mud.

Through Christ, God came into and still comes into our muck of pain and sickness and offers comfort and healing.

Through Christ, God came into and still comes into our muck of loneliness and fear and shares divine presence and a peace beyond understanding.

The world says there is no room; things are not going to get any better. The world says there is no way; the good old days are long gone. The world says there is no place; evil will get the best of you. The world says there is no hope; peace on earth and good will shall never happen.

YET, a young woman named Mary goes into labor as God says: “I am working all things together for the good!”

YET, a baby is born in the darkness as God says: “The best days of life are always before you.”

YET, a child cries in the night as God says: “Although you cannot go back to the good old days, good new days are coming!

The world says: “There is no room. You will never amount to anything.”

The world says: “There is no way. Sin will always get the best of you.”

The world says: “There is no place for you. Nobody really cares about you.”

The world says: “For you, there is no room, no way, no place, no hope.”

YET, a baby is wrapped in bands of cloth born to underserving, unwed teenagers in an occupied land, as God says: “I love you just as you are, and I come to wrap you in my mercy, clothe you with my grace, nurse you with my love. I know your sins and I forgive you. I will always be with you and never away from you. I will always be for you and never against you. I will always stay by your side fighting for you, even if it means dying for you.”

The world says: “Racism will never end. Bigotry will not cease. Misogyny isn’t going away. There is no way this country will ever come together. There is no room for diversity. There is no place for equality. There is no hope for unity.”

YET, a brown-skinned baby’s birth to a Hebrew woman is announced by angels: “I am bringing you good news of great joy for ALL the people. For you, ALL of you, a baby is born who is Christ the Lord, and through him there is no longer Jew or gentile, slave or free, male or female, for all are one!”

The good news of Advent is while the world often seems dark, YET the light of God will not be diminished.

Biased news channels and social media will continue to divide us, YET the good news that unites us will not be suppressed.

Minorities continue to be pushed to the margins, YET the justice of God will not be defeated.

The sound of gun violence is deafening, YET the Word of God will not be silenced.

The cease-fire has ended, rockets are being fired, YET the Prince of Peace will not be conquered.

The powerful spew misinformation and stoke fear to push their racist agendas, YET truth cannot be hidden.

Hate seems to be flourishing, YET love will not lose.

Sin and selfishness seem to get the best of us, YET grace will not fail.

Despair overwhelms us, YET hope will not die.

The nation feels like a faded leaf that’s about to rot away, YET the kingdom of God will reign forever and ever.

Many churches seem to have lost their way. Blind by power and greed, they embrace a spirit that can only be described as anti-Christ, YET I know of many churches, I know one particularly well, that is committed to following the way of Christ, committed to being the church, to being the enfleshed body of Christ in this world bringing good news the poor, freedom to the oppressed and recovery of sight to the blind.

It’s Advent, and our world grows darker;

YET, it’s Advent, and the Light of the World is coming!

And the darkness will not overcome it.

It’s Advent. God is acting. The Spirit is moving. Christ is coming—Being born, even today, even this very moment, in every one of us. Hallelujah.

Religion Is Making the Pandemic Worse

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short Articles3 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Theologian Arthur McGill put it this way:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope in the Midst of a Pandemic

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Non-Lectionary2 Comments

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For thousands of years, when people in the world found themselves in a crisis, they have turned to the Psalms for words of hope and peace.

About one-third of the Psalms are called “Lament Psalms.” These Psalms are unashamedly real, blatantly honest. They speak to the reality of the pain of our world: the plight of the poor; the despair of the displaced; the evil of war; the scourge of disease, and the horrors natural disasters.

Psalm 6 is perhaps my favorite “Lament Psalm.” For here the Psalmist honestly pours out his heart before God like none other:

2 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;

O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror.

3 My soul also is struck with terror,

while you, O Lord—how long?

4 Turn, O Lord, save my life;

deliver me for the sake of your steadfast love.

5 For in death there is no remembrance of you;

in Sheol who can give you praise?

6 I am weary with my moaning;

every night I flood my bed with tears;

I drench my couch with my weeping.

7 My eyes waste away because of grief;

they grow weak because of all my foes.

We do not know why the Psalmist is languishing so, why their bones are shaking and their soul is struck with terror. We do not know exactly what is causing them to grieve. What was lost. What made them so weary, so afraid of dying. Why their bed is flooded, their couch drenched with tears. We do not know what great change happened in the world of the Psalmist that caused them to experience so much fear and uncertainty, lamenting, how long, O Lord, how long?

But living in 2020, we can certainly relate.

Notice that the Psalmist is not afraid to reveal their grief. There is no holding back. There’s no masking the pain, no pretending to be strong because others might think they are weak. Things are about as bad as they can be. Their eyes are wasting away with grief. And they are brutally honest about it.

I believe this is a great reminder for us that is okay to grieve what we have lost. It is okay to grieve the uncertainty. And its is good to grieve openly and honestly.

However, as the Apostle Paul once said, we grieve, but we do not grieve without hope. And here, it is the honest, grieving Psalmist who also reminds us that even when our eyes are wasting away from grief, our souls are struck with terror, there is hope.

Notice the change in tone beginning with verse 8:

8 Depart from me, all you workers of evil,

for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.

9 The Lord has heard my supplication;

the Lord accepts my prayer.

10 All my enemies shall be ashamed and struck with terror;

they shall turn back, and in a moment be put to shame.

Somewhere between seven and eight, something happened in the life of the Psalmist. New life is experienced. Blessed assurance, amazing grace, and a peace beyond all understanding are received.

Just like we do not know what exactly happened in the Psalmist’s world that caused them to express their grief so openly in verses one through seven, we do not know what exactly happened between verses seven and eight that turned their life around. We just know that something happened, and that something was miraculous. Somehow, someway, new life, inexplicable, yet certain, came. Somewhere between verses seven and eight, Divine Love and hope showed up. The Psalmist does not say exactly how God showed up, but we can certainly take some good guesses.

Perhaps people from all over the Psalmist’s world came together, realizing that despite their differences, they were all connected, they were intrinsically dependent on one another. Perhaps they came together to truly love their neighbors as themselves, to do unto others as they would have others do unto them. They came together and sacrificed much, valuing people more than anything else.

Yes, the workers of evil were still working. Some people, I am certain, behaved selfishly, hording essential supplies. Some behaved fearfully purchasing more weapons. Some, I am sure, even in the name of God, struggled to put the well-being of the most vulnerable ahead of their self-interests and greed.

However, most of the people were workers of good and not evil. They shared necessities They chose people over politics. They chose their neighbors over money, as they chose the way of love over the way of fear.

And when they chose the way of love, when they began to look after one another, perhaps Liberals and Conservatives put aside their differences. Households of faith finally began to realize that their buildings were not that important because what the world needed was people to worship out in the the community with their service more than it needed people worshipping behind four walls in services.

So, maybe we do know what happened between verses seven and eight after all. The Holy One showed up. In different ways through different people, God came. Selfless, sacrificial, united love came.

This is how we can grieve honestly, yet grieve hopefully in this uncertain and frightening time.

I have heard many people say that when this pandemic is over, we will never be the same again.

Let’s pray that this is true.

O God,

Despite our differences, may we never forget that we are all connected and dependent on each other regardless of race, gender, ethnicity, sexuality, nationality, politics and religion.

As our healthcare professionals risk their lives to heal all who are brought to them; as our teachers find creative ways to love and teach their students; as police, firefighters and first responders continue to faithfully serve and protect; as people everywhere pick up and deliver medications and groceries to their neighbors; as we have witnessed that it is selflessness and not greed, that it is love and not fear, that will us through this crisis–may we continue to love our neighbors in such a way that the entire world will not only be healed of this virus, but it will be more kind, more just, more forgiving, and more unified.

We pray that the most vulnerable among us will be protected more. Science will be respected more. Truth will be upheld more. All people will be valued more. Gratitude and graciousness will be expressed more. Mercy will be shared more.

And when we face another crisis, when we face any adversity, may we always remember that it is okay to be afraid. It is okay to grieve, confident that being afraid and grieving does not mean we are weak. Because, with you help, we will be as strong as we have ever been, never allowing, even for one minute, our fear to shut out love, and our grief to diminish hope. Amen.

In a Foreign Land

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

church in decline

Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7 NRSV

I often think of Rev. David Brooks. He was the first pastor who suggested that God may be calling me to be a pastor. I had the opportunity to serve with him as the youth director of a church during the summer of 1986.

I will never forget the day that he called me into his office and shut the door behind me. I thought I was in some kind of trouble. For this was the first time I had ever served on church staff, and I wasn’t too sure I knew what I was doing.

Well, I soon found out that I was in trouble, albeit a different kind of trouble. For he asked me: “Jarrett, have you ever considered that God may be calling you to be a pastor?”

“Me a pastor? No way I will ever be a pastor!” I said.” He then went on to point out the pastoral gifts that he saw in me and to encourage me to prayerfully consider that God may be calling me to pastor a church. Out of respect for him, I told him I would.

Well, five years later, as I was getting ready to graduate from seminary to be a pastor, I was sad to hear that Rev. Brooks had passed away.

I think about him often today. For, as we are studying on Wednesday nights, the church and the culture has changed so much since that day he called me into his office, and I think of how shocked he would be if he could witness what we are experiencing today.

I must confess that I also wonder if he would still believe I possessed the necessary gifts to pastor a church. Because the truth is, although I now have over 30 years of experience serving with churches since that day I was called into his office, I still have moments, especially here in 2019, when I am not too sure I know what I am doing.

In the 1980’s, if a pastor loved the members of their church, if a pastor showed up on Sunday morning with a sermon (it didn’t have to be an awe-inspiring or even a good sermon, just a sermon that was based on scripture and had an appearance that the pastor had put a little work into it), then the church pews on Sunday morning would be full of people to hear the sermon.

Parents with young children came without hesitation, although the only children’s program consisted of a nursery and a simple Sunday School lesson. Young adults even found the music meaningful, that consisted only of a small choir, organ and piano.

Today, the only churches that seem to be full of people are expected to have elaborate children’s centers that rivals some amusement parks, a Chuck-E-Cheese or a Playland at McDonalds. The music must be on par with the music that entertains us at concerts. There’s disappointment if there is an absence of video screens, smoke machines and concert lights. The pastor needs to wow us with their charisma, and just make us feel really, really good.

He also never experienced 9-11 and the rise of religious fundamentalism that came out of it. He never witnessed the election of the first black President, and as a response, the resurgence of the religious right and the rise Christian white nationalism. He never witnessed the anti-Christ spirit that is in our nation today: the greed, the vulgarity, the selfishness, the fear of the other, and the further marginalization of those who are different.  And he never knew that many churches today would support, even seem to worship these anti-Christ sentiments.

And Rev. Brooks died before some people started walking away from the church for good. He knew that many churches in Europe were in delcine, but he never saw it here. He could not ever imagine that an entire generation of young adults would reject the church.

From the vantage point of 1986, it is like we are living in a strange, foreign land, in a completely different world. Churches that were once the insiders of society are now the outsiders. And many of us in churches like ours today are afraid, and we are not too sure if we know what we are doing.

This is exactly where the Israelites find themselves in today’s Hebrew lesson. They have just been exiled into Babylon, finding themselves in a foreign land.           .

It is into this strange and fearful reality, that the prophet Jeremiah sends a letter of hope.

Jeremiah writes that they can find their hope in the willingness and the courage to let go of their past.

Jeremiah insists that the people who have found themselves in a foreign land must surrender its old identity and accept its new situation not only to survive, but to eventually flourish.

He encourages them to begin working towards building a new way of life. They needed to accept that Babylon was where God has planted them and where God wants to work through them.

When Jeremiah says, “Pray to the Lord on their behalf,” the prophet is affirming the truth that God can be found even in this strange and foreign land. God has never left them. God is still working among them and wants to use them to make their new world a more just and peaceful place to live.

Jeremiah wants them to know God is present everywhere, even at the margins, even among the broken, the dejected, the afraid, and the subjugated, in other words, even among outsiders like them.

Jeremiah assures them that they can call on the Lord even without the temple, and the Lord will answer.

Having been conquered, humiliated and deported by military force, the exiles are embittered and vengeful. And Jeremiah writes: “Seek the welfare of the [foreign] land to which God has banished you.” In other words, “Seek the well-being of the land of your enemies. For their well-being is also you well-being. Their peace is also your peace. Pray for their land.”  This is an illustration of the social and political significance of praying for and loving one’s enemies.

Jeremiah encourages them to accept their situation in exile, but not to regard it as hopeless or unchangeable. As he mentions in a later verse, we have the promise from God: “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

I believe Jeremiah’s letter has much to say to churches in 2019 who find themselves in a foreign land.

Churches today who find themselves living in a foreign land respond respond in several unhealthy ways.

The most popular response is to just give up and walk away, to give in to defeat and scarcity, to succumb to the lie that God is no longer present, no longer working in the land, that God no longer has anything for us to do, that church today is just a waste of time.

Another popular response is to just be in denial about it all and to just ignore it. “Yes, the world may be different, but we really don’t need to do anything differently to live in this new reality. So we just need to keep doing the same things that we have always done.”

Another response is to adopt a defensive, self-protective posture. Paralyzed by fear, having no idea what to do, we retreat into our safe sanctuaries to comfort one another while loathing our enemies, for those we blame for this new reality.

Another response is to join the new culture. “People crave entertainment? We will give it to them. People want to feel good about themselves today? Let’s make that happen. The culture has embraced an “us vs. them” mentality? Our leaders resort to name-calling and bullying and work to further disenfranchise the other? To survive in this new world, we will join them and do the same thing. Everyone around us has forgotten that the greatest of God’s commandments is to love our neighbors as ourselves? Well, we’ll just forget that too. To survive in this new culture, we will simply blend in with the new culture.”

I believe Jeremiah’s prophetic words call churches today to respond in a better way.

The prophet reminds us that God is still here, and God is still working in this world. And God still wants to work through us. And God still has a lot of work for us to do!

And God is specifically pressing us to move away from the private walls of the church and into the world, into the public space, to do what we can to fulfill our calling as people of faith to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly.

And because churches that embrace love, kindness and humility now find themselves living in a world of hate, meanness and greed, because churches that embrace the inclusive, counter-cultural way of Christ, are now the outsiders, the disenfranchised, and the marginalized of society, I believe we are to especially go out and address the needs of others who have been disenfranchised and marginalized, all those who suffer from political, social and cultural insecurity and discrimination.

For one thing that our faith teaches us is that God is always most discernible and most present in the margins. Jesus called his disciples to leave their old lives, their old worlds behind, to drop their nets, to journey out to the fringes of society to experience God in new ways and in new forms.

So, what does God want us to do in this foreign land? What do we do when we are not sure what to do?

We need to first make sure that our theology is not a private theology, but that it is a very public theology. It is one that presses us to pray for the welfare, not for our church, but for our city and nation.

It pushes us to commit to work for shalom, for peace, for well-being, for healing, for wholeness, and for justice, not just for the members of our church who feel like they are now living on the margins of society, but for those who have always lived on the margins, for those who have always felt like outsiders…

…while remembering the great promise of God:  “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Let us pray together

O God, in this strange time and place, help us to be strong and courageous as we share the good news of gospel out to the margins of society. Knowing that you are with us and with you is our hope and our future.

Age to Age: Celebrating Gwen Long’s 100th Birthday

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year C, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Gwen and George Long

Psalm 71 NRSV

Psalm 71 is a beautiful declaration of an individual’s trust and hope in the faithfulness of God through every stage of their life: birth (v. 6), youth (vv. 5, 17), and old age (vv. 9, 18). Throughout any long life filled with many ups and downs, the Psalmist wants people to know that God can be trusted.

Most scholars believe that Psalm 71 is the declaration of a person in the latter stage of life who is uniquely capable of reflecting on all of life’s stages. Some suggest it could belong to an older David written shortly after Absalom’s revolt, but most believe it was an older member of the Rechabite community that was living in exile. Verse 21 suggests that it could have been a leader of that community offering hope to others during exile.

What a God-given coincidence that one of our lectionary readings for this day is this beautiful Psalm. Because on this day, we celebrate that this community called First Christian Church in Fort Smith has such a leader—someone who comes to us today on her 100thbirthday to offer all of us much hope.

Gwen was born on August 25, 1919 in Antlers, Oklahoma to Hugh and Lillie Vaughn.

Born ten years before the Great Depression, Gwen is probably the only person who is here today who rode a horse to grade school.

Gwen’s childhood was a rather unsettled time as the family lived in various places in Texas and Oklahoma as Gwen’s father would find different work in the new oil industry.

When Gwen graduated from the 8thgrade, her dad said that he could help get her an apartment as she continued her education, but she would need to find work to pay for room and board, which was not an easy thing to in that time.

At first, Gwen got a temporary job helping a woman in Camargo, Oklahoma who was pregnant. Then, she got another temporary job helping a Catholic woman who had several children. This was before Gwen was baptized into the Christian Church, so she recounts: “She must not have been a very good Catholic, because if she was, I suppose I would be a Catholic today.”

During her sophomore year, Gwen worked in a cafe south of Woodward, Oklahoma. But Gwen said that was a difficult experience, because the woman she worked for was an alcoholic and she “didn’t much care for that.”

Frustrated with her job in the cafe, as she was walking home one day, she happened upon a couple sitting in their front yard. They owned a mercantile store in Vici, Oklahoma. When they found out that Gwen was looking for a job, they said to Gwen: “Young lady, we have been praying for God to send us a daughter!”

The couple were leaders in the Christian Church. Gwen not only started working in their store, but she started attending their church, and at the age of 16, Gwen was baptized. Although she could not see it then, looking back she says she knows that it was God’s providential presence led her to that couple. For this is when life took a very promising turn for Gwen.

She soon met a young man who was working at a full-service filling station named Oliver Wendell Beck. After a courtship, the couple was married in 1937. World War II had just started when their son Kenneth was born on January 2, 1940 in Seiling, Oklahoma.

At this time, a new Air Corps Basic Flying School was being constructed in Enid, Oklahoma where Wendell landed a good job. However, not long after the young family moved to Enid, while Wendell was helping to unload gravel from a box car with a piece of heavy equipment, he was accidentally and tragically crushed to death.

Gwen remembers “There I was a widow and a single mother of a two year-old after four short years of marriage. She adds: “I was only 22 and had no sense. There is no way I could have endured that period in my life without God. I know God was with me.”

Gwen miraculously had the determination, the wherewithal and the strength to move back to Vici where she found childcare for Kenneth, worked hard and finished High School graduating as the Valedictorian of her class.

One day, a man from Oklahoma City was driving by the school looking for a secretary. The man saw Gwen and asked her to get in his car so he could dictate a letter for her. When Gwen finished writing the letter, the man read it and hired her on the spot. She then moved to Oklahoma City where she was able buy a house for her and little Kenny

Gwen soon learned of a grand opportunity at the Douglas Aircraft plant in Midwest City. This is where Gwen would become a real-life Rosie the Riveter. Their spirit of “We Can Do It” inspired not only their contemporaries but each subsequent generation of working women in all fields of employment.

More than ten-thousand Oklahoma women worked at the Douglas Aircraft Company and Tinker Field during the Second World War.

And Gwen adds that as a riveter, she made “barrels of money.”

During this period, Gwen received word that one of her good friends who in was living in California went through a painful divorce. Gwen, who had not that long ago lost her husband empathized with her friend’s loss like few others could. To help her distraught friend, she sold her car, and boarded a train with little Kenny and headed west where another riveting job awaited her in California.

Looking back, she knows without a doubt that the presence of God was with her and Kenny on that train.

After comforting her friend in her grief, and perhaps having been comforted herself in her own grief, yet another sign of God’s providential care, Gwen transferred back to the Douglas Plant in Midwest City. When the war was over, she got a job in the cosmetic department at Haliburton in Oklahoma City. It was then that her friend from California moved back to become a beauty operator at Haliburton. Soon after moving back, her friend met a soldier who had just returned from overseas, and the two of them married.

What does this have to do with Gwen?

Well, one of her friend’s customers had a brother who had also just returned from serving overseas in France and Italy. And obviously feeling grateful to Gwen for giving her hope after her divorce in California, she set up a blind date up for Gwen to meet this soldier. His name was George Long.

Gwen said that she was single 9 years after losing Wendell, because she never met anyone she wanted to marry, someone who would be a good daddy to Kenny. She says she supposes Kenny made her picky. George, however, fit the bill. George was college-educated, smart, handsome, an Army Major and a good father.

After marrying, George and Gwen raised Kenny and two had two girls Carolyn and Kathleen.

Gwen remembers that period of her life between marriages vividly. She said most of the time she really didn’t know what she was doing. Moving to Oklahoma City as a secretary and then taking the job at the Douglas plant and then going all the way out to California and then back to Oklahoma. She says, “I didn’t know what I was doing. I just did it.” But looking back, “I know it was God leading me, helping me. I know it was God’s presence.”

George and Gwen had a wonderful life together. Kathleen and Carolyn were both able to go to college, something Gwen was never able to do. And fortunate for First Christian Church, George transferred to Fort Smith as an engineer with OG&E. They joined our church after attending the first service here in this sanctuary. Here, George worked tirelessly on our Property Committee. Gwen sewed the drapes for the baptistery and made the cover for our piano. They both devoted their lives to this church.

During George’s retirement, they had the wonderful opportunity to spend 20 years traveling in RV’s across the country.

After many wonderful years, tragedy struck Gwen’s life once more as her son Kenny was diagnosed with brain cancer. After a 2-3 year-long courageous battle, on September 4, 2006, Kenny died. He was only 66 years old. Your children are supposed to bury you; you are not supposed to bury your children. And to compound the tragedy for Gwen, just three short months later on November 28, George, her beloved husband of 58 years, passed away.

Gwen said that losing her son and husband so close together was devastating, but she knows God was there, and it was God who got her through it.

Life after George has not been easy for Gwen. Although Gwen said George left her well taken care of, she says the only trips that she has been able to take since she turned 90 are trips to the doctor. She says she used to go anywhere she wanted to go, but now, living at Brookdale Assisted Living, “she only goes down to eat at 8, 12, and 5.”

She says she doesn’t know what she would do without Carolyn and Kathleen and calls them both gifts from God. “God has been so good to me, my whole life long,” she says.

And today, on her 100thbirthday, her very presence with us is a declaration of God’s faithfulness that offers us so much hope, hope that only someone who has experienced God’s protection and deliverance throughout a life-time can give us.

Her sense of humor, her smile, her laugh, her honesty (which sometimes can be brutal), the way she is still so very much engaged in the life of this community fills us with so much hope.

She gives us hope that although we experience many hardships in life (death, divorce, disease, in a thousand different ways we experience them), those hardships are never lasting. However, the faithfulness of God is lasting, from age to age.

Like the Psalmist, perhaps the eldest leader of the Rechabite Community, Gwen, our eldest leader gives all of us hope, for…
1 In God, Gwen has taken refuge;
and she has never been put to shame.
2 In God’s righteousness God has delivered Gwen, rescued Gwen; inclined God’s ear to Gwen and is to Gwen a rock of refuge, a strong fortress.

5 For the Lord is her hope,
her trust, from her youth.
6 Upon God she has leaned from her birth;

And today, she praises God continually.
8 Her mouth is filled with God’s praise,
and glory all day long.
9 The Lord will never cast her off in the time of old age;
or ever forsake her when her strength is spent.
12 God has never and will never be far from her.
God will always make haste to help her!
14 Thus, she hopes continually,
and will praise God yet more and more.
15 Her mouth will tell of God’s righteous acts,
of God’s deeds of salvation all day long,
though their number is past her knowledge.

17 From her youth God has taught Gwen,
and she still proclaims God’s wondrous deeds.
18 So even to old age and grey hairs,
God will not forsake her, and today on her 100thbirthday, she comes into to the house of God to proclaim God’s might
to all the generations to come.

20 The Lord has revived her from many troubles and calamities
and she knows that
even from the depths of the earth
God will bring her up again.

And the good news is that God’s faithfulness that Gwen has experienced throughout her life is for all people. As Gwen has trusted in God’s faithfulness, so can we. The good news is that Gwen’s story of trusting in God’s providential care from age to age is not the only story in this room.

So today, as a community of faith, we join hands with Gwen to praise God. Our lips shout for joy. For, with Gwen, our souls have also been rescued!

Thanks be to God!