Tag: jesus

Preparing the Way for Peace

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

Isaiah 11:1-10; Matthew 3:1-12

As if we needed it, Advent is the annual reminder that the world is not as it should be. But it is also our reminder that God is not finished with this world yet. It’s a reminder that God has plans for this world, and you and I are a part of those plans.

Advent is a holy tension. We wait and watch, but we wait and watch with hope. We light candles, because we believe the light still rises, and peace on earth is still possible, even during a time of deep violence.

Today, our nation remembers another Sunday morning when the world was plunged into deeper violence, when fear and grief reshaped lives overnight.

We remember Pearl Harbor today, not to glorify war, but to deepen our longing to be a people shaped by the peace that God promises. On a day we remember a time when peace collapsed, when meetings for diplomacy didn’t happen, when steps to find equitable solutions were not taken, we gather to proclaim a new day, a new time when swords are beaten into plowshares, and peace is not a distant dream, but a way of life.

And through our scripture lessons this morning, two prophets speak about this time: Isaiah and John the Baptist. Two voices, centuries apart, but carrying one message: God is breaking into this world with a peace that transforms everything!

Isaiah speaks with poetry. John speaks with fire.

Isaiah shows us the world God intends.

John tells us how we must prepare for it.

Isaiah invites us to imagine and dream.

John insists we repent and change.

Together, they give us the full message of Advent: the hope and the urgency; God’s promise and our responsibility.

I love that Isaiah begins Advent with a stump, and Matthew begins with a wilderness. Isaiah says: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse.” Matthew tells us: “In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness.”

A stump is what remains after something has been cut down. Here, it belongs to Jesse, the father of King David, symbolizing the seemingly dead royal lineage of David.

A wilderness is a place where familiar paths have disappeared. It’s a place of withdrawal, isolation, and loneliness.

 And yet, both are places where God begins again. Both are places where grace breaks in. Both are places where hope refuses to die, and love finds a way!

Some of us have walked into Advent this year with stumps in our lives. There have been losses, endings, dreams cut down, seasons cut short.

Some are walking toward Christmas this year surrounded by wilderness. There is much uncertainty, weariness, loneliness, and feelings of lostness.

But both Isaiah and John remind us of the good news: that God does some of God’s best work in the places that seem barren. God is in the business of making a way when it seems like there’s no way.

Isaiah gives us a breathtaking vision of God’s business in this world. It’s of a world ruled not by fear, corruption, hate, and violence, but by justice, tenderness, compassion, and reconciliation.

Wolves lie down with lambs. Children play safely at the entrance of a cobra’s den. Predators and prey live at peace.

This isn’t some fantasy. It’s the reordering of the entire world. Isaiah saw what scripture calls “shalom:” a peace that heals, restores, and reshapes not only society, but the entire creation.

Isaiah says this peace will be led by a Spirit-filled one who will: “judge the poor with righteousness…and decide for the meek with equity.”

In other words, peace and justice are inseparable. We cannot have one without the other. Peace without justice is fragile. Peace without equity is deceptive. Peace that ignores any harm to others, or to the creation, is not peace at all.

On this December 7th, as we remember our parents and grandparents waking up to the violence of Pearl Harbor, we must not pretend that violence belongs only to the past. For every day we wake up to stories of good people being yanked from their cars, or off the streets, on their way to work, on their way to school or to a thanksgiving dinner with their family, detained by masked men and deported because of the color of their skin. We wake up to stories of fishermen blown up in boats without due process or any chance to speak their truth.

 We see a world where fear is weaponized, food for the hungry is politicized, meanness is rationalized, human dignity is discounted, and inequity is engineered rather than accidental.

On this Pearl Harbor Sunday, we confess the many ways violence still shapes our world, and we cry out for the peace Isaiah dares to imagine and for which Christ commands us to prepare.

And then a wild, fiery preacher named John bursts into our story. He’s wearing some strange clothes. He’s got this crazy diet, and a voice that sounds like a siren screaming in the desert.

And his first word is not, “Peace.” No, it is, “Repent.”

Now, at first his preaching sounds like one of those hell, fire, and brimstone preachers we’ve heard before. We think, “no wonder they call him a Baptist!” At first, his message sounds like the opposite of Isaiah’s message, but the more we listen to it, we discover that John is not contradicting Isaiah. No, he’s showing us the way to Isaiah’s vision of peace.

You see, John knows that peace never arrives in this world easily. Peace is not passive. It’s not something we just sit back and wait for. Peace requires transformation. If peace is gonna come, then people gotta change!

If Isaiah shows us what peace looks like, John shows us what peace requires.

John calls us to turn from every way that does harm: our habits; our politics; our systems; our silence; our consumption; even our religion, especially our religion; to embrace a life of nonviolence. And he makes it clear that peace on earth is not some naïve dream from some woke, left-wing lunatic; it is a moral imperative from God. John is the prophet who prepares us for the world Isaiah describes.

John’s challenges his hearers to “bear fruit worthy of repentance.” In other words: Don’t just want peace and sing about peace. Live peace. Practice peace. Embody peace in your decisions, your priorities, your words, your vote, your compassion, your courage, your lifestyle.

Repentance is not self-hatred. It’s not guilt. And it’s not shame. True repentance is liberation. It’s simply returning to God’s way of peace that was intended for the creation.

On a day when the nation recalls the devastation of war, repentance becomes not just a personal religious ritual, but a moral commitment. It’s a commitment to dismantle hatred. It’s a commitment to stand with the vulnerable. It’s a commitment to uproot the seeds of harm before they ever take root in our lives or in our world.

That is the fruit worthy of repentance, as John says. That is the path toward the world Isaiah imagined.

And let’s not miss this. John’s harshest words are not aimed at the people the religious leaders dismissed as outsiders, unbelievers, or unclean. John’s sharpest critique is directed at the religious establishment itself, the ones who believed they were closest to God because of their heritage, their appearance, their privilege, their assumed moral superiority. He turns to them and says, “Do not presume… the axe is already lying at the root.”

John doesn’t say this because God delights in their tjdestruction. He’s not warning them because God wants to punish or shame them. John speaks this harsh word because God seeks to prune. God seeks to cut away anything, no matter how pious, polished, or patriotic, that destroys real peace in the world. And that includes any movement that weds faith to nationalism and proclaims that God’s blessing is the property of one nation, one party, one people. It includes any faith that blesses fear, excuses cruelty, or elevates domination as destiny.

We cannot cling to anything that kills equity.
We cannot preserve the things that preserve injustice.

We cannot call violence “protection,” or prejudice “tradition” or “heritage.”

We cannot keep watering the roots of fear, greed, Christian nationalism, or complacency, and then pretend we are bearing the fruit of peace.

Advent is the holy season of pruning, not for punishment, but for preparation. Advent will not allow us to believe that for peace, repentance is optional.

Isaiah teaches us what God’s peace looks like.

John teaches us how to make room for it.

Isaiah lifts our eyes.

John steadies our feet.

Isaiah speaks hope.

John calls for courage.

And together they prepare us for the Christ who comes not with military might, not with political coercion; but with justice, mercy, grace, humility, and fierce love: the Christ who judges with righteousness; the Christ who defends the meek, heals the sick, forgives the sinner, feeds the hungry, and includes the outcast.

This Advent, perhaps peace begins with us by letting something go:
a resentment we’ve carried too long; a fear that narrows our compassion; a selfishness that feeds our apathy and fuels our greed; a prejudice we inherited; a silence we use to avoid conflict.

Perhaps peace begins with healing something inside us.
Or perhaps peace begins with speaking a truth we’ve been afraid to name.
Or standing with someone who has been pushed to the margins.
Or choosing generosity in a season obsessed with consumption.
Or refusing despair in a world that seems addicted to it.

Or perhaps, on this December 7th, peace begins with remembering that violence is not inevitable, war is not destiny, and equitable solutions are real, and love, not hate, is what truly makes a nation great.

Advent is the season when we stare at the world’s stumps and declare, “A shoot’s gonna spout, and I can see it!”

We look at the wilderness and say, “A voice is calling, and I can hear it!”

We remember the wounds of history and pray with renewed commitment: “Never again!”

And we see the darkness all around us and still light our candles, because we trust the promise that the light still rises.

It rose from the stump of Jesse.
It rose in the waters of John’s baptism.
It rose in Bethlehem.
It rises in every act of justice.
It rises in every step toward peace.
It rises, even now, in us.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

The God of the Living

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

Luke 20:27-38

This morning, we gather in a sacred circle of love with parents and grandparents, their family and friends, and the wider church family to dedicate ourselves to God and to one another. We will make promises this morning to support a family as they raise their daughter in love, envelop her with mercy, teach her the stories of our faith, and to resist the powers and authorities that would deny her life.

We declare today what Jesus declared in the Gospel of Luke: that our God is not the God of the dead, but the God of the living.

That means we have a living, active, public faith. It’s not a private, personal faith without works that the book of James pronounced dead. It’s a living, working, breathing, forward-marching, justice-seeking, hope-singing faith. It’s a faith that lifts up little babies and baptizes big dreams. And it’s a faith that always refuses to let despair have the final word.

The story in Luke 20 begins with a question, but it’s not an honest question. The Sadducees, a group of religious elites who didn’t believe in the resurrection, have come to Jesus with a trick question with the purpose of trapping him in theological quicksand.

They spin this wild scenario about a woman who marries seven brothers, one after another, each dying without having children. Then they ask, “In the resurrection, whose wife will she be?”

Their question sounds absurd because it is absurd. For they’re not trying to understand the ways of God. They’re only trying to protect their ways, to defend their black and white, tidy little world where their control goes unchallenged, where the poor stay in their place, and where God doesn’t mess with the systems they’ve built to protect their power and privilege.

But Jesus, as he so often does, flips the table. He says, “You’re asking the wrong question. Resurrection isn’t about hierarchy or control. It’s about life, free, full, meaningful, unending, abundant life.”

It is then Jesus shakes their world with these powerful words: “God is not the God of the dead, but of the living; for to God all of them are alive.”

The God of the living is the one who refuses to be confined to any religious box or to be controlled by any political party.

The God of the living is the one who is forever calling life out of tombs and hope out of heartbreak.

The God of the living is the one who breathes over the chaos, creating a new world, and calling it good.

The God of the living is the one who takes what the empire crucifies and declares, “Love will win!”

This is the God who is still speaking, still creating, still re-creating, still resurrecting us from all the small deaths we endure today, like the death of empathy, the death of mercy, the death of social justice, the death of diversity, equity, and inclusion.

When we dedicate Maggie this morning, we are declaring our allegiance to this God, the God of the living, who says to all matter of death: “Rise up and live!”

When we dedicate Maggie, we are saying that we will raise her not in fear but in faith, not in greed but in generosity, not in apathy but in active love.

In a world that often chooses death (death by selfishness, death by bigotry, death by poverty, death by racism, death by environmental destruction, death by indifference), we are promising that we will stand with the God of resurrection who always chooses life.

Hannah and Austin, in dedicating Maggie today, hear this blessing from the church: As a parent, you are participating in resurrection. Every sleepless night, every patient conversation with your child, every prayer whispered over her fevered forehead— it’s all resurrection work.

Raising a child is resurrection work because it is an act of resistance. It is believing in the future when the world tells you to give up. It is saying, “As bad as things seem today, I still believe in tomorrow.”

You are forming in Maggie a living faith, one that will not just memorize Bible verses, but will embody them. One that will not just believe in Jesus, accept Jesus, but will follow Jesus, bearing witness to a faith that will learn to feed the hungry, to welcome the stranger, to defend the marginalized, and to speak truth in love.

When you hold Maggie and whisper prayers, when you read her stories of courage, when you teach her to say “please” and “thank you” and “I’m sorry,” and “I love you,” you are introducing them to the God of the living, the One who delights in her laughter, in her curiosity, and in her wide-eyed wonder.

You are shaping a world in which Maggie can live fully, freely, and faithfully.

And First Christian, this dedication isn’t just a family’s promise. It’s our promise too.

We are the village that surrounds all the children in our congregation with love. We are the people who will teach them how to sing, how to serve, and how to stand up for what’s right.

When we dedicate Maggie this morning, we are committing to build a world where all children can breathe clean air and drink clean water, where food is available and healthy, where their schools are safe and fully-funded, and where their neighbors are kind.

We’re committing to the slow, holy work of resurrection, to dismantling systems of death so that every child can live abundantly.

We are committing to be the church that loves all God’s children, no matter their color, gender, ability, sexuality, or identity, because to God, all of them deserve life, abundant and free.

The Sadducees were trapped in a world too small for the God Jesus proclaimed.

They couldn’t imagine life beyond the limits of their power, so they made up and absurd scenario to debate and stop Jesus because they feared that the God he was revealing was much more than they could control and much bigger than any binary box they’ve tried to put God into.

But Jesus taught them that the resurrection isn’t some theory to be debated. Resurrection is a truth to be lived.

Jesus taught that every act of love is resurrection.

Every cry for justice is resurrection.

Every march on behalf democracy and every silent vigil on behalf of peace is resurrection.

Every child lifted up in dedication is resurrection.

When we bless Maggie today, we’re making resurrection visible to the world.

We’re saying to the powers of death, “You will not win here.”

We’re saying to the forces of despair, “You will not have the last word.”

We’re saying to the powers of fear, “You can stop speaking now.”

And we’re saying to the God of the living, to the God of resurrection, that we will live like resurrection people.

To raise children who believe that love is stronger than hate.
To build communities that value life more than profit.
To be the kind of people who feed the hungry, comfort the grieving, stand with the oppressed, care for the planet, and keep singing hope, even in the dark.

Because to believe in the God of the living means more than believing in life after death. It means believing in life before death. It means believing that the kingdom of God can be glimpsed in the way we treat one another. It means that every child we nurture, every parent we support, every injustice we confront, every prayer we pray, every neighbor we love—it’s all resurrection work.

So, when Jesus says, “God is not the God of the dead, but of the living,” he’s just talking about heaven. He’s talking about this very moment— about the breath in your lungs, the heartbeat in your chest, the promise in Maggie’s eyes.

He’s talking about the way God’s Holy Spirit moves in this congregation and in this community. He’s talking about the way God keeps showing up, calling us to live, to love, to care, to feed, to lift one another higher, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As we dedicate Maggie today, we are bearing witness to the world that our God is the God of the living. And we, by grace and commitment, are a people of the living. And we will go from this place to build a world worthy of her life and the lives of all God’s children.

We will be bold enough to proclaim resurrection in a culture obsessed with violence, in a society dying with greed and hate, in a nation that withholds food from the hungry. We will love so fiercely that future generations will say of us: “Those were the people who truly chose life!” “Those were the ones who stood in the shadows of death and made resurrection visible!”

Because the God of the living is still breathing life into this world.
And that means our work and our hope is not finished yet.

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

God of the living,
You are the breath in our lungs and the light in our eyes,
the pulse that moves through creation and the promise that will not let us go.
You are the beginning and the end,
and still You meet us right here, in the middle,
in this church, in this moment, in the ordinary holiness of our lives.

We give You thanks today for the gift of life:
for children who remind us how wonder works;
for parents who pour out love without counting the cost;
for seniors whose wisdom steadies our steps.
We thank You for laughter that catches us by surprise,
for tears that speak what words cannot,
and for the holy mystery that keeps drawing us back to You.

God, we confess that we do not always live as people of the living.
We get trapped in fear,
in cynicism,
in systems that trade life for profit and power.
Forgive us, O God.
Breathe new life into this congregation.
Teach us again to see Your image in every child,
Your presence in every neighbor,
Your Spirit in every act of justice and mercy.

We pray for those among us who are struggling:
for the sick and the sorrowing;
for those weighed down by anxiety or grief;
for those who have lost work, or hope, or direction.
Be near to them, God of the living.
Surround them with grace that will not let them go.

We pray for our world:
for peace in places of war;
for food in places of hunger;
for safety where children fear;
for compassion where cruelty has taken root.
Remind us that Your kingdom is not an idea for tomorrow,
but a movement for today
that resurrection is not just a promise after death,
but a power that transforms life right now.

And as we prepare to hear Your Word and dedicate these children,
open our hearts to Your living presence among us.
Make us brave enough to live as resurrection people
to raise our children in love,
to build communities of justice,
and to trust that Your Spirit is still breathing life into this world.

We pray all this in the name of Jesus,
the Christ of the living,
the friend of the broken,
the hope of every generation. Amen.

Child Dedication Liturgy

Today we celebrate the gift of life and the goodness of God who entrusts children to our care.

As a community of faith, we stand with these parents who bring their child, Margaret Evaline Grooms, before God, seeking grace, wisdom, and strength for the journey ahead.

We dedicate not only this child, but also ourselves, to be a people who nurture, teach, protect, and love.

For we follow the One who said, “Let the little children come to me, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.

Charge to the Parents
Hannah and Austin, you have been given a sacred trust: to care for this child; to love them with patience and joy; to teach them the stories of faith; to model the way of Jesus in your home and in your life.

Do you promise to raise your child in the love of God, to encourage curiosity and compassion, to seek justice, to practice kindness, and to walk humbly with your child in faith?

Parents: We do, with God’s help.

Do you promise to teach your child that they are wonderfully made, beloved of God, and that nothing in life or in death can ever separate them from that love?

Parents: We do, with God’s help.

Charge to the Congregation

Church, this child does not belong to these parents alone— she belongs to all of us.

We are called to surround this family with a community of care: to teach, to listen, to celebrate, and to stand with them in every season.

Do you, as the gathered body of Christ, promise to support these parents in their sacred calling, and to help this child grow in love, faith, and justice?

Congregation: We do, with God’s help.

Do you promise to create a world where every child is safe, fed, valued, affirmed, and free to become all God intends? If so, please stand.

Join me in welcoming this child as we read together.

We welcome this child into our church family.
We promise to love them, to pray for them,
to teach them by our words and example,
and to walk with them as they grow in faith, hope, and love.
May our life together reflect the grace and joy of Christ.

Prayer of Dedication

God of the living,
we give You thanks for the gift of Maggie,
for the laughter, wonder, and light she brings into the world.
Breathe Your Spirit upon her, that she may grow strong in body and kind in heart.
Grant these parents wisdom, courage, and joy in their calling.
Surround them with love that will not let them go,
and a community that will not let them fall.

May this child come to know the depth of Your grace,
to trust Your goodness,
and to live in the fullness of Your love.

We dedicate Maggie and ourselves to Your care and keeping,
in the name of the God of the living:
Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

Invitation to Communion
At this table, we meet the God of the living,
the One who welcomes children and sinners, saints and seekers.

Here, life conquers death.
Here, grace outshines guilt.
Here, love gets the last word.

So, come with your doubts and your dreams,
your gratitude and your grief.
Come, for this table is set for all of God’s children.
There is room enough for all here.

Invitation to Generosity
God is the giver of every good gift:

life and breath; laughter and love;
children to nurture and a community to sustain us.

As we dedicate our Maggie this morning, we also dedicate ourselves.
We give that others may live,
that every child may know the security of love,
that hope might have hands and faith might have feet.

Let us bring our gifts with joy,
trusting the God of the living to use them
for the healing of the world.

Commissioning and Benediction
Go now as people of the living God,
as people who believe that love is stronger than fear,
that hope is greater than despair,
and that new life is already breaking forth among us.

May the Spirit of the living Christ go with you,
to guide your steps,
to guard your hearts,
and to bless all the children in your care.

Go in peace,
to love and to live as resurrection people.

Amen.

What’s Written on Your Heart

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Sermons Year C2 Comments

Some appeal to guilt: “If you don’t give, how will we keep the lights on and the camera rolling?”

Some appeal to fear: “If you don’t tithe, God will not bless you.”

Some appeal to self-interest: “Give, and you’ll get an unexpected check in the mail.”

And some appeal to nostalgia: “This is the church your grandparents built. You owe it to them to give.”

So, this stewardship season, I want to make something clear: you will never ever hear anyone in this church suggest that pledging your tithes and offerings, your service and your presence, is a way to bribe God, to buy blessings, to feed our souls, or keep our consciences clear.

Furthermore, we are not being asked to make a pledge to the 2026 budget because we recently had to replace the hot water heater, the roof may leak in a heavy rain, and we’ve hired an expensive professional to relocate a large family of bats which have taking up residence in the attic.

That’s because, we believe your pledges, your service, must come from a deeper place.

It was the prophet Jeremiah who proclaimed: “The days are coming,” declares the Lord, “when I will make a new covenant…I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.”

We give because God’s law has been put in our minds and written on our hearts.

Now, when we hear the word “law,” we might think about rules, regulations, and restrictions, what we can and can’t do. But Jeremiah isn’t talking about that kind of law. He’s talking about something much deeper than any rule or ritual.

Jeremiah is talking about the moral rhythm of God. He’s talking about justice, kindness, mercy, and humility. He’s talking about empathy and compassion, engraved not on tablets of stone, but on the living tablets of human hearts.

This is the reason we pledge our gifts. We give, not from guilt, not from obligation, not from a belief that we will get something in return, not even from a command. We give because the rhythm of God’s morality has been written on our hearts.

And when this is written on our hearts, we don’t have to be told to pledge, to give, or to care, to love, to be kind, to show mercy, and to do justice. We just do. We don’t even need a stewardship campaign to tell us we need to embody radical welcome and revolutionary love. It is just who we are.

So, as we think about stewardship this month, as we consider pledging our tithes and our offerings, our service, and our presence, to make this world more just, loving, and peaceful, an important question we should ask ourselves is this:

What is it that is written on our hearts? Because the reality is, everyone has something written inside of them.

Sadly, for many, it is fear—put there by wicked men who seek power by dividing us.

For some, it’s scarcity. It’s the fear that there’s not enough.

For some, it’s fear of the other, immigrants taking what we believe is ours.

For some, it is cynicism. It’s the fear that nothing in this world ever changes, anything I give simply will not matter.

The good news is that not only does God have a powerful eraser, in the words of the prophet, “forgiving wickedness and remembering sin no more,” the good news is that God is still writing. And when God writes, God never uses the ink of fear, but always writes in the ink of justice.

Onto our each of our hearts, God is writing justice, not selfishness; compassion, not comfort; and selfless love, not self-preservation.

Here’s some more good news. Your choosing to be here this morning is a good sign that that the ink of God is flowing through your veins. That’s why I believe you are sitting in a pew this morning. That’s why you give. That’s why you serve. That’s why you show up when your neighbors need you, and that’s why you rally when your country needs you.

Jesus illustrated this truth with a story of a woman, a widow with no power, no protection, and no position. She doesn’t have wealth. She doesn’t have influence. All she has is the ink of God on her heart.

She shows up before a judge who, the text says, neither feared God nor had respect for people. We know the kind. He doesn’t care about justice. He doesn’t care about her. He doesn’t care about God. He cares only for himself.

But because of that something written on her heart, nevertheless she persists. She keeps showing up. She keeps knocking. She keeps demanding justice.

Now, we don’t know what her case was.

Maybe her landlord was exploiting her.

Maybe her neighbor had taken her land.

Maybe she had been cheated out of her inheritance.

Maybe she was being denied healthcare, due process, or civil rights.

Most certainly, she was a victim, or should I say “a survivor” of misogyny.

Whatever it was, she kept showing up.

And although the judge doesn’t have a moral, empathetic bone in his body (again, we know the type, don’t we?), even he gives in. Not because he suddenly finds compassion, but because she refuses to go away.

Now, this is not a story about nagging God until God gives us what we want. This is a story of faithful persistence in the face of injustice. It’s a story about a woman who knew something about the power of showing up. The odds were against her, but she kept showing up. The judge was morally depraved, but she kept showing up. Her friends told her she needed to accept things the way they are because nothing in this world ever changes, but she kept showing up because God’s justice, the rhythm of God’s morality was written on her heart.

It was the same rhythm that propelled Marion Stump to show up in Miller Park yesterday at the No Kings Rally— demonstrating that when justice is written on your heart, when the ink of God is coursing through your veins, not even pancreatic cancer can keep you from showing up!

This is why this is a perfect text for our stewardship season in this time and place. Because giving is a form of showing up. Serving is a form of showing up. Speaking out, organizing, marching, standing with the vulnerable, fighting for democracy — all of it is showing up before the immoral powers and principalities and saying: “There will be justice here.”

As the widow kept knocking at the courthouse door, we must keep knocking at the world’s door. And every gift of generosity, every dollar given, every act of kindness, every time we show up, is one more knock, one more insistence that justice matters, and love will win.

Now, here’s a statistic that gives me hope today: Researchers say that if just 3.5% of a nation’s population mobilizes in sustained, nonviolent action, they can turn the tide against authoritarianism. Think about that. Not half the country. Not even a tenth. Just 3.5%. That’s about one in every thirty people. If one in thirty people with justice written on their heart keeps showing up, keeps marching, keeps knocking, keeps giving, keeps serving, keeps praying, you can change the direction of a nation. This nation can be turned toward justice again.

So, we must never believe our offering doesn’t matter, our presence doesn’t count, our gifts are too small, or that our persistence is not power. Because every time we show up, every time we give out of what’s written on our hearts, we’re part of that 3.5%. We’re part of the turning. We’re part of God’s kingdom breaking in.

Good stewardship is and has always been heart-based. It’s justice-based. It’s love-based. It’s what Jeremiah saw when he said:

No longer shall they teach one another, saying, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest.

When the covenant is written on our hearts, we don’t need coercion. We don’t need compulsion. We don’t need manipulation. Because the Spirit itself bears witness in our hearts, and when God’s handwriting burns in your chest, you wake up every morning asking: “How can I give myself today for justice, for peace, for love?”

And the good news is that the world doesn’t need an extraordinary event to change. It changes through ordinary persistence. Through the widow who won’t give up. Through the disciple who keeps showing up. Through the church that keeps preaching hope, even when hope seems hard to find, because every time we show up, we bear witness to the covenant of God written inside of us. We demonstrate to the world: “Greed will not have the last word. Hate will not have the last word. Fear will not have the last word. And love will one day ultimately and finally win.

Disciples, we are the people who keep showing up. We show up for one another. We show up for our neighbors. We show up for the nation. We show up wherever anyone thirsts for justice and hungers for love.

Because when the covenant of God is written on your heart, you can’t sit still in the face of suffering. You can’t stay silent in the face of injustice. You can’t keep your hands closed when the Spirit is calling you to open them.

The widow kept showing up before the unjust judge, and we keep showing up before an unjust world—not out of guilt, not out of duty, not to get something in return, but because there’s something divine inside of us that will not let us rest.

It’s what Jeremiah called a new covenant. It’s what Jesus called the kingdom of God. It’s what we call faith in action.

So, this stewardship season, we’re not asking you to give out of fear or guilt or obligation. We’re asking you to give because you’ve got something written on your heart.

Give because you believe that love is stronger than hate, and there’s a love inside of you that will not let you go. Give because you trust that justice will prevail. Give because you know that hope still has work to do in this world!

Give, because you’re part of that 3.5% who refuse to bow before kings, who refuse to be silent in the faces of those in power with no regard for people or God, who refuse to quit knocking, who refuse to stop showing up.

Because that’s what the church is.

It’s not a building that needs maintaining, but a movement that needs to keep marching.

And we will keep showing up—not until we get what we want, but until the world becomes what God dreams it to be.

Until every heart bears the handwriting of God, and every gift, every prayer, every act of courage echoes that same eternal truth:

We give, we serve, we love, we persist, because it’s written on our hearts!

Amen.

Pastoral Prayer

God of persistence and promise,
You are the One who writes truth on human hearts,
who carves compassion into our very being,
and who teaches us to keep showing up
in hope, in prayer, and in love.

You have written Your covenant not on stone tablets
but in the living flesh of our hearts.
So even when the world forgets justice,
even when the powerful ignore the cries of the poor,
Your truth keeps pulsing within us,
calling us to rise again, to knock again,
to believe again that love will have the final word.

We thank You for the saints and prophets
who never stopped knocking on the doors of indifference.
For the mothers who marched,
for the workers who organized,
for the dreamers who still believe in a more just tomorrow.
May their persistence live in us.

And forgive us, O God, when we grow weary in doing justice.
Forgive us when our compassion has an expiration date,
when our generosity depends on convenience,
when our prayers fade because the answers take too long.
Remind us again that the work of justice
is not measured in days or dollars or ease,
but in faithfulness, in showing up again and again.

In this season of stewardship, teach us to give not from fear or guilt,
but from gratitude and conviction.
Let our generosity be an act of defiance
against greed, apathy, and despair.
Write Your covenant deep within us,
until our giving, our praying, and our living
all bear witness to Your love at work in the world.

We pray for those whose hope feels faint today:
for the tired caregiver; the underpaid worker;
the neighbor who feels unseen; the soul that feels unheard.
May they find strength in the knowledge
that You are the God who listens, the God who remembers,
the God who still answers cries for justice.

And so, we will keep showing up.
We will keep praying, keep working, keep giving,
until the widow’s cry is answered,
until Your justice rolls down like waters,
and Your mercy like an ever-flowing stream.

We ask this in the name of Jesus,
the One who kept showing up,
the One who never gave up,
the One who lives and reigns through love.
Amen.

If We Loved Like Jesus

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

John 13:31-35

In the words of Stevie Wonder, I have “some serious news to pass on to everybody (which is really news to no one): “Love is in need of love today.”

Although some of Jesus’ last words, which are usually understood as one’s most important words, came in a commandment to love one another as he loved, many Christians have rejected those words, and today, love seems to have fallen out of favor.

One excuse I hear is: “Well, love might have worked back in Jesus’ time, but the world’s a much different place today. Love, especially loving like Jesus loved, well, that just doesn’t cut it anymore.”

Preaching love these days gets one called “a left-wing lunatic,” while stirring up hate gets one elected President. Being empathetic toward another gets one called “a sinner,” while being a bully gets one called “faithful,” or “councilman.” Deporting and separating families gets cheers, while asking for some common decency and humanity, gets one called “soft.”

If we truly love like Jesus loved—if we feed the hungry, if we care for the sick, if we give to the poor, if we stand up for the marginalized, if we speak out on behalf of the oppressed, if we welcome the stranger, and accept those who are cast away, we’re considered: “enemies of the state.”

These days, the peace and love crowd who lead with mercy, are out of date. And the mean and tough crowd, those who can make the hard decisions are trending. They can take away SNAP benefits without any apprehension, have people arrested without any due process and disappeared without any second thought. They say the country can afford to show our strength with a military parade, but not to show our compassion with healthcare for the elderly.

But love? Love is weak, they say. And these days, in these times, they say love is for losers. It may have worked back in the first century, when Jesus commanded it, but not here in the twenty-first, not anymore.

But the truth is, first century Palestine was not much different from today. Beneath the rule of the Roman Empire, ordinary people bore the weight of crushing taxes, land seizures, violent crackdowns, and the threat of crucifixion designed to silence dissent and maintain control. The elites—

local, imperial and religious— colluded to rob people of their wealth and dignity, leaving entire communities displaced and impoverished. It was a time when the underprivileged dare not imagine a world where justice was right for the oppressed and not a privilege of the powerful.

And it was into the thickness of that unrelenting, darkness, Jesus commanded his followers: “Love one another.”

Because Jesus knew that love is the light the darkness cannot overcome, and love is only power in the world strong enough to tear down empires and build God’s kin-dom.

So, when Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you,” he wasn’t being soft, and he sure as heaven wasn’t being weak.

He was talking about using the most powerful force in the world to change the world! He was talking about a love that was so threatening to the powers-that-be it would get you arrested and could easily get you nailed to a cross.

Jesus was talking about a love that confronts the empire, a love that calls out injustice, a love that always, insistently, and unapologetically, favors the oppressed and welcomes the people society tries to cast out. It’s a love that moves mountains, flips tables, and shakes up the status quo. It’s a love that demands justice for the poor, healthcare for the sick, and freedom for the oppressed.

Jesus said, “Love one another, as I have loved you,” because Jesus knew that love, the love he taught, the love he modeled and embodied, is the only power in the universe that can turn this world around.

Earlier this spring, Father John Dear reminded us that although the term “nonviolence” may sound passive and weak, there’s really nothing passive or weak about it. Nonviolence is “active love. It’s active resistance to evil.”

It’s important to remember that Jesus was anything but passive. He didn’t just sit back in his thoughts and prayers and wait for the world to change. He marched right into the temple and flipped over the tables of those who were hurting the poor saying: “This is not the kingdom of God! This is not how God’s people do things!”

He challenged the hypocrisy of the religious culture, those who claimed to love God but failed miserably in the things God requires, kindness, justice, and mercy, especially to those who were the most thirsty and hungry for it.

That’s how Jesus loved. And that’s how the world today needs us to love.

Dorothy Day, who devoted her entire life to loving like Jesus, once said: “Love, and ever more love, is the only solution to every problem that comes up in the world.” Love keeps coming. It keeps showing up. It keeps resisting and pushing back the darkness.

Dr. King described love’s power this way: “Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.” Love stands up to racism, to sexism, to greed, to exploitation, to marginalization, and says: “Not on my watch!”

Gandhi once said: “Nonviolence is not a weapon of the weak. It is the weapon of the strong.” The strength of love is not how hard we hit or how loud we shout. It’s in how firmly we stand for love when hatred thunders and violence strikes. That’s true strength. And the good news is that the church that commits to loving like Jesus has that strength in abundance!

The problem is that an alternative Jesus devoid of love is now being used to fuel injustice. When I heard in seminary that when fascism comes to America, it’ll be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross, I really didn’t think I’d ever see it.

Ten commandments hang on the walls, but there’s no compassion in the halls. They call it freedom, but it only works for some. Prayers and crosses are everywhere, but mercy? It’s nowhere to be found. They may say it is about God, but it’s all about control.

As Rev. Dr. William Barber likes to say, you can’t say God Bless America and think you’re being holy when you’re terrorizing immigrants, taking away food from the poor, and denying healthcare. That’s not holiness, says Barber, — “that’s pure hypocrisy dressed up in Sunday clothes!” It is sin. And if we stay silent while God’s name gets stamped on policies that crush the poor, deport the stranger, and hoard wealth for the few, then we are complicit in that sin. Jesus didn’t die for a faith that props up empires — he died for a love that tears them down.

And Barber reminds us that none of what we are seeing today is new. In the 1930s, fascists in Europe had a way of wrapping cruelty in religious national pride. They spread lies about minorities and built concentration camps and called it security. They locked up dissenters and called it patriotism. They cut off aid to the vulnerable and called it government efficiency. They blamed the Jews for the crucifixion of Jesus and called it eradiating anti-Christian bias.

And today’s mass deportations, voter suppression, and attacks on the press, free speech and universities — they are all echoes of those same dark chapters.

The good news is that love didn’t fail back then — because love does as love always does— Love showed up.

Love resists. It never quits. Love stays. It never retreats. Love fights. And love always wins.

Harriet Tubman went back, again and again. Because love doesn’t leave people behind. Chains broke. A system cracked. The lie of slavery collapsed. And love won.

In Selma, they beat ‘em with batons on that bridge. But they marched anyway. Love crossed into history. The Voting Rights Act was signed. And love won.

At Stonewall, they said love was illegal. They raided bars and broke lives. But the people rose. Years later, the Supreme Court saw the truth that love is love is love, and love got a seat at the altar. Love won.

In 2020 when everything shut down, love opened up. Mutual aid was demonstrated. Grocery runs happened. Meals on porches were shared. Text chains were created. Check-ins occurred. Love filled the gaps.

Not soft love. Not timid love. Resilient, rooted, revolutionary love—this is the love Jesus commanded when he said: “as I have loved you, love one another.”

It’s a love that doesn’t flinch. A love that never folds. A love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. A love that doesn’t give up. Not then. And not now.

If only the church had followed the simple commandment to love Jesus as he loved, it would’ve never been seduced by any politician shouting, “Make America Great Again!” Because the only greatness Jesus is interested in is the greatness of love—Love that welcomes the stranger, feeds the hungry, and protects the vulnerable—A love that would never chant “Send them back.”  But always says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

So, no — love is not weak, and it is not soft— love is power. Love is resisting. Love is marching. Love is standing up and speaking out.

Love is nonviolence in action, and as Father Dear says, love is a “force more powerful than all the weapons of war.”

The good news is—we can see love is rising today!

We can see love standing unshakably during a silent peace vigil on Monument Square in the pouring rain. It can be seen getting pastors arrested for praying in public in the Rotunda to protect Medicaid. And when the Boss sits down at concert and speaks like the prophet Isaiah.

And we can see love persisting as a new Pope chooses to be named Leo, after the Pope who laid the foundations in 1891 for Catholic social teaching advocating for: the rights of workers, especially the poor; the divine dignity of all persons, the government’s role in social justice; and role of the church in protecting the most vulnerable.

A small act of kindness extended to a stranger, a church sheltering an asylum-seeker, federal judges pushing back to defend the Constitution—This is not weakness. This is the power that can change the world!

If we loved like Jesus, our immigration policies would be built on hospitality, not hostility.

If we loved like Jesus, we would welcome the stranger, not criminalize them.

If we loved like Jesus, unchristian Nationalism would bow to the kingdom of God, and white supremacy wrapped up in Christian language would never be tolerated.

And the church wouldn’t be known for judgment, but for joy. We’d be too busy setting extra places at the table to worry about who belongs and who doesn’t.

If we loved like Jesus, our love would be bigger than our borders. Our love would be stronger than our fears. And our love would be louder than all voices put together conning us to divide, exclude, and hoard.

So, let’s love like Jesus! Let’s make the kingdom of God visible, one act of radical love at a time!

As Rev. Barber says — “it’s not about left or right, it’s about right and wrong.” And love is always right!

So, let’s be known for love. Let love do the talking. Let love do the walking. Let love be the proof. Let love be the revolution! Amen.

A Word from the Lord

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

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

Luke 4:14-29 NRSV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus continues:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Why the Christmas Tree Is Still Standing in January

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

Chrismon TreeEphesians 1:3-14 NRSV

There are many influences in this world that guide our lives, inform our thinking, and give us direction and meaning.

One of those influences is the distinct seasons of the year. Seasons result from the yearly orbit of the Earth around the Sun, the center of our universe, and the tilt of the Earth’s rotational axis. In other words, the changing of seasons means that the entire world is changing. Seasons change us in a powerful way, because the world changes. Winter, spring, summer and fall influence the things we wear, the things we eat, our hobbies and recreation, even our general mood.

The proprietors of capitalism realize the tremendous power and influence the seasons have over our lives and culture. Notice how they have manipulated them in the name of profit. For example summer begins not on June 21st but with Memorial Day sales in the department store and the opening of the tourist season. Autumn begins not on the 23rd of September, but with Labor Day sales. And winter did not begin on December 21, but actually on the day in November we call Black Friday.

A long time ago the Christmas season began on Christmas Eve and then was celebrated for 12 days until January 6 when Jesus’ baptism was observed. However, the money makers understood that there would be a greater payback if they could convince us that the Christmas season actually begins the day after Thanksgiving and lasts through New Year’s Day.

This is the reason that Christians in mainline churches that observe the Christian calendar are often a bit frustrated during Advent and this second Sunday after Christmas. Christians, who have been influenced and conditioned by the world, wonder why we have to sing those painful, solemn, anticipating, waiting hymns of Advent instead of the more cheerful Christmas carols during those Sundays after Thanksgiving. And we wonder why on earth the Christmas tree is still standing in the sanctuary and we are still singing carols days after the black-eyed peas have been consumed. After all, we have been taught by our world to believe that having any Christmas decorations up after New Year’s is, well, tacky.

However, what guides our lives, informs our thinking, and gives us direction and meaning is not anything that is of this world. The main influence on our lives is the birth, the life, the death, and the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

In Ephesians we read:

With all wisdom and insight he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory (Eph 1:13-14).

Like winter, spring, summer and fall, Jesus change everything. When we embrace Jesus as our Savior and Lord, it is like the whole world tilts on its axis. Our whole world revolves around Jesus the Christ who is the center of our universe. We live for the praise of his glory. We believe Christ is God’s plan for all time.

Thus, our new year does not begin on New Year’s Eve watching a ball drop in a square shining bright with the lights of commercialism and materialism joyfully singing Auld Lang Syne with a few friends. Our new year has its beginning on a dark November morning around a simple Advent wreath, lighting one meager candle solemnly singing Come Thou Long Expected Jesus.

Our new year does not begin with a celebratory toast commemorating our accomplishments of a past year. It begins with a small cup of juice confessing our sins and our shortcomings, recognizing our need for repentance, forgiveness, and a savior.

Christmas is not about the exchanging of many gifts or even the love our family and friends have for us. Christmas is about one special gift of God’s self in the birth of that Savior revealing the love of God for all people.

The first Sunday in January is not about putting Christmas and an old year behind us and looking forward to a new year. It is about reflecting on the influence the birth of the Savior has on our lives, our community and our world.

The month continues with the season of Epiphany where we witness this Savior go down the banks of the Jordan River to begin fulfilling God’s plan for all time through his public baptism.

We watch with amazement, as although he is the Savior of the World, he is still driven into the wilderness where he experiences the trials and temptations of this world, the same ones we all experience.

Then, astonishingly, we hear our names called when he calls the names of Simon, Andrew, James and John asking them to drop everything to follow him wherever he leads them. And with the other disciples, we follow. We follow courageously, anxiously, unwittingly, even somewhat reluctantly. But we follow.

We were with him when he healed the sick. We were there when he gave sight to the blind, touched and restored a leper, brought peace to a man possessed by demons, defended and forgave a sinner. We were with him when he lifted up the poor and challenged the establishment by speaking truth to power. We were there when he became angry at the religious people and turned over tables in the temple of organized religion.

The month of February features Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent. It is a season of acknowledging that we were also with the disciples when they deserted him. We, too, left him in the garden of Gethsemane when he was arrested. We acknowledge our association with Peter who denied that he ever knew him, and we confess our connection with Thomas who betrayed him on that dark night.

Lent is the season that our need for forgiveness is most fully revealed, as is our need to renew our mission to deny ourselves, to pick up our own cross and die to self.

And on Good Friday, we learn that if we give ourselves away, if we die to self, if we join Jesus in that prayer to our God, “not my will, but yours be done,” when the evil of this world throws everything that it has to throw at us, when evil comes to destroy us, when evil finally seeks to take the very life from us, evil does not and cannot win. For what it has come to destroy has already been given away. Our lives have already been placed into the hands our God who holds them for all of eternity.

During the season of Easter, we celebrate this good news. We celebrate the good news that God is always working in this world working all things together for the good. God is always wringing whatever good can by wrung out of life’s most difficult moments. God is always lavishing our sins with grace, transforming our sorrows into joy, our despair into hope, our defeats into victory and our deaths into life.

During the season of Pentecost we celebrate the good news that Christ continually comes to us through God’s Holy Spirit. God continues to guides this world. We believe that the same grace and love that Jesus taught and lived out throughout his ministry is still alive in this world today.

Then we enter into a season that the Church calls “Ordinary Time.” It is a season to reflect on what the birth, the life, the death and the resurrection of the Lord mean to us and our world. However, when one truly does that, one discovers that there is no such thing as any ordinary time. All time, when Christ is influencing it, guiding it, informing it, giving it direction and meaning, all time is extraordinary. There is no secular time. There is only holy time. When our lives are directed by Jesus, even our darkest, most dreadful, difficult days are divine days.

And our year does not end on December 31, but on a Sunday in November we call Christ the King Sunday. We celebrate the good news that when it is all said and done, in the last analysis of it all, Jesus Christ, the God who is fully revealed in his birth, life, death and resurrection, is the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.

Thus, the good news for all of us this day is that it is January 4th, and the Christmas tree is still standing, the lights are still burning, and it is not tacky or even strange. Because like winter, spring, summer and fall, when Christ came into our lives, the whole world tilted on its axis and everything on this earth, including us, changed forever. We are no longer on the world’s clock, on the world’s schedule or calendar. Our hope and our calendar is set on Christ, God’s plan for all time, and we live for his glory. It is Christ, and only Christ, who guides our lives, informs our thinking, and gives us direction and meaning. Thanks be to God.

Christmas Begins in the Wilderness

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

TheGriswoldFamilyChristmasTreeMark 1:6-8 NRSV

When does Christmas begin for you? Was it on Black Friday at the mall, or while watching A Charlie Brown Christmas or National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation? Was it last Sunday morning as the first candle of Advent was lit in this place? When does it start? When do you begin to realize the good news that is Christmas? Where are you when it happens? On the Town Common during the annual Christmas tree lighting? Walking down Main Street during the Taste of Farmville? Going caroling with the children from church? Maybe it is not until Christmas Eve, as you light your candle and sing, Silent Night. Perhaps it is when you are alone at home, listening to Christmas music and decorating your own tree.

For Mark, the good news of Christmas begins in what most of us would call a strange and unexpected place. Unlike us, the good news of Christmas does not start with some warm sentimental scene. And unlike Matthew and Luke, for Mark, the good news of Christmas does not begin with heavenly visitations, choirs of angels, the worship of shepherds, a star rising in the East, or Magi bearing gifts. For Mark, Christmas does not even begin with a little baby wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger.

For Mark, the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the good news of Emmanuel, God with us, the good news of Christmas, begins somewhere out in the wilderness. And he is not talking about some snow-covered winter wonderland where the Griswold’s find their family Christmas tree.

For Jewish people aware of their history, Christmas begins in that place that was experienced somewhere between slavery in Egypt and the Promised Land. Somewhere out in that place of testing, trial and temptation, somewhere out in that place of doubt, dread and despair, that place where you do not know if you want to live or die, that place with the Red Sea swelling before you and Pharaoh’s army advancing behind you. That place where Elijah fled to save his life from Jezebel’s army and then prayed for God to take his life away. That place where even Christmas himself would be haunted by wild beasts and tempted by Satan. For Mark, Christmas begins in the most strange and unexpected place, a raw, dangerous place called the wilderness.

The beginning of the good news that is Christmas occurs in that place where God seems to be against you, or appears to be so far away that you doubt God’s very existence—suffering in an intensive care unit at the hospital, laying in utter misery in a nursing home, holding the hand of a parent with Alzheimer’s, picking out a casket for a spouse in a funeral home, at home anxiously trying to pay your monthly bills, in the middle of a fight with a loved one, in Pearl Harbor 73 years ago this hour, in any place where people are overtaken by tension and terror, overwhelmed by despair and disappointment, or overcome by sin and shame.

Last weekend, I was at home trying to get my own Christmas started as I do every weekend after Thanksgiving. However, this year it began a little differently, you might say it began strangely and unexpectedly.

Instead of decorating my tree this year with Christmas music playing in the background, I decorated it while watching the local news. As I hung ornaments, I listened to the tragic story of a high school student killed in an automobile accident outside of Pinetops. As I turned on the lights of the tree, I glanced up to see pictures of mothers with their children escaping from war-torn Syria into refugee camps in Lebanon. I saw images of many children: some starving, others injured, some dying, others sick, all very afraid. I saw gruesome images of parents holding the lifeless body of their child. And I thought to myself, “I need to turn this depressing mess off and put on something a little more Christmasy.”

Then it occurred to me. This may be as close to Christmasy as it gets, for this is Christmas in the wilderness. The Good News according to Mark concurs that this is Christmas, raw Christmas. This is where Christmas truly begins. This is Christmas untamed and undecorated. For Christmas began when God came into a depressing mess.

And no matter how hard we try, no matter how much energy we expend or how much money we spend; we cannot escape the raw truth of it. Christmas begins, says Mark, with a “voice crying out in the wilderness.” And there is no music, no matter how Christmasy, that we can play loud enough to drown out this voice. There are no decorations glitzy enough and no lights bright enough to temper this voice.

This voice can be heard throughout every refugee camp in Lebanon and by every parent mourning the loss of their child. It can be heard in every intensive care unit, in every nursing home and funeral home. This voice can be heard in every wilderness, in every depressing mess on earth.

Through the good news of Christmas, God is crying out: I am for you; not against you. I am with you; not away from you. And I am more real, more alive, and more at work in this world than you can sometimes believe. As the prophet Isaiah said: “I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert” (Isa 43:19).

The good news is: Christmas does not begin with us. It does not begin when we get the house all decorated or get all of our shopping done. We do not have to host a Christmas party or even go to one. We don’t even have to go to church, light a candle or sing a carol. Christmas begins with God and with a voice crying out in the wilderness, in those places where we may least expect it, but need it the most.

Some of us know that Luke tells his beloved Christmas story in chapter 2 of his gospel. However, I believe he perhaps tells it more poignantly in chapter 10.

A man was traveling down a wilderness road that was so dangerous that it was sometimes called “the way of blood” or “the bloody pass.” And there out in the wilderness, the man fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, leaving him half dead on the side of the road. As the man lay on the roadside, somewhere between Jerusalem and Jericho, somewhere between life and death, wanting to live, but also maybe wanting to die, he is ignored by two religious leaders who are also traveling down the same road.

God only knows why these men who you would expect to stop and help ignored the man. Perhaps they thought the robbers were still nearby, or maybe they thought the man lying on ground was only pretending, playing some sort of trick, so that when they came near him, he would beat and rob them. For whatever reason, they believed it was much too risky for them to stop.

Then came this one, Luke calls him a Samaritan, which means this was someone who was despised and rejected by the religious establishment, someone who was often misunderstood and rarely respected, someone who knew something about pain and brokenness, betrayal and abandonment, God-forsakenness; someone who had spent many days and nights in the wilderness himself, tempted and tried.

This one who was the least expected to stop and help, saw the man. He saw the man’s wounds, saw the man’s fear, saw the man’s despair and was moved with mercy and compassion. And there in the wilderness he risked his own life, as he sacrificially came to him, selflessly bent himself down to the ground, and joined the man.

The man did not have to do anything to make this one come to him. Out of pure love, unconditional and unreserved, this one just came. He then touched the man where the man most needed touching, pouring oil and wine on the man’s wounds and bandaging them. He then picked the man up and safely carried him out of the wilderness. He stayed with him, at his side through the darkness of the night. When morning came, he paid for the man’s debts, and made the promise: “I will come back. I will return.”

Of course, we call this “The Story of the Good Samaritan.” However, I believe it should be called, “The Story of Christmas.” A story that begins with a voice of mercy and compassion crying out in the wilderness, in those strange, dangerous places where we least expect it, but most need it.

Hospice caregivers will often speak of a dying person “rallying” for a brief time right before death. A person who has been non-responsive will begin to talk. One who has been confused or disoriented will become suddenly coherent. And those who have not had any food for sometimes days may request something to eat or drink. As a pastor, I have seen this “rally” more times than I can possibly count. I am not sure exactly why it happens; I just know that it happens, and it happens often.

My faith tells me that it is Christmas. It is God seeing one lying in the wilderness in their weakest, most broken state, seeing one in their most desperate, most vulnerable need, and it is God being moved with mercy and compassion for that one. It is a voice crying out from the heavens into the wilderness: “I am for you, not against you, I am with you, not away from you. I am Emmanuel. I will risk my own life for you. I will give my all to take care of your wounds and to pick you up, to forgive all of your debts. And when you are ready, I will come back, and I will take you unto myself, so that where I am, you will also be.”

The good news for us this day is that Christmas comes to us all when we confess that we are all half dead, lying on some wilderness road east of Eden, beaten up so badly by this sinful world that no one can tell whether we are Jew or Gentile, male or female, black or white, slave or free.[i] Whenever we confess our brokenness, our sinfulness, and our need for a Savior, a voice from heaven cries out in our wilderness and Christmas comes. Christmas always comes.

When does Christmas begin for you? When does it start? Where are you when you begin to realize the good news that is Christmas? The good news, according to Mark, is that Christmas begins when and where you may least expect it, but need it the most.

[i] This sentence is adapted from words spoken by Frank Tupper in one of my theology classes at Southern Seminary, Louisville, Kentucky, 1989-1992.

Happy 47th Birthday Bobby Hodge, Jr.

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short Articles3 Comments

In many of my sermons and writings, I am quick to point out what is wrong with the church today. I have even defended some who are not a part of a church by saying: “They have not given up on Jesus. They love Jesus. They want to follow Jesus. They simply do not see Jesus in the church. All they see in the church are hypocritical and judgmental people who think they are more righteous than those who do not think, act and look like them.” And sadly, a part of me realizes that I can preach love and grace every Sunday, and I can write about it every day, and I will never be able to change the minds of many who have given up on the church.

This is why I wished everyone could come to First Christian Church of Farmville, NC, for at least one Sunday, and worship with Bobby Hodge, Jr. who suffers with cerebral palsy.

I wished they could come into the front door on the corner of Church and Main at 10:55 am on Sunday, walk through the narthex, make an immediate right, and be greeted by Bobby who they will find sitting faithfully in his wheelchair, ready to worship and to give thanks to his God. I wished they could see his smile, experience his joy, shake his hand, and hear him call their name, as he does mine, “Good morning Jarrett Banks. It’s good to see you today.”

I wished they could hear Bobby, who has never been able to walk, who has always had trouble which his speech, who has always been in constant pain, ask me to pray during the service for his caregiver or for a neighbor who has not been feeling well. I wished they could hear Bobby remind me before the service to make an announcement about the CROP walk to raise money for those who are hungry.

I wished they could hear little Bobby sing the great hymns of faith and pray the Lord’s Prayer in unison with the congregation. I wished they could share the Lord’s Supper alongside of Bobby, listen to Christ tell Bobby and tell them, “This is my body which is broken for you. This is my blood shed for you.”

I wished they could watch Bobby as he listens intently to the sermon. I wished they could be there on a Sunday when I say something about God’s love that strikes a special chord within Bobby and hear him shout out loud: “You got that right!”

I wished they could speak to him after a sermon I may preach about spiritual gifts, about God giving all people, regardless of who they are, gifts to serve others through the church, and hear Bobby say: “I have served as a deacon. I have served on committees. I have raised more money for CROP walk and the hungry than anyone. I can do anything for God I want to do, and I do it all from a wheelchair.”

I wished they could hear Bobby speak to someone who has just joined the church as he says: “We are so glad to have you in our church. Please call me day or night and let me know if I can ever do anything for you.”

Yes, I wished every person, who thinks Jesus is not in the church, could come to First Christian Church of Farmville at least one Sunday morning and worship with Bobby Hodge, Jr.

Thank you Bobby for the way you reveal and share Jesus with so many. Thank you for being what is right with the church today. And Happy 47th Birthday!

LGBTQ+ Issues and the Church

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Longer Articles58 Comments

(Revised June 2023)

INTRODUCTION

I am a cisgendered, heterosexual male born in 1966 to Southern Baptist parents who raised me in a conservative farming community in northeastern North Carolina. My pronouns are “He, Him and His.” I earned a Bachelor of Science degree from Wingate College, a North Carolina Baptist school, in 1988. I then attended The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Kentucky where I earned a Master of Divinity Degree in 1992. After serving as a pastor for over ten years, I received my Doctor of Ministry degree from Gardner-Webb University in 2005. I married my wife of 34 years in 1988 and have two children. My son is 28 and my daughter is 25. I am currently ordained as a Disciples of Christ minister.

The only thing that sounds strange to me in the introductory paragraph above is the word “heterosexual.” This may be the first time I have introduced myself as a heterosexual. When I meet another person for the first time, I never mention my sexual orientation. The word “sex” or any word containing this powerful, three-letter word is never used during any introduction.

Thus, before I begin this article on the topic of homosexuality, I wish to state how uncomfortable I feel when identifying other people with terms such as “homosexual.” First and foremost people are people. They are human beings. They are our family, our friends, our co-workers, our neighbors; and for those of us who belong to a church, they are our siblings in Christ. Their sexuality helps to define who they are; however, it is not the only thing that defines them. Furthermore, I am also uncomfortable using the term “issues” to discuss homosexuality, because in most situations, I do not believe there should be any “issue.”

I am writing this formal statement in response to a request from an old college friend. In May of 2014, I received the following message on Facebook messenger: “Jarrett, I pray all is well with you and yours. Over the past few months I have read many of your posts with interest regarding the issues of homosexuality as it relates to church and a life of faith. As I continue to dig and examine my own stance on these and other issues, I was wondering if you would mind spelling out your stance and the basis for it. I would appreciate it. Thanks in advance.”

I replied: “Although I have many thoughts on this subject that may appear in some of my sermons and writings, I have never written a concise statement dedicated solely to this issue. So thank you for encouraging me to do so.”

As a pastor since 1992, the fact that this is my first attempt to “spell out my stance” on LGBTQ+ issues as it relates to church and the Christian faith reveals not only the complexity of these issues, but also my fear of the powerful emotions that these issues invoke in others, especially in people of faith. As a pastor who lives paycheck to paycheck and seeks to avoid unnecessary conflict within the church that could stop a paycheck, there has always been a part of me that is fearful of the possible consequences of “spelling out my stance.” Yet, there is another part of me that believes that making such a statement is a necessary risk. Then, there is another part of me that realizes that the risk that I am taking by honestly and openly sharing my beliefs is insignificant when compared to the enormous risk my LGBTQ+ friends and family have taken through their honesty.

Thus, it pains me when I consider that my stance on these issues has changed very little since my seminary days in the early 1990’s, yet this is the first time I have “spelled them out.” During seminary, I was very aware that I would need to develop a stance if I was going to be a pastor the 21st century. Therefore, as a student, I studied the scriptures and read all that I could read on the subject to develop a stance. However, for over twenty-five years, for purely selfish reasons, I kept my stance rather private. There were times when I have touched on it in informal conversations, alluded to it in sermons, led a brief Bible study or two on it, and posted or tweeted a snippet here and there; however, I never “spelled it out” in black and white in a manner that is fully visible to the public. So, to all of my LGBTQ+ friends, and to family members and friends of LGBTQ+ persons, I sincerely apologize.

PREFACE

The first title of my blog Stumbling, Fumbling and Bumbling Behind Jesus aptly prefaces any “stance” that I take on any issue as it relates to faith. When it is about faith and theology, I do not have all the answers. I have not “arrived” as a Christian or as a Christ-follower. I like to think that I am on my way. Yet, along the way, I have the propensity to make many wrong turns and even break down on the side of the road. I have come a long way, but I still have a long way to go. For me, life is as mysterious as it is miraculous. The existence of God and the revelation of God through Jesus Christ is even more miraculously mysterious. God, the creator of all that is, is so large that I will never be able to wrap my mind around God. But I am comfortable with this. As Harry Emerson Fosdick has shared, I am at peace living “in a world where my life is surrounded by mystery than living in a world so small that my mind could comprehend it.”

My mind is not only small, but I believe it is also flawed. Whether one calls it “original sin” or “the Fall of Humankind” or just a “messed-up world,” I believe that all of creation is fragmented. Consequently, as a creature on this earth, I will always understand God and God’s will for the world as “seeing through a glass darkly” (1 Corinthians 13). And by God, I mean “the source of all that is.”

Yet, to give my life meaning, purpose, fulfillment and direction, I choose not to believe that God is completely unknowable. I believe life is in an inexplicable gift of grace, and I am compelled to express gratitude for this gift through a life of faith in the Giver, the Source of it all. I have chosen a meaningful life of faith in God opposed to a meaningless life of agnosticism, and I have specifically chosen a life of Christian faith in God. I often wonder if I would have chosen this faith if I was born to parents in a part of two-thirds of the world’s population that are not Christian. Nonetheless, I am glad that I have had the opportunity to make this choice, and I am grateful for the way that this choice informs my beliefs and enriches my life.

Consequently, my limited understanding of who God is, how God acts and what God desires is derived from the words and actions of Jesus as revealed in scripture. This understanding continues to grow, change and mature, even through my doubts, as I “stumble, fumble and bumble” behind this Jesus with others who are on the same journey.

Therefore, any “stance” that I take on any issue as it relates to the church and the Christian faith is flawed and incomplete. Yet, I believe that it is always beneficial to articulate current beliefs with the purpose of sharing them with the wider community of faith so those beliefs can be tested, challenged and grow.

ISSUE OF CHOICE

I begin with what I believe is the obvious presupposition that one’s sexual orientation is not a choice. I believe most persons who belong to the LGBTQIA community would not belong to this community if there was a choice involved. In fact, I have never met a queer person who did not tell me that at some point they wished they were attracted to the opposite sex or were cisgenderd to avoid the severe pain of rejection and condemnation from their friends, families and communities. I believe avoidance of this pain is the reason many queer people date and even marry someone of the opposite gender. I also do not believe in any psychological therapy or religious ritual that can change a person’s sexual orientation.

One day, I had lunch with a self-professed, former gay man who had been through a Christian program to become “reoriented.” During lunch, he proudly announced that he had been “reprogrammed” by God to be attracted to women, and he was currently “happily married” to a woman. However, during the conversation he also shared, “Now, don’t get me wrong. I am still tempted almost daily by men who I find sexually attractive.” As someone who can not fathom being sexually attracted to someone of the same gender, I did not deem his reprogramming very successful.

ISSUE OF SHAME

I believe any discussion on the LGBTQ+ community and the Christian faith must acknowledge the shame that is associated with sexuality within many Christian faith communities. Outside of the church’s traditional definition of marriage, all sexual acts, including masturbation, are often characterized as vulgar, nasty, and just plain wrong. Even sexual desire and arousal are regarded as something indecent or lewd.

Many churches denounce sex education to children in public school curriculums, yet they have been too prudish to have any open and honest conversation regarding human sexuality in the church. The “Song of Songs” or “Song of Solomon,” which is filled with descriptive sexual encounters, is seldom, if ever, read in the church as many find such content embarrassing, to say the least. As a Christian minister, I have upset people in the church by using the word “pregnant” to describe the mother of Jesus instead of simply saying “with child.”

In the home, many Christian parents avoid the “birds-and-the-bees” conversation with their children until it is much too late; that is, if they do not avoid it all together. Even living in a world saturated with mass media inundated with sexual images, Viagra and Cialis commercials running 24/7, many Christians are more comfortable living in some puritanical state of suppression or denial than acknowledging that our sexuality is an innate part of who we are as human creatures. Consequently, sexual indiscretions or “sins” are widely regarded by people in the church as more heinous and more perverted than other sins, and the thought of same-gender sexual contact stirs up strong emotions of detest and disgust.

The church must recognize the disproportionate weight that it assigns to perceived sexual sins and honestly accept that humans are sexual beings created to experience ourselves and to love others sexually. However, for this to happen, the church must learn to become willing to have an open discussion about human sexuality without shame and a misguided charge of emotions. Furthermore, many in the church should honestly admit that it is the perceived vulgarity of the images in their minds of same-gender genital contact that fuels part of the disgust they feel for persons who identify as gay.

ISSUE OF CELIBACY

Many people in the church teach that homosexuality is not a sin; however, homosexual acts are regarded as sins and should be avoided. Thus, they are able to accept a homosexual person’s orientation, but they disagree with their “lifestyle.” Consequently, they encourage gay people to abstain from same-gender sexual contact and to commit to living a celibate lifestyle. Although I believe there is a small fraction of a percentage of the human population that can, and probably should, commit to such a lifestyle, I believe it is wrong for any Christian, especially one who enjoys the intimacy and pleasures of sexual love, to encourage celibacy based solely on one’s sexual orientation. I believe it is blatantly arrogant to say, “You’re gay, so you can’t do that.”  It is also a preposterous suggestion. I believe that the studies of the struggle with celibacy among Roman Catholic priests and nuns teach us something very valuable about the importance of sexual love to a person’s mental, physical, and spiritual well-being.

ISSUE OF SIN

I often hear people say, “Love the sinner and hate the sin.” This implies that the sinner is somehow separated from the sin. Sin is reduced to a specific action that can be avoided. However, I do not believe sin is something that human beings living in a fragmented creation can avoid. Members of the church have asked me: “Pastor, if I go to Las Vegas and play the slot machines, will I be sinning?” My response is: “Even if you manage to somehow miraculously avoid walking through a casino while you are in Vegas and read the Gideon Bible in your hotel room every night; you will not be any less of a sinner than you already were.” Sin and brokenness are so much a part of this world and our lives, that there is no escaping it. The Jews once believed that sin could be avoided if 613 laws were obeyed. Not only is that a formidable task for any human, I believe Jesus would say even if one obeyed all 613 laws, they would not be any less of a sinner than the one who broke every law.

I have heard many people in the church use the euphemism “sexually-challenged” to describe members of the LGBTQ+ community. Every time I read or hear that, I want to respond: “Aren’t we all?”

I believe the church must understand that sin or fragmentation is a part of all of us, and there is no way we can escape that truth by avoiding certain acts or suppressing certain desires. I believe this is why Jesus said that those who have lust in their heart are just as sinful as those who commit adultery (Matthew 5:27-30). This is also why the Bible-believing religious people dropped their stones before the poor woman “caught in the act of adultery” when Jesus said, “Let those without sin cast the first stone” (John 8:7).

ISSUE OF BIBLICAL INTERPRETATION

Scripture is and has always been very important to me as I seek to follow the Christ that I believe is revealed in scripture. This faith in Christ begins with my reading and understanding of the written words. However my faith is not in the written words themselves, but in THE WORD that the written words reveal—the same WORD that was with God and was God and became flesh and dwelled among us (John 1).

I do not believe the Bible was ever meant to be read and followed by picking certain verses out of their context. I am fully aware of the seven passages in the Bible that some Christians pick out of context to condemn same-sex love, as I have studied them extensively (So, you don’t have to quote those in the comments below). I am also aware of many more passages in the Bible that have been picked out of context to support slavery, Jim Crow laws, apartheid, the suppression of women, and even genocide. Reading and interpreting the Bible can be a dangerous exercise. It should be done carefully while prayerfully keeping in mind the overall message that is being revealed.  In other words, scripture should always be interpreted.

Historical and Cultural Context

There are several ways that I interpret scripture. One way is in the light of the historical and cultural context in which the words were written. Although the Bible states that God made the sun stand still (Joshua 10:12), I realize that was written in a time when the sun was thought to circle the earth, so I interpret the passage accordingly. Although the Bible speaks of the earth having four corners (Isaiah 11:12), I realize that it was written at a time when the earth was believed to be flat. Although the Bible describes epileptic seizures as demonic possession (Mark 5), I realize that was written at a time before the advent of psychology in the 19th century.

As a Christian, I do not denounce science, but believe science to reveal truth about our world. Since I believe God to be the source of the world, I believe God to be the source of truth. Therefore, in the 21st century, I do not argue that the world is flat or that the sun revolves around the earth. I also do not practice demon exorcisms, and I do not believe for one minute that my college friend who suffers with severe epilepsy is possessed by a demon.

There was no knowledge of homosexuality as an orientation during the time period the Bible was written. Therefore, the word “homosexuality” does not occur anywhere in the Bible. Only words describing homosexual acts occur. In an age that was centuries behind any psychological or scientific understanding of sexual orientation, I believe some of the passages against same-gender sex were written with the understanding that all people are born with a heterosexual orientation. Therefore, the homosexual actions that are being condemned are actions of heterosexual persons. Thus, all homosexual acts were considered “unnatural” (Romans 1). Furthermore, such sexual acts were often committed to humiliate or dehumanize others. Thus, I believe some of the passages which are used to condemn homosexuality are actually condemning violent acts of degradation; not acts of self-giving love by two people of the same gender who are committed to loving one another.

I believe this is the sin most evident in the story of Sodom that we read in Genesis 19. The story reads:

The two angels came to Sodom in the evening, and Lot was sitting in the gateway of Sodom. When Lot saw them, he rose to meet them, and bowed down with his face to the ground. 2He said, ‘Please, my lords, turn aside to your servant’s house and spend the night, and wash your feet; then you can rise early and go on your way.’ They said, ‘No; we will spend the night in the square.’ 3But he urged them strongly; so they turned aside to him and entered his house; and he made them a feast, and baked unleavened bread, and they ate. 4But before they lay down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both young and old, all the people to the last man, surrounded the house;5and they called to Lot, ‘Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, so that we may know them.’

In the story, Lot extends gracious hospitality to two visitors (angels). These are considered to be unwelcomed outsiders or strangers by the people of the town. Verse four reads that “the men of the city” came and asked to “know” these men. “Know” is a biblical euphemism for sexual relations. Lot then “begs them not to act so wickedly.” Therefore, many have said that the wickedness of Sodom was homosexual behavior.

However, when one considers “both young and old, all the people, to the last man,” then it becomes obvious that this is a story of heterosexual persons desiring to have homosexual sexual relations for evil purposes. They desire to gang-rape these two outsiders as an act of humiliation to punish them for coming into their city. The wickedness of Sodom was violent acts of degrading inhospitality. Ironically, it is the same wickedness of many in the church who desire to mistreat and dehumanize homosexual people.

In the cultural context of scripture, I also understand that many of the laws of Moses (Leviticus 18, 20) were written to build a nation and to ensure that the Israelites were fruitful and multiplied. Therefore, since homosexual actions did not produce offspring, it was obviously condemned in the law. Semen, which was considered to be the source of future generations was understood as something very precious and was not to be wasted. This is why we read in Genesis 38 the story of God killing Onan for letting his ejaculate fall to the ground. Do I believe God really wants men to die if their semen is not always used for procreation? Of course not.

Jesus as a “Filter” in Interpreting Scripture

The main way I interpret scripture is as a follower of Jesus Christ. I confess Jesus as my Lord. This means that Jesus guides my interpretation of life itself. Jesus, then, becomes my criteria or my “filter” for interpreting all scripture. For me, Jesus is the fulfillment of all scripture (Matthew 5:17). Therefore, if a scripture passage is not in accord with the words and the works of Jesus, then I understand it as unfulfilled revelation.

There are countless examples of what I call “unfulfilled revelation” throughout the Bible. Because I seek to follow the way of Jesus, if my children every disrespected me, or if I ever smelled beer on their breath when they came home from a party, I never intended to follow the scriptures’ command by having them stoned to death in the town square. Deuteronomy 21:18-21 reads:

If someone has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey his father and mother, who does not heed them when they discipline him, then his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his town at the gate of that place. They shall say to the elders of his town, ‘This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious. He will not obey us. He is a glutton and a drunkard.’ Then all the men of the town shall stone him to death. So you shall purge the evil from your midst; and all Israel will hear, and be afraid.

When I conduct pre-marital counseling sessions, I never advise the groom to stone his wife to death if it is discovered that she is not a virgin on their wedding night. Deuteronomy 22:20-21 reads:

If, however, this charge is true, that evidence of the young woman’s virginity was not found, then they shall bring the young woman out to the entrance of her father’s house and the men of her town shall stone her to death, because she committed a disgraceful act in Israel by prostituting herself in her father’s house. So you shall purge the evil from your midst.

I also do not believe adulterers should be stoned (Leviticus 20:10), nor someone who marries his mother-in-law (Leviticus 20:14), nor someone who belongs to another religion (Leviticus 27:29), nor anyone for that matter as I cannot envision Jesus stoning anyone. Therefore, when I read that same-sex acts are an abomination and those who commit such acts should be stoned to death (Leviticus 20:13), I simply say, “Thank God that Jesus has taught us a better way!”

Although the New Testament admonishes women to remain silent in the church (1 Cor 14:34), I dare not ask the women in my church to keep quiet. Not because I do not want to be fired, but because I do not believe Jesus wants them to remain silent. The Jesus revealed in scripture continually liberated women, making them disciples, allowing them to even sit at his feet (a place reserved for only male disciples of a Jewish Rabbi) as he interpreted the scriptures. Furthermore, although the New Testament admonishes slaves to obey their masters (Ephesians 6:5-9, Colossians 3:22, 1 Peter 2:18) my faith in Christ who loved and valued all people does not permit me to argue for the institution of slavery.

Throughout the gospel narratives, Jesus continually lifted up the lowly, stood on the side of the marginalized and outcasts, ate and drank at the table with presumed sinners, and offered unconditional love, extravagant grace and unearned forgiveness to all. Therefore, when I read scriptures that command the hate and stoning of homosexual people or the marginalization or oppression of any group of people, I understand it as being unfulfilled as it is in disagreement with the words and works of Jesus my Lord.

ISSUE OF NATURAL THEOLOGY

Natural Theology is widely used by Christians as an argument against same-sex relationships. Natural theology argues: “If it is natural, it is good. If it is unnatural, it is sinful.” This is why some Roman Catholics do not believe in contraception and discourage masturbation. Sex is for natural procreation; not unnatural recreation. However, I know of no one who believes that the only purpose of human sexual relations is for procreation. Most all understand that “making love” is important for intimacy and bonding in the relationships of persons committed to one another. There is no denying that my wife and I are closer and are more connected because of our sexual relationship. There is a good reason we call it “making love” as sexual intimacy makes the bond of love stronger. This is one reason we do not want our young teens to have sex. It is not only the risk of pregnancy that we fear, but also the risk of them becoming emotionally connected to another before they are ready for such intimacy and love.

The Natural Theology argument that heterosexuality is good because there exists a natural opportunity for procreation also falls short when one considers the violent act of rape. This argument follows to the logical conclusion that if the rape is heterosexual, and there are no contraceptives in place, then it is natural, and thus good.

The reality is that not all heterosexual acts are good. Some heterosexual acts are pure evil, such as rape and the exploitation of trafficked persons. Other heterosexual behavior, albeit non-violent, can be degrading and selfish. The church and society has been guilty of overlooking this reality. It is a tragedy that when I married my wife in 1988, it was still legal in the state of North Carolina for a man to rape his wife.

CONCLUSION: ISSUES OF GRACE AND LOVE

It is not the flaws in Natural Theology or even using Christ as the criterion for scriptural interpretation that truly informs my stance on this issue in the light of faith. For me, it comes down to my faith in the extravagant and oftentimes offensive grace of Jesus.

In Ephesians 1 we read these words: “He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace that he lavished on us.”

I believe the entire Biblical witness testifies to this grace. It is a grace that lavishes. It is a grace that is extravagant, offensive and even appears overdone. The following are words I gleaned from a sermon by United Methodist Bishop William Willimon:

Cain killed his brother Able in the very first chapters of our Bible. And what does God do? God lavished Cain. Cain is exiled from the community because of his actions, but God promises to go with him to protect him (Genesis 4).

Moses killed an Egyptian, breaking one of the big Ten Commandments. But God chose that murderer to reveal those commandments to the world and to lead the Israelites out of bondage into the Promised Land (Exodus 2).

David not only committed adultery, but killed the husband of his mistress (2 Samuel 11). Yet, Matthew proudly announces David in Jesus’ genealogy (Matthew 1).

When it comes to forgiveness, when it comes to grace, when it comes to love, God lavishes. God always seems to overdo it. The riches of God’s grace are extravagant and even offensive.

The story of Jesus’ first miracle is a great example. When the wine gave out at a wedding party, what does Jesus do? He turns water into more wine. Not just some water into a little bit of wine. He makes, according to John’s estimate, about 180 gallons of the best-tasting wine they ever had. That sounds very gracious and extravagant to me. It also sounds like he may have overdone it a bit.

Then, there are all those stories that Jesus told. A farmer sows way too much seed. Most of it was “wasted,” falling on the wrong type of soil. But I suppose when sowing good seed in bad soil, you have to overdo it. You have to lavish the dirt with seed. And the seed that did manage to take root produced a harvest that is described as abundant.

The father of the prodigal son didn’t just welcome his returning son (who had committed untold sexual sins). That in itself is extravagant. But the father lavished the son. The father said to his servants, “Quickly bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on my son; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet.  And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate!

It wasn’t that the Good Samaritan stopped and helped the wounded man in the ditch. It was the way he stopped and helped. It was the way he lavished the man pouring expensive oil on his wounds. Then he put the wounded man in his car. He took the man to the hospital and told the doctors, “Forget about filing insurance! Here’s all my credit cards, my checkbook, everything. I’ll be back in a week, and if that’s not enough money to treat the man’s wounds, I’ll give you even more!”

The reason that so many of us attend church at Easter is because God lavished us. When God offered us the very best gift that God had to offer, the gift of God’s self through Jesus of Nazareth, we reciprocated that gift with the very worst that we had to offer, the cross. But three days later, God not only raised Jesus back to life, but God gave him right back to the very ones who nailed him to a tree.

There’s something built right into the nature of God, it would seem, that tends toward extravagance and abundance and excessiveness.

As people who have been called to inherit this nature, as the Body of Christ in this world, how do we live?  Are we stingy with our love?  Are we miserly with our forgiveness?  Do we scrimp on grace? Are we tight-fisted with the good news? Do we truly believe that the greatest commandment is to love God and our neighbor as ourselves? Do we truly believe that the greatest gift of all is love?

For me personally, the issue of LBTQIA persons, as it relates to the church and faith, all comes down to the following:

I am an imperfect man living in an imperfect world. I have chosen to give meaning to my life and to others by deciding to follow Jesus as a disciple. My discipleship is not perfect.  I stumble, fumble and bumble behind Jesus. I do not have all of the answers, and while I am attempting to follow Jesus, I am bound to make many errors in judgment. However, if I am going to make an error when it comes to loving, accepting, and embracing another, especially one who has been marginalized and demonized by society and the church, I have chosen to err on the side of grace, even if I overdo it.

There are two things I do every Sunday morning that informs my theology. One is praying the Lord’s Prayer. The second is sharing the Lord’s Supper. I pray “forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass  against us.” I drink from a cup and remember Jesus’ words: “This cup is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” I pray for forgiveness and I drink forgiveness and am reminded and challenged that as I am forgiven, I am called to forgive others.

Even if other Christians believe that I am wrong, and they firmly believe that, in God’s eyes, same-sex relationships are “an abomination,” I believe the overall message of the Bible persuades them to choose not to condemn, but to forgive. Choose not to hate, but to love. Choose not to restrain, but to lavish. Choose grace. Always choose to err on the side of graciously overdoing it.

Furthermore, for the very life of me, I can think of no harm that can come to the world or to the cause of Christ by overdoing it on the side of grace. I know of no lives that have ever been destroyed by overdoing it on the side of love. However, I am very aware of the irreparable harm and the deep wounds that come from withholding grace and restraining love as countless lives have been destroyed and lost to murder, war and suicide. The church has been embarrassingly and tragically guilty of doing tremendous damage to the world, as well as to the mission of Christ, by failing to follow Jesus’ simple command to love one another.

Of any human institution on this fragmented planet, the church should be a place where all people are welcomed to join a community of grace, love and forgiveness. Without fear of being judged, condemned and ridiculed, all people should feel welcomed to come as they are and honestly and openly confess their sinfulness and brokenness. And receive grace. Receive love. Receive salvation. And then share it with others. I believe that every church should be “open and affirming” because no church should never be “closed and condemning.”

ISSUE OF CHURCH LEADERSHIP

Sadly, the majority of churches exclude LGBTQ+ persons from church leadership. Current leaders of countless churches have judged their lifestyles as sinful, and thus unfit for leading others to love others. However, because I believe all Christians are sinners, yet God calls all people to do ministry, then I do not believe there is any issue whether or not a gay or transgendered person can be a leader in the church.

There is no doubt in my mind that LGBTQIA people, who have been mistreated and condemned by society and especially by the church, have a very powerful message of love and grace to offer the world. I believe they have something very valuable to teach all of us about the love and grace of Christ, as well as what it means to be fully human.

ISSUE OF SAME-SEX MARRIAGE       

“Biblical marriage” is convoluted to say the least. As far as we know, Jesus was not married. The Apostle Paul did not recommend marriage (1 Corinthians 7:8). Polygamy is endorsed by the Old Testament as a valid lifestyle for men (not women). The Old Testament is also full of archaic laws treating the woman as property in marriage. One law states that the wife is to be awarded to the husband’s brother in the event of the husband’s death (Deuteronomy 25:5). The Ten Commandments even treat the wife of a husband as property (Exodus 20:17).

Jesus spoke of marriage (Mark 10), but whenever he did, he did so to forbid divorce in order to protect the rights of the woman. Jesus valued women not as property but as children of God. Thus, when Jesus spoke of marriage, he was more concerned about the injustices that had been perpetrated against women within marriage than he was setting forth a prescription for marriage. Jesus spoke more about the importance of loving and upholding the rights of our vulnerable partners in marriage more than he spoke about males and females loving one another in marriage.

Many argue against same-sex unions stating that the purpose of marriage is for procreation. However, I cannot count the number of weddings I have officiated for couples who have surpassed the child-bearing age or are otherwise unable to have children. I have never said in any marriage ceremony that the purpose of the union is to bear children. What I do say is that “God has ordained the institution of marriage to guard, hallow and perfect the gift of love.”

If two adults love one another and desire to make a commitment to God to remain faithful to one another, to selflessly love and to cherish one another in a monogamous relationship until death parts them, to guard, hallow and perfect love, I cannot envision the Jesus that is revealed to me through scripture condemning such a desire nor preventing such a commitment. I have yet to officiate a same-sex marriage ceremony. However, in this fragmented world filled with such hate and loneliness, I will never stand as an obstacle to love.

ISSUE OF CIVIL RIGHTS

People in the church are using the Bible today in the 21st century to support the discrimination of homosexuals with the same type of biblical interpretation that people in the church used to support slavery in the 19th century and the Jim Crow laws of the 20th century. As a follower of the Jesus who continually stood up for the rights of the poor and disenfranchised, I believe the church should do everything in its power to stand up for the rights of all minorities, including homosexuals.

ISSUE OF TRANSGENDERED, BISEXUAL, ASEXUAL, QUESTIONING PEOPLE

This issue probably deserves another 6,000 words. However, because the original question that I am addressing is regarding homosexuality, I am going to sum my stance in only a couple of short paragraphs.

We live in a fragmented world. I believe each person in this world, including me, is fundamentally flawed. This is why we need grace. This is why we need love. This is why Jesus said he came into the world to save it, not condemn it (John 3:17).

The Southern Baptist Convention voted a few years ago to condemn transgendered people, as they have homosexuals and bisexuals (http://www.patheos.com/blogs/johnshore/2014/06/the-southern-baptist-convention-throws-transgender-people-under-the-bus/). Southern Baptists do not think they have made an error. They have no doubt about it. As I previously stated in the beginning of this document, I am hardly ever that sure of myself. However, I am sure of one thing. I believe in love. I believe God is love. I believe Christ exemplified and commanded love, especially toward those considered to be different, those that society marginalizes. I believe we were created for such love.

Again, if anyone thinks I am in error in dealing with this issue, I am perfectly okay with that; because if I am going to make errors in this world, I am always going to err on the side of love. I am going to err on the side of grace. And I am going to overdo it. I am going to do my best to love God and all of my neighbors. And all means all.

Locked Doors

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

lockJohn 20:19-31 NRSV

On the evening of the first Easter, we find the disciples of Jesus cowering together in a house. Windows shut, shades pulled, curtains drawn, shudders closed and the doors have been locked up tight. It is nighttime, a dangerous time in any city, but this is Jerusalem, and here, on this night, the disciples had some pretty good reasons to lock the doors.

The most obvious reason their doors were locked was the fear that the institutional, religious authorities who organized and began plotting from the very beginning to put an end to Jesus and his message were quite possibly even now plotting to put an end to them.

So the disciples locked the doors.

And then, there may be another reason, earlier in our text we read where Mary Magdalene has told them, “I have seen the Lord.”  And what do they do?  They locked the doors.

After denying that he even knew who Jesus was, I’m sure Peter felt like locking the doors. After fleeing and deserting Jesus, leaving him to die alone between two thieves, I’m sure many of the disciples felt like locking the doors.

This image of locked doors has had me thinking all week. As I have pondered this image, I cannot get the words of my home pastor out of my mind. Every Sunday, during the Invitation, he always said the same words: “The doors of our church are now open for membership. If anyone here would like to be received into full membership into our church, you are invited to come down during the singing of this hymn.

Remembering these words this week has caused me to ask a question, a question that I believe is imperative for the church in the 21st century to ask: “Why do you suppose so many people today, especially people in their 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s, when it comes to church membership, also feel like locking the doors, locking the doors to even the thought of becoming a part of the church?”

From asking this question to countless people all over this country who have given up on the church since I was ordained in 1992, this is what I have discovered:

The reason that most young people give for locking the doors to even the very thought of being associated with the church is that they simply have no trust in organized, institutional religion. In fact, they regard the church the same way the disciples cowering behind closed doors regarded the religious system of their day—as a threat to Jesus and everything for which Jesus stood.

They hear some of their friends, the ones who do proudly profess to be a part of a church, on a tirade protesting against such things as equal rights, social justice, equitable healthcare, and any criticism about the gap between poor and the rich. They hear their church friends make scornful remarks about minorities of every persuasion, and they know just enough about Jesus and his affinity for the poor and the marginalized to know that something is terribly wrong with this picture.

Many young people today in no way want to be associated with the words of many in the church who make heinous claims on the behalf of God, such as: tornadoes are God’s way of getting our attention, the Haiti earthquake as well as Hurricane Katrina were directly linked to Voodoo or Catholicism; the Japan earthquake and tsunami and the South Asia tsunami were directly linked to Buddhism or Islam; or the events of 9-11 and the subsequent deaths in the War on Terror are God’s judgment on abortionist and homosexuals.

Young people today do not want to be associated with a religion that has preachers and congregations who picket the funerals for our soldiers who paid the ultimate sacrifice, yelling hate-filled rants declaring that their deaths are the will of God.

They hear preachers declare from their pulpits that either the American President or the Pope is the anti-Christ. And they look at institutional, organized religion these days and think that we may be the ones who are anti-Christ. So, like the disciples distancing themselves from self-righteous and judgmental organized religion, young people are locking their doors to the church.

And secondly, as the disciples also hid behind locked doors avoiding Jesus, there are some who are not simply avoiding organized religion; they are avoiding God. When they lost their grandparents, their parents, or some, their children, the response from their Christian friends was that God took them. God needed another angel, another flower in the heavenly garden.

The response of some in the church was that all of their loved one’s pain and suffering and their subsequent death, that their child’s untimely and tragic death was all part of some purpose-driven divine plan. So they lock the doors, wanting absolutely nothing to do with a God like that.

Whatever the reason for the disciples’ fear, the irony of our gospel lesson is that the judgmental, organized religious authorities were not trying to get to the disciples to arrest them and Jesus was not trying to get to them to punish, condemn them or take their lives. As I said at the Sunrise Service last week, Jesus was trying to get to the disciples in order to give them the word that they needed more than any other word—the very first word of the Easter story.

On Easter evening, the Risen Christ returns to his disciples, the same fearful followers who denied, forsook and abandoned him and pronounced “Peace!”  It was the same word that was proclaimed at his birth by the angels in the beginning of the gospel.  “Glory to the God in the highest and on earth, peace!”  And it was one of the last words from the cross when he said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”  And here, the first word of Easter to the fearful disciples cowering behind locked doors is “Peace.”

THIS is what I believe all people need to hear from the church, and it needs to be the very first word they hear from us.

The first word they hear from the church should never be judgment, condemnation or some loud, angry, hate-filled rant or protest. It should never be that God took her or snatched him, or is punishing them, or trying to get their attention because of some sin. No, the first word they need to hear from us is “peace.”  They need to hear God say, “Peace. My peace I give to you. You are my sons. You are my daughters, I have always loved you.  I still love you. I will love you forever. I am here with you and for you, always working all things together for the good.”

I believe people in our world who have locked their doors to the church are thirsting for this peace. They are thirsting for a group of people in our world that have the audacity to truly live as the embodiment of Christ in this world offering the first word of Easter, the peace of Christ to a fearful world through selfless, sacrificial love and service to others. They are thirsting for a church that seeks to be, not an institution, but the living embodiment of Christ in this world, serving the poor, and those whom society has marginalized, offering grace, acceptance, love and peace.

Several Easters ago, we went to visit my parents in Elizabeth City.  We had a nice dinner, watched the Masters, and then ate some leftovers before heading home. It was late when we arrived back home, about 11:00.  And guess what?  We were locked out. In a hurry to leave after church, I had accidentally grabbed the wrong set of keys.

As Lori and Sara sat in the car, twelve year-old Carson and I checked every window on the first floor.  All locked.  “I guess I’ll break a window.”

“Wait a minute,” Carson, who has always had a lot more patience than me, said. “I think the window in the middle dormer upstairs is unlocked.” I grabbed my extension ladder that was much too short for the job.  I stood it almost straight up and asked Carson to hold it at the bottom as I climbed up.  Got myself on the roof in front of the dormer, but before I could reach it, because of the pitch of the roof, and the dew that had gathered, I began to slide off.  Came down, feet hit the ladder, almost knocking it over. I put a death grip on my shingles with my hands. Grabbed the top of the ladder with one foot and straightened it out with the other as Carson helped at the bottom.  I don’t know if he was more scared that I was going to fall and kill myself on the brick steps below or fall right on his head.

After one more idiotic try to climb on the roof, it occurred to me, “Maybe I can peel the vinyl ceiling back on my back porch just enough to climb up into the attic. Got my pry bar, and went to work.  Less than five minutes later, I was inside.

Now, was my wife happy?  Was I the hero of the night?  Was she proud of my resourcefulness and my persistence?  No, she was absolutely horrified by how quickly I broke into our securely locked house. “If a preacher can break in, anyone can!” she said.

This is the good news of this Easter Season. Our securely locked doors are not a problem for Jesus.  Here is the promise of Easter for each of us today. Just as the risen Christ was not stumped by the locked doors behind which the disciples cowered, so I promise you that the risen Christ will not be deterred by the locks that any of us or anyone else has put on our own doors.  Our God is wonderfully resourceful, imaginative, persistent, and determined to get to all of us.  Even in our lostness, even in our betrayals and denials, even with all of our past failures, Christ is ever determined to share his peace with us in this world.

I believe Christ is as alive today as he has ever been. I believe he is on the loose, even here in Farmville. He is moving and working and he is as determined as ever to get the word out…the very first word of the gospel proclaimed by angels, and the last word proclaimed on the cross and the first word of Easter: peace.  The question is: will he be able to use us? Will we allow him to breathe the Holy Spirit on us and send us into the world to help him share that word—a word of unlimited grace, unreserved forgiveness and unconditional love for all God’s people, especially to those who have locked the doors to the possibility of being a part of the church.

Will he find a group of people here that have the audacity to truly live as the embodiment of Christ in this world offering the first word of Easter, the peace of Christ to a fearful world through selfless, sacrificial service to others?

From what I have learned about you over the last seven months, and from what I what I see in you every week, I believe the answer is ABSOLUTELY!