Tag: Peace

Things Are Getting Scary Around Here

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

 Mark 4:35-41 NRSV

There was a great church pianist and composer studying in Chicago who was known throughout the Midwest as Georgia Tom. He was scheduled to help with a revival at a large church in St. Louis about a month before his wife was due to have their first child. He was afraid to leave her so close to the due date, but he was committed to fulfill the promise he made to the church over a year earlier.

As soon as he got off the train in St. Louis, someone handed him a telegram which read: “Congratulations, you are the father of a new baby boy. However, it is with deep regret that we inform you that your wife died during childbirth.”

He boarded the next train back to Chicago. Overcome with grief, he arrived at the hospital to hold his new-born baby in his arms—however, shortly after he arrived, this little boy, the only part of his wife that he would ever be able to hold again, passed away in his sleep.

Georgia Tom took a leave of absence from his studies, and his ministry. He moved to South Carolina where he did little but grieve. It was sixth months before was able to sit down at the piano and compose a song. When he did, these first words that he wrote and set to music were the following:

Precious Lord, take my hand. Lead me on, help me stand. I am tired, I am weak, I am worn. Thro’ the storm, thro’ the night, Lead me on to the light. Take my hand, precious Lord; lead me on.

Georgia Tom, or Thomas Dorsey, as evidenced by this wonderful hymn and a long-life lived in dedication to God, knew what the disciples knew about Jesus. That Jesus is the one who helps us overcome our fears. Jesus is the one who helps us get through the storms of life, figuratively and literally, into a peace that is beyond all understanding.

In today’s lesson, Jesus and the disciples are in a boat. It is night, a dangerous time to be on the sea. And sure enough, “a great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.”

The fearful disciples cry out to Jesus who is sound asleep on a cushion in the stern: “Teacher! Don’t you care that we are perishing?”

Of course, Jesus cares. He wakes up and stands up. He immediately rebukes the wind and speaks against the waves. And a miraculous calm settles over the sea.

This is what God does. When we call on God in the storms of life, if we allow him to take our hand like Thomas Dorsey did, it may take some time, but we believe miraculous calm will settle over us. As disciples, we have perhaps experienced this.

This is what makes our scripture lesson this morning so strange. After Jesus rebukes the wind and speaks against the waves, after he brings a miraculous calm, notice that the disciples are still afraid.

In the Greek New Testament, Mark says that the disciples not only feared, but they “feared a great fear.” After Jesus calms the storm, the disciples become more afraid than ever.

Notice, that it is then Jesus asks: “Why are you afraid?” I’ve stilled the storm. I’ve calmed the waves. Why are you, even now, afraid?

And then, fearing a great fear, the disciples begin to ask one another, “Who is this that even the wind and the waves obey him?”

The disciples were afraid, but now they are afraid for a very different reason. I believe it’s a completely different kind very different kind of fear. First, there’s the fear of the death-dealing storm. Death, divorce, disease, in a thousand different ways, the storms of life come. You receive a grim diagnosis. A good friend loses their job. A child dies. Winds are howling. Waves are crashing. And we cry out to Jesus, “Do you not care that we are perishing?”

Of course, Jesus cares. He wakes up, stands up, rebukes the wind and speaks out against waves, and all is calm.

And the disciples have never been more afraid.

This is the fear that comes from standing in the presence of the one the wind and the sea obey. This is the fear that comes with the realization that this one who has been teaching them how to love this world, is none other than the Creator of all that is.

Thus, it is the fear that comes with the realization of the personal change and sacrifice that following the creator of the universe that is demands.

This is the fear that comes with the realization that when any of God’s children are perishing, it is God who is calling the disciples to care, to wake up, to stand up and rebuke the winds of injustice, to speak against the waves of oppression.

This is the fear that comes with waking up to the realization that if they want be on the side of the Lord of hosts, the Master of the earth, wind, fire and sea, then they must love this world as he does.

If they want to stand with the Most High, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, then they must stand with the sojourner in their land, with the vulnerable in their midst, with those who mourn and grieve their lives, with all who hunger and thirst for justice.

And with that realization, the realization that they must always be on the side of the underprivileged and the powerless, comes the fear of the push back that will surely be coming their way by the privileged and the powerful. This is the persecution that Jesus points out in the beginning of this chapter when he compares those who acquiesce to evil to avoid persecution, or those who are seduced by power and wealth, to seeds falling on rocky soil.

I cannot tell you how many times I have been asked: how are things going your new church? And each time, I respond the same. “Things are great! I am loving it!”

But perhaps the way I should be responding to this question, the way you should respond when people ask you is: “How are things going? Well, to tell you the truth, it’s a little scary. Doing this work of following Jesus wherever he leads is downright frightening. And being a part of such a church, well, it’s like fearing a great fear!”

For you see, I am working alongside people who believe God, the Holy Creator of all that is, is wide awake in our midst. Christ himself is here rebuking and speaking out against the storms of life. But at the same time, he’s shaking things up! He’s stilling the waters, but he’s also rocking the boat! He’s recreating and resurrecting. He’s making all things new. He’s creating a brand-new world: a world where every human being knows they are loved, where justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. He’s creating a world where no person perishes but has eternal life, a world where every life is equally valued. He is calling us to wake up. He is calling us to care. He is calling us to take a stand. He is calling us to go out into our world to love in a way that will not only be socially unacceptable, but will certainly upset the privileged and the powerful. He leads us out of one kind storm only to lead us directly into another kind of storm!

So, you see, being a part of a church that is committed to following the sacrificial, justice-seeking, love-winning way of Jesus is a most frightening venture!

But here’s the good news. When Jesus cared, woke up and stood up, rebuked the wind and spoke against the sea, I believe another realization came: This way of Jesus, this way of inclusive, sacrificial love, has the power to literally change the world!

When we follow the way of Jesus, when we care, wake up and stand up, rebuke the wind and speak out against the waves the whole world can change.

When we care, wake up and stand up, rebuke the wind and speak out against the waves by standing with poor people, then poor people can receive affordable housing, healthcare and education. They can earn fair living wages.

When we care, wake up and stand up, rebuke the wind and speak out against the waves by standing with the oppressed, discrimination of every kind will be defeated and liberty and justice will come for all.

And, although none go with us, we still will follow. Although our friends forsake us, we still will follow. Although family members desert us, our cross we still will carry. Although persecution befall us and things get scary, we still will be unashamed to faithfully preach the gospel and be unafraid to sing aloud with the Psalmist:

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth should change,

though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea;

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;

God will help it when the morning dawns.

The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter;

he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our refuge.

Come, behold the works of the Lord…

…He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;

he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;

he burns the shields with fire…

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our refuge (Psalm 46).

A Cloudy Ascension Sunday on Mother’s Day

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Easter, Sermons Year B2 Comments
Photo taken by Carrie Knutsen

Acts 1:6-11 NRSV

In today’s epistle lesson, on what the church traditionally calls Ascension Sunday, we have one of the first hints of how we are capable of mucking up the purposes of God in this world.

 It’s the first inkling of how we got to this place today where the Christianity not only doesn’t look anything like the way of love that Jesus taught and embodied, but in many ways, looks like the exact opposite.

The risen Christ has been telling his followers for months that he would one day leave them and how he expected them to continue his mission in the world loving one another as he loved, by being his hands and feet in the world, and in today’s lesson, we read where time had come. But before he departed, they asked him: “When will you come again and restore the kingdom to Israel?”

 Jesus replied: “It is not for you to know the time or the period…But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea, and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

With those words, he ascended into heaven and left the followers of standing there, looking up into the clouds.

And while they had their heads in the clouds, suddenly, angles show up saying: “Why do you stand there looking up toward heaven?”

Jesus’ followers were instructed to get their heads out of the clouds. They didn’t need to be alarmed about the departure of Jesus, because one day, God’s kingdom would fully come, the day is certainly coming when love will finally win. The disciples are not told when, but they didn’t need to know.

“All you need to know,” said the angels, is that the Kingdom is coming. Justice will prevail. Love will eventually win, and here’s the thing, you are going help to make that happen! That is, if you get your head out of the clouds and keep loving this world as you witnessed Jesus loving this world, if you keep being his “witnesses to the ends of the earth.”

I believe this wonderful Ascension story has much to teach today’s church that seems that still seems to have its head somewhere in the distant clouds.

Angels say: “Church, God needs you to get your heads out of the clouds, get your minds off going to heaven, and come back down to earth and to do something for this world. Do the things that you witnessed Jesus do in the gospels. Feed the hungry. Make a place at the table for the left out and the left behind. Stand up and speak out advocating for those who are marginalized by sick religion and greedy politics. Love your neighbor as yourself. Give something, create something, be something that will make a positive difference in the world, especially in the worlds of those considered to be the least of these.

Get your heads out of the clouds, come back down to earth and go to Jerusalem. Go all the way to Richmond and Washington DC to be public moral witnesses of the Jesus who preached good news to the poor and freedom for the oppressed. Why are all of you hunkered up in one place? Don’t close yourself up in a sanctuary of comfort and security. Get out of here. Go into all of Judea. Go all over Central Virginia. Go to places like Samaria and Palestine, those place that you may not want to go. Be witnesses to the ends of the earth to the good news of the inclusive, unconditional, generous love of God that Jesus revealed, embodied, and commanded.

And what’s the church’s response:

But these clouds are so pretty. They are so soft. So comforting. Let’s just stay right here. Let’s keep our heads in the clouds.

Giving ourselves to transform the world seems too risky, too hard, just too exhausting. Everyone knows that standing up for the marginalized won’t get you very far in this world, and fighting for the rights of the oppressed will only get you in trouble. It’s all too costly. After all, look what it cost Jesus.

So, instead of all of that, let’s make the faith about these pretty clouds. We can even get some smoke machines to create some real clouds in our worship centers. Instead of inspiring people to give, live and love like Jesus, let’s just encourage people to worship Jesus. Instead asking people to feed the hungry and fight for the least of these, let’s just study Jesus with a cup of coffee, sing praise hymns to Jesus and listen to sermons about Jesus.

We are going to take this clear, but very uncomfortable, call to go into all the world to fight for the least of these, and we are going to cloud it up by turning it into a religion, better yet, we are going to make it a blissful, personal, relationship that we must have as a ticket to heaven.

Then, we can use this ticket-to-experience-the-clouds-of-heaven- while-avoiding-the fires-of-hell to frighten people to do things that serve us. We can cloud it up a bit more and get people to love the Bible more than they love Jesus. Then we can use the Bible as a tool, really as weapon, to protect our power and privilege, to keep us comfortable and to even make us some money.

And if we must compromise a little, even cloud it up more with some dark, mean, sinister clouds to get it, that will be ok. If we have to lie a little,  hurt the planet a little, stir up a little racism and bigotry, scapegoat a group of people, pay workers a low wage, even embrace a little Nazism along the way, it will be worth it. Because at least we will be more comfortable, our taxes will be lower, and our wealth, you know, it will eventually trickle down to the least, right?

To say that we have clouded up what it means to be a public witness doing the things that Jesus did in this world is an understatement.

Which makes it all the more ironic, that this year, Ascension Sunday falls on Mother’s Day. Because we have done the exact same thing to the original Mother’s Day proclamation written by a prophet named Julia Ward Howe in 1870. We have taken a clear call to action, a summons to work and sacrifice to make this world more loving, more peaceful and more just and clouded it up creating something that serves our own interests.

Howe writes:

Arise, then, women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts, whether our baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly:

“We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies.

Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.

Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.

We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”

From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.

It says: “Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”

Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession. As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar, but of God.

In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.

And what was the response?

We’ve all become more committed to the general interests of peace? To the relearning of charity, mercy, and patience? To disarmament? To the recognition of the one great human family? To living for God and not for Caesar?

No, that’s too risky, too costly, too woke. I tell ya what. Let’s make it about clouds, soft, fluffy, white clouds.

And in 1914, a white supremacist named Woodrow Wilson proclaimed Mother’s Day a national holiday– as a moral call for world peace and justice? As a call for mercy and patience? A call for a world summit of women to negotiate how nations can finally live in harmony?

 Nope. He clouded it up, making it a “public expression of our love and reverence for all mothers.” Instead of making it a call for a ceasefire, a call to disarm, and to work for peace; instead of making it a plea to create sensible gun laws, we will make it about flowers, candy and greeting cards.

And what was the church’s response to the original Mother’s Day proclamation?

Do we finally answer our call to be prophetic witnesses for world peace and justice? Do we finally stand up for God’s children everywhere who are bullied, mistreated, and harmed for being different, for being poor, for belonging to another ethnicity or nationality or religion?

In the words of Hosea, do we finally rise up and “fall upon those who do harm” to any of God’s children, even if they are from Samaria or Palestine, “like a bear robbed of her cubs” (Hosea 13:8)? Whenever we see injustice in our world, whether it comes out of Washington DC, Richmond or Lynchburg, do we finally echo the words of the prophet Isaiah: “For a long time I have held my peace, I have kept still and restrained myself; now I will cry out like a woman in labor, I will gasp and pant” (Isaiah 42:14)?

No. That’s too risky. It’s much too costly. So, what do we do? We cloud it up. We sentimentalize it. We make this day in the church about recognizing the oldest mother and the youngest mother with flowers. We make it about giving a special gift to all mothers who attend worship.

And on Mother’s Day in 2024, the church looks nothing like the clarion call of Julia Howe to be prophetic voices of peace and justice, as on this Ascension Sunday, it looks nothing like the summon of angels to go into all the world to live, serve and love like Jesus.

Now, I love my mother. I called her first thing this morning. Most of us love our mothers. We wouldn’t be here without them. And I love church. I love worship. I love our faith. But the truth is: we’ve clouded it all up.

Today, on this cloudy Ascension Sunday on Mother’s Day, I believe God wants those who claim to be friends of Jesus to get our heads out of the clouds to heed the clear call of angels and a prophet named Julia. Let’s be moral witnesses continuing the work of Jesus in this world. And today, let’s rise up with women everywhere to be public prophetic voices for peace and for justice, a holy movement for wholeness in this fragmented world.

Christmas Shoes

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

Mark 1:1-8 NRSV

About the gift of Christmas, the gift of God’s enfleshed self to the world, John said, “I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals.”

It was written in Jewish law that “pupils should do everything that is commanded by their teacher with the exception of unlacing the teacher’s shoes.”  The subservient task of kneeling to the ground and unlacing another’s shoe was something only a slave should perform.[i]

 This means that John not only regarded himself unworthy to be a disciple of Jesus, John believed he was unworthy to even be a slave of Jesus. When he compared himself to the one wearing the shoes of Christmas, John regarded himself as lower than the lowliest lowly.

And who could blame him? John was talking about God, the Holy Creator of all that is, the Divine One, Love Love’s self who has come down to earth wearing shoes. John was talking about the great sovereign of the universe from on high, miraculously and lovingly stooping low enough to the earth to kneel down to the ground, put on, lace up and wear shoes. John was talking about heavenly feet accustomed to walking on streets where angels trod that have put on earthly shoes in order to walk the same roads each one of us walk.

Although it was John’s plan to make our windy and rocky roads straight and smooth for these holy shoes, the purpose of the divine shoes was to walk every crooked path, experience every twist and turn, identify with every bump, every dip, every rut. The Lord of Hosts stooped down, knelt down, and laced up shoes to walk down snaky roads; travel down uncertain roads; journey down long, lonely, and desolate roads.

God knelt down and put shoes on feet that would grow weary and sore from those roads. God laced up shoes that would cause great suffering when Jesus’ feet would swell, blister and bleed.

Those shoes ran down fearful, foreign roads to escape Herod’s sword. Those shoes would journey down dark, dangerous wilderness roads that try the soul. Those shoes would travel down desperate roads to bring good news to the poor. Those shoes would travel down neglected roads to give dignity to those marginalized by a religion that had been hijacked by greed and privilege. Those shoes would walk roads lined with the hypocritical and judgmental to defend and forgive the sinner. Those shoes would move down roads paved with suffering to heal and restore the sick. They would go down tear-soaked roads to comfort mourners and raise the dead. They would march down fearful roads to stand for justice and to bring peace.

And near the end of his road on this earth, those holy shoes, worn, frayed and tattered by life, would lead him to a table with his friends. After supper, he would get up from that table, take off his outer robe, and tie a towel around himself. He would then pour water into a basin. And like his humble beginning in a lowly manger, he would once again stoop down, kneel to the ground, and lovingly, empathetically and subserviently untie the shoes of each one at that table, even the shoes of the one who would betray him and of the one who would deny ever knowing him.

Now, in the historical and cultural context of the day, the disciples’ shoes would be removed long before they reclined at the table. However, figuratively and theologically speaking, Jesus untied their laces and removed their shoes.[ii]

Relief, respite and release overcame them as they realized that none of their unworthiness prevents their Lord from graciously taking their feet into his hands and washing away all the dirt and grime from every road they had ever traveled. None of their filth is too offensive. There are no stains too deep. The fresh water from the basin that restores, refreshes and relaxes their wearied feet is miraculously transformed into living water that saves their wearied souls. And a holy peace beyond all understanding overwhelmed them.

The good news of Christmas is that the Holy One, whose laces John believed he was unworthy to untie, comes to us, stoops down, kneels before us, and unlaces our shoes, freeing us in the places we have been too tightly bound.  He empathetically takes our feet into his hands and washes our dirty, sore and weary feet, and makes us ready for the road again.

That is the good news of Christmas. Now, listen to the good irony of Christmas.

John believed he was unworthy to untie the shoes of Christmas. However, because of the good news of Christmas, John is not only worthy to untie and remove those shoes, John is actually worthy to put on, lace up,  and wear those shoes.

Through the gift of Christmas, through the gift of the God who has walked where we walk, through the gift of the Divine who stoops down, unties and removes our shoes, washing our feet and our souls, we are made worthy to not only untie the shoes of Christmas, but to wear the shoes of Christmas. We are worthy to put on Christmas shoes to go where he went, to do as he did, to include as he included, to forgive as he forgave, to love as he loved, to bend ourselves to the ground to touch the places in people that most need touching.

It is believed that fourteenth century saint Teresa of Avila once said:

“Christ has no body but yours, no hands, no feet on earth but yours.
Yours are the eyes with which he looks with compassion on this world, and yours are the feet with which he walks to do good.”

The Apostle Paul has written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the good news” (Romans 10:15).

Don’t worry. It is perfectly natural to feel unworthy to untie those laces, to wear those shoes, to be the hands, the feet, the body of Christ.  And if you believe you are unworthy you are in very good company.

Abraham and Sarah did not believe they were young enough to be worthy (Genesis 17:17). Jacob was not truthful enough to be worthy (Genesis 27). Moses was not articulate enough (Exodus 4:10). David was not faithful enough. (2 Samuel 11:2-4). Rahab was not pure enough (Joshua 2:1). Jeremiah was not mature enough (Jeremiah 1:6). Mary was not rich or powerful or old enough (Luke 1).

Yet, God makes the unworthy worthy to be God’s enfleshed presence in this world, to be God’s body, hands, eyes, and feet in this world. As the Apostle Paul reminds each of us:

 “Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong” (1 Corinthians 1:26-27).

United Methodist Bishop William Willimon tells a wonderful story about a visit to a fraternity house one night while he was the campus minister at Duke University. The reputations of the fraternity houses at Duke were getting so bad that the University Dean required each fraternity to have a certain number of religious programs each year to give them at least some semblance of respectability.

 One of the fraternities invited Willimon to lead one of the programs. He was tocome to the frat-house and give a lecture on “Morality and Character on Campus.”

On the appointed evening, Willimon went to fraternity and knocked on the door. When the door opened, he was greeted by a young boy who appeared to be nine or ten years old.  He thought, “What in the world is a little boy like this doing in a frat house at this time of night?”

“They are waiting for you in the common room,” the little boy said politely. Willimon followed the boy back to the common room where all the young men were gathered, glumly waiting for the preacher’s presentation.

Willimon says for about an hour he talked about morality, responsibility, character and faith and how the frat houses on campus gave little evidence of any of those things. When he finished his harsh talk he asked if there were any questions. Of course, they were none. So, he thanked them for inviting him and headed out.

 One young man got up and walked him to the door. Before they got to the door, Willimon overhead him say to the little boy, “Hey buddy, you go and get ready for bed. I’ll come up, tuck you in and read you a story in a few minutes.”

When they got outside, the fraternity boy lit a cigarette, took a long drag on it, and thanked the pastor for coming out.

 Willimon turned and asked, “Who is that kid in there, and what is he doing here?”

“Oh, that’s Donny,” said the young man. “Our fraternity is part of the Big Brother program in Durham. We met Donny that way. His mom is addicted to drugs and is having a tough time. Sometimes it gets so bad that she can’t care for him. So, we told Donny to call us if he ever needs us. We go over, pick him up, and he stays with us until it is okay to go back home. We take him to school, buy his clothes, books, and stuff like that. Just trying to give him a little bit peace in his life, if you know what I mean.”

The dumbfounded preacher stood there and said: “That’s amazing. You know, I take back everything I said in there about you guys being immoral and irresponsible.”

“I tell you what’s amazing,” said the college boy as he took another drag on his cigarette, “what’s amazing is that God would pick a guy like me to do something this good for somebody else.”[iii]

 In other words: “What’s amazing is that God, the Holy Creator of all that is, would make an unworthy guy like me worthy to not only untie, but to wear the shoes of Christmas.”

[i] Alan Culpepper, Smyth and Helwys Commentary: Mark, 2007, p. 47.

[ii] From a sermon by J. Will Ormond entitled Advent on a Shoestring preached during Advent in 1987 at the Columbia Theological Seminary.

[iii] From a sermon by William Willimon in Pulpit Resource, January 2006, p. 19.

Remembering Naomi Hatley: Things Are Not What They Appear to Be

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Memorials1 Comment
Naomi Pic
Naomi Hatley
April 17, 1924 – November 16, 2018

Esther 9:20-23

John 16:20-24

The late Reverend Warren Carr, a friend of mine and mentor, once said that a person’s eulogy in a Christian memorial service should be limited to those aspects of a person’s life that proclaimed the gospel, proclaimed the message Jesus proclaimed.

The good news is that we have much to say about Naomi today for she proclaimed the message of Jesus in ways that Rob and I never could.

When many think about proclaiming Jesus, they might first think about preachers. However, as those words attributed to St. Francis, “Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary, use words,” teach us, you don’t have to be preachy to preach.

Naomi was anything but preachy. Her faith was quietly practiced but deeply felt. Always self-effacing, she never imposed her faith on others.

However, her faithfulness was clearly evident to all. Many witnessed her faith through her active participation with this church as she led worship by singing in the choir and playing bells with the Primetime Ringers. She was an active member of the Christian Women’s Fellowship and possessed the heart of a servant, always enjoying potluck dinners and other fellowship occasions. When she could no longer drive to church, she had the church van pick her up at Butterfield Place so she could be here to faithfully worship and serve with her family of faith.

However, this was certainly not the only way that Naomi proclaimed the gospel.

It could be said that Jesus spent much of his ministry trying to teach us that things are not always as they appear to be. Sometimes reality is the exact reversal of actual appearances.

For example, Jesus said that those who appear to be last are actually first. And those who seem to be first are actually last.

In his first sermon, he said that it is not the rich who are blessed, it is the poor. It is the not the strong who inherit the earth, it is the meek. The Apostle Paul said it is not the wise who shame the foolish, but it is the foolish who shame the wise. It is the weak who shame the strong.

The gospel continually teaches us that things are not what they appear to be.

Of course, Naomi, first taught us this reality with her name.

It is not Nayomey or Nyomi.

It is Nayoma.

No matter how it is spelled, or what you’ve heard, or what you’ve read, no matter what you’ve seen or think you see and hear right now, things are not what they appear to be.

Naomi taught us this gospel truth in many other ways. Perhaps the the ways we will most remember, and for which we are most grateful, are the ways Naomi taught us, in the words of Ralph Sockman, that “nothing is so strong as gentleness, and nothing is so gentle as real strength.”

If you thought Naomi was gentle and quiet, then you probably never watched a Dallas Cowboy or Arkansas Razorback football game with her.

If you thought Naomi was a non-athletic spectator, someone who sat serenely on the sidelines of life, you probably never saw her slalom waterski, which she did until the age of 69 when she fell and cracked three ribs.

If you thought Naomi was this prim and proper Southern Belle, you probably never saw her play in the waves of the ocean. You never heard her laugh like a child as the waves would crash over her head knocking her off her feet.

If you thought Naomi only enjoyed soft church music, the chimes of handbells, the harmonious sound of a choir, a piano and organ reverently praising God, then you’ve probably never been to an Eric Clapton concert with her.

If you thought her husband of 66 years Pete, with his large, confident personality was the rock of the family. Then you probably didn’t know Naomi as well as her children knew her, as one with an iron backbone in a fluffy coating.

If you thought Naomi might be a pushover, a softy, a patsy you were probably not raised by her and as one of her children never did anything or said anything that would make her chase you with a fly swatter.

And you probably did not do or say anything that caused any harm to any of her children, because you would have quickly discovered that, like a mama bear robbed of her cubs, you simply do not want to mess with Naomi.

Naomi was soft as a pillow, but she was hard as a rock.

Naomi was tenderly ladylike, but she was a tough old broad.

Naomi was humble and unassuming but the sound of her laughter, the melody of her heart, and loud reverberations of her spirt can still be heard today.

Like the good news of the gospel, things are not always what they appear to be.

Of course Jesus taught us this reality to lead and to guide us down a certain path, on a specific journey, on a particular and peculiar way:

A way where the hungry are filled with good things and the rich are sent away empty;

A way where those who mourn are comforted and the meek inherit the earth;

A way where those who are hungry and thirsty for justice are satisfied;

A way where those who show mercy because they know they need it for themselves receive mercy;

A way that those who may not be pure, undefiled and unbroken on the outside will see God.

It is a particular and peculiar way where peacemakers are called children of God, the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk and outcasts are included.

It is way that always graciously extends hospitality, always asking if you need anything to eat, something to drink, a time to rest.

Her children tell me that had to stop visiting their mother when it was mealtime at the nursing home. Because she would always try to share her food with them. No matter her circumstance, the needs of others came before her own. Whenever it appeared that you were the one being hospitable to her, being a blessing to her, she was actually being a blessing to you.

This is a way that sets a high bar in a culture that seems to have no bars, that offers a righteous morality in a culture influenced by a distorted morality, that teaches ethics rooted in a selfless, self-expending, self-effacing love for this world and every human being in a culture with ethics rooted in greed and self-interest.

Jesus also taught us that this particular, peculiar counter-cultural way is the way to life everlasting. To save ourselves, we must lose ourselves. To truly and fully live we must die. And all who embrace this way, live this way, though they are dead, live.

The good news is as Jesus and Naomi taught us, things today are not what they appear to be.

Four years ago, when Naomi broke her hip, and then suffered a stroke during surgery becoming wheel-chair bound and unable to communicate clearly, it appeared that her life was over. She had no reason to live, no reason to smile, and certainly no reason to play the piano.

However, this tender soul made even more tender by the difficulties of life was a tough old broad, under the fluffy and frail coating, an iron backbone was as strong as ever. Thus, Naomi continued to play that piano. She continued to live her life and she continued to be grateful and always found a reason to smile.

No, nothing in this world is what it appears to be. Nothing this hour is what it appears to be.

Naomi appears to spell her name Naomi yet it is Naomi.

Naomi appears to be buried in the National Cemetery, yet her music is still filling this sanctuary.

Naomi appears to be gone from our presence, yet her gifts live on through her children and grandchildren.

Naomi appears to be dead and no longer in our presence, yet those of us with faith know that she is alive and is in the presence of the Lord.

It appears to be a cold, dark, rainy day, but somehow, some miraculous way, the sun is shining.

When some learned of her passing, they may have thought about how losing someone during a holiday week makes it all the more heartbreaking. Families are supposed to be gathering together this week to celebrate life and to give thanks for the blessings of life. They are not supposed to be gathering for a memorial service.

But the good news is, things are not what they appear to be.

In the wonderful little book of Esther, we are told about the Persian Empire’s plot to destroy the Jewish people. Under Queen Esther’s leadership, the Persians are defeated and Israel was saved. Mordecai, who had adopted Esther, and raised her as if she was his own blood, decreed that the days had been transformed “from sorrow into gladness and from mourning into a holiday; that they should make them days of feasting and gladness…”

There is no doubt in my mind that on this day after Thanksgiving with Advent and Christmas approaching this family is going to be alright. Pray for them, but don’t despair for them. Console them, but don’t pity them. For if Naomi taught them anything, it is that these days are not as they appear. What is going on right now, today, this very hour, is not what it may appear.

Sorrow has been transformed into gladness. Pain has been turned into joy. A day of mourning has been transformed into a holiday, and everyday are becoming holy days. And because we believe what Naomi proclaimed with her life, this week of Thanksgiving will always be for her family days of feasting, gladness and celebration. Thanks be to God.

Profiting from Perpetual War

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn Short ArticlesLeave a comment

dwight-david-eisenhower-photo-portrait-cbs-archive-1964

Today, we remember and give thanks for those who have given their lives in the service of our nation. During the pastoral prayer yesterday, many pastors in our country asked God to help us honor their memory by…

…caring for the family members they have left behind, by ensuring that their wounded comrades are properly cared for, by being watchful caretakers of the freedoms for which they gave their lives, and by demanding that no other young men and women follow them to a soldier’s grave unless the reason is worthy and the cause is just.[i]

The late pastor of Riverside Church in New York, Harry Emerson Fosdick, once said:

I hate war for its consequences, for the lies it lives on and propagates, for the undying hatreds it arouses.

In January 1961, President Dwight D. Eisenhower used his farewell address to alert the nation of what he viewed as one of its greatest threats: the military-industrial complex composed of military contractors and lobbyists perpetuating war.

Eisenhower prophetically warned that “an immense military establishment and a large arms industry” had emerged as a hidden force in US politics and that we “must not fail to comprehend its grave implications.”

Failing to heed his warning, today we find ourselves in perpetual war. While perpetual war creates perpetual losses for families and perpetual increases in our national debt, it also creates perpetual profits for private business.

In 2015, the Department of Defense budgeted more money on federal contracts, $274 billion, than all other federal agencies combined. In 2016, CEOs of the top five military contractors earned on average $19.2 million each — more than 90 times the $214,000 earned by a U.S. general with 20 years of experience and 640 times the $30,000 earned by Army privates in combat.

In his sermon on militarism at Riverside Church in 1967, Martin Luther King, Jr., one of the leaders of the original Poor People’s Campaign said:

If we do not act, we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.

To honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country, I believe we must do all that we can to escape this dark corridor, or at the very least, be dragged down it kicking and screaming.

This is just one of the reasons the Poor People’s Campaign has been reignited. We are marching and screaming that no more blood will be shed for this country unless the reason is worthy and the cause is just.

Calling for a moral revival in this nation, we do not believe we can remain silent when we discover the immoral profit that is being made by perpetual war.

We cannot remain silent when we hear war-mongering speech from our leaders that supports this immoral profiteering.

We cannot remain silent when our leaders call for a privatization of the Veterans Administration that will allow corporations to profit from the injuries of war.

We cannot remain silent when the Commander-in-Chief, who has the power to declare war, lies repeatedly to the American people.

We cannot remain silent when we learn that 53 cents of every federal discretionary dollar goes to military spending, and only 15 cents is spent on anti-poverty programs, many of which assist our veterans.

We cannot remain silent when those who profit by war proliferate our peaceful communities and with weapons of war that kill our children.

We cannot remain silent when people of color are being unjustly victimized, demonized and dehumanized by a “war on drugs” or a “war on terror” that has become a war on the poor.

We cannot remain silent when children who are immigrants are being separated from their families to support a political agenda.

We cannot remain silent when the political agenda is to support a war economy for the financial benefit of a few. If we want to honor those who gave it all for our country, we must agree as a nation that it is morally indefensible to profit from perpetual war.

Speaking on behalf of those who sacrificed their lives in WWI, Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae ends his beautiful poem In Flanders Fields:

To you from failing hands we throw the torch; be yours to hold it high.

May we honor their fallen hands by holding high the torch of truth while marching for peace.

[i]J. Veltri, S.J.

 

Mirroring the Self-Giving Love of the Triune God

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

reclaiming jesus

2 Corinthians 13:11-13 NRSV

We Americans are often guilty of trivializing things that are important. Consequently, survivors of loved ones who gave their lives for their country often struggle during the Memorial Day Weekend, and rightly so. For it can sometimes be difficult to tell if Americans truly know what Memorial Day is about.

Is it about the end of the school year and the beginning of summer? Is it about going to the beach, the river, or the lake? Is it about playing golf, having a cookout, or opening the backyard swimming pool? Is it about red-tag sales at the mall or some other self-fulfilling activity?

No, it is about sacrifice. It is about self-denying, self-expending love. It is about people giving all that they had to give, for they so loved their country more than self.

This weekend is about honoring those who died for us, and it is about praying for those they left behind. It is also a time to recommit ourselves to those who continue to selflessly fight evil in our world, evil that demeans, devalues and destroys human life and sometimes does it in the name of God.

May God forgive us for forgetting what this weekend is all about or watering it down for our own selfish gain.

I am afraid that we have done the same thing to the Christian faith. Consequently, followers of Jesus everywhere struggle, and rightly so. For it can sometimes be difficult to tell if Christians really know what the gospel is about.

Is it about judging and condemning others who believe and live differently? Is it about pure beliefs and possessing an attitude of superiority? Is it about having the right to discriminate and treat others who differ from us as second class citizens? Is it about banning people of other faiths from our communities? Is it about depleting our natural resources because we believe the Lord is returning and the world is ending in our lifetime? Is it all about going to heaven one day or on some other self-absorbed venture?

No, our faith is about sacrifice. It is about self-denying, self-expending love. It is about a God giving all that God has to give, for God so loved this world more than God’s self.

Thus, faith is about honoring a God who died for all. It is about recommitting daily to continue to selflessly fight the evil in our world, evil that seeks to demean, dehumanize and destroy human life and sometimes does it in the name of God.

Monday is Memorial Day. May we remember what it is truly about. And everyday is the day the Lord has made. May we remember how God is made known to us, relates to us, and loves us, and how God calls us to make ourselves known to, relate to and love the world.

This is where I believe the doctrine of the Holy Trinity can really help us—Three persons in one. Throughout the centuries, people have been trying to explain this complexity in simplistic language.

You have probably heard that God is like a pie. You can cut a pie into three pieces, but it’s still one pie. Or God is like many of us. I’m a brother, a father, and a son, but I am still one person. Or God is like water, and water has many forms: steam, ice, and liquid, but it is still water.

However, I believe each of these descriptions only scratch the surface of who our God truly is. It is only a watered-down, version of who our God is. Furthermore, it is defining God based on our understanding of the world, instead of allowing our understanding of God to define the world.

God, the creator of all that is, the power behind our universe, gave God’s self, emptied God’s self, poured God’s self out and became flesh and dwelt among us through Jesus Christ.  And Jesus Christ, while he was on this earth, gave himself back to God by becoming obedient to God even to death, even death on the cross. But before he left us on this earth, he promised not to leave us orphaned, he promised to be with us always by giving himself back to us through the Holy Spirit.

Do you see the one characteristic of the Holy Trinity which stands out?  God gave God’s self through the Son. The Son gave himself back to the Father. And God once more gives God’s self back through the Holy Spirit. God is a self-giving God. God is a God who loves to give to others the very best gift that God has to give, the gift of God’s self.

God is a giver. That means that God is not a taker. For givers are never takers.

Isn’t interesting that many Christians, often characterize God as a taker? Again, I think it is because we like to create a God in what we want our image to be, instead of allowing the image of God to define and guide us.

For example: How many funerals have we attended and heard the phrase: “God took her home or God was ready to take him?”

We have all lost loved ones to death. But the Trinity teaches us that Lord did not take them. For givers are not takers. A more accurate way of describing what happened to our loved ones when they breathed their last on this earth is that God wholly, completely and eternally, gave all of God’ self to them.

When we experience the heartache and heartbreak of this fragmented world, there is one thing of which we can be certain, God is here with us, not taking, but giving us all that God has to give, the best gift of all, the gift of God’s self.  If we don’t know anything else about God, we can know this. For it is God’s very nature.

As we renew our discipleship mission as a church, let us renew our commitment to mirror our God by living not as takers, but as givers.

For I believe with all of my heart that mirroring the self-giving love of God that is revealed to us in the Holy Trinity can help us reclaim the gospel that has been high-jacked by people who prefer to live in this world on their terms instead of on God’s terms.

Mirroring the self-giving love of God can help us recover our faith that has been co-opted by takers, by people who have used and misused the name of God for their own selfish gain

For if we mirrored the Triune God as self-giver, think of how everything would change.

Think of how our Christian faith would change. Our faith would not be about what we can take from God—healthier marriages, stronger families, deeper friendships, peace, security, comfort, a mechanism to overcome trials or to achieve a more prosperous life, or even gain an eternal life.

Our faith would be what we can give back to the Holy Giver—namely all that we have and all that we are, even if it is costly, even if it involves risk, danger and suffering, even if it involves the loss of relationships, stress on our marriages, sleepless nights, a tighter budget, even if it involves laying down our very lives.

Church. Church would not be about what we can take from it. It would not be about getting fed, experiencing some peace, attaining a blessing or receiving some inspiration to help us through the week.

Church would be about opportunities for self-giving. Church would be about feeding the hungry, working to bring peace, being blessing to our communities and inspiring the world. Church would no longer be a place that we go to on Sunday, but who we are every day of the week, the body of Christ, the very embodiment of holy self-giving love in the world. Church would not be a way to for us to get some Jesus. Church would be way we allow Jesus to get us to love our neighbors as we were created to love.

And our neighbors. We would look to our neighbors, not for what they can give us, not for what we can take from them, or how we can use them, but for what we may be able to offer them, especially those things that others are constantly robbing them of in order to support their dominance and superiority over them—their dignity, their equality, their value as human beings created in the image of God, their hope, their freedom, their justice.

We would look to our city, our state and our nation, not for what we can selfishly take from it, but for how we can selflessly give to it to make it a more just place for all.

The environment would not be something for us to take from, plunder and exploit for our own selfish wants, but something for which we sacrificially care for, respect, nurture and protect.

I believe if we would truly mirror the triune image of our God as givers instead of as takers, God’s kingdom would fully and finally come on earth as it is in heaven.

Mirroring the triune image of God as self-givers can rebuild a broken world.

Mirroring the triune image of God as self-givers can correct a distorted moral narrative.

Mirroring the triune image of God as self-givers can heal sick religion.

Mirroring the triune image of God as self-givers can bring down walls and break the chains of injustice.

Mirroring the triune image of God as self-givers will erase racism and sexism. It will end sexual harassment and assault.

When we mirror the triune image God as givers, all hate, bigotry, and violence will pass away, and all of creation will be born again.

When we mirror the triune image of God as givers, liberty and justice and peace will come, and it will come for all.

When we mirror the triune image of God as givers, the words of the prophet Isaiah will be fulfilled:

Many peoples shall come and say,
‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.’
…[Then] they shall beat their swords into ploughshares,
and their spears into pruning-hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more (Isaiah 2:3-4).

The First Easter Word

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn EasterLeave a comment

 

Easter Welcome

Sermon delivered at the 6 PM service  following the first Enid Welcome Table Meal, Easter, 2017

John 20:19-23 NRSV

The very first word that the risen Christ brought to his fearful and anxious disciples who denied and abandoned him was: “PEACE!” “Peace be with you!”

It was the same word that was proclaimed at his birth by the angels: “Glory to the God in the highest and on earth, peace!” And it was the last word that came from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

“PEACE!” It is the word that every human being living in this fragmented world needs to hear from our risen Savior.

Thus, after Jesus pronounced the word to his disciples, he said, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

The Church has been commissioned by none other than the risen Christ to share this word with others. “PEACE!” It is the word people need to hear from the church more than any other word, and it needs to be the very first word that they hear from the church.

However, sadly, even after nearly 2000 Easters, churches all over this world have ignored this commissioning. And tragically, the very first words that many hear from the church are words that denote the exact opposite of peace.

The first words they hear from many in the church are words of judgment and condemnation. They hear loud, angry, hate-filled rants and protests. They hear words judging them as not only sinners, but as “abominations.” In the name of God, they are condemned by those who justify their hate with the same type of Christ-less scriptural interpretation that was used to support sexism, slavery and racial discrimination.

They may hear reserved words of welcome to come in and sit on a pew, but they clearly get the message right away that they are not to expect to truly become a part of the church. They are not to expect to be able to use their gifts to serve with and alongside those who have been deemed worthy for service. They are not expected to be truly accepted, forgiven, and loved.

However, I believe the Risen Christ still speaks to his disciples today. He is still saying to us that first word of Easter, “PEACE;” and is still saying, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”

For God knows that there are people in every town, at every crossroad,  who hunger and thirst for a community of people in our world who have the audacity to truly live as followers of Christ who take the commission of their Risen Christ seriously to share “PEACE” with all people.

They are yearning for a church that seeks to be, not an institution or club of moral and devout people with right religion, right beliefs, right color and right lifestyles, but a church that seeks to be the living embodiment of the Risen Christ in this world, serving, loving, accepting and embracing the poor, the lost, the broken, the fearful, the grieving, those riddled with guilt and shame, and those whom society has rejected as outcasts, offering them the unlimited hope, unfettered grace and unreserved love that is in that first beautiful first Easter word, PEACE.

Lost Without Christmas

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

nl-Griswold-HouseLuke 3:1-6 NRSV

The pet peeve of nearly every pastor this time of year is driving around town seeing the number of houses which are decked out very ostentatiously with Christmas lights and decorations while knowing that the people living in those houses will not step foot in a worship service during the entire Advent and Christmas season. They have the biggest Christmas tree in their living room, the most lights on the trees in their yard, the prettiest wreaths on their doors, the brightest candles burning in each window, appearing from every indication to be anticipating the coming of Christmas, the coming of the Messiah, Savior and King; yet, for some strange reason, they do not feel the need to gather together on the Lord’s Day to worship and acknowledge their need for Christ. They have no desire to be here this morning to a light another candle in anticipation of advent of Christ.

I wonder what they are celebrating? What has brought their lives so much fulfillment and happiness and peace that they have the energy and desire to go all out decking their homes with lights and evergreens and candles but have no desire to gather for worship? What is so wonderful about their lives which makes them feel as if they simply do not need Christ in their Christmas?

What are they celebrating?  Getting off a few days of work to spend with their lovely families?  Presents? Santa Claus?  Christmas parties and dinners?  Their home?  Are their decorations merely saying, “Look at me!” “Look at my beautiful yard and my beautiful house? Look what I have built!  Look what I have bought!”

During a conversation with a friend of mine from seminary who was serving as a missionary on the outskirts of the Republic of Congo, I said:

Brad, I don’t know how you do it. How you can leave all that our wonderful country affords us to share the gospel of Jesus Christ in a depressed third-world country!

To my surprise, he responded:

To tell you the truth Jarrett, I don’t know how you do it!  How on earth do you share the gospel of Jesus Christ in the affluent United States?  How do you convince people who have everything that they need a savior!  People are so spoiled in the U. S.  They have so much which they believe brings them happiness and fulfillment and peace. They don’t believe they need Christ. People where I minister have nothing. They are starving for the gospel!  They need the gospel!

We do have much, don’t we? The very best technology: computers, smart phones, smart watches, and smart TVs with digital signals carrying more information than our brains can possibly  comprehend beamed from satellites that were employed by space shuttles!

Yes, perhaps all of us living in the affluent West are tempted to look for our peace and fulfillment in the vast accomplishments of humanity. We marvel at science and technology and say, “Look at us, look at what we can do, look how smart we are!”

Because our capitalistic economic system is based on the what humans can accomplish if they are given the freedom to work for themselves, all of us have more clothes than we could ever wear, more food than we could consume, and bigger houses than we really need.

And with our freedom, we have so many choices. We can do so many different things. We can go to so many wonderful places. With our freedom there are no limits to what we can be and we what we can do and where we can go!

We are free to make as much money as we possible can, to marry who we choose, to have as many children as we want, and to live in the neighborhood and home of our choice.

Perhaps that is what so many are celebrating with their lights and evergreens and candles. They are celebrating freedom. They are celebrating the American way of life. They are celebrating their material possessions. They are celebrating technology and the accomplishments of humankind. They are celebrating Santa Claus and his great big bag of goodies made by the hands of mortals. They are celebrating family, the gift of human love and children.

So, maybe my missionary friend is right. In America, we are free to have so much which brings so much happiness and fulfillment and peace that there is really no need for a Savior.

Yet, deep inside, we know, that even within our wealthy country, within our most affluent communities, there is indeed much unhappiness and unfulfillment.

If wealth and freedom and smart human accomplishments are all they’re cracked up to be, why does the United States have highest rate of suicide per capita than any other nation on the planet? If our children have so much more, more opportunity, more toys than the other children of the world why is the suicide rate for children 14 and younger double that of other nations?

I believe that one problem we have with our country is that it takes a great degree of honesty to admit our unhappiness and unfulfillment. After all, with our great freedom of choice, we are free to fashion our lives as we choose. If the lives that we fashion are unfulfilling, guess whose fault it is? We have nobody to blame but ourselves; therefore, we are reluctant to admit to any sense of unfilfillment and unhappiness. Our pride and our ego prevent us from admitting that we ever reflect on our lives and ask ourselves the question: “Is there anything more than this?” We can’t admit that we are in need, that we yearn for something more.

So we cover it up with lights and evergreens and candles. We say to the world: “Look at me, I am happy, I am fulfilled. I don’t need church. I don’t need worship. I don’t need community. My choices and my consumerism are enough. My house, my clothes, my toys, my freedom, my family, my intellectual prowess is all I really need. It is enough.”

And yet, deep inside, we know that it is not enough. Deep inside we all know that there has to be more, but because of our freedom, our pride and arrogance, we are afraid to admit it.

Advent is a season of looking for something. It is a season of hoping and believing that “there has to be more.” It is a season of yearning.  Have you noticed the hymns we sing during Advent? Not the Christmas carols, but the advent hymns like the one we are going to sing in a few moments. The hymns we sing this time of the year are somewhat restrained. They speak of desire, of waiting, of expectation. The Advent prophets speak to a people suffering from homelessness and despair. It is no coincidence that John the Baptist’s voice is that of one “crying out in the wilderness.”

John the Baptist is crying out in the wilderness, because that is where the good news of the gospel is needed. In order to hear the message of Christmas, we must first realize that we are living in a wilderness. We must be able to be honest and say: “The choices I have made on my own have not brought me fulfillment. My freedom, my material wealth, my high tech gadgets, my diplomas, a nice home, a nice car, a vacation in Hawaii, New York, Paris or Southern California, even a wife, two kids and a dog are not enough. I need something more!”

With our freedom, it takes courage and it takes conviction to admit to yearning, to admit to our need to look for something else.

In order to see the fragile light of Christmas, we must first realize that we are in the dark. Even in an information age, we must confess that humankind does not have all of the answers. Advances in technologies, and the freedom to make choices and to make money cannot protect us from our dark world of evil.

As much as we try to decorate it with lights and evergreens and candles: gadgets break; space shuttles crash; family members get sick; relationships fail; loved ones die. Human beings, with all of their potential to accomplish good, are at their core, depraved.

A beautiful December 7th Sunday morning in Hawaii and a crisp September 11th Tuesday morning in New York City can be suddenly transformed into a burning hell without notice. An evening on the town in Paris, even a joyous Christmas party with friends and co-workers can become scenes of unimaginable tragedy.

One of the greatest things about coming to this place during this time of the year is that here, before God, in the midst of a dark world of falsehood and deceit we can be honest. We can come here, if just once a week, and tell the truth.

We can be honest and admit that nothing Santa could ever bring us, nothing made by mortal hands, will bring us fulfillment and peace. Nothing we can accomplish with our freedom and our intelligence can bring us joy.

So, maybe that is the real reason people will not step foot in a church this Advent and Christmas season. Because, what they see here is often really no different than what they see out there. They see, in the church, people who believe they have it all figured out; they have all the answers; they have everything they need for peace and fulfillment; they no longer have to keep yearning for Christmas; they no longer live in the desert. They see people who are unwilling to be honest.

So, here, in this place, let’s get back to what our faith is all about: honesty, authenticity. Let us be honest and admit that we do not have what it takes to experience true peace.

So, hear the good news on this second Sunday of Advent. To those of us who are honest enough to admit that we live in exile, in the wilderness, lost, wandering, hear the good news that God is making a way.

Listen to John the Baptist: “Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.”

God is making a way through our desert, a highway straight to us.

Let’s be honest. Let’s realize that we need more, and let’s keep looking, keep yearning, keep working, keep serving, keep loving, and keep inviting others who do not have a church this season to join us, until we shall see the “salvation of God.”

Until we shall see Christmas and truly know peace, now and forevermore.

Peace Be with You: Remembering Albert Mosley

On By Rev. Dr. Jarrett BanksIn MemorialsLeave a comment

Albert Mosley 1 (3)In the sixteenth chapter, the 33rd verse of John’s gospel, we read words of Jesus that cannot be more true: “In the world you will have tribulation.”

Jesus didn’t say we might or we may have tribulation. Jesus said that we will have “tribulation.” Other translations read: “torment,” “trials,” “trouble,” “sufferings,” “distress” or “persecution.”

In this world, we will suffer. In this world, we will lose people we love, sometimes tragically. In this world, we will be injured, sometimes in terrible accidents. In this world, we will be diagnosed with sickness, sometimes with dreadful diseases. In this world, we will have failed relationships, sometimes divorce. Jesus said that in this world suffering is inevitable.

Albert Mosley could certainly testify to this truth.

Albert had just started high school here in Farmville when his father tragically committed suicide. Later, Albert, himself, would be critically injured on the football field. Years later, there would be the sudden and untimely loss of his mother, a risky back surgery, a grim diagnosis of Addison’s disease, broken relationships, the loss his best friend Ronnie Avery, incessant physical pain, diabetes, debilitating strokes and blindness.

Now, if this was the only testimony that Albert Mosley’s life could give, that in this world, we will have tribulation; then today would certainly be a sad and tragic day for all of us. However, the good news is that this was only a small part of Albert’s testimony.

Jesus said: “In this world, you will have tribulation.” Now, let’s read the entirety of this verse: Jesus said: “I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33).

After Albert lost his father, Albert did not hesitate to courageously become the man of the house, take care of and look after his mother, his six siblings, maybe especially, his little sister, Donna. Albert resonated with the great song by Clarence Carter, “Patches,” intentionally becoming the one that his family could always depend upon.

In spite of the tragic loss of his father and the increased responsibilities for his family, Albert somehow miraculously managed to excel in school. And in spite of some very good reasons to be bitter and angry, Albert possessed such a sweet and loving disposition that the girls in this town affectionately called him “teddy bear.”

However, I am certain that no one called him a teddy bear on the football field. Albert was an exceptional athlete, a strong, ferocious hitter. Perhaps football became the outlet for some of some of his anger that he had to have harbored. He hit someone so hard one night when Farmville was playing at Ayden, that it put Albert in the hospital where he was in a coma for three weeks.

And yet again, although he had even more reasons to become angry or bitter at life, Albert took heart and persevered.

After he recovered, he finished high school and went on to Atlantic Christian College, where he again continued to excel, earning the prestigious Top Hat Award. After college he went on to get a Masters in Education degree at Old Dominion University. Upon graduation, he taught school briefly until he was quickly promoted to principal.

Later, he became Vice President of the Virginia National Bank in Franklin, Virginia and in 1982 was awarded the “Boss of the Year” Award from the Franklin Jaycees. He was also awarded the #1 Jaycee President Award in the state of Virginia.

Then, as Jesus promised all of us, more tribulation would come to Albert, this time in the form of sickness and disease. However, in spite of every tribulation in his life, Albert always miraculously found a way to persevere, to love his life, and to love others. You could see it on the dance floor when you watched him Shag, Twist or do the Gator. In spite of everything, Albert was still the sweet, pleasant, fun-loving teddy bear.

I met Albert twelve or thirteen years ago. He had retired and moved back to Farmville to be with the family he loved. He had experienced many more ups and downs in his life. I watched him grieve deeply when his friend Ronnie passed away, and I witnessed his health continue to decline. The truth is that I have watched him suffer perhaps more than anyone I know. I cannot count the times I have visited him in the hospital and doubted that he would ever make it home.

Yet, I never heard him, not one time, not even in the hospital or in the nursing home, ever complain or grumble. Even when he lost his eye sight, his ability to walk, his ability to swallow just a sip of Diet Pepsi, Albert remained positive. In fact, I never heard him say anything negative, about himself or anyone for that matter. Even in his darkest moments of life, he loved his life, and loved those who were in his life.

Bro was always more concerned about others, than he was himself, especially his siblings. No matter how sick he was, if you asked him, he was always fine. And then he would ask you about others.

Doctor J,” he would say, lying in the hospital, unable to see, blood sugar over 200; “Have you seen Donna? How’s ol’ Carson and Sara doing? How are things going at the church? I got to get myself straight so I can come back there.”

And nearly every time before I left his side, even in ICU after his debilitating stroke in November, he would miraculously say to me, “Peace be with you.” And the miracle was not only that Albert could speak those words of peace, but was how it was obvious to all that in spite of every tribulation, Albert actually possessed this miraculous peace. And he truly wanted to share it with others.

The only way that can possibly explain how Albert endured the tribulations of his life is that the God of Jesus, somehow, some miraculous way came to Albert, obviously since he was a young boy, and filled him with this peace that surpasses all human understanding.

The disciples of Jesus also knew something about the ups and downs of life. Like a star football player, a teddy bear that the girls adored, or the vice president of a bank, the disciples had experienced some very high moments in life. They were with Jesus when he healed the sick, gave sight to the blind and raised the dead. Some of them even went to the mountaintop with Jesus and stood with him in the very presence of God. They rode triumphantly into Jerusalem with Jesus as little children lined the streets waving their palm branches.

And the disciples certainly knew something about tribulation. They were with Jesus when he was arrested in the garden. Some betrayed him. Others denied him. They all deserted him. They had made mistake after mistake, and they knew it. And they watched in horror as the one for whom they left their families and all forms of worldly security be tried, tortured and crucified.

Three days later, John writes that they were cowering in fear in a locked room. Rumors were floating all over town that the body of Jesus had been stolen, and the ones who destroyed Jesus and had taken his body would soon come to destroy and take them.

So, there they were, cowering behind locked doors. They could not have been more afraid. They were not unlike: a small boy who discovers his father’s suicide; a star athlete who is severely injured on a football field; or a well-respected and successful professional whose declining health had stripped nearly everything from him.

Then Jesus comes. We can’t explain how. The doors are locked. The windows are barred. But Jesus somehow, some miraculous way comes; he stands among them, and says: “Peace be with you.”

And this is not some superficial word of peace that denies or overlooks human tribulation and suffering. It is a genuine word of peace that acknowledges the pain of life, recognizes the wounds of today, but also the certain hope of a better tomorrow. Jesus shows them the wounds in his side and in his hands and says again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you. When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’”

The disciples then went out and lived the rest of their lives sharing the grace and peace of Christ with others. And they shared it to the end, even in the face of great persecution, suffering and death.

This is how I will always remember Bro. Like the first disciples, Albert was an imperfect man who suffered much tribulation in this world. However, although I cannot fully explain it, it was obvious to all that knew him that Jesus, somehow, some miraculous way, came to him. Through the love and faithfulness of his wife Ginny, certainly; through the love of his family and friends, definitely; and through divine and mysterious ways that surpasses all human understanding, Jesus came to him and filled him with this genuine peace, and then, sent him out into the world forgiving others, loving others, sharing the peace of Christ with other.

Days before Albert died, Becky said that Albert asked her if Chester could maybe spend the night with him in the nursing home. Becky said, for the first time, I could tell that he was somewhat afraid. And who would not be? In a nursing home, blind, nearly paralyzed, dying: he had more reasons to be afraid than anyone.

However, Becky said that when Albert breathed his last breath on Tuesday, that she had never seen anything so peaceful. I drove her and Chester home from the nursing home that day, and she kept saying, all the way home, “Thank you God, thank you God.”

The good news for all of us is that we have the certain hope that, once more, when Albert experienced his final tribulation on this earth, somehow, some miraculous way, Jesus once again came to Albert, as Jesus had obviously came so many times before, and lovingly tugged Albert’s ear saying: “Peace be with you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled, and do not let it be afraid” (John 14:27). Jesus came to him and filled him once more with a peace that is beyond all understanding, and this time, it is for eternity.

May this wonderful truth give peace to all of us who are still experiencing the tribulations of this world this day, tribulations that will continue in the days ahead. Through the memory of Bro, may we hear the risen Christ speak to us words that cannot be more true: “Peace be with you.”

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!