September 29, 2013 LUKE 16:19-31 NRSV

September 29, 2013

LUKE 16:19-31 NRSV

¹⁹"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. ²⁰And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, ²¹who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. ²²The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried.

²³In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. ²⁴He called out, 'Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.'

²⁵But Abraham said, 'Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. ²⁶Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.'

²⁷He said, 'Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house-²⁸for I have five brothers-that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.'

²⁹Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.'

³⁰He said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.'

³¹He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

***

This is one of those texts, that upon first reading, seems unsalvageable for a Presbyterian preacher. In general, anything with hell, and especially anything about burning in hell, I tend to avoid. It seems too big a task to unexplain literal interpretation, reexplain metaphor, and still be left time to get through a message of hope and grace. If I had not been preaching the Luke lectionary consecutively for weeks now, I would have likely picked another. While the parable itself is good, and in fact very precisely written - with all sorts of opposing parallels, of poor and rich, heaven and hell, this world and the next, its theological message is problematic.

I believe in a God of justice, but I don’t believe God’s justice looks like this. I don’t believe that some people are condemned to a life of suffering poverty and eternal reward, and others a life of wealth and an afterlife of extreme torture. I don’t think God is that black or white, nor we that good or evil. I also don’t think that God ever stops trying to save us, be it in this world or the next, and so I have to look beyond the parable’s face value. I have to look beyond the parable, to what is happening outside its simple message. I have to look inside the parable to what Jesus might be explaining to the Pharisees at that moment. I have to look to where the scripture meets us today, to the place where its words are not about God’s final answer, but instead about God’s continuing grace and our everlasting hope.

A parable is always a story inside a story, and when we look outside the parable, we find Jesus explaining and arguing his point the the Pharisees. The Pharisees were wealthy religious leaders of their time, and it would be easy to say that Jesus was simply reprimanding them for their wealth and for ignoring the poor, and I think this part of it, a huge part of it, but not all. I see more. Likewise, it would easy to say that Jesus was the condemning the Pharisees to an afterlife of hell, that they were merely the rich man in the story, and a great chasm would divide them from the riches in the afterlife. I would be easy to read the text that way, but I don’t. I wonder if perhaps, the Pharisees are the brothers in the story, the ones with time left, the ones the rich man wants to warn.

“He said (to Abraham), 'Then, father, I beg you to send (Lazarus) to my father's house- for I have five brothers-that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.'”

I wonder if Jesus likewise, is trying to warn the Pharisees. In his parable, Jesus says,

“Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.'”

I notice how the tense changes here. It is not that the brothers should have listened, it is that they should listen. I think this is the message Jesus is trying to tell the Pharisees - not that their judgement is all over like the rich man and they should have listened, but instead, that like the brothers, they should listen now. That the Pharisees, like those brothers, have Moses and the prophets, who time after time show us how build a relationship with God. Likewise, Jesus is standing there in front of them as a prophet offering them a relationship with the Son of God. What the rich man missed in ignoring Lazarus was the opportunity to build a relationship with God. What the brothers are missing is Moses and the prophets who give an opportunity to build a relationship with God. What the Pharisees are missing is Jesus right in front of them, who is giving them an opportunity to build a relationship with God. I wonder, what are we missing that gives us an opportunity to build a relationship with God. Do we miss the Lazarus’ at our door step? Do we miss Moses and the prophets wisdom at our fingertips? Do we miss Jesus standing right in front of us?

Just like the word, ‘should,’ is in the present tense, so is what we are missing. Yet, the scripture promises that what we are missing is also right in front of us. The scripture promises that God will show up over and over again, from Moses, to Lazarus, to Jesus, to places in our lives today. This story is not a simple warning of what is to come, instead, it is a story of what is already and what will always be, a God who has come to meet us, to build relationship with us, to show us a different way. Friends, a parable is a story within a story, and we are witnesses to a story outside a story, outside a story. What do you see? Where is Lazarus at your door step? Where are Moses and the prophets at your finger tips? Where is Jesus standing right in front of you? Ask yourself these questions, because we are the brothers, given the opportunity to see anew.

The rich man said, 'No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.' Abraham said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"

            In the scripture, Jesus has not yet risen from the dead, and perhaps this is the difference. We, like Abraham, know the rest of the story. We know Jesus has risen from the dead, and that the story is not over, the parable is not all there is. There is a God, who comes back in the wisdom of the prophets, who comes back to stand before us arguing, who comes back to sit at our doorstep and show us what to hunger for. We know there is a risen Christ, we know the story is not over, we know the story will never end. Even in this wild problematic scripture, there is message of grace and hope: that God Eternal comes to us this day. Alleluia, Amen.

September 22nd, 2013 Luke 16: 1 - 13 Sermon

Luke 16: 1 - 13 Sermon

1Then Jesus said to the disciples,

            "There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to the rich man that this manager was squandering the rich man’s property. So the rich man summoned the manager and said to him,

            'What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.'

            Then the manager said to himself,

            'What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.'

            So, summoning his master's debtors one by one, he asked the first,

            'How much do you owe my master?' The debtor answered, 'A hundred jugs of olive oil.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.'

            Then he asked another, 'And how much do you owe?' The debtor replied, 'A hundred containers of wheat.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill and make it eighty.'

            And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.

"Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth."

***

            Growing up there were things I was taught not to talk about. Money was one of them. Now as an adult, I think silence often gives the unspoken a power we don’t intend. So though it is not stewardship season, and though I am not going to ask for money for the church, I am going to talk about money, in the hope that we see the power wealth holds, and perhaps begin to release some of that power, that we might serve God rather than money. While this parable seems of an entirely different time, there are many aspects which are well alive today, aspects of the power of money, and its ability to alter the course of our lives.

            I look at the manager, who was dishonest with his master’s money. I wonder for what luxury was he was hoping, or what debt was he trying to pay off, or perhaps, because the system of wealth was so uneven in Biblical times, he was being a Robin Hood, and stealing money to help the poor, to feed his family. Some commentaries say he was a slave, too old to dig, and too proud to beg. Does slavery make his dishonesty simply justice seeking against a wealthy master? The text doesn’t give us either the manager’s reasons or his excuses, but I think they are worth questioning before we stop to judge. I think it worth questioning if stealing is always wrong, or if there are situations where stealing is righting the wrong of oppression.

            No matter the manager’s excuses or reasons, he is fired from his job, on the pretense of hearsay, and is left without the chance to explain. The master says, 'What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.' The manager doesn’t get a word in edgewise, and I think we know how this works. We have a phrase, ‘money talks,’ and I am afraid it does. I am afraid it fills the pages of our newspapers, and the often the thoughts of our minds. Money has a voice, we can name the richest Americans, and we know about them, but do we know about the poorest? Where might they live, what might they say if given a platform to speak, the cover of Forbes magazine? Would they say, ‘I am enslaved,’ or, ‘I was fired without a chance to explain,’ or would they point out the oppressiveness of our system of wealth. What would the poorest American say? What would the poorest in our town say? The poorest in our church say? Are we asking, or are there things of which we have been taught not to speak? How are our silences speaking instead and giving power in ways we don’t intend. What would it look to speak truth to that power?

            Perhaps speaking truth to power looks something like the dishonest manager’s response. The dishonest manager names his fear, that once accused, and once unemployed, people will not welcome him into their home. It tugs at my heart strings that it is neither lack of food, nor source of shelter that the manager fears. Instead, he fears being unwelcome. He fears being alone. I wonder if the poorest person in our town would say the same. I wonder if when we look at our own desires for wealth, if we fear the same. Do our purchases seek to find a way to fit in? Do we want the home, the wardrobe, the toys, the status that will make us feel included? Or are we spending money on things which will actually bring us closer to other people, like a shared meal, or a great family trip to remember for years to come? Is our spending in line with who we are and who we would like to become? Does it reflect what we care about, a charity which has gotten us through a hard time, a Salt Lick Auction for Parkinson's, a church mission trip where we served God and neighbor, a box of fruit for the backpack program? Are we asking these questions or are we just trying to keep up with the Jones’ because we fear being alone, or are afraid to look at the ways money makes us feel we are already alone.

            Just as the manager knows the accusation of dishonesty and the reality of unemployment will shun him from people’s homes, he knows also that money has the power to welcome him as well. He goes house to house, settling debts by cutting out his own commission, a commission that might have enabled him to sustain himself financially a little longer. Instead he chooses the welcome. He asks the debtors, 'How much do you owe my master?' The debtor answered, 'A hundred jugs of olive oil.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.'  Then he asked another, 'And how much do you owe?' The debtor replied, 'A hundred containers of wheat.' The manager said to him, 'Take your bill and make it eighty.' The master calls his dealing shrewd, the debtors were thankful for a lesser rate, and the manager is seen as a friend, even though he puts himself in a precarious place in order to buy their friendship. The normal order of things is turned on its head.

            The manager takes a top down relationship of debts, debtors, and middle man, and switches the relationship horizontally to friendship. Can you imagine if all our exchanges worked like this? If each time we had a need, or a bill to pay, what we discerned was the true cost: the friendships it would create or hinder, the oppression of the poor stop or continue, the chains of debt which might become tighter or looser, our fear of being alone which might increase or subside? What if these realities were what we questioned with each thing we bought and sold? The coffee we drink, fair trade or unfair? The clothes we buy, to keep us warm, or those from sweatshop poor? The improvements for our home, to keep up with the Jones’ or to allow us a place to sit and have a meal with friends. The charity we support, to have our name printed, or to know we have helped an Open Door kid have someone to talk to and a place to be welcomed? What if with every purchase we asked if our purchase would help change the relationships of this world into the relationships of God’s world?

            I think the manager is asking this question. “Will this exchange change the relationships of this world into the relationships of God’s world?’ God does not live in the hierarchies of silence, wealth and power. God lives in relationships, in friendships, in freedom from oppression, in comforting the lonely, and justice for the poor. Let us, in daily life, give voice to these relationships of God’s world. Let our money talk for the poorest among us, and the ways we ourselves feel alone. Let us speak truth to power, and serve our God rather than money. Let God be our master, and the dishonest manager our guide. 

September 15th, 2013 Luke 15:1-10

Luke 15:1-10 

¹Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. ²And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."

³So he told them this parable: ⁴"Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? ⁵When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. ⁶And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.' ⁷Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

⁸"Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? ⁹When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.' ¹⁰Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents."

***

            Will said all his shirts had holes, and I was sure they did. He always had a penchant for old shirts, those which had long since died, and might not even make good rags. I could imagine how bad his clothes were if he was actually noticing. He’d been living out his car since November, and traveling in it as well for the last couple months. On his way back to Missoula, where he’d been living, Will called to see if he could grab some stuff from the basement in the manse, which sits like a hidden time-warp of his past, like a complex underbelly, below my white and pastel feminine decor. Before I saw him, I smelled him, all the way from the top of the stairs, that smell of stale body odor, like a homeless man in a closed subway car. I had never smelled that smell from someone I know. Walking downstairs into its funk I saw him, his hair outgrown and wild, bleached and dry, his skin weathered and tan, his eyes old and tired. To think, not long ago, he was once so dashing and handsome, and looked far younger than his age. After he finished packing what he could fit in his old Volvo station wagon, with a busted passenger window, and a history of breaking down, I offered him a shower, a snack, some coffee for the road, and hug. It was all I could do, beside ask a particular congregation member who keeps Will in his prayers to keep praying. But I asked for that prayer, because I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost.

            I think Emmylou Harris, believes this too when she writes about a lost daughter, in her song, “My Baby Needs a Shepherd.”  I will sing you her story, but I know with a few words changed, the story of someone who is lost, is one many of us share.

My baby needs a shepherd, she's lost out on the hill

Too late, I tried to call her when the night was cold and still

And I tell myself I'll find her but I know I never will

My baby needs a shepherd, she's lost out on the hill

My baby needs an angel, she never learned to fly

She'll not reach sanctuary just by looking to the sky

I guess I could have carried her but I didn't even try

My baby needs an angel, she never learned to fly

Oh, I ran so far through a broken land

I was following that drummer, beating in a different band

Somewhere on the highway, I let go of her hand

Now she's gone forever like her footprints in the sand

Toora loora loora lo, first the seed and then the rose

Toora loora loora li, my kingdom for a lullaby

My baby needs a pilot, she has no magic wand

To help her part the troubled waters of the Rubicon

But in my soul, I know she'll have to go this one alone

After all that is the only way she's ever known

But there is no lamp in all this dark

That could chase away her shadow from the corners of my heart

I pray she rides a dolphin but she's swimmin' with the shark

Out where none can save her, not even Noah and his ark

Toora loora loora lo, to the cradle comes the crow

Toora loora loora li, my kingdom for a lullaby

My baby needs a mother to love her till the end

Up every rugged mountain and down every road that bends

Sometimes, I hear her cryin' but I guess it's just the wind

My baby needs a mother to love her till the end

            After describing letting go of her daughter’s hand, Emmylou Harris ends her song, with the words, “My baby needs a mother to love her till the end.” Emmylou Harris knows that there is a Good Shepherd, whose promise is to go and search for the lost, until they are found. I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost.

            I look at this scripture, and I notice the tax collectors and the sinners, drawing near to listen to Jesus. After all the others have left, those who remain have nothing to loose, no social standing from which to fall, and I can only imagine how odd it was that someone who was neither a tax collector, nor a sinner, paid much direct attention to those lowly groups. This absurdity is echoed by the Pharisees and the scribes grumbling that,  "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them." It may seem as though Jesus tells these parables for the tax collectors and sinners, but it is to all four groups Jesus is speaking. His message is also for the Pharisees and the scribes. He has a message all need to hear.

            The tax collectors and sinners need to know that they are sheep, and the Good Shepherd is going out in the wilderness to find the lost. That Jesus is standing in a crowd, preaching his controversial message of grace, and walking toward his death, that these few may be saved, that even one of of the lost may be found. That the habitually sinful might turn their lives around, and is so doing bring joy to heaven and the angels of God. He wants them to believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost, and rejoicing when they are found.

            The Pharisees and scribes need to be reminded of the enormity of God’s welcome. That grace is not only for the righteous, but for all. That unlike the Pharisees, those in power, with holy lives, God does not sit content with the saints, but came for the sinners that, “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” Jesus wants them to believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost, and rejoicing when they are found.

            If we take time to notice, we will see Jesus welcoming the lost. This week I visited the Compassion Center at the Nazarene Church, and talked with Cliff Cole who runs one of their ministries. He teaches year long classes for perpetrators of Domestic Violence. He showed me his classroom. On one side of the room was a list of ways perpetrators think, and beside it was a drawing of a frog jumping out of hot water, eyes bugging in anger, red exclamations from its head. On the other side was a list of healthy ways people deal with stress or anger. Beside this list there was a charicture of the same frog, sitting and relaxing in boiling water. The question I was most curious about, was how do these perpetrators get it, or change. What makes the switch? Cliff explained that not all do, but that if they stick with the program and want to change, there will be a moment when they get it. He told a story of a man who looked at the perpetrator chart and said, “I did every single one of those things.” Cliff described knowing that man was changed, knowing that man had been lost, but now was found.  I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost, and when they come home there is rejoicing.

            We the church, in our best moments do the same. In droves, the middle schoolers, have been coming, down the corridor of staircase and hall, to the florescent yellow glow of the multicolored PYG pen. Backpacks are chucked toward the wall, like an afterthought, rearranging the reason for getting up early, from the duty of school, to the bounty of Open Door. The eyes of many youth still waking, and cheeks full of the puff and discolor of sleep. Others are excited as if no one told them you aren’t supposed to be a morning person in your teens. Perhaps the smell of sausage, or the lure of smoothies, have tricked them into our basement. But food alone is not reason enough for this church ministry to be thriving. It thrives because people like Luke, or Shannon, or Zach Ellis, are down there to ask kids how they are doing, to listen to their answer, and to simply play together.  Already this school year, hardships and blessings have been shared from youth to adult, and one has to wonder in those moments have the lost become found, the excluded become included, the hungry truly fed. Open Door serves because we know there are kids who are lost. Likewise, adult volunteers, many of whom are in retirement, or empty nesters, or others of whom come before work, have found a place to give back, a place to belong, a place which gives meaning to their lives. Whether we are adults or children, I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost. I can only imagine if the Pharisees and scribes had an Open Door for the tax collectors and sinners, how Jesus might have rejoiced.

            In our own church, Mark Ferns shared that Andy was able to cook at a friend’s wedding, and even go to batchlor party, and remain sober. There was rejoicing in Lectionary Bible Study when this news was heard. I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost, and when they come home there is rejoicing.

            In many congregations children are not welcomed in worship, or in the life of the church. With the words, ‘shhhh,’ children are lost to a quiet sanctuary, a back nursery, or not in the building at all.  Here at First Pres. it is hard for me to imagine anyone telling a child they cannot bring a balloon in church. Likewise, I am thankful for a congregation willing to let the kids, or the youth, have a Sunday geared toward them. Last week when Alex shouted after the Rembold’s special music, “That was the best song ever,” his praise was welcomed with rejoicing. In this place, the children of God are found, whether they be young or young at heart, or even just old plain old curmudgeonly. In this place, I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost, and when they are found there is rejoicing.

            I believe that there is a Good Shepherd continually searching for the lost, and inviting us to come and rejoice when they are found. I believe that there is a Good Shepherd who will never stop searching for Will, and I believe that part of that Shepherd exists in the prayers of that congregation member. I believe Andy Ferns right now is a testament to the Good Shepherd. I believe that there is a Good Shepherd for the lost girl in the Emmylou Harris song. I believe that there is a Good Shepherd in Cliff Cole of the Compassion Center and I believe that there are Good Shepherds of all ages in our basement for Open Door in the mornings. I believe there is a Good Shepherd who sits each Sunday in this Sanctuary and reminds us to welcome these children in all their exuberance, and to rejoice with them in in song and celebration. I believe there is a good shepherd who is continually searching for the lost, and I know when they are found that the angels of God and heaven itself is rejoicing. Alleluia, Amen. 

Sept. 8th, 2013 Luke 14:25-33

LUKE 14:25-33

²⁵Now large crowds were traveling with him; and he turned and said to them,

²⁶"Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. ²⁷Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.

²⁸For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? ²⁹Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, ³⁰saying,

'This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.'

³¹Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? ³²If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace.

 ³³So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.

***

I think this type of message is the reason the crowds started to dwindle as Jesus approached Jerusalem. He began with a multitude of followers watching miracles, great debates, and speeches, and ended with a small number of very loyal disciples Jesus’ in an upper room. While Jesus had begun as a superstar of his time, his message was often unwelcome. I imagine this message would likewise be as unwelcome today.

Can you imagine a politician in his campaign speech telling his supporters that that they must hate their father, their mother, and their children, and all loyalty must go their campaign. Can you imagine a politician telling her constituents that they must give up all their possessions, and follow her on the campaign trail? Both these images go so much against the, ‘family values,’ and focus on the American Dream of prosperity. This is what Jesus was asking and the message would have been just as unwelcome in Biblical times. You can see why the followers stopped following. Jesus was asking a very hard thing, and I wonder, what we would be unwilling to give up, to follow Jesus.

Could you give up your family? Could you give your home, or your hometown? Could you give up your political party ties, or your liberal or conservative stance? Could you give up your occupation and livelihood? Could you give up your loyalty to your country? Could you give up the value you place on your military service? Could you give up your education and degrees? Could you give up your favorite photograph, or a memento from a loved one? Could you give up technology? Could you give up the outdoors, or the indoors? Could you give up everything you knew about the world, and turn it upside down to follow a radical man?

I doubt I could. I love my sister, and my parents, and my friends, and I feel like those relationships are beneficial to us and to the world. Though I have traveled and lived different places, I have never been without a home to come back to. I love nesting, and decorating, and making a place beautiful. I find, when away, I become scattered and miss the drawer where I always put my keys, and the ability to pick what I want to wear that day. And while I don’t really claim one political party or another, I would have a hard time going back to the social beliefs of the deep south. It would be unimaginable for me to give up my call to the church. It is who I am. Likewise, to give up any livelihood is a scary prospect. To rely on others entirely, would be humbling, and perhaps shaming. I love my country, its history, and its vastness. If I were to be in a fire, the thing I would grab is my national park passport book, which holds stamps from  coast to coast and the oddest of place in between. If I had to follow Jesus I might even try to direct him toward Olympic National Park, or some of the remote ones in Alaska, or even Bryce Canyon because I have not yet been to them, and gotten my book stamped. To give up my degrees would likewise be unnerving. When I meet someone who is similarly educated I do feel more comfortable, as if we speak a similar language. I could most likely give up technology, but I am sure the slowness of snail mail and large newspaper pages would frustrate me. I truly can not imagine giving up the outdoors. It is how I find God so often, and feel perhaps the most myself. I doubt I could give up everything I know about the world, turn it upside down and follow Jesus. I doubt I would be around the table when he came to Jerusalem, but part of me wants to.

I have friends who have traveled the world, and the country, with nothing to their name but backpack, or a car. I envy them. There is a freedom is giving up all you know, and all you have, and setting out into the unknown. There is a freedom in being disconnected from your ties and your resources. There is a freedom in having to rely on the kindness of strangers to help you find you way, and I would suppose there is a humility and trust when have to ask for your basic needs. There is freedom when you feel so centered that you are following a purpose. I officiated a wedding yesterday, and it felt like the couple and everyone around them was there for this one moment, this one faith in something greater than any individual belief or purpose. I wonder if following Jesus would feel like that. Like three hundred people walking toward love. I wish it was easy as a wedding day, as everything you were created to be, and everyone who was there along the way was supporting this one beautiful thing, but I think Jesus is warning us that it is more like divorcing yourself from all that you have known, and walking blindly into all that you will become. I think Jesus is asking a hard thing, and perhaps an impossible thing, but something we must try, and I see this in our church.

Recently a group of the Worship Committee, Personnel and part of the Choir, decided not to hire another choir director. Instead the group sought to encourage more participation from the congregation, and hoped that the former choir would regularly be part of that participation. It was not an easy decision, in fact for those choir members, and some of the congregation, it felt like their world had been turned upside down. There was a meeting to discuss and sign up for leading the anthem slot, and 5 former choir members and even a congregant came struggling to understand why their ministry must change, they came with questions, they came with hurt, but what I was most impressed with, was that they came. That the church was more important to them then their ties to praising God in song, then even their experience of fellowship as a choir. They did not simply stop following. They did not write their pastor a letter and say they were leaving the church. They did not make threats with their tithes or time. They asked questions, they wanted to understand the change, and perhaps understand how to move forward. How to follow God’s ever changing call to the church. Last Thursday night the Roger’s Hall could have been the Upper Room. Those were the disciples, doing what disciples do best, asking questions, and seeking to follow Christ.

We have many disciples in our midst, we have disciples who sought God and envisioned Open Door and Backpack, and disciples took risks to see those programs through. We have disciples who came up with ways they serve God and ways they want to serve God on red, orange, and yellow bunting hung all around the sanctuary. They ask questions, and took risks and sought to see what changes God might be bringing.  We have disciples who dreamed new ideas for space in our church during the progressive dinner, and disciples who asked questions about what that change would mean. In the midst of being disciples there are also times when we each doubt we can follow Christ. Christ is warning us that it will not be easy. When everything we know will be turned upside down. My pastor friend Marci says when things start getting shaken up you know your following the call. I wish it were otherwise. I wish it could all just be the same always, that it would be easy, but freedom doesn’t lie in easy. It lies in the letting go, and the following anew.