Luke 1:26-38, December 20, 2020, Sermon

“When God Comes Calling” 

Pastor Randy Butler

How does God interact with human beings? In what ways do our lives and God’s divine life intersect? There are as many answers to such questions as there are examples from the Bible. God calls upon Noah to build an ark, asks Abraham to leave his home, presses Moses into service against his will, God and Moses arguing all the way. God leads the people of Israel by fire and cloud, God anoints David, sets afire the minds and hearts of the prophets to speak God’s will to people and power, and yet speaks in the silence to Elijah. God shows up in dreams to others. God encounters Saul on the road to Damascus, knocks him off his feet. And God sometimes just comes calling.

That’s what happens with a young woman from Nazareth in Galilee named Mary. Her life is good, she is engaged to be married to Joseph. Everybody is looking forward to the big wedding day. And then God comes calling, completely shaking up her plans and dreams for her future with Joseph. So sometimes when God calls the result is totally disruptive. We would like to think that when God enters our lives that we would feel love and peace, and sometimes we do but often it is just the opposite. We are totally caught off guard and our comfortable lives are disrupted, interrupted by God. Father William McNamara says “God is not necessarily nice. God is not a buddy, or an uncle or a mascot. God is an earthquake.” Well, that’s what Mary discovers. She is being hit with an earthquake, what is really an unwanted pregnancy.

So what we learn about the way God interacts with us is that God takes initiative with us, makes contact, initiates contact. God sends an angel to Mary, and what she hears is confusing, not really comforting. “Greetings favored one!” says the angel, “The Lord is with you.” And Mary’s first response is confusion. The text says she is perplexed, and indicates that she is fearful. That is often the response we have when God comes calling – fear. And that is true for Mary. She is afraid, and perplexed.

Now at this point I might just say, and maybe you too, might just say, “OK, I’m outta here. This is too strange. And too demanding.” But Mary doesn’t do that. She hangs in there with this strange visitor. Sometimes in the big life changing events of our lives we just look for the door, the nearest escape. But Mary ponders the meaning of these things. She ponders what sort of divine greeting and interruption this is.

What does happen when our lives are interrupted? How do we respond when we lose a loved one – a spouse, a child, or a parent? How do we handle the earthquake of divorce or the loss of a job? These are among the major disruptive events of our lives. We may want to run, but Mary encourages us to stay and ponder, and learn and grow from these major events. When our family was disrupted by mental illness in a family member I wanted to run. But I am learning very slowly to ponder, and pray and learn how God is in this, how the love and grace of God comes in the disruption.

Mary doesn’t reject the angel Gabriel, or tell him to leave. But when the angel tells the whole story and her role in it, she does have a few questions. And that is fair enough. When God comes calling questions are allowed, even doubts are OK. “How can this be,” she wonders, “Since I am a virgin.” Some of us are raised to believe that we should never question God, or have doubts. Any reading of the Psalms of the Old Testament will put that notion to rest. “How long O Lord, will you forget me forever?” - Psalm 13. “My God, My God why have you forsaken me?” - Psalm 22. “Rouse yourself, Why do you sleep O Lord, Awake do not cast us off forever!” – Psalm 44. And that’s just a few examples. Doubts and questions drive us deeper into engagement with God. In the book of Genesis, the patriarch Jacob doesn’t settle for polite churchy conversation but wrestles with God on the bank of the Jabbok River, Jacob and God getting muddy and bloody. That’s how God and Jacob interact. And Jacob emerges with blessing and promise.

So Mary’s question is reasonable enough, and the angel offers a very compassionate and helpful answer. He does three things. First he offers some explanation. He says, “This will happen by the Holy Spirit, who will embrace and overshadow you, and the child coming from this union will be holy. He will be the son of God.” So there is discussion about this. Mary is not expected to just accept this without some explanation. I will say it again, when God comes calling questions are allowed. Second, the angel refers Mary to Elizabeth. It’s like the angel is saying, “I know this is a lot to take in. Go talk to Elizabeth. Something similar is going on with her. She too is pregnant by unusual circumstances. She is now in her sixth month and you need to talk with her.”

I really like this. There are people in our lives who are a little further down the road in the “when God comes calling” journey. They have experience to share, wisdom to pass on. They can share what they did when this happened to them. God does not leave us alone in the big events of life. God provides friends in the faith, fellow travelers, spiritual directors, counselors. Some of us have favorite aunts or uncles. I have been grateful for my sister who connects with my youngest daughter in a really helpful way. So Mary has Elizabeth and Elizabeth has Mary too. They have each other.

And third, the angel offers a final assurance: “I know this is a big deal, but remember Mary, nothing will be impossible with God.” We need to hear that sometimes. After all the questions and the doubts and conversations we just need to hear that God has got this. Whatever is happening in our world, whatever disease plagues us, whatever political upheaval we endure, it may not seem like it, but nothing is impossible with God.”

We are not left hanging when God comes calling. We are offered explanation, directed toward others who we can talk with, and we are assured that God can do this.

And finally then there comes acceptance. Agreement, acquiescence, surrender to God who comes calling. The agreement and conformity of our will with the divine will. And of course this is one of Mary’s finest moments. And it can be our finest moment as well, the moment of true freedom – when we stop resisting God’s will as it comes in the form of disruption or pain and suffering and sorrow, and we move toward acceptance. When we who are so willful finally become willing to accept God’s mysterious ways. “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Now we are not so sure we like words like surrender and acquiescence. But it is a critical moment in the life of faith, to surrender to the higher power of God. And perhaps it helps to know that this surrender to God is not resignation. Acceptance is not a giving up, or giving in. It is a giving to God and God’s purposes, an offering of ourselves to God for something greater. In our Old Testament text, God told David to cease his own building project for the sake of God’s bigger building project: “Moreover the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house. Your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me, your throne shall be established forever.” And God called upon Mary for a big task and disruptive task, and when she finally accepted she surrendered to the grand purposes of God for the redemption of the world – she would bear the Son of God, in the line of David, who would reign forever – of his kingdom there would indeed be no end.

God intervenes, comes calling in our lives for some greater purpose. Greater than we could ever imagine, if we will accept it. C.S. Lewis has a wonderful little parable in his book Mere Christianity. He says, “Imagine yourself a house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.

But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but he is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself.”

The disruption of God’s call upon our lives is sometimes painful, like our spiritual house being knocked about and we wonder what on earth is God up to? God is indeed up to something - something wonderful for the world and for you and me.

John 1:6-8, 19-28, December 13, 2020, Sermon

“Who Is He? Who Are We?” 

Pastor Randy Butler 

When I was a high school freshman I tried out for the basketball team. I practiced, worked out, and when the week came to try out, the coach had us shooting baskets to see if we could hit the broadside of a barn, playing short games to see our moves, and running wind sprints up and down the court to see what kind of shape we were in. All the time he was whittling away at the group who had tried out. I made it through the first day, but I started having a bad feeling by the second and third days, and sure enough on the last day of tryouts my name wasn’t on the list posted outside the gym, of those who had made the team. I realized pretty soon in my high school career that I wasn’t going to be a star athlete.

In my junior year I took a class in public speaking. It was an elective, and I had to fill a spot on my schedule so public speaking it was. I was by nature in those days sort of shy and reserved but when I stood up in front of the class to speak I felt pretty comfortable. I was mostly relaxed and I discovered that if I’d thought about what I was going to say and wrote it down, I was pretty good at delivering the message from up front. I could do it. Like many people in those high school years, I was beginning to discover what were my strengths and weaknesses, my abilities and my “non-abilities.” I was beginning to discover who I was and who I was not.

John Calvin, one of our important Presbyterian ancestors in the faith once wrote that, “Our wisdom, in so far as it ought to be deemed true and solid Wisdom, consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.” John the Baptist was considering this sort of wisdom as he grappled with his role, who and what he was; who and what he was not, in the unfolding of a new revelation of God in first century Palestine. The gospel of John, perhaps reflecting some misunderstandings, even tension or rivalries in the first century church wants to make very clear what the Baptist’s role was. He says that the life that had come into being through the Word of God in Jesus was the light of all people, and that no darkness could extinguish that light. John then, was sent by God to testify to the light. The gospel says that he himself was not the light but repeating, that he came to testify to the light.

OK, clear enough. But something in me wants to come to John’s aid here. I want to say, “But John, you have the light of God within you,” as do we all. Jesus says, “You/we are the light of the world.” “Let your light shine before others,” he says. In fact, a little further on in the gospel Jesus says about John, “He was a burning and shining lamp, and you were willing to rejoice for a while in his light.” The letter to the Ephesians says, “In the Lord, you are light.” For good reason we focus the light on Jesus. But in doing that we sometimes forget that we too are bearers of his light. We are lit up and more powerful than we sometimes think. So we strive for a balance as we consider who we are as humans beings created in the image of God, with God’s very breath in us. We remember indeed that we who are the light of the world are also the salt of the earth. But don’t forget that by the presence of God’s Spirit within us there is enough light to make us shine like the sun.

John then has enough light shining about him that the religious authorities want to come check him out. The truth squad, as Dale Bruner puts, shows up anytime there is someone making religious claims that threaten their own position. Here John is baptizing people in the Jordan not far from Jerusalem. Where does he get this authority? Who does he think he is? The truth squad intends to find out. “Who are you?” they ask plainly. And John says “Well I am not the Messiah. I can tell you that much.” John who was not the light but was sent to testify to the light, knows pretty well who he is not. He is not the Messiah, not Elijah, not a prophet.

It is always helpful to recognize who or what we are not, as well as who or what we are. Dale Bruner says, “Knowing who we are not, ironically, helps us know who we are.” And John knows he is not the Messiah. We say, “Well that is easy enough for me, I know I am not a Messiah. Sounds pretty straightforward.” Except we still tend to act like we are messiahs or saviors of one kind or another in our daily life. Some of us think we can save our community, some think that we can save our business or our church. Lots of us think we can save our families, that we can save a loved one who is sick or addicted or simply going down the wrong path. We think it is up to us to set the person straight, to save her or him. Until we finally realize that we cannot do it on our own; that we need to put off our Superman cape, that we are not saviors and messiahs.

Often it takes failure or suffering or pain to get there. Like the first few of Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous tell us, “until we admit that we are powerless and our lives have become unmanageable; that we come to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity and we turn our will and our lives over to the care of God.” If you struggle with this kind of messiah complex then maybe this text is for you. This is your verse. John 1:20 – “I am not the Messiah.” Some of us need to commit that verse to memory.

So John knows who he is not. But who then is he? Pressed by the religious authorities he says, “OK I will tell you who I am: I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.” He is not the Messiah but he is a voice preparing the way for the Messiah, making the way straight for the Messiah. Making the way straight means to clear away the clutter and curves so that God has a clear shot at our hearts. That means that we are straight with God, honest with God about our lives – our failures, our successes, who we are and who we are not, allowing God to have a clear and straight way into our lives. It also means that as we are voices in the wilderness of our own communities and culture, that we tell it straight, tell the story of Jesus with honesty and humility.

I am more convinced than ever that people need God, are searching for God, much of the time without even knowing it. I believe that St. Augustine’s words from the fifth century apply more than ever. “You have made us for yourself and our heart is restless until it rests in you.” The restlessness of our time is evident. So I try to point to Jesus to answer the questions. Here is what I try to say when someone asks about knowing God through Jesus: “I don’t have all the answers to what you are asking. But over the centuries many good and thoughtful and kind and generous people have believed and followed Jesus. I think they are on to something. God is indeed a great mystery. And the world’s religions certainly have a great deal to teach us. I have found Jesus in the New Testament to be a good guide in these things. You really can’t go wrong with him. I can’t unlock the mysteries of the universe, but I can point to the one who I believe has the key.

There is a famous painting of John the Baptist by German Renaissance painter Matthias Grunewald. It shows John in a ragged robe, holding the scriptures, a lamb at his feet. Words in the background read, “He must increase and I must decrease,” John’s very words from the gospel of John. But the most moving thing about the painting is John’s right arm raised, cocked like this, his hand and one very thin long finger pointing looking somewhere off the canvas to Jesus.

Like John the Baptist our role is not to save the world but to point to the one who can and does. Understanding who we are and who Jesus is we prepare the way for God to enter our lives and the lives of our loved ones, friends, coworkers and our world. Amen.

Mark 1:1-8, December 6, 2020, Sermon

“Preparing For Christmas” 

Pastor Randy Butler

While I was at home last week, on the day after Thanksgiving we put up the Christmas tree. My part is get the tree out, an artificial tree, and then to put on the tree lights, make sure they work and place them so that they cover the tree consistently. Then Anne and our daughters can put on the ornaments. I don’t know that we are going to get around to putting lights on the house this year. But that is okay, we are getting ready for Christmas. And already it feels good to have the tree up. It warmed our hearts in this difficult year to see the tree lit up like that in the corner of the family room.

We are all preparing for Christmas, getting our hearts ready for the birth of Christ in our world, in our homes and our hearts. And that is exactly what John the Baptist is doing in our text this morning. His job is to prepare us for the coming of Christ. The Gospel of Mark says, quoting from the prophets, “See I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”

Now after a year like this one I want to stop right here and simply marvel with you at this divine voice speaking not just in the past, but to us and our situation, in the midst of this wilderness of a year. And it has indeed been a kind of wilderness experience, a desert experience, stuck in our homes, limited by who we can see, where we can go; worried about contracting COVID, or spreading it among our loved ones and friends. It has been a sparse, arid wilderness kind of a year, and it continues. But Mark is introducing us to the good news about Jesus Christ – that’s what he calls it, and that good news starts with a voice crying in the wilderness of first century Judea, just like that voice spoke in precious centuries in the time of Isaiah, and the same voice of hope crying in our wilderness today.

God is not silent, God is still speaking. “God is still speaking,” that’s the motto of the United Church of Christ in recent years. It’s a great reminder – that God is not finished speaking, that God continues to speak in our time with fresh meaning and relevance, addressing not just the past, but our issues, our lives, our world, right here in 2020 on the verge of 2021 in the middle of a pandemic. “The mouth of the Lord has spoken,” says Isaiah. To the exiles of Israel in Babylon Isaiah says, “Here is your God, here God comes.” And to us - God is still alive, active and speaking to us. So don’t give up friends. There is a cry of hope in our wilderness: get ready for the Lord.

So we read that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness speaking, making proclamations to get us ready for Christ. And first Mark says that he was proclaiming a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins. Repentance is simply the act of changing our minds, altering our understanding of things. I say simply that but it isn’t really simple at all. We don’t really like to change our minds. But one of the first things that happens for us to prepare for Christ is that we change – our minds and our actions, and that we acknowledge our failures, our regrets, our mistakes, our sins. This clears the way and gets us ready. That is what Isaiah and John are doing. “…make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The uneven ground shall become level and the rough places a plain.” God is bringing the heavy earth moving equipment to clear the way and level the ground for the coming of Christ. And that is something like what needs to happen in our hearts and lives. Repentance and forgiveness remove the stones of sin, the mountains of sadness and grief, the obstacles of anger and resentment that block the way and prevent Christ from reaching our lives and hearts.

Here is another way of thinking about it. Do you know the winter sport of Curling? I find it kind of fascinating, you often see it during the Winter Olympics. In Curling one person slowly launches a large polished granite stone down the ice towards a target, about thirty feet away. Teammates walk along side of the stone with modified brooms sweeping the way clear of any obstruction or unnecessary ice. And sometimes they sweep really quickly as a way to reduce friction so the stone reaches the target. The preparation of Christmas, the preparation that John is talking about has to do with sweeping the way clear and reducing the friction between our lives and God’s life, paving the way for God to strike the target of our hearts with love and grace.

Repentance for forgiveness is the way the journey begins and we practice repentance and forgiveness along the journey as well. Because it is a journey, a way, a path. Three times in our text we are reminded of this: “…my messenger who will prepare your way.” The voice crying out, prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. The Christ life is a path, a way. We are on the way, we are not stuck. Consider this for a minute. When the Israelites were in Egypt they were stuck in bondage. But when they set out into the wilderness they were moving. They were indeed in the wilderness. It was not easy. They complained a lot and it was long trip. But they were moving. They weren’t captive anymore. They had not yet reached their destination but they were moving that direction. They were on the go, God was moving in them and with them.

Many centuries later when the people of Judah found themselves in Babylonian exile they were stuck again. Exile is a kind of static situation. But when Isaiah invited them into the wilderness journey they began to move. They had to travel across wilderness but they were moving, they hadn’t arrived yet at their destination in Jerusalem but they were heading that direction. They were walking through the valley of the shadow of death, this wilderness, but they were walking. Someone once said the best thing to do in the valley of shadow of death is keep walking.

And that is what we do. This pandemic will pass, this interim time in our church will pass, this difficult time in our nation will pass. We will simply stay on the path, stay the course and just keep going on the journey of faith. It is a kind of wilderness but we will make it through to the other side. Life with Christ is always a path, a way and a journey, always in motion, always changing because we are walking through the wilderness. We have left captivity and we have not yet reached our destination, but we are on the way. Progress, not perfection, say those in twelve-step programs. We are on the way, a work in progress.

John the Baptist proclaims a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins, and he proclaims someone beyond himself: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I’m not even fit to tie his shoes. I am baptizing you with water but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit. So though we are on a journey we have a very clear goal and direction. We are not left wandering in the wilderness. John is pointing to Jesus as the focus and goal of our journey. We are traveling toward Jesus. He is the focus of Mark’s good news. A fifth century Christian wrote, “To see Thee is the end and the beginning, Thou carriest us, and Thou dost go before, Thou art the journey, and the journey’s end.”

As we move through Advent we are traveling towards Jesus. The shepherds in the Christmas story are traveling toward Jesus in Bethlehem. The magi are traveling toward Jesus in Bethlehem. He is their goal, our goal, our focus. We gather around him at our center when we worship, when we hold meetings, when we do anything as the church. Where two or three of us is gathered there he is in our midst. He is indeed the journey and the journey’s end. Let’s keep walking together.

Mark 13:24-37, November 29th, 2020, Sermon

“In the Depth of the Darkness a Candle Glows” 

Mark Ferns 

Prayer: May the mediation of my heart and the words of my voice be acceptable to You O Lord this day.

We gather this morning to observe the First Sunday in Advent by lighting a candle. The first candle is sometimes called the Candle of Hope. It is also called the ‘Prophecy Candle”.

The Candle of Hope is an appropriate name for that first light of the Advent season. It is not by accident that we begin the Advent season in the winter months as the hours of darkness grow. This winter is the season that tries our souls. Today we come to gather together in what seems to be an ever deepening dreary gloom. Sunlight diminishes while the darkness lengthens. Our political system is wracked by uncertainties. A fearful illness has taken control of our society, wreaking economic chaos and challenging our medical community, threatening to divide us even further, leading us to huddle in isolated, small groups.

In the darkness this morning a single candle is lit. The same candle has been lit in congregations around the world, joining a multitude of believers together. Here in this sanctuary today turn your eyes to the light of the candle of Hope. Let us look with clear eyes, see the candle as something New. Clear away the clouded mists of anxiety and see this candle as if for the very first time, the very first light that burns in defiance of the darkness.

In the Mark passage, Jesus makes a prophecy, tells of what is to come. “But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.”

Clearly we must acknowledge that the fears and darkness are real. The world is an uncertain place. As a nation we have been stripped of our fantasies. Much to our dismay we find ourselves not in control of anything. The belief that we select our leaders has been shattered. Freedom from illnesses is but a mirage. Unending economic prosperity revealed as simply an illusion. We despair and are fearful of what is to come. We are forced to acknowledge that, as limited humans we by ourselves cannot create an earthly heaven.

What can we do then? Hear the next part of the Mark passage. “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. ”

Here Jesus speaks to us as a prophet, telling of things yet to come. This candle of Hope is also the prophecy candle. The Son of Man will return. Look not to the past but to the future.

For me, looking to the future and letting go of the past is much easier said than done. I have grown way too accustomed to a sense of entitlement. I am shocked by the reality of the growing darkness. I seek to find scapegoats. Point fingers and cry “It’s your fault! We don’t deserve this!” I deserve better.

Then I am again forced to acknowledge that I am not in charge. The words are: Thy Will not my will. I must look again to the Light of the candle of Hope. Imagine living in this world of today without that Light. In the dimness of 2020’s darkness I see the Light as if for the very first time. In the face of a growing darkness here today we dare to light the candle of Hope.

That candle of Hope is also the candle of prophecy. Today’s passage in Mark ends with Jesus’s words: “Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake.”

So what do we do as we are waiting? Huddle in a corner and drown ourselves in self-pity? By all means, No! We are to share the light of the candle of Hope. Pull it out from under the basket and take the light out into the world. Reach out to those in fear and share the Good News. Let all know that through Jesus hope has come into the world.

Let the act of lighting the candle bring forth a light within our hearts. We can then carry the light of hope within us as we go back into the darkening world. How is the light manifested within us? Most simply it shows through in the two greatest commandments. “Love thy God with all your heart and with all your soul and all your mind and you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

I must confess that for me, in this season of darkness that is a lot easier said than done. The words of Isaiah really speak to me: “There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.” That is where I find myself today, fearful of the dark, in danger of feeling abandoned.

It is then that I turn and look to the light of prophecy. Time to accept the promise that Jesus freely give us. The Hope of the World is with me. He will come again. The world will be healed.

Today is the time to be reassured. Know that in lighting this candle, this day the Kingdom of God is come near. Remember Jesus’ word at the end of the gospel of Matthew. “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded. I am with you always, until the end of the age.”

Matthew 25:31-46, November 22, 2020, Sermon

“The Great Divide” 

Pastor Randy Butler 

As a pastor in Seattle I often met people who were in need, sometimes desperate need. Our church was up the hill from a major street through the city – Aurora Avenue, which was and still is old Hwy 99. So all kinds of people would walk up the hill to our church looking for help. When I first arrived in 1998 a guy came to the church looking for a bus ticket or a ride to Edmonds. I was new and full of idealism and I gladly gave him a ride. It was October, the weather was starting to cool and I even gave him my fleece. It was a nice forest green fleece pullover, I remember it well. As time went on others came and went, and I found that my compassion cooled somewhat in view of the harsh realities of urban life. 

There was a man who once threatened me as we talked one afternoon in the fellowship hall. I called the police, but he left. I was approached by another very disturbed man who got right up in my face, swore at me and then spit on me. So after a while my response to those in need depended often on my own state of mind at the time, and the person, and the resources we had at the church. One man would come every few months or so, nicely dressed, very intelligent, always wanted to talk theology, but that simply hid his need for food and shelter. We helped when we could but sometimes we couldn’t. So in the terms suggested by Jesus’ parable, I could be a sheep one day and a goat the next.

I have to tell you, I don’t think I have ever preached on this parable. I find it challenging, disturbing, even kind of haunting, and so I suppose I have avoided it. But it comes as the culmination of Jesus’ teaching in the gospel of Matthew, his last teaching, just before the account of the passion so it is the final and conclusive exhortation of Jesus before his crucifixion. And that means that it is a really important parable and lesson. Matthew intends it to be so, by his placement of it. And clearly Jesus meant it so too.

And so as I dove into it in detail really for the first time, I was blessed and I emerge from my study this week more trusting of this parable than I once was. And I discovered that it is full of surprises. The parable pictures Jesus on the throne before the cosmic multitudes at the end of the age, separating the human family into two groups – one group who respond with compassion to those in desperate need, and another group of those who do not, the sheep to the right and the goats to the left. But here is the surprise in this great separation: there is no talk about what we believe as the dividing criteria, there is no confession of sin, no repentance, no sinners’ prayer, no prayer at all really, no statement of faith, no profession of faith in Jesus. And that doesn’t sound like what we usually hear from our churches, where we have made doctrine and belief the primary dividing line between the righteous and the unrighteous.

There are several places where you can stand on the North American Continental Divide. I had the opportunity when I was I backpacking in Banff National Park in Alberta many years ago. And it was really something to stand on the very spot and look to one side where everything flows into the Pacific Ocean and then look to the other side where everything flows to the Atlantic Ocean. We call it the Continental Divide or the Great Divide.

What this parable of Jesus is teaching us is that there is one great divide among all people, for all time. But it doesn’t have to do with our religion, our political affiliation, who we voted for in the 2020 presidential election, whether you are Republican or Democrat. The great divide has nothing to do with whether you wear a mask or not. It isn’t a division between men and women, black or white. The only thing that ultimately distinguishes us one from another is our response to those in desperate need. The great divide is drawn right through our hearts really, and we will fall to one side or the other based our response to those in need.

That is the first surprise. The second surprise is this: When we serve others in need we are serving Jesus himself. “When was it Lord that we saw you hungry and gave you food, thirsty and gave you a drink? When was it that we clothed, welcomed and visited you?” Jesus’ answer, “Just as you did it to the least of my sisters and brothers, you did it to me.” Now there is plenty in the New Testament about belief in Jesus, and the importance of faith in Jesus. The most famous verse in the New Testament, John 3:16, says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have eternal life.” The end of John’s gospel says that, “these things were written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

But perhaps right here in our parable is where faith in Jesus and the love of others meets. When we love others we love Jesus. When we serve others we serve Jesus. In some of our traditional language about faith we speak of receiving Christ; of accepting Christ into our hearts. Matthew is saying that we receive Christ when we receive the stranger, the prisoner, the hungry. He is saying that we accept Christ when we accept the thirsty, the sick and the poor. In receiving them we are receiving Christ. In accepting them into our hearts we accept Christ into our hearts. We see and meet Christ when we see and meet those in need.

Now it is easy to take a text like this and use it as a kind of scorecard, a checklist. “Let’s see, I gave that guy in front of the store a granola bar awhile back. That makes me one of the sheep, right? I wasn’t very welcoming of that woman who knocked on my door though – I guess I’m sort of a goat. But I did recently visit my sick niece – surely that qualifies me for the sheep? I’ve never really visited anyone in prison – that makes me a goat.” Then we tally it all up to determine whether we are to inherit the kingdom prepared for us since the foundation of the world with the rest of the sheep, or whether we are destined for the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels along with the goats.

That of course is not what this parable intends. It intends rather to invite us to examine our general disposition, to ask where it is we live in relation to the great divide. Is our heart generally open to those who are in need or not? Do we respond to those in need or close our door in their face?

Part of the grace of the parable is that the actions that Jesus lists are not out of reach for us. We are not expected to heal the sick, just visit the sick. We don’t need to eradicate world hunger – just give someone a sandwich. We don’t have to begin an international relief effort, we simply have to give someone a shirt or a pair of shoes. We do some of these things already. We help at Backpacks or the Open Door. We take our clothes to the Good Will or other charity. We donate food to the food bank. These things are all doable, if we are generally disposed in our hearts to respond and act.

I would point out that the parable is very specific and personal. I was sick, says Jesus, and you visited, I was hungry and you gave me something. So what Jesus is talking about takes concrete individual action. It’s not limited to a general frame of mind. It invites us to encounter other human beings, to be face to face with another human being in need, in whose face we see the very face of Christ.

Still don’t be frightened by this parable, like I have been. Take it seriously, O yes, take it seriously. That is what Jesus wants, what Mathew wants. It is a wake-up call parable, but it need not keep us awake at night, tossing and turning over whether we belong with the sheep or the goats. Psalm 100 says, “Know that the Lord is God, It is he that made us and we are his, we are the sheep of his pasture.” In the gospel of John Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd, the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” We can trust in God’s shepherd-like love given to us in Jesus Christ. It is in the security of being loved that we in turn can love. It is the assurance of having received that we can then give ourselves to others, and take seriously the exhortation of the good shepherd to tend to the needs of others in our church, our community and our world.

Matthew 25:14-30, November 15, 2020, Sermon

"Risky Faith"

Pastor Randy Butler 

Prayer for Illumination:
Come, Holy Spirit, open our minds and hearts this day, that we may be illumined by your living Word and walk together as children of light.

I love this parable. We call this the parable of the talents, and our English word talent comes from this passage in Matthew. Many English words and phrases have their origin in the Bible. Our word scapegoat, for example, comes directly from a passage in the Old Testament book of Leviticus. The term golden calf, referring to those various idols of our lives, comes from a famous passage in Exodus. When we say Alpha and Omega for the beginning and end we use a phrase from the book of Revelation. Apocalypse, a word used a lot this year, comes from the same book.

And the word talent comes from this parable. The Greek word talenton in Jesus’ parable here in Matthew, is an amount of money, a very large sum. But as the word made its way into Latin it took on additional meanings related more generally to wealth, or weight, the weight of a large sum. Finally as it is found in Old and Middle English it has the sense of a gift, then skill. And so the word talent has come to mean in our language a skill or God given gift, a certain aptitude.

So the word has a wide range of meanings, and what Jesus in Matthew meant literally as money, we could also interpret as time, the gift of time, any opportunity – will we squander or use an opportunity? And we can talk about gifts and skills or aptitudes. And so, this is a parable about the exercise and the stewardship of our talents.

In this section of the Gospel, Jesus is speaking about the urgency of the times, the need to stay awake to his presence and appearance in our lives, the need to be prepared, like the bridesmaids in last week’s parable, and now the need to make the most of the talents, the opportunities, the time, the money that we have been given. As Bible scholar Dale Bruner says, a talent is “whatever the Lord gives now and may ask about later.”

So the parable - a man who owned much was preparing to go on a trip. And Matthew says that he entrusted his property to his servants in his absence. To one he gives five talents, to another two talents and to the third one talent, each according to their ability. And notice the trust here. The master gives no instruction about the talents, there are no conditions, there are no strings attached. He treats his servants like adults, like the mature human beings they are. And they are given great freedom in the management of the assets they have been given.

God gives us great gifts, with no conditions attached. The letter to the Ephesians says that God has lavished grace and love upon us, that God has freely bestowed glorious grace upon us and within us. We have been given much. And we are free to exercise our gifts and our talents in the way that we think is best, in view of the master’s generosity and our hope to earn the master’s approval upon his return. But inside that we have a lot of freedom. Some have money. God entrusts us with this and there is freedom in your use of it. Some have talents like music or art or building, or aptitudes in math or science. There is great freedom in the exercise of these talents, great creativity and opportunity to use these talents. The only thing we remember is that a talent is whatever the Lord gives now and may ask about later.

The three servants, then, are given these talents and the master goes away. The one with five talents sets off at once – with great enthusiasm and dreams, he trades with the talents, uses them, leverages his talents, and makes five more, the Greek word can mean that he earns or even wins five more. He moves out, he works and he produces. He takes initiative. Perhaps nowhere else do we see Jesus’ affirmation of the profit motive as we do here, investment and return on investment. Entrepreneurs should love this parable.

The servant with two talents does the same thing as the first, doubling his money, a 100% return on his investment. Notice how active these first two servants are – the use of our talents is active and energetic, creative, not passive. But the third servant responds very differently. He sets off and digs a hole and then hides his master’s money. So the contrast could not be more clear. The first two servants move out; the third goes away; the first two go to work with what they have; the third digs a hole; the first two servants win some more; the third hides his away. And Jesus’ parable is meant to ask us: Where are we in this parable, and now might we be employing our considerable assets?

Where are we in our lives and in our church? Are we moving out in hope or are we retreating in fear? Now we are in a strange time, a time in which we are actually encouraged to retreat a little, stay at home, hold off, retreat from life. So this is hard and we acknowledge that. But the questions still linger. Where in life are we taking the initiative? It might be with our families, it might be with a new hobby, or in our work, in our community. This is a time of inaction, but somewhere in our lives there is action – where is it? Are we working at it, taking risks here and there in this new environment, or are we digging a hole and crawling in, playing it safe?

I was working on my sermon the other day, and started feeling a little restless, so I went for a walk, asking God to help me engage in conversation with someone. So I saw a man nearby raking his leaves and we had a good conversation, until he started promoting various conspiracy theories, and that ended our conversation. Nevertheless, I made the conscious effort and took the small risk to engage in conversation. And that was important for me, to sort of crawl out from hiding on that day.

Are we grateful for what our master has given us, whether it is five or two or even one talent? And will we leverage what we’ve been blessed with or will we hide away with what little we have? Will we risk putting our assets into play, or protect what we have with no chance of multiplying it? Will we eagerly work with the abundance we have or blame God for what little we have? Do you notice how the third man in our parable blames the master for his meanness. He portrays himself as the victim. Do we sometimes play the victim? Do we live with an attitude of scarcity? Do we blame God and others for our circumstances?

Our church has been greatly blessed – in the years ahead will we risk what has been given to us, even if we lose some of it, or will we hide it away and protect what we have? Our parable this morning strikes directly at the question and quality of our stewardship. What will we do with the talents – the gifts, the money, the property, the skills and the aptitudes we have been given? What will we do with what the Lord gives now and may ask about later?

The good news amidst the challenge of this parable is a bit of mysterious math. Jesus puts it like this – to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance. But from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. Jesus blesses and affirms the creativity and energy and risky faith of the first two servants – “good and faithful servants, you have been trustworthy in a few things I will put you in charge of many things, enter the joy of your master.” When we take risks, even if we fail, we grow in confidence, and we develop the skills we have been given, and that leads to more opportunity and possibility. But if we hide away our skills and talents, bury them, well then we have no chance of advancement, and our gifts will atrophy for lack of use.

Someone once wrote that “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually who are you not to be? You are a child of God.” Jesus once said “You are the light of the world…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Let’s keep letting our light shine friends, in this dark winter ahead. We have been blessed with talents, and gifts, and property and assets and skills. Let us use them to the glory of God today and in the years ahead. Amen.

Matthew 25:1-13, November 8, 2020, Sermon

“Checking Our Oil Reserves” 

Pastor Randy Butler 

As you know, I have been making the trip from Baker to Spokane a lot in the last several months, putting more long distance miles on my car than usual. So I got my oil changed last month, and while I was sitting there waiting for them to finish the service guy came up and said, “You are good to go, but just so you know your oil level was really low, so it’s good you came in.” Sometimes I just don’t get around to things. I’m forgetful, lazy, and I think my car will just run forever, forgetting that it needs a full crankcase of oil to keep going smoothly. I was running low on oil and I didn’t even know it. That’s how it is in life too. Our reserves – emotional, physical, spiritual reserves start running low, and before we know it our engine just stops. We are going to talk about checking that oil level this morning, about keeping our engine going, keeping our lamps burning. 

That’s what our text is about – Jesus is telling a parable about a first century Galilean wedding. No cars, but lots of lamps and light. It seems to have been a first century Jewish tradition that the bridesmaids would wait until everything was ready and then go out and greet the bridegroom as he arrived, usually in the evening, with lamps and celebration and singing. So the bridesmaids had to remember to bring their lamps and check the oil in their lamps.

Weddings require a lot of planning. Do we have the flowers? Are the dresses all altered and hemmed? Who is going to pick up the tuxedos for the groom’s wedding party? Is the reception venue ready? Do we have enough food? Will we have enough champagne for the toasts? Oh and don’t forget the rings – Best Man that’s your job. Some are better at planning these major events than others. That’s why we have wedding planners after all.

So in Jesus’ parable, half of our bridesmaids bring their lamps with extra oil flasks, just in case things go longer than planned. And the other half, “Oh it’ll be okay, we’ll have enough oil. We’ll be fine.” I don’t know about you, but I tend to fall into the latter category. Someone says, “Don’t forget to have a blanket in the car for those long trips back and forth, you might get stuck in snow. Do you have a water bottle? Have you checked your oil?” And my response is, “Oh, we’ll be alright.”

So the wedding does go longer than expected in our parable. In fact, they’ve been waiting so long for the bridegroom that all ten of the bridesmaids fall asleep. But then comes a shout, “The bridegroom is here! Quick! Get up and let’s go out to greet the party! Trim your lamps and let’s go!” Now the bridegroom arrives at midnight, and we begin to wonder if Jesus is talking about more than a festive wedding. Jesus is trying to tell us something about the kingdom of God. And we realize that maybe Jesus is really talking about the coming of himself, the coming of God into our lives, the bridegroom arriving right in the dark midnight of our lives, saying, “Wake up! I am here.”

But there is a problem. The five bridesmaids who neglected to bring extra oil don’t have enough to go out and greet the bridegroom. It’s one of those wedding crisis moments. So they say to the other five, “Well, give some of yours so that we can all go out.” And they answer, “No, then none of us will have enough. Better that five us go than none of us. Go out and get some more oil.” That’s hard to do at midnight on a Saturday. And again we realize that Jesus is getting serious here. Sooner or later we have to decide for ourselves, and take responsibility for ourselves. It’s up to us to check the oil. The foolish bridesmaids, as someone put it, think that since they accepted the invitation to the wedding party, that guarantees their participation in it, and that they need no preparation for it. But we can’t borrow on the faith of others. There is no second-hand or third-hand faith. It is on us at some point. Is there enough there, or are my own faith reserves running low?

In our Old Testament text, Joshua is making the final preparations for life in the new land to which the people have come. How will they live this new life? Joshua puts before the people the choice, “Will it be the gods of the surrounding people that you worship or will it be the Lord? Choose this day whom you will serve,” he says. “You may serve other gods. But just so you know, as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

The question is for us too. Whom will we serve – the gods of consumerism, the gods of power and political beliefs, the gods of the Republicans or the Democrats? Will that be where we put our ultimate trust? The gods that lure us into addictions of various kinds? The gods of the celebrities? Who will we follow in our lives, on this journey? And if it is the Lord, do we have enough reserves to see the journey through to its end? Is there enough oil in our tank? Is there enough fuel to keep our own lamps burning?

It seems to me that we could be in for long, cold and dark winter. COVID-19 is still very much on the loose. That will keep us distanced and apart. We are in an interim time in our church. It might feel sort of unsettled for us. Though the presidential election seems to have been decided, political tensions and uncertainties will not disappear. It is sure to be a contentious few months ahead.

How are your reserves? Is there enough in you to keep faith, hope and love burning bright through the winter months? Or are you saying, “Oh it’ll be fine.” In times like this I ask, “How is my life of prayer? Am I drawing strength and insight and inspiration from scripture and good Christian reading? Am I engaging in worship in person or online? Am I finding a way to serve and give? Am I staying in touch with other fellow travelers on the journey of faith? What am I doing to keep faith, hope and love alive and burning brightly?”

We have to answer Joshua’s question, “Whom will you serve” everyday, over and over again. We have to renew our commitment to Jesus Christ, the bridegroom, again and again. A few years ago, a man called me at the church I served in Seattle and said that he was married in our church about twenty five years ago. It was before I had arrived as pastor. His anniversary was coming up and he wondered if he could come over to the church to see the sanctuary again. They were thinking about renewing their wedding vows. So he came over and we talked and he asked me if I would help them renew their vows in the church where they were married twenty five years before. And I said that I would be delighted to do that. So the day came, exactly the day of their anniversary. It was the middle of the week. Just the two of them arrived, no witnesses, and we had a short ten minute service. It was a touching and moving service. We all cried together. I barely even knew them and we were all crying through this.

It meant something for them to renew their vows after twenty five years, because a lot had taken place in those years that might have broken those vows. Would they stay together in sickness and health? Would their commitment survive plenty and want? Would they really get through joy and sorrow? And yet here they were saying to one another again, “I do.”

We are not alone friends. Our beloved bridegroom has come, does come to us, and will come, even in the dark midnights of our lives. But the question is still before us. Are we ready? How are we engaging with life, with God? Is it just a frivolous undertaking? “Oh we’ll have enough, we’ll be alright.” Or are we moving through life thoughtfully and prayerfully, taking life seriously?

The journey of faith is a long journey. Let’s keep our reserves up, so that our lives burn brightly with love for our Lord. And remember to say “I do,” to the God who loves us everyday. 

Matthew 23:1-12, November 1, 2020, Sermon

“True Church Leadership” 

Pastor Randy Butler

On the eve a presidential election we are thinking a lot about leadership these days. Who we want to lead our country, what kind of leader we believe we need for our country. The words of Jesus in our text this morning aren’t directed to political leadership specifically but they have meaning for leaders in all walks of life – in politics, in schools, churches, business, and family. Wherever we have leaders, wherever you may be a leader, these words will have meaning and relevance.

As we read the critical nature of Jesus’ words here, what he says first is kind of surprising. Speaking to the crowds and to his disciples he says, “Do whatever the scribes and Pharisees teach you and follow it.” He has no interest in overthrowing the teaching of Moses and the law, and what we call the Old Testament. He has a deep reverence for the teachings of the Old Testament. And he wants his listeners to follow those teachings. But very quickly Jesus adds this: “but don’t do what they do, because they do not practice what they teach.” In other words, “Do as they say but not as they do.” As one of the old church leaders said, “They preach one thing with their words, and they preach another thing with their outward conduct.” The scribes and the Pharisees do not walk their talk.

So as Jesus speaks with his followers he describes first what we don’t want in our leaders. He first talks about poor leadership, what good leadership is not. And the first thing about poor leadership is that it is without grace and mercy. Jesus says these leaders load up heavy burdens on people but they don’t lift a finger to help them bear the load. If you have ever had a boss or a supervisor who delegates all the hard work and then goes home early you know what we are talking about. If you’ve ever worked hard and faithfully for someone over the years only to be thrown under the bus when things get hard, well then you know what we mean.

Leaders in all walks of life can place high expectations on others that they themselves could never meet. We do that too sometimes, especially in our families. We have high expectations of our children, but we never met those same expectations when we were young. Poor leadership shows no mercy, no grace. Current models of national and political leadership demonstrate very little mercy and grace. And whether it is in our political leadership, church leadership or in our families, we need leaders who can demonstrate grace and mercy to those who follow. Poor leadership is without grace.

Poor leadership is also all about the outward appearance, all about the show. The religious leaders of Jesus’ time were fond of wearing long robes with decorative tassels, and they placed large leather containers on their arms and foreheads with the words and prayers of scripture. The larger the better, to show how pious they were in public. Big show, little substance. As they say in Texas, maybe here too - big hat, no cattle. Lot’s a talk, lots of show but little to back it up. All about the photo-ops. They were hypocrites. We have enough hypocrisy in politics. We have it in the leadership of businesses and we have it in our churches. My prayer for our church is that our new pastor will be a person of simplicity, whose outward and inward lives match, whose words and actions are congruent. So that what we see in a pastor is what we get in a pastor.

Poor leadership is all about the show, not the substance. And Jesus points out that poor leadership is focused on being up front, in the limelight, all about the pursuit of personal greatness. The rabbis liked the front seats at the banquet table, and they loved the recognition they received in public, on the streets, in the market and the synagogues. And they liked to be called rabbi, a term of respect. All leaders are susceptible to this – we like to be recognized for who we are and what we do, and we like our titles. That’s OK, as long as it doesn’t become vanity. So we could say that for Jesus poor leadership is without grace, all about outward appearances, and focused on personal gain and recognition. Today we would say that poor leadership is self-centered, all about me. That is not good leadership, by Jesus’ definition.

So after describing false or poor leadership, Jesus goes on to identify good and true leadership. We can see this shift in the words, “But you,” in verse 8. After his critique of the scribes and Pharisees, he says, “But you,’ and so we are ready for a new way of leading. A few weeks ago we noted in another text in Matthew the words, “But Jesus,” and we saw as Jesus took a question about paying taxes in a completely new direction, so when we hear the words, “But you,” we know Jesus is drawing a contrast and is going to describe a new way, the true way of our being and leading in the world and our lives.

But you, he says, are not to be called rabbi, for you have one teacher, and you are all students. We all like our titles. We like to be called doctor, or pastor, or teacher, or nurse, or CEO, or company president or vice president. And titles are necessary, as long as they don’t separate us from the rest and place us on a pedestal. One of the greatest “doctors” of the twentieth century church and theology was Karl Barth. But Barth was careful to say, right in the middle of his many volume series on Christian theology, that the Christian life is never anything but the work of beginners…we can become masters and even virtuosos in many things but never in what makes us Christians, God’s children.” Here titles do not matter.

In the Presbyterian Church we have tried to practice this with the way we title our leaders. We have gone back and forth in trying to work this out, but recently we have called ministers and pastors teaching elders, and those who lead the church ruling elders. We have tried sometimes awkwardly to strive for equality and parity of ministry, to lessen the distinction between clergy and laity. Our leaders are all elders, some are ruling some teaching elders. Partly this is due to modern American informality. It is less common today to call someone Reverend so and so. I knew someone who was a stickler for precise language who thought I should be called the Reverend Randy Butler. I resisted that. It seems to be getting close to what Jesus is saying here in our text. Watch out for the titles. And again I hope and pray for a new pastor who cares little for titles and initials after the name, and degrees.

Now if we Protestants have our doctors and PhDs, the Catholic Church has its Fathers. And so it will always be the challenge of the Catholic tradition to watch out for the prestige of the title father, not to mention the titles bishop and pope. Every religious tradition has its titles and they betray the church’s worldly inclination towards placing some above others. Jesus has harsh words for this inclination, and invites us, commands us to a better way, a true, more humble way of leadership.

Finally Jesus adds that we are not to be called teachers or instructors, for we have one teacher the Messiah. A good teacher is one who is also receptive to being taught. Some people are teachers by job title, some are teachers by nature. They are always teaching. You can never really tell them anything – they always have to tell you, teach you. They are what we call didactic. Well, Jesus is saying that even our teachers have to learn and be taught. And so the best teacher of our churches will always be open, receptive, flexible to always learning and growing and listening, even as they teach and preach. I hope and pray that your new pastor, preacher and teacher will be such a person. Teaching always in openness to the teacher the Messiah Jesus Christ.

Jesus sums up what good and true leadership is – it is servanthood. “The greatest among you he says will be your servant. True greatness is not about ourselves but about serving others. So any of us in leadership positions will have to ask, “Am I in this for status or service?” The best leaders are not above or below their others, they are equal – they serve with others together. They do ministry together.

One leader who understood and lived this was the priest Henri Nouwen. He was a gifted communicator and teacher, and held posts at Yale and Harvard. He was energetic, passionate, and people flocked to his lectures. But he was also restless, himself open to the Spirit’s nudge and urging for something more true. And eventually he became the spiritual guide of a community of people with disabilities called the L’Arche community in Toronto, Canada.

On one of his lecture tours, a trip to Washington D.C., he took Bill Van Buren, one of the disabled residents of L’Arche. He stressed with Bill that they were going to do this together. One night when Henri was done speaking, Bill said to Henri and the gathered audience, “Henri. Can I say something now?” This made Henri a little nervous he wasn’t sure what Bill might say or do. But they were doing this together, so… Bill took the microphone and spoke, “Last time, when Henri went to Boston, he took John Smeltzer. This time he wanted me to come with him to Washington, and I am very glad to be with you here. Thank you very much.” That was it. That is all he said. Later he asked, “Henri, how did you like my speech?” Henri said, “I liked it very much,” and Bill was delighted, and added, “And we did it together didn’t we.”

My hope and prayer is that you and your new pastor will serve together, side by side. I like the way that Jim Kauth said it once, “We want someone who will relate to us as we have come to relate to one another.” That is what good and true Christian leadership is. Serving in the name of Jesus, and doing it together with us.

Matthew 22: 36-40, 1 Thes: 4: 7b-8, October 25, 2020, Sermon

God’s Love and Change

Jim Kauth

36 “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” 37 He said to him, “ ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the greatest and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matt 22:36-40) 

Love God with everything that makes us who we are, love our neighbor with the same devotion and commitment we love God and love ourselves as we love our God and neighbor. 

Paul gives us a wonderful example in loving God; 

4 but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the message of the gospel, even so we speak, not to please mortals, but to please God who tests our hearts. 

And Paul also gives us a wonderful example in loving our neighbors 

But we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children. 8 So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us. (1 Thes: 4, 7b-8) 

Jesus did not qualify His statement about the two greatest commandments of God. Jesus didn’t say love God, love your neighbor as yourself if it’s easy, if those around you agree with you, if no one objects, if it isn’t dangerous, if you feel like it, if you have time. No, Jesus flatly states You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. 

On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. To enter into a relationship with God is to commit everything you are because God commits to you all that God is! Hear Psalm 90:

• Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.
• Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, so that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
• Let your work be manifest to your servants, and your glorious power to their children.
• Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and prosper for us the work of our hands— O prosper the work of our hands!

(this last verse I misread once, I read as “let the flavor of the Lord our God be upon us – it’s not so far fetched, I like this reference to flavor. In The Message translation we hear about God colors, well, I also think we would benefit from God Flavor!!!) 

This Psalm is a lament, a plea for God to continue to care for us, this psalm is a lament with hope because God had previously proven God’s love for us, we pray for God to remember God’s commitment and love for us as God has loved us in the past. 

Now, let’s look a little closer at 1 Thessalonians. In our reading today we hear about an incident in Philippi. The crowd was worked up and went looking for Paul and Silas to have them arrested. In the Book of Acts, we also read about that same incident in more detail. Paul, Silas and others who traveled with Paul were always getting run out of town, arrested and jailed. Why? Because, what Paul was preaching pushed people out of their comfort zones. What Paul preached heralded change! 

Jesus was pursued by people who needed healing; physical, mental and spiritual healing. Jesus forgave sinners and called for a change of heart, a change of ways, otherwise known as repentance. He would say, “Your sins are forgiven, go and sin no more!” Yet the Hebrew rulers - Herod, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, all rejected the message of Jesus. Why? Because this message of God’s love called for change. 

People say us old folks don’t like change, it is true! But us old folks are like everyone else. None of us like change, even if change is for the better. Even when we feel we are in control of the change, we don’t like it! Change is new territory; change takes effort, energy, and change, to be permanent, takes commitment. And then there’s change where we don’t feel in control. We not only don’t like it, we don’t want it and we become hard-hearted and stiff-necked as we resist this change. Like the people in Philippi! 

For us, Disciples of Christ, we live in constant change as God perfects us, as God tempers us and makes us better tools for God’s use. As Disciples of Christ we are committed to this ever changing growth toward becoming “Christ like.” But there are times we don’t like it! Add to this continual “Christian change” we weather life’s changes. Changes that come with age, that come with retirement, that come with a new job or losing a job, that come with children being born or growing up and moving out. Then we must adjust to changes in our communities, changes in our town, our county, state, nation and most importantly in our community of faith. Many of these changes are not our doing, not our choice, but still we must adjust to these changes. 

Do we, as Christians, just get through change, just deal with change as best we can and then, at the first opportunity, revert back to our old ways? Are we like the church in Corinth? Who struggled to break their old habits, their old religious and cultural habits which allowed them to get along with others in Corinth but not to grow in Christ? Or are we like the Thessalonians who opened their hearts to the “Good News”, who learned to love as God loves, who practiced this divine love by loving their neighbors and who loved themselves as they love their neighbors. 

It is true, not all change is good for us. Paul praised the Thessalonians because they were suffering persecution and held to the truth Paul preached. Their larger community wanted to impose a change, wanted this young church to let go of the “Good News” and return to the old ways like everyone else. How did the Thessalonians recognize Paul’s preaching as good change and their persecution as an attempt to change them in a not good way? When the Thessalonians embraced the “Good News”, they were baptized, claimed by God. When they embraced the “Good News” and their baptismal commitment, they grew in Christ. When they grew in Christ they were open to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. God’s Holy Spirit knows the difference between good change and bad change. 

How do we navigate this changing world? How do we recognize good, healthy, life affirming change? We stay connected to God! We grow in Christ! We pray continually, we hold to our baptismal commitment and we boldly preach, in words and action as we model our lives in the form of Christ to this world. We care for others as God cares for us and we care for ourselves. 

How do we care for ourselves as we care for each other and our neighbors? In addition to staying connected to God, we must allow the true story of this creation, as told in the Bible, to color and influence our culture, our society and how we see our lives. We must put our life into the Biblical story so we can put the Bible into our lives. We must live our lives in balance. You know, live a Goldie Locks life, not too hot, not too cold but just right! Now I’m not saying live life without passion like the Church in Laodicea (lay ahd ih SEE uh) neither cold nor hot as recorded in Revelation. But live a life that harmonizes with God’s desires balancing our care for others without excessive worry, giving of ourselves yet not draining ourselves, staying as physically active as we can without harming ourselves, eating healthy without letting food control us. 

In the Letter of James he says; “Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed.” This is not just about confessing your sins so you remain humble it is also about sharing your struggles, it is about listening to our brothers and sisters attentively, this is about maintaining our mental health and validating or correcting how we see this world. Hear James; “Listen, open your ears, harness your desire to speak, and don’t get worked up into a rage so easily, my brothers and sisters. 20Human anger is a futile exercise that will never produce God’s kind of justice in this world.” These are healthy disciplines; listen attentively, guard our tongues, curb out fearful emotions. 

We must seek to accept those things we cannot change yet passionately pursue change for the benefit of our community and this world. How do we know when we can or cannot change things? Well, we come full circle, we return to our triune God, learning to love rightly and caring rightly as God loves and cares for us rightly, practicing this divine love and care with our neighbors and finally loving and caring for the most difficult person to love and care for rightly, ourselves. This is the seed of God’s justice and justice walks hand in hand with God’s peace. 

May God continue to shower grace and blessing on each of you, may you, in turn share God’s grace with others so God’s justice and peace may rest on this world like a warm and comforting blanket. Remember you are a blessing to this broken world. 

Amen. 

Philippians 4:1-9, October 11, 2020, Sermon

“Standing Firm” 

Pastor Randy Butler

Every summer when I was growing up in Sacramento we would pile in the car and drive two hours to the Sierra Nevada mountains to the family cabin near Truckee, California. As we took the exit off of Interstate 80 we started down an eight mile dirt road to the cabin. About three quarters of the way down that road, around a big wide bend, we always stopped for a view of the meadow below where you could make out the cabins and the clubhouse. Above the meadow there was a range of mountains, where the highest and most visible was Mt. Lyon, which stood against a background of blue sky as a kind of sentinel over the valley below. Mt. Lyon had always been there. It was there before I was born, it was there when I climbed its slippery rock slopes, and it will be there when I am gone. Mt. Lyon has stood without being moved for millennia, and it will likely go on in the same way, standing firm amidst all the changes around it taking place below.

The Apostle Paul is writing to the Philippians from his imprisonment and in this part of his letter he is exhorting them to stand firm: “Therefore my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved:” He is going to outline the way to stand firm. Another translation simply says, “This is how you stand firm in the Lord:”

The first key to standing firm is unity and reconciliation. Paul refers to two women who seem to be at odds – Euodia and Syntyche. And he encourages the others in the church to help them be reconciled. Reconciliation is the work of the whole church. We help each other in the work of forgiveness. And he is not judging these women. Paul recognizes that they have struggled beside him in the work of the gospel. They are his co-workers and he wants them to live in harmony because that is the way we stand firm. As Jesus said elsewhere, a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. Abraham Lincoln knew the meaning of those words, when he said to a deeply divided nation, just before the outbreak of the Civil War, a house divided against itself cannot stand.

Well, a church divided against itself cannot stand. If there is any disunity in our midst let’s work with each other to reconcile. Same is true of the larger Presbytery. And I want to take this opportunity to encourage a new and fresh relationship with the Eastern Oregon Presbytery. Many in our congregation feel hurt and neglected by our Presbytery, and that is legitimate. But a Presbytery is simply a fellowship of churches in a geographical area. There is no faceless Presbytery apart from the individual churches, pastors and elders who make up the Presbytery. We are the Presbytery. I am struck in this part of the passage that Paul names three individuals – Euodia, Syntyche and Clement, and addresses one more, one he calls his loyal companion. The Presbytery is made up of individual ruling elders and teaching elders who have other jobs and commitments, who are human beings with some faults. The Presbytery consists of living breathing human beings. It is not a faceless bureaucracy. I encourage us to move towards forgiveness of various individuals, some of whom are not even active in the Presbytery anymore, towards reconciliation and unity, so that the Eastern Oregon Presbytery stands firm with one mind in the work of the gospel in this part of the country. And we move on as a church from the past, and prepare for the future. We hope to share with you some practical ways to do this in the months ahead.

So unity is the first way we stand firm. The second is joy. Paul says, “Rejoice always, again I will say rejoice.” It’s like he is saying Rejoice always – I said it once and I’ll say it again – rejoice.” Joy is the second way we stand firm, fortified by gratitude and thanksgiving. Now this is a hard time we are going through in our nation. But there are ways to find joy even in the midst of pandemics and other challenges. We are not expected to rejoice specifically in our difficult circumstances, we are rather invited to rejoice in the Lord – whatever our circumstances. Notice how joy and gentleness and the nearness of the Lord all show up here in the same couple of lines. It’s like the Lord draws near in our joy and gentleness.

So unity and joy are two pillars of the church that stands firm. The third is peace. More specifically, the absence of worry. And again this is a worrisome time. In addition to our personal concerns there are national and international concerns that press upon us in a way they haven’t before. There is a lot to be worried about! I read a humorous re-interpretation of the famous children’s book, Goodnight Moon, recently. Do you know the book - the little rabbit who crawls under the covers to go to sleep and says goodnight to everything, “Goodnight room, goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumping over the moon.” Well the modern timely rendition shows the rabbit in bed, covers pulled up all cozy in the same way, now saying, “Good night moon, goodnight zoom, goodnight sense of impending doom.”

Paul encourages us to wrap our worry in prayer. Now Paul himself is concerned about the Philippians, even worried. In fact he says earlier in the letter that he is sending Epaphroditus to them partly so that “I may be less anxious.” That’s what he writes. So Paul is human – he knows worry. But he does not become consumed with worry. A couple of things I try to do when I am overcome with worry. First, I reduce my caffeine intake, coffee or tea consumption – some of this is very practical. I try to get some aerobic exercise, something that gets my heart going and lowers my anxiety. And I also adapt my prayer to my worry. I find it helpful to have a time of silence every day during prayer or another time. But here is what happens when I remove myself from the external noise of the world – I discover that I am very noisy inside as well. Our worry comes to the surface during the quiet of prayer. That is often why we avoid quiet prayer. We find it disturbing that here we are trying to pray and all we are doing is worrying. So what should we do? We make our current worry the subject of our prayer and give it to God in prayer. We don’t need to make a list of our worries and pray about them. Our worries show up in silence without much prompting. So if a worry arises as you pray, well that is now your prayer and petition, or supplication as Paul says, because it is in your heart and your life. That worry, right now is your life, so it might as well be your prayer. This is one way that prayer and real life connect. We don’t need to avoid worry, as if it is somehow unspiritual. We just use our worried life as the raw material for our prayer.

And when we can do that we eventually begin to experience the peace of God which guards our hearts and minds. This is not only the peace which comes from God, it is the peace of God, God’s own stillness, the very peace in which God himself reposes. Someone else calls it the tranquility of God’s own eternal being – for us and in us. The struggle of our worried prayer will finally be resolved in the peace of God.

This prayer which transforms worry, and gives peace, is yet another of the ways we stand firm. And the final pillar of the standing firm in church and life is positive influence and outlook. Paul encourages us to think about truth, honor, justice, purity, excellence and whatever is worthy of praise. This is more than just positive thinking. It is the guarding of our hearts and minds from the opposite influences. Very hard to do today. I recommend to you a Netflix documentary called the Social Dilemma. It is a very well done but disturbing piece on the effects of social media in our day. It is almost impossible to guard our hearts and minds so we have to exercise what the old desert saints called watchfulness – keeping watch over what gets inside our hearts and minds and souls, because if we aren’t careful we can be overcome by negativity about our world and ourselves.

Our translation says “Whatever is positive etc., think about these things.” Another translation says think on these things.” In other words fix our minds on whatever is true, honorable and so on. On a daily basis, what do you find your mind is fixed on? Paul encourages us to fix our minds on what can makes us stand firm as individuals and as a church.

Unity, the presence of the Lord found in joy and gentleness, giving our worry to God in prayer, and focusing on the best around us and in us not the worst. These are the pillars that fortify our lives, our congregation, our Presbytery and our world. They make us like the mountain – “Those who trust in the Lord, says the Psalmist are like Mt. Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever.” This is the way to live. Amen.