Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea
Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I
am?”
And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others,
Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.”
He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?”
Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.”
And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.
Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo
great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the
scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite
openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and
looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For
you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
Jesus called the crowd with his disciples, and said to
them,
“If any want to become my
followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For
those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life
for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it
profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can
they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words
in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be
ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”
***
One of my favorite moments in all of literature is when Huck
Finn gets to witness his own funeral. The idea and scene fascinate me because
Huck gets to secretly witness the answer to the question of, "Who do
people say that I am?” The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn ends with the
community, thinking he and Tom Sawyer have died, and everyone is gathered in
the church. Mark Twain describes,
“The clergyman drew such pictures
of the graces, and winning ways of the poor boys, (though in their life the
community) had as persistently seen only faults and flaws. The minister related
many a touching incident in the lives of the departed, which illustrated their
sweet, generous natures, and the people could easily see, now, how noble and
beautiful those episodes were, and remembered with grief that at the time they occurred
the boys had seemed rank rascalities, well deserving of the cowhide.”
At this point in the boys church service Huck and Tom come
down from the balcony and open up the sanctuary doors, coming forward like
ghosts. The book ends with this balance, that the boys are not merely seen as
rascals, as the community has treated them, somewhat deservedly, but they also
have some redeeming characteristics. I remember similarly, watching the news
about a president after his death and asking my father, an American History
professor, if the glowing commentary was accurate. “People are much more
generous immediately after death,” he explained. It was nice to hear,
considering the bashing politicians undergo throughout their life, that at
least in death, for a moment things even out. Yet, part of me wished
society was more evenhanded about who we say that someone is.
Jesus, in his time, was getting some of this same kind of
bashing from those within the religious institution who feared his power and
his following. Like pundent’s of political parties, Jesus could neither do no
right, nor any wrong depending on whom was relaying the story. And like many at
the end of life, Jesus, was thinking about his own legacy and wanted a more
even handed assessment. So he asks his friends, the disciples, “Who do people
say that I am?” And the, disciples answered him, “John the Baptist; and others,
Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” The outside world thought Jesus
was someone with profound things to say, someone whose life pointed God. And
though any one of us might be happy and complemented by this comparison, I
think Jesus was looking for more. Jesus believed himself to be God. Jesus
needed the people to see him as such, not just like any other prophet. I think
Jesus was hoping his closest friends saw this difference. So he asked the
disciples if there was difference between who the outside world saw him
as, and who those closest to him know him to be. "But who do you say that
I am?” he asks the disciples, and Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah,”
which meant the anointed one, the Christ, the one who will bring great change
to the world. Peter saw Jesus not simply as a person or prophet who lived
but that Jesus was God living among the people. I think Peter’s answer was for
what Jesus was hoping. It let Jesus know that his ministry was on track. That
even if the disciples would not completely understand his death they would
understand enough of his life to know that God was with them in the flesh. As
if in silent confirmation of Peter’s statement, Jesus, “sternly ordered them
not to tell anyone about him.”
I feel Jesus’ curiosity of wanting to know how you are seen.
I am someone who loves to be teased because I feel, “To be teased is to be
known.” Its to have a friendship deep enough that teasing wont test it, to have
confidence strong enough to balance a joke with a compliment, but mostly, I
love being teased, because I get a glimpse both of myself, and of how I am
seen. I get to know how I compare to others, to see how I function in the
outside world. Liz Romtvedt is one of my favorite teasers. Liz has an amazing
gift of accessing and naming the world around her, and as friend she is able to
name my quirks and failings with a humor that is disarming, charming and accurately
challenging. Likewise, she can deliver a compliment. In both ways I see in
myself as I hadn’t before. One of my favorite moments was riding up the ski
hill at Anthony Lakes and Liz was tightening her
daughter, Magnolia’s, helmet. I knew myself well enough to know that my fine
motor skills were not going to be able to tighten my helmet with gloves on, nor
was my coordination such that I could take off my gloves without them falling
below on the face of the hill, which was too advanced for me to ski and
retrieve them. Picturing all this, I asked, “Can I call you Momma Liz, and can
you tighten my helmet?” And without missing a beat, and simultaneously leaning
over to help, she said, “Only if I can call you Daisy,” a name close enough to
ditzy, and sounding a little Southern, that it was an instant fit for what she
also calls, “my hidden disabilities.” Its been a great alter ego on whom I can
blame the clumsy things I do, but it also has helped me to see how quickly I
give up rather than attempt to learn to tighten my helmet with gloves, or keep
them from falling, or ski the face of the hill. There was another time, I felt
I had been needy, and begrudged myself for not offering enough in return, and
Liz told me that what I gave was a contagious, joie de vie (joy of life). That
I helped others see and experience the wonder of the world and life around
them. This compliment was what I needed to hear, and it has both bolstered me
many times since, but also been a measure of if I am using my gifts or am I bogged
down in other things. Everyone needs a friend like this. Even Jesus needs
friends like this, and we as a church need friends like this. We need people
that despite our failings, see who God created us to be.
Some of you have heard both complement and critique from
those who know our church. We are known in the community as a place that
welcomes youth. We are a church with young people, with kids enough for a
children's sermon, with youth enough for youth group, with young families, and
with Vacation Bible School.
Youth are valued in this church and it shows. The congregation continues to
struggle through hymns that the young people love, though you may not know that
tune and the words are unfamiliar, and the rhythm jumpier then you might
perhaps like. No matter the fundraiser, nor the mission trip, when the youth
ask for funds to serve you give your least coin and when they report back to
the congregation you fill the pews.
We are a church are also open, in ways the outside world can
deem progressive and sometimes out there. You don't just read the Bible merely
literally, parts of it you do, other parts you see as metaphor, other parts you
read historically, still others you think about culturally. You are church that
has no one way to read the Bible, no one way to experience God. Your
church you can have a dialogue about the different views of same-sex marriage.
You are a church where forest service workers sit next to ranchers and
farmers and all value that each one of you is seeking best for the land and
it's creatures.
We are known in the community for being leaders and for
being servants. Luke has joked that we are the Presbyterian powerhouse,
multiple principles and vice principals outstanding teachers and youth who lead
their schools, student body president and heads of their classes. You look at
boards in the community and there we are, you look at heaps of pancakes at the
Lions Club breakfast at minors Jubilee and there we are stirring up batter or
just shoveling stacks on plates. We are known as a church that feeds people.
Our backpack program which sends food home with kids on weekends and our open
door program which feeds them on school days, have yearly been written up in
the newspaper with big photographs of work we this congregation should be
proud of doing. The food bank quietly gives families each month food that has
been packed by our youth, the Conklin's, the Moons, all led by Gary Ball. Who
do people say that we are, we are open, we embrace youth and
children, we are leaders. We serve the community and feed people.
But there are ways in which we also come across perhaps not
as we wish. Statistically, nationally, Presbyterians are the most well educated
and the wealthiest denomination. This town knows about our endowment, this town
knows about Roger's fellowship hall. And while, Mildred Rogers and other’s
gifts of enormity are something for which to be greatly thankful, I wonder what
it would be like to be known in the community for our stewardship? What would
it be like if we spent as much time celebrating the increase of last year's
offerings, as we do focused on the decrease in last month's portfolio? Are we a
historically wealthy church as people say we are, or do we want to be generous
givers? I wonder if the resource of our fellowship hall could be similar a
resource for the community. We already share this resource in some ways, be it
funeral receptions the deacons host, the community orchestra and choir
practices, taking off the pounds and Al-Anon meetings, but there have been times
we have been worried that AA will spill too much coffee on the carpet. Yet they
have taught us something about tithing without ever being asked to give, they
often give exorbitantly of their resources, and share their verbal gratitude,
which is nothing compared to the ministry they do for those who find a welcome
place in their fellowship. How does our building become not one of grandeur and
affluence but one which is seen as our stewardship is continued? How do our
resources become more than ours how do we become a resource? How does that
openness we have become prophetic rather than merely progressive?
There are also characteristics of who we are as a church
that I don’t believe the community knows. Do they know we are a family?
Together we raise the children of the church, and each other as children of God
and help one another grow. Rick Rembold and Jim Kauth noted Evan’s propensity
toward building things, and his strong work ethic, and taught him about tithe
and talent together painting the side the church. Likewise, Bob McKim found out
I didn’t know how to drive stick shift and wanted to learn. I felt like his
daughter as he took me out in the Rohner’s cattle field on Kyra’s first car,
and explained the system of gears and motors. I felt a child’s pride those
times I shifted and Bob said, “perfect!” Likewise this church is a family in
the way we love one another despite our differences and failings. The learning
curve for a first call pastor is steep and in my first six months we had the
epic universal church debate about the American Flag in the sanctuary, and not
only am I still your pastor, but we laugh about it now, a good tease. We know
one anther, our friendship is deep enough not only for compliments but also for
critique, and there is always space for laughter. I have watched you likewise
learn one another’s quirks and seek to support each other’s strengths. You know
Yvonne’s quiet thoughtfulness would be great at writing cards and she is now a
deacon, and Karen Kolb Schoenigh experience in churches and at work means
she’ll be great leading our mission programs and is. We are a family. We
know this so deeply and have experienced it’s welcome, but how do we share
that?
How do those looking in, from this park, from these homes,
from these businesses name us as God’s family, serving the community with
openness, and generosity? We have to be that in the world. The community has to
be our close friends or disciples, we have to welcome them in, and moreover we
have to go out and serve, we have to see this town as family, we have to get to
the point we can tease this town, that our standing with one another is that
strong, that forgiving, that close as friends knowing. We don’t want a funeral
with only niceties, we want to be who we are called to be, and for that
identity to be known. We want to be God in the community. Amen.
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