Saturday, August 28, 2010

Who Will You Bring to the Welcome Table?

Texts:

Acts 8:26-39; Romans 12:3-21; Luke 14:1, 7-24


We would like you to preach on any scripture that some Christians point to as proof of God's view on homosexuality. We'd like to know the "actual" meaning of those verses so we can be armed against it with knowledge, for us and for our daughter. (L & M)


As we come to the close of our summer season, we are also coming the the close of the Uncommon Lectionary series. I address L & M's request in the August newsletter, and I have re-posted my old "Bible Bullets" paper to the website. If you go to uccbrainerd.org and click on the "Bible Bullets" box, you will be linked directly to the paper. In it, I address several of the scriptures that some people fire at GLBT and allied folk. But knowing the "actual" meaning, as M and L call it, in quotes, will not stop the assault of anti-gay rhetoric.

Somebody said-- maybe it was Brett Farve-- somebody said "The best defense is a good offense." Explaining why we don't hold those few verses in the bible as God's final word on sexuality is a defensive tactic. Articulating what we do believe about God's embrace of all the people, that would be the offensive tactic.

The story of the Ethiopian eunuch is, to me, one of those revelations of the wideness of God's mercy, the breadth of God's embrace. It is an affirmation that those who have been marginalized and ostracized and disenfranchised belong in the church. They are not just allowed in the church, as if through a side door, they belong in the church as members of the body of Christ, and as leaders too.

The man in the chariot was a student of the Hebrew bible, the law and the prophets, but he could not become a Jew. Not because he was an African-- but because he was a eunuch. He was without, and according to the Levitical code-- the same code that is quoted to condemn gays, by the way-- according to the Levitical code he was barred from the temple.

The man in the chariot, the Ethiopian eunuch, had been reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah, about the suffering servant, "in his humiliation justice was denied him," and in that verse he found someone he could relate to, having just come from Jerusalem, where he was doubly the outcast (a foreigner and a eunuch), doubly humiliated. About whom does the prophet speak? About himself, or somebody else? Philip told him about Jesus, and he almost did not dare believe it. Could this mean there was a place for him?

"Here is water, what is to prevent me from being baptized," he asked. "What is to prevent me--" no one else in scripture speaks in this way, as if he is preparing himself for rejection, once again. Waiting to hear the reason-- "You're black. You're a eunuch." But no. There was no rejection.

The man was baptized at once, and went on his way rejoicing. Post-canonical legend has it that the Ethiopian later became the founder of the Christian church in Ethiopia. If so, then who and when was the first sexual minority elected bishop? It wasn't Gene Robinson in 2003 after all!

This isn't the only story, the scriptures are full of affirmations of God's expansive embrace. The table of the Lord is a welcome table. In an age when so many people decline the invitation, why would the church deny a place at the table to anyone who responds to the call?

What if we made the parable of the great banquet our story? What if we decided, as a congregation, that this is our metaphor for ministry in the coming months? Every week, a banquet is prepared. A sermon stews for days, until it's just right. The musicians rehearse. The table is adorned with flowers. The hosts make lemonade and coffee to go with the desert, the greeters are ready to open the doors, Shirley is at the guestbook with pens and the extra nametags.

Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors, where are all the people? Sixty, Seventy, Eighty people, that's good, but there is still room. Ninety, one-hundred, one-hundred and ten... still room! Go out into the highways and compel them to come in, the host says in the parable, my table must be full. People can't eat, if they're not here.

Many people received the invitation and declined. Does the host say to the servants, go out and beg those people to reconsider, please? No. The host focuses on the people who haven't yet received an invitation. The host sends the servants out to find the people who do not know that a banquet is prepared and they are welcome.

I met a man last week who started a GLBT support group at the VA hospital. He asked the group how many of them had grown up in a church. Nearly all raised their hands. Then he asked how many were involved in a church at present. None but a few raised their hands. Most didn't know of a church where they would be welcome.

Who else missed the invitation? Maybe they are under the mistaken impression that they aren't invited, because they are poor, and they think the church is only for people with money to give, or they are single, and they think the church is only for traditional families, or they have no children, and they think the church is only recruiting people who can fill the Sunday School. Maybe they are tone deaf and think the church is only for people who can sing.

If you were one of those servants, called to fill up the welcome table, who would you find? Who would you bring?

Who will you bring to the welcome table?

Thursday, August 26, 2010

The Heart's Desire

For Sunday, August 15, in the Uncommon Lectionary Series.
Texts: Philippians 4:10-23; Luke 16:13-15; Luke 20:45-21:4

"For the Uncommon Lectionary, will you read the story of Jesus going to the temple and seeing the poor widow put her tiny coin into the offering box, and pointing out to the arrogant rich guys that she has given more than they have. This was one of my favoirtes when mother read to me from Hurlbut's Stories from the Bible." --Doris A.

"Luke 16 Puzzling!" -- Anonymous

Jesus, in the passages we read today, offered a lesson in contrasts: those who contribute relatively little, and make a big show of it, compared to those who give their little all, without fanfare, without any expectation of receiving accolades in return. Those who publicize their generosity have at least mixed intentions-- if we assume they have at least some inclination to do good, that intention is mixed with the need to lift themselves up above others. Their heart is divided-- serving others and themselves. But the widow gives with a singular heart, devoted to God and to others in need. I imagine her smiling, rejoicing as she approached the treasury, pleased that she had something to share.

I have seen it again and again, those who know what it is to be in need are often first in generosity. I remember during the great Midwestern floods of 1993, Bangladesh sent sandbags to Iowa. Iowa farmers, who had likely given to poverty relief through their churches, received aid from those whom they had previously looked upon as the less fortunate! It was biblical.

The church in Philippi was, according to the letters of the apostle Paul, particularly generous. Even though the Philippians were poor, as compared to other communities, they outshone the wealthier churches in generosity, and Paul lifted them up as an example to the church in Corinth (you can read about it in the 8th chapter of 2nd Corinthians).

Jesus taught his followers that they could not serve God and wealth. The first Christians, according to the book of Acts, shared everything, and if anyone had lands or properties, they sold them, and gave the proceeds to the church, to distribute according to need. Yes, according to the New Testament, the voluntary redistribution of wealth is a Christian virtue. We call it generosity.

But not everyone is equally virtuous. We admire St. Francis of Assisi and Mother Teresa of Calcutta, but not everyone can be St. Francis or Mother Teresa.

Paul explained this in terms of spiritual gifts. We may earnestly desire the higher gifts, we may earnestly desire to be like St. Francis, Mother Teresa, or the widow at the temple, but that level of generosity and devotion may be beyond us, for a time. We can practice generosity to the best of our ability, and trust that we may grow in this as well as other spiritual gifts.

I like the way the apostle Paul put it in his final greeting to the church that he loved so dearly. "I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. "

Paul does not say what the secret is, just that he learned it. I believe the secret has something to do with the heart's desire.

Consider your heart's desire. If our hearts are set on wealth, on material comforts, we are sure to be miserable, always searching for more. But with our hearts set on union with God, we will know such joy! Because the story of scripture assures us that we are God's heart's desire. God yearns for us passionately. So let us set our hearts on God. Hear what the Spirit is saying to the church.

How Can We Keep from Shining

Another sermon in the "Uncommon Lectionary" summer series at First Congregational UCC, Brainerd. Preached August 8, 2010.

Text: Matthew 5:1-16

I've been thinking of the summer "lectionary." My confirmation verse was Matthew 5-- about "your little light shine"/bushel basket. I found it a childhood dilemma... one message to show your light (your gifts) to the world... yet (as Garrison Keillor so sagely nails it) "Don't call attention to yourself."

--Jan Kurtz

Yes, it is a classic dilemma of the well-behaved midwestern child. Someone once told me that a Scandinavian proverb goes, the tall stalks of wheat are cut back. So don't get above yourself. Nobody likes a show off.

Dana Carvey based his "Church Lady" persona on the ladies from his childhood church in Montana, who kept children like him in check, by responding to anything that smacked of self-satisfaction with, "Well. Isn't that special." We all have our inner Church Lady, I suppose.

But when I think of this verse, especially at this time of year, I think of the sunflowers that bloom in the fields of western Minnesota and the Dakotas, and in our gardens all over the Midwest. Great big brown faces edged with yellow petals, follow the sun all day as it courses through the sky. I ask you, can a sunflower stop being shiny? Heck no! Do we judge the sunflower for drawing attention to itself? Not if we are sane and well-adjusted!

If, like the sunflower, we keep our face turned toward the light of God, how can we keep from shining? When we spend time each day in the presence of God, when we make the effort to be mindful of all that we have received from God, the light shines. Unselfconsciously. You can't help it, you shine.

Still, it's probably a good idea to balance, "Let your light shine," with "beware of practicing your piety before strangers, in order to be seen by them." Don't serve at the soup kitchen for the photo op. Serve at the soup kitchen so that people can eat, and thank God (not you) for the bread.

Let your light shine! Let your salt season the bread! Let people see God's love reflected in you.


Be Not Afraid!

Texts: Psalm 111 (...the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom....) and Matthew 14:22-33 (Do not be afraid.)

Chuck Watson asked me to address his question in our Uncommon Lectionary series. His question is about fear, and others have asked me the same question. Why are we supposed to fear God? Both old and new testaments commend the "fear of the Lord." It seems to be at odds with the gospel of Jesus, who said, on many occasions, "Be not afraid."

To begin to address this question we must remember two things about language: One, the scriptures were not written in English (I hope this is not a great surprise to you). They were taken down in Hebrew and Greek and copied over and over, many times before the English language evolved. Two, English is a living language, and the meaning of words change over time. The Hebrew word which is translated "fear" might be better translated as reverence, respect, esteem, awe, worship. When the Hebrew Bible was first translated into English, about 500 years ago, the word "fear" meant all these things. The Brewsters, the first family among the Pilgrims, named one of their daughters "Fear." It was typical among the Puritans to name their children after virtues (they also had a son named "Love"), and Fear was considered a virtue, akin to reverence.

Reverence for the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Does that sound better? It follows from the first commandment, I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. You shall have no other gods before me. Know that God is God, and nothing else is-- that is the beginning of wisdom.

Fear, and I'm talking about fear as we use the word today, fear is a natural, normal reaction to danger. If we didn't have the fear response we might not have the sense to get out of harm's way. But persistent, unreasonable fear can itself become a poison. If we live in fear of someone or something, we give that person or thing power over us. In other words, we come to revere, or stand in awe of, the object of our fear. To fear something other than God is to come very close to idolatry.

Jesus came preaching "do not be afraid, little flock," do not worry about what you will eat or what you will wear, do not fear. To those who approached him in fear and trembling Jesus said, Do not be afraid.

To the church in every age and to us, Jesus says, as he said to his disciples in the story, "Do not be afraid."

The early church, the people to whom these gospel stories were first told, had much to be anxious and troubled about. Following the Way of the crucified and risen Jesus meant giving up ties to their families, their synagogues, even giving up their homes sometimes, to become part of something new and unknown. The early church was much like a boat on uncharted waters. In fact, in early Christian art, as seen in the catacombs and caves that were the early Christians' refuge, the boat was a symbol of the church. And it must have felt to them, at various times, like a boat on stormy seas.

Long-term unemployment, job insecurity, volatile financial markets which make a peak at our previously secure retirement funds feel like a trip to the casino... yes there is much to make us anxious and troubled. Glaciers evaporating, ice caps softening, oil plumes persisting in the gulf, we wonder what sort of a world we will be leaving to our grandchildren.

Here we are on this gospel ship, with our leaky roof, in the storm. And along comes Jesus, saying, Courage! Take heart! It is I! Do not be afraid!

He even calls Peter to come and walk with him on the water, in the storm. And Peter courageously steps out of the boat, and walks toward Jesus. In a moment, Peter looses focus, he lets the storm and the wind overwhelm him, and begins to sink. Even then, Jesus reaches out and lifts him up, and brings him back to the boat. And with Jesus in the boat, all is calm.

In what way is Jesus calling us to step out of our boat? In what way is Jesus calling us to leave the relative safety of a lifeboat in a storm, and step out into the storm itself?

When we take that step, how will we keep our eyes upon the one who keeps us above the waves?

How can we make room in the boat, to save others who are sinking?

Let us contemplate these questions, as we consider what the spirit is saying to the church.

(Preached Sunday, August 22, 2010)

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Money, Money, Money:

It's a rich man's world. Or is it? Some thoughts on the theme for Sunday worship, in our uncommon lectionary season.

"For the Uncommon Lectionary, will you read the story of Jesus going to the temple and seeing the poor widow put her tiny coin into the offering box, and pointing out to the arrogant rich guys that she has given more than they have. This was one of my favoirtes when mother read to me from Hurlbut's Stories from the Bible." --Doris A.

"Luke 16 Puzzling!" -- Anonymous

Jesus blessed the state of poverty and the cursed the state of wealth. Jesus drew attention to the generosity of the poor and ridiculed the self-importance of the wealthy. And the wealthy ridiculed him right back.


Thursday, August 5, 2010

Let Your Light Shine!


I've been thinking of the summer "lectionary." My confirmation verse was Matthew 5-- about "your little light shine"/bushel basket. I found it a childhood dilemma... one message to show your light (your gifts) to the world... yet (as Garrison Keillor so sagely nails it) "Don't call attention to yourself." --Jan K

I ask you, can a sunflower stop being shiny? Heck no! Do we judge the sunflower for drawing attention to itself? Not if we are sane and well-adjusted!

Still, it's probably a good idea to balance, "Let your light shine," with "beware of practicing your piety before strangers, in order to be seen by them." Don't serve at the soup kitchen for the photo op. Serve at the soup kitchen so that people can eat, and thank God (not you) for the bread.

A family acquaintance belongs to a church that sends missionaries to the world's poorest people, and when they go they bring no food for the hungry, no medicine for the sick, they build no shelters for the homeless. They tell the people that if they believed in Jesus, they would have all these things. Now, that's just messed up. But here is the theology behind it: the members of this church are so afraid of "works righteousness" that they refuse to do any work at all, lest God think they are trying to buy their way to heaven.

Let your light shine! Let your salt season the bread! Let people see God's love reflected in you!


Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Sisterly Love: Martha and Mary

Proverbs 31:10-31; Luke 10:38-42

The story of Martha and Mary was submitted by Marcia F., who, as most of you would guess, identifies with Martha. But she is not the only one. When the story comes up at prayer circle, for example, a number of women whom I admire get really ticked off at Jesus, for being so unkind to Martha. I am surprised at the women who get ticked off by this story. I strongly suspect them of being older sisters in their families of origin. I, being the younger sister, identify with Mary, so I really like this story. It makes me feel good and vindicated.

But not everyone loves this story, which is sad, because, sisters, we don't have many stories in the Bible about us. There aren't many biblical characters with whom we can identify like we can identify with Martha and Mary. Of all the people named in the Bible, the overwhelming majority are male. And, when a female character makes an appearance, she is rarely named-- usually she is identified as the wife of or the concubine of or the mother of or the sister of some guy. But here is Martha, and Mary, two women who are defined by their relationship not to some guy but to each other!

So, Sisters, why do we have a problem with this story? Perhaps we over identify, over personalize it. Maybe because we have so few biblical women with whom to identify, or maybe it is a gender-specific characteristic. Men don't seem to do this-- men don't get bent out of shape because Jesus was mean to Peter when he rebuked him.

In a video entitled "How to Irritate People," comic actor John Cleese related a story about his fellow Python Graham Chapman, who conspired with Cleese to demonstrate gender difference at a party they were attending. As if speaking to Cleese, Chapman said, very loudly, "The problem with women is they take everything personally." Immediately, three women turned on him and said, "Well I don't."

Perhaps we do. So Martha, I want to tell you, that this story, it's not about you. Don't take it personally. And Mary, it's not about you either (I say to myself). So stop feeling so smug and self-satisfied.

There is much to be commended in both women. Martha is the epitome of the wise and capable woman of the Proverb, with one exception-- she doesn't seem to be anyone's wife. But she is a caretaker, a capable woman, head of her household. Her sister Mary is behaving badly. Mary is sitting where she does not belong, at the rabbi's feet. That is the place for the honored student; if the disciples were an orchestra Mary would be sitting in the first chair, violin section, so to speak. Mary is taking a place that is not hers to take. In politest terms, Mary is being inappropriate, presumptuous. In less polite terms, Mary's behavior is scandalous. Some people might think she's acting like some sort of floozy.

Martha, as the head of her household is duty-bound to protect her sister and preserve the honor of the house. Martha expects Jesus to help her, but to everyone's surprise, Jesus does something completely different. Jesus turns the world upside down, again.

He rebuked Martha. The same way he rebuked his disciples for sending the children away, and found an opportunity for teaching a whole new way to look at the world. It is an amazing, liberating, new teaching.

Remember the story of Jesus and the children? They (Who were they? Might they be women, mothers perhaps?) were bringing children to Jesus that Jesus might bless them, but when the disciples saw it, they ordered them to stop. An important rabbi like Jesus doesn't have time to waste on little children. But when Jesus saw what was going on, he rebuked the disciples, and said to them, "Let the little children come to me!" They are first in the kingdom of God.

How about that. Women and children are part of God's new world, and so are the blind, and the lame, and the demon-possessed, the Samaritans, the alien and the sojourner in the land. The story of Martha and Mary is one gospel story among many that says to the church, that whatever we do, if we do not include the people on the fringe, then we are not complete.

We are the church. We are Mary and Martha, and Peter and Andrew, and we are the Gerasene demoniac, the leader of the synagogue, and the Syro-Phonecian woman. We are all of these. We need to be all of these together.

God knows the church needs Martha. But sometimes we are, like Martha, anxious and troubled about things that really are not all that important, when it comes right down to it. We are accustomed to providing certain programs and services as a congregation, but, unless we spend some time with Mary, at the feet of Jesus, we will not have the energy to do the many good things that we can do. We need to balance the "doing" of Martha with the "being" of Mary.

The annual leadership retreat is usually very "Martha." We do budgets and calendar and planning and reviewing. So this August, on the 14th, when we get together for our leadership retreat, we will spend some time being Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening.

Thanks be to God for Martha, and Mary, and for what the Spirit is saying to the church. Amen.

Responding to a Fundamentalist

An acquaintance of mine, who is a fundamentalist, sent me the following note after the publication of "Do We Always Have to Win?"
I read with interest your article in the Dispatch dated Friday July 30, 2010. In fact I was so interested in what you said that I couldn't go to sleep last night without reading it again. Would you please answer these questions for me?
1. Do you believe that the Bible is really the Word of God?
2. Is the Bible only a "collection of stories" or actual happenings?
3. What was the purpose of Christ's death on the cross?
4. Do you truly believe He was not a winner?
I look forward to your answer.
Here is my response. I hope it was both honest and kind.

Thank you for reading my article and thoughtfully responding. As for your questions: 1 and 2 I think you can quite clearly understand from reading the article. This is consistent with biblical scholarship. The scriptures are our theological inheritance from generations past. They require thoughtful interpretation, critical study, an understanding of the culture out of which they arose and the language in which they were told and written. This is consistent with 2,000 years of orthodox, catholic, and protestant teaching. "Biblical inerrancy" is a 20th century fundamentalist concept, with which I disagree.
3. What was the purpose of Christ's life? That is the more important question.
4. Was Jesus a winner? It's a question, not a statement. Jesus was handily defeated by
Barabbas in a popular election. He was not a wealthy man. His followers did not constitute the A-crowd. He was betrayed, arrested and executed as a criminal insurrectionist. By all that constitutes "a winner" in ancient or modern culture, was he a winner? In order to answer yes, he was a winner, how would we define winner?
Neither you nor I can "win" any disagreement we have about the faith. I do not expect to win you over. If your faith works for you, then, good for you. Your interpretation of the faith does not fit my understanding of the world, the church, the scritptures, or the
life of Christ. I will not try to make you a mainline protestant; and I hope you will not try to make me a fundamentalist.
Winning, however, is not what Christ taught. He taught love, and I trust that is
the way to the heart of God.
Sincerely,
Rev. Deborah G Celley