SERMONS & ART OF LAURA GENTRY

3-POINT EASTER SERMON

2011-04-25T08:03:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for Easter Sunday, Year A

April 24, 2011

Pastor Laura Gentry

Matthew 28:1-10

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Risen Lord, Jesus Christ.

In real estate, they say there are 3 rules to remember. These 3 things will determine whether the piece of property is going to sell easily or not. And the three rules are: location, location, location. It matters most where a piece of property is located. Even if it’s old and crumbling down or has out-of-date appliances, it will sell if it is in a desirable location. That’s what it’s all about. Do people want to live there? And conversely, you can have a beautiful property with everything perfect but if it isn’t in a good location, it won’t sell very well. Indeed, it's all about location, location, location.

And today, as you might have noticed, it is Easter Sunday. This is the highest, holy day of the church year and so I’d like to preach something really inspiring so you’ll be able to understand and appreciate this incredible day. In order to do so, I’m going to preach an old-fashioned 3-point sermon. That’s the traditional model of preaching, by the way. The pastor is supposed to fit every important scriptural matter into 3, easy-to-remember points. That way, the congregation will be able to hear it, go home and say: “Yes, I can still remember the 3 points of the sermon.” And then rattle them off to one another. Now typically, I don’t use this form because I usually have more to say than can be fit into 3 points.

But today—because it’s Easter—I’m sticking with the 3 points. I’ve got to tell you about the Easter message in a way you can remember. Here are the 3 points I’ve come up with after great contemplation on the Gospel text. Are you ready? There may be a pop quiz later in the service so you might want to take notes. They are: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

Each of these points is important so I’m going to start with the first one. The story begins on that first Easter morning. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary make their way to the tomb of Jesus. What do they expect to find? I suppose they expect what you would expect if you went to visit the grave of a friend: the grave would look like a grave. It would be undisturbed. Perhaps there might be flowers there, but generally things at graves look pretty much the same whenever you go to visit them. You don’t expect your friend to be risen!

And yet that’s exactly what the Marys encounter! It’s highly dramatic in Matthew’s telling of the story. There’s a great earthquake, which shakes up their perspective and probably everything else in the surrounding area. And then an angel of the Lord descends from heaven before their eyes, and with superhero strength, rolls back the stone of the grave and sits on it. There he looks at them—dazzling like a lightning bolt!

Can you imagine how shocking it would be for these two women to witness all this? It’s incomprehensible, really. The guards behavior tells you how disarming it is. They panic so much they pass out—but the women, the women keep it together (perhaps that's why Jesus appears first to women in all 4 of the gospels). The angel, then, speaks to them and says: “Do not be afraid; for I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has been raised from the dead, as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.” So that brings me to the first point of my sermon: He is risen!

They have come to the place of death and found life! This is a game-changer for Mary and Mary. The fact that Jesus is risen completely changes their world. Not even death could defeat their Lord. He is risen. Though they are still afraid and unsure about what this means for them, they know that nothing will ever be the same.

Then, the angel commands them to go quickly and tell the disciples that Christ is risen. He explains that Jesus is going ahead of them to Galilee. And so they respond immediately—leaving the tomb, it says, with fear and great joy as they run to meet the disciples. Obviously, it is very emotional for them. It’s like when you cry and laugh at the same time. As humans, we can have a complicated mix of emotions. The women are afraid because this news is so new and so riveting, but they are filled with great joy at the same time.

Suddenly, Jesus meets them on the road and says “Greetings!” They are so elated that they come right up to him, take a hold of his feet—confirming that he is, indeed, risen bodily—and worship him. This brings me to my second point: He is risen. Not only have the women witnessed the empty tomb, the earthquake and the stone being rolled away by an angel, but now they have experienced the risen Jesus themselves. For them, it is completely clear that Jesus is risen.

Then he says to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.” Go and tell, he commands them. Jesus wants everyone to know that he is risen. Death has been defeated for all who will believe. Resurrection is not just for Jesus, but for every one of us, which brings me to my third point: He is risen!

So the women go and tell and those they tell go and tell and those that they tell go and tell. And in this way, the message of Christ’s resurrection is passed down all the way through the generations to you and me today. We have been given the good news of all 3 of these important points: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

What does it mean for us? I mean, can we comprehend even one of these points? The fact that Christ is risen may seem confusing, unbelievable, and even irrelevant. But as Christians, we understand that in the resurrection, God turned everything around. Jesus was put to death but God said a resounding “NO!” to death by raising him. Sin and death were defeated and everlasting life was made possible for all who believe in him.

So yes, because he is risen, you and I have the assurance of heaven. That’s all well and good, you say, but what about the problems I'm facing right now? I need Jesus' help in this very moment. What does the resurrected life look like?

Well, let's take a look. For example, you say: what about the price of gasoline? If it hits $4 a gallon, I won't be able to afford to go anywhere. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen! The price of gas is important, but not nearly as important as the new life of Jesus within you. That's the thing that matters most. Everything else is secondary and you can trust that God will get you through it.

But what about that grief you’re facing? You say: This is the first Easter without my husband. I didn’t think grieving him would be so hard. Sometimes I wonder if I can even go without him. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen! Because of your faith in Jesus, you know you'll be reunited with your deceased loved ones. This separation, which hurts so much, is only temporary. Because he is risen, you are not without hope and healing.

Then there’s the economy. It’s so unstable, you say, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my job. I can’t imagine how devastated my family would be if I lost it. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

There’s also health or lack thereof to think about. I know I’m failing, you say. I’m so afraid I’ll end up being a burden to my kids but I don’t think I can live alone much longer. And your response to this should be: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

Just as location makes all the difference in real estate, the fact that Christ is risen makes all the difference in our lives. I am not just talking about the hereafter. Easter starts now. Resurrection matters right in the midst of our troubled lives. Everything that you and I face—whether it’s mundane or catastrophic is resurrected with Christ. That means, God is with us—giving us new life to face whatever we have to face with confidence. If your location is with Christ, then nothing is impossible. You can hold your head high in faith and proclaim: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

The angel commanded the Marys to go and tell the good news. May we be filled with their joyful enthusiasm and go and tell it too. And I think we can cover all 3 points of the resurrection: He is risen! He is risen! He is risen!

Amen!

LAUGHING WITH LAZARUS

2011-04-10T14:38:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for the 5th Sunday in Lent, Year A

John 11:1-45

You know how in a race, runners often get a second wind and sprint to the finish line? Well, that’s what we’re doing liturgically. Here we are, just about to the end of our Lenten season with Holy Week starting next Sunday and suddenly, it’s more Lenten than it’s ever been. Though we’ve got daffodils and crocuses blooming outside, spring is not in today’s readings—at least not at the beginning of them. They start with death.

In our first reading, we’ve got dry bones and not just one set of them—a whole valley of dry bones occupy Ezekiel’s vision. These bodies are so long dead that there’s no more rotting flesh, they’re just dusty bones. The people of the exile feel very much like these long-forgotten valley of bones. “Our hope is lost!” they cry out. “We are cut off completely!” Death and hopelessness.

Even today’s Psalm, 130, comes from a place of sadness. It is often read at funerals. “Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD. Lord, hear my voice!”

And the gospel lesson centers around the death of Lazarus who has now been dead four days. A rotting corpse, he is buried in the tomb. Like the exiles, it seems clear that hope is gone for those who love him.

These themes of death and hopelessness are all too familiar to us. This has been a season of death with international news of natural disaster in Japan to war in Libya and increasing violence in Afghanistan. Death is always in the headlines. It’s touched and reshaped our lives too. We know all to well the pain of losing a loved one to death. Mortality is not just a theory—it is a harsh reality for us. Smelly corpses, dried up bones, prayers of anguish and desperation—these scriptures cry out the hardship of our own lives. They remind us or our own difficult Lenten journey.

So Jesus continues his Lenten journey by going to see his friend Lazarus. He’d gotten word that his old pal was sick, but for some unknown reason, he dilly dallies for two more days before making his way to their house—just a couple of miles outside of Jerusalem. It seems almost careless of him to be so tardy. Understandably, when Jesus finally does arrive, they seem a bit upset with him. Many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about the death of their brother. You cannot imagine this scene without the sound of weeping. Not only would the sisters be weeping—along with the friends who have come—but there would also be the presence of professional mourners. In Jesus’ day, the bereaved would hire people whose job it was to give dramatic expression to their grief. Their theatrical and ritualistic cries would bring everyone to emotional catharsis. Needless to say, Jesus is walking into a house of death and deep sadness.

Jesus taps into this emotional energy and takes it one himself. It says that he becomes “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” (John 11:33). In the original Greek language, this description is even more visceral. It says Jesus snorted like a horse. English translations can’t quite seem to capture the depth of Jesus’ pain. But as he makes his way through the crowd of mourners, Jesus is grieving openly and he seems shaken to the core.

It does seem odd that Jesus would react this way, especially since this story comes from the Gospel of John. In this book, Jesus is always in control. He knows ahead of time that Lazarus would be dead—it’s not like he’s surprised to find him entombed. And Jesus always knows the end of the story, so he has full knowledge that death only has a temporary hold on Lazarus and that he will very shortly call him out of the grave so there’ll be a “happily ever after,” fairy-tale-type ending. And as for all those weeping mourners—I’m sure Jesus knows they are for hire so they wouldn’t upset him. Why, then? Why is Jesus so upset?

As we have made our way through John’s Gospel this Lent, we’ve seen Jesus reveal himself to be many incredible things including God’s Word, bread, living water and light. In this story, we see that he is even more than these. He is himself the “the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). As the resurrection, he has come to put an end to death. We come to realize in this story that Jesus doesn’t much like death. The two of them go together about as well as oil and water. Jesus detests death because he is the opposite of it. Just as we hate death, Jesus hates it. Here in the context of his dear friendship with Lazarus, Jesus’ passion is stirred. He snorts like a horse and he weeps openly. We can picture the tears streaming down his face as he faces down death. He can’t even stand the fact that it has temporary power over his friend. And so he demands the stone be rolled away and he calls Lazarus forth—as he calls us forth—from death to life.

The playwright Eugene O’Neill wrote a fictional account of what happened to Lazarus after this dramatic resurrection. I mean, the bible doesn’t tell us. But he must have been different after that. Four days in the tomb and then his death is reversed. O’Neill’s conclusion is that Lazarus laughed. He experienced death and found out—first-hand—that it has no sting. From then on, he is so free of fear that he constantly laughs. The chorus sings of him:

Lazarus laughs!

Our hearts grow happy!

Laughter like music!

The wind laughs!

The sea laughs!

Spring laughs from the earth!

Summer laughs in the air!

Lazarus laughs!

Lazarus himself declares to the confused on-lookers: “Laugh! Laugh with me! Death is dead! Fear is no more! There is only life! There is only laughter!”

This dramatic story in John’s gospel foreshadows, rather dramatically, Jesus’ own death, burial in a cave tomb, and subsequent resurrection. All of the scriptures for today point us to Easter. The psalmist finds hope in God, the the prophet Ezekiel’s vision ends with the resurrection of the whole valley of dry bones. The Spirit of God comes upon them and they grow flesh and are brought back to life—a vast army that stand up on their feet!

So yes, there’s no denying this Lenten journey is leading toward death. There are more weeping women to come, a body to bury, a stone to roll before the tomb. But death will not have the last word. On this Sunday when the scriptures stink of death, we still acknowledge the “little Easter” that each and every Sunday is. They point us to the great victory of the Resurrection. Soon another stone will be rolled away and, snorting at death, the one who is the resurrection and the life will himself be resurrected. And because he is our savior, his resurrection will be our own.

So let us laugh with Lazarus. Even as we sprint on into Holy Week—a somber time in which we must hear again the story of our Lord’s death. We know that death is dead. Jesus snubbed death and gave us victory over it. Death is dead! There is no more fear! There is only life! There is only laughter! Amen.

LET THE SPIRIT BLOW WHERE IT CHOOSES

2011-03-21T12:07:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for Second Sunday in Lent

March 20, 2011

Pastor Laura Gentry

John 3:1-17

In our Gospel text for today, we get to overhear a conversation between Jesus and a rabbi called Nicodemus. It’s not a very long conversation, but like everything in John’s gospel, it is layered with meaning. So let’s dive in and see what we can find that will nourish us on our 40 day Lenten journey.

Nicodemus comes to Jesus as night. Why at night? Theologians like to puzzle over details like this. Maybe he was afraid his fellow rabbis would see him so he wanted to sneak to Jesus under the cover of darkness. Or perhaps he was a really studious man who studied all the time—you know, like a college student who stays up all night reading. Then again, John’s gospel has a lot of symbolism with light and dark so this may be a way of illustrating that Jesus’ teachings are the light that illuminates the darkness of the religious establishment. He offers them enlightenment.

In any case, Nicodemus shows up and tells Jesus that he knows he’s from God because of all the signs he’s been performing. Nicodemus is not very humble but he’s at least recognizing Jesus as a teacher on par with himself.

Then Jesus then offers him the vision of God's kingdom. He says “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above."

Now this is a powerful statement, but it confuses Nicodemus. He takes it quite literally. He wonders how in the world a person could enter his mother’s womb to be born again. We don’t even want to consider the logistics of that! But before we go thinking Nicodemus is a dense character, we have to realize that he’s a Jewish teacher and this whole idea of being “born from above” or “born again,” which is another way to translate it, is a foreign concept. This rebirth idea is a Greek, not a Jewish one.

Yet, Jesus, this young Jewish teacher from Nazareth—the one whom they believe had come from God—tells him he must be born again, born from above, born anew. Of course, this kind of language isn’t about literally redoing natural childbirth, but it is about God literally redoing our lives, literally transforming us.

You see, Jesus was telling Nicodemus that just being religious wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to for him just study and follow the law—though he was probably a great leader. The Kingdom of God is not attainable on our human terms. It is God’s grace through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, not our good behavior, that makes entering the Kingdom possible. Being “born again” is not amending of a part of our lives, but renewal of the whole nature, a total renewing that only God can initiate.

But how does the Spirit do so? Jesus explained this to Nicodemus by saying, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” This metaphor of wind is a powerful one. Consider the power of strong winds: windmills move, cars swerve on the road, huge trees can be uprooted, power lines thrown downed, rain gutters bent out of shape or in the case of a tornado, whole towns leveled—winds can suddenly reshape the whole landscape. You cannot see the wind, but you can feel it, and you can see all the powerful changes that the force of the wind brings. To everyone but meteorologists, the wind seems very mysterious—the way it erratically comes and goes with great force, blowing as it chooses. You just can’t control it. And Jesus says, “So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

The author Annie Dillard thinks that churches should be required to issue worshippers with crash helmets, life preservers and seat belts, just in case God shows up. God’s that powerful, you know. That’s what Jesus is saying here. The Spirit blows where it pleases and it whisks you off on it’s wings even if you’re not ready.

How does that happen for you and me? We can get pretty discouraged with ourselves. It reminds me of a Peanuts cartoon in which Charlie Brown shows up at Lucy’s therapy booth and she says: “Discouraged again, eh, Charlie Brown? You know what your whole trouble is? The whole trouble with you is that you're you!"

Charlie looks at her in great earnest and asks, "Well, what in the world can I do about that?"

Lucy answers, "I don't pretend to be able to give advice...I merely point out the trouble!"

Yes, we can feel Charlie Brown, tired of being ourselves. We may be life-long church-goers and yet we’re still not where we want to be spiritually. We’re still not loving or patient enough. We know that our sins encumber us in so many ways.

Nevertheless, Jesus' revelation is clear. We are transformed by God's spirit. We are transformed and given the gift of a new life. We have the opportunity to start again—to be different, act different, live in community in a different manner.

When Nicodemus began to allow himself to be born of the wind, things changed for him, too. In the chapters which follow, we read that Nicodemus, later spoke up for Jesus, publicly questioning those in authority who would judge Jesus. Then after Jesus' death on the cross when all the disciples had fled, Joseph of Arimethea and Nicodemus came forward to prepare Jesus' body for burial. Nicodemus was no longer intimidated or afraid. Nicodemus had come to realize that he was born from above not by his own doing but by the love of God who birthed him anew and gave him a life of boldness.

The theologian Bruce Epperly states that “if we affirm that God is moving through our lives, filling us with the divine presence even when we are least aware of it, then we can learn to open our lives to be more open to these moments of divine inspiration.”

Are we open to God’s inspiration? It’s like the little fish who asked his mother "Where is the ocean?" She laughed and said "It's all around you!" So it is with the Spirit of God. It’s all around you! Do you notice? Do you let it transform you? Because the Spirit blows where it pleases and it wants to change you.

We always want to place limitations on God, though. In his autobiography Saint Augustine explained how in his early life, he really didn’t want God transforming him. He prayed to God: "Give me chastity and continence, but not just now." Not just now. Have we been saying that to God?

Paul Tillich once wrote: "Only the fulfillment of what we really are can give us joy.” The fulfillment of what we really are. That’s where true joy is to be found. And that’s exactly what the Spirit aims to do.

The prophet Ezekiel spoke God’s word to the people in ancient times. He said: “A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my spirit within you.” (Ezekiel 36:25-27)

Yes, that is what God has always been doing. Our salvation is not about our action, but about God’s. We have been given a savior and we’ve even been given the faith with which to believe him. God’s Spirit is constantly working to put a new heart in us, to put a new spirit in us, so we can be the fulfillment of who we really are. That’s what it means to be born again.

As we proceed on our Lenten journey, may we intentionally open ourselves to God’s all-powerful Spirit. Let the wind of the Spirit blow where it pleases and transform us entirely. We need a new heart. So let’s fling open our hearts so the spirit may blow where it chooses.

As Dag Hammarskjold said, "For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes."

GRACE ABOUNDS

2011-03-13T14:30:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for First Sunday in Lent

March 13, 2011

Pastor Laura Gentry

Romans 5:12-21

There’s a lot of talk about sin in our texts for today. Genesis tells us how our ancestors, Adam and Eve, chose the way of sin and death instead of the joy that was theirs in the garden. The Psalm cries out in penitence from a state of despair and sin. Paul talks at length about the nature of sin and in the Gospel, we hear that familiar story of Jesus being tempted by the devil himself to fall into a state of sin.

But what is sin anyway? We use this word so much that perhaps it is difficult for us to really understand it. I mean, it’s a strange word—a churchy word. And in our modern society, it’s been shunned. Some churches have done away with the confession of sin part of the liturgy—fearing that the whole talk of sin might be too much of a downer. Others have tried to re-brand sin with another word to help people better understand it. Still, the word hasn’t gone out of use because it really is the most accurate word to describe, well, sin.

We tend to think of sin as an act—something bad that we do or some particular character weakness that we have. Just this week, my 8 year old niece, Erin, came running into her mother’s room, wracked with a metaphysical dread. “I’m so afraid!” she said as she threw herself into her mom’s lap.

“It’s ten o’clock. You’re supposed to be asleep. What are you afraid of?” my sister patiently asked.

“I am afraid I’m not going to heaven. I sin so much—I am always pinching and hitting my brother and I really want to stop but I can’t! I just do it all the time.”

And this is a very child-like view of sin as a naughty act. Advertisers tend to play upon this childish understanding that many adults still hold. How often have you seen an ad presenting some sugar treat as “sinful” or “tempting”?

But sin in the biblical sense, is not defined like than that. It doesn’t have to do with how many snack treats you have.

I think the best clue we can get as to the meaning of this word is that a substitute word for it is “separation.” Separation is an aspect of the experience of everyone. To be in the state of sin is to be in the state of separation. And our separation is three-part: there is the separation from our own selves, separation from our fellow human beings, and separation from God—our very ground of being.

This separation our heritage. That’s what the story from Genesis tells us. In our hearts, we know this. We “get” the depth of our separation. We feel our estrangement and this causes us to suffer. Sadly, we know that our separation isn’t a one time event—it is our whole reality. Not only that, but we understand that this separateness is something we participate in, that we feed into. We do not fully love ourselves, we do not fully love our neighbors and we certainly do not fully love God. This gives us a growing sense of guilt. This is our existence, from birth to death. The bible tells us that even in our mother’s womb, we were separate, we were sinners. Indeed, sin is our existence. Existence is separation! Before sin is an act, it is a state.

As Saint Paul explains in our second lesson for today, we can say the same things about grace. For sin and grace are bound to each other. We do not even have a knowledge of sin unless we have already experienced the unity of life, which is grace. And conversely, we could not grasp the meaning of grace without having experienced the separation of life, which is sin. Grace, however, seems just as difficult to describe as sin.

What is grace? We like the word and the idea. We like the hymn “Amazing Grace” but do we really know what grace means? It has always been an enduring name for a baby girl. In fact, in 2010 it still ranked 29 in the most popular girl names. So what is grace? For some people, grace is the willingness of a divine king to forgive over and again the foolishness of his subjects. This is not exactly grace. For other people, grace is about utilizing the gifts we have so that we can be in service to society. But grace is more than gifts. In grace something is overcome; grace occurs in spite of something; grace occurs in spite of separation and estrangement. Grace is the reunion of life with life. Grace is the acceptance of that which is rejected. Grace transforms guilt into confidence and courage. There is something triumphant about grace. In spite of the abounding of sin—grace abounds much more.

That’s what my sister explained to her daughter, who was so caught up in the fear of her own sin. She said, yes, we do sin and it is even part of who we are. We make choices that God doesn’t like. We could never earn our place in heaven. We are sinners. But God knew that and wanted to save us anyway so that’s why Jesus came. He showed us the way to live and he went to the cross for us so that we would no longer be separated from God. This made Erin so happy that she woke her little brother up and apologized to him. Dazed and confused, his hair sticking up, Michael sat quietly. Then, he offered her forgiveness. The two of them hugged. There, in the dim light of the child’s bedroom, my sister witnessed the miracle of grace. Just as sin is separation, grace is reunion. It reunites us with ourselves, with our brothers and sisters and with God.

So what does this mean for us today, in the midst of our Lenten journey? We know full well our sinful nature—our disgust for our own selves, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure. We often feel our own selves are intolerable. We realize that the longed-for perfection of our lives isn’t here yet. Despair over this threatens to take away our joy.

And in the midst of our sin, a light breaks in. The gospel message sings to our longing ears, saying "You are accepted—accepted by God. Yes, accepted! This is a pure gift. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!"

This is the experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no change in behavior is needed, nothing but acceptance.

In the light of this grace we perceive the power of grace in our relation to others and to ourselves. We experience the grace of being able to look frankly into the eyes of another, the miraculous grace of reunion. We experience the grace of being able to accept the life of another, even if it be hostile and harmful to us, for, through grace, we know that it belongs to the same God to which we belong, and by which we have been accepted. We experience the grace which is able to overcome the many barriers people place between themselves. Grace can truly reunite us with those to whom we belong.

How wonderful are these moments where we feel the full reality of God’s grace! For it is such moments that make us love our life—that make us accept ourselves, not because we’ve done anything incredible, but because we’ve been accepted by an incredible God. Grace empowers us to say "yes" to ourselves. And when we do, peace enters into us and makes us whole. Then we are reunited with ourselves and all of life and we know for sure that grace has come upon us and yes, it abounds.

"Sin" and "grace" are strange words; but they are not strange things. We find them whenever we look into ourselves with searching eyes and longing hearts. They determine our life. They abound within us and in all of life. May grace more abound within us!

© 2011 Laura E. Gentry

SPRING CLEANING

2011-03-09T14:47:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for Ash Wednesday

March 9, 2011

Pastor Laura Gentry

Isaiah 58:1-12

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I admit it: my basement is a mess. In England, they have an expression for a messy place. They say: “It’s a bit of a bomb site.” Yep, that would be my basement. Now the upstairs, living spaces are quite neat and some have been completely reorganized. But since I don’t live in the basement, it has become a dumping ground for all kinds of old stuff. And with my dad is emptying his house for sale, I’ve acquired even more stuff than ever. I know that I have to clean it. Why? Because it’s holding me back. I can’t find anything down there anymore. It’s just a source of stress.

Tonight we begin the season of Lent. Here in the church, we try to describe this ancient liturgical season in all kinds of ways. Lent, we are told, is a time of sacrifice for Jesus—to give something up, like ice cream or donuts. Lent, we are also told, is time of preparation for Holy Week and Easter. It is a time of self-denial, repentance and prayer. It’s a somber time when we don’t even get to sing “hallelujah!” in worship. And while all of this true, I think it confuses the modern believer.

What I find to be the most helpful explanation of Lent is that it is a spiritual spring cleaning. Just like my basement needs a lot of sorting and emptying, so does my soul.

You see, Lent is not supposed to be a downer time. Maybe you were taught that as a kid. But believe me, it’s not. Really. The whole 40 day tradition came from the early converts who would prepare themselves for Baptism on the vigil of Easter. In order to get ready, they would engage in repentance practices, like dumping a bucket of ashes over their heads. And they’d just keep doing it until they’d look like a walking dust cloud. Think of Pigpen from Peanuts and you get the picture.

That’s why we’ll impose ashes on your forehead tonight—it’s in keeping with that early repentance ritual. Yes, the ashes represent our mortality. When you are imposed with the ashes you’ll hear the familiar words: “remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” And then you’ll get to spend the rest of the evening with a big messy cross on your head.

But what I think we often miss is that the ashes symbolized something else in the ancient church: cleansing. Before they had soap and body wash and fancy, good-smelling lotions like we have today, people used ash to wash themselves. Yes, ashes are about cleansing. They are about letting go of what keeps us from God—cleansing that away entirely so that we can turn around and run back into the loving arms of God.

No, this is not a sad season. In fact, I would argue it has the potential to be the most joyful time of all. We all need to clean our spiritual basements. All of those resentments and grudges and free floating anger hanging around inside us is no good. We know this. God knows this. But now’s our chance to really let it go—to draw nearer to God so that we can be cleansed and made new.

This Ash Wednesday, I’m letting go of everything that keeps me from rejoicing in this life. How about you? I mean, this life is such an incredible gift. When’s the last time you really rejoiced in it? Children get this. But sometimes we adults miss it.

I painted a mural on the retaining wall in my back yard a few years ago. When my sister came to see it with her children, we walked through the yard together. I explained all of the bright and colorful images and symbols. Kathy and I were engaged in the whole intellectual discussion of it. Then, I looked down and noticed her son—who was probably about 3 at the time—and he was taking in the beauty of this gigantic painting with his whole body. How could I tell? Because he had broken into dance, like they do in musicals. There he was, oblivious to our adult conversation, whirling and wiggling—entirely immersed in the wonder of it. Kathy and I laughed with joy to see his childish energy. I said, “Ah, if we all had the capacity to dance at the sight of beauty!”

Well, my friends, God is in this place and our whole world is beautiful and full of grace. Do we perceive it? Can we take it in—casting aside our worries and fears enough to rejoice?

In the reading we heard from Isaiah tonight, the prophet calls us to be in this place of rejoicing over the abundance of the Lord so that we can share our bread with the hungry, invite the homeless into our homes, and give the naked something to wear. Then, he says, our will your light break forth like the dawn and our healing shall spring up speedily. When we joyfully care for our brothers and sisters, our light will rise and God will satisfy the parched places of our lives.

I don’t know about you, but I get what he means by parched places. It’s painful to have parched places where hope feels dried up and situations seem impossible no matter how hard you try. Well, parched places: be gone! Isaiah says that God will change all of that. We will be like a watered garden, like a spring of water whose waters never fail! Incredible.

Now who can't find time for that? Lent is not a demand to squeeze a little more time into an already overly busy life or give up some category of junk food. It’s much more important than that. This is an invitation to get our lives together, to do that spiritual spring cleaning we know we need. This is a chance for true healing. This is an opportunity to re-cultivate the childlike joy that is within us, so that we can feast upon the grace of God, share it generously and dance again at the sight of beauty.

So that’s exactly what I plan to do this year. That, and I might even get my basement cleaned as well.

SALT, LIGHT & PAPRIKA

2011-02-06T06:58:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for Epiphany 5A

Pastor Laura Gentry

Matthew 5:13-20

I admit it. I used to hate paprika. I know, I know, it's hard to believe. But it’s true. I just couldn’t see the use for it. I mean, it’s pretty—especially if you sprinkle it on a nice little deviled egg—but if it doesn’t do anything for the flavor of it, what’s the point?

Once, when I was on a back country Boundary Waters trip with my sister and some friends, I reached into the food pack, which was prepared by the professional outfitters from whom we’d rented our canoes, and what did I find in the spice pack? Paprika! Paprika? Seriously? You never want to carry an extra ounce of weight when you go into the Boundary Waters. You have to portage—sometimes long distances with your packs and canoes—so you only want to bring what you absolutely need. And, in my opinion, paprika was a total non-necessity. Why in the world did they pack this for us?! I ranted and raved about it so much on that trip that everyone else ate it excessively just to torment me, saying things like: "Wow this paprika tastes terrifically good on pancakes, Laura. You are really missing out!" So in response, I jokingly formed an organization I called WAP—Women Against Paprika.

Well, it took me many years, but have changed my mind about paprika. Turns out, I was only tasting the really cheap, really old paprika. It had such a faint flavor that I didn’t even consider it a spice. When you buy good paprika and eat it before it gets old, however, it’s actually delicious. In fact, I recently bought some high-quality, smoked Spanish paprika and it has become one of my favorite spices.

You see, a good spice needs to make a difference. You should be able to put it on your food and taste an immediate change. It should bring out the flavor of your food. If not, why bother using it?

Jesus uses spice as one of his metaphors in the Sermon on the Mount, which we read in the Gospel of Matthew this morning. He climbs a mountain and sits down to teach his followers, which in ancient times meant that he was serious. He wants to engage his students. He, then goes on to give them a series of spiritual teachings. In fact, some scholars say that these things were not delivered as one sermon. Instead, they are a collection of the important things he preached frequently about the coming reign of God. You could think of it as his “greatest hits” sermon. Clearly, everything in it is important and so it serves us to take a closer look at what was written.

First, let’s look at the students gathered around Jesus on the mount. Like any good preacher, Jesus is delivering a message to his specific audience. So what were these people like? Well, this was a time of oppression by outsiders for Israel. It’d actually been a problem for them since the Exile 600 years earlier. They’d been wondering why God would let this happen to them. They weren’t sure how to handle their suffering. They were tired of being outsiders and desperately wanted to obtain political freedom so that they could preserve their religion and culture.

These people who have gathered around Jesus don’t know him as resurrected Savior as we do. For them, he is just one more voice in this debate about what to do politically. Yet, he is a challenging voice with much to say to them in the midst of their oppression.

In the “beattitudes” section of this sermon, which we heard last week, Jesus lifts up some fairly unlikely people – the poor in spirit, the meek and the merciful, those who mourn and those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted – and calls them blessed, which also means happy. He tells them that God’s reign is breaking in and they can be happy even in their present bleak circumstances, even in the midst of their oppression.

Then Jesus calls the people—and that includes you and me today—two things: "the salt of the earth" and "the light of the world." These are everyday images, yet they are packed with meaning.

Salt of the earth. What does Jesus mean by that? Well, as I explained in my opening discussion, flavorless paprika is worthless. So is salt that has lost its saltiness. Even today, we can appreciate that salt has to stay salty to be worth anything.

But in our modern world, salt has been given a bad name. Since we typically use overly processed salt and it’s so prevalent in prepared foods, it has come to be associated with high blood pressure and heart disease. This was not so in the ancient world. It was used not just as a zesty seasoning and as a preserver of food, but it was a disinfectant, it was rubbed on newborn children, used to seal covenants, sprinkled on sacrifices, and understood as a metaphor for wisdom. Salt was so important that it was regarded as a miraculous substance associated with God's gracious activity. Keeping your saltiness, then, is a big deal in this metaphor.

Light of the world. What does Jesus mean by that? This metaphor seems a bit easier to grasp. Jesus recalls the words of the prophet Isaiah that "the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light." For those who were lost or in despair, on them "light has dawned." Jesus is himself this light. He illuminates our way. He gives us hope and direction. When we baptize people, we recall the words of Jesus from this Gospel passage: “let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven."

To be the light of the world is a daunting task. We can’t do it on our own. We must be a channel of the divine. We must allow God’s light to shine in and through us by the things we do. We are to valuing those who are dispossessed, care for those who suffer loss, seek to do justice, show mercy, have integrity, be peacemakers, and courageously stand up for what we believe. That’s being light to the world.

However, the church has been challenged for some time, even before the global economy veered toward collapse. Just about all the major denominations in the US have lost numbers and influence in recent years. It’s difficult to make Christ known in this fast-paced, digital age. As Christians, we are not understood or appreciated by our world. In the face of this opposition, it is not easy to remain steadfast. It is not easy to keep on keeping on, to hold fast to what we believe, to love all people and continue to work for justice on behalf of those in need.

But this difficulty is nothing new. Back in Jesus’ day it was a problem. That’s why he told them implicitly that they were to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. This is and always has been our mission as Jesus’ followers. This is exactly why we are here and we don’t need to expect that task to be easy. It never was.

Yet as the salt of the earth, as the light of the world we are different from our culture. We have faith. We have hope. We are called to live the new life that we’ve been given by God. Like salt changes the flavor and dynamics of the food it’s placed on, we are to make changes in our world. Like light illuminates its surroundings, we are to illuminate and change our world. We are to be active—not just talking about love and mercy, but doing it. And if we neglect to do this, we are like salt that has been rendered unsalty. We are like a flashlight whose batteries have grown dim. Perhaps you could even say we are like flavorless paprika that doesn’t deserve to be carried out on a wilderness trek and against whom organizations like WAP could form. If we neglect our mission, we are worthless.

Jesus has given us quite a challenge. We must remain salty. We must remain bright. How? It seems the only way this is possible is for us to plug into our source. We must know Jesus. Really know him. We must sit as his feet—as the people did on the mount— so that we can learn from him. Our entire Christian life hinges upon our relationship with Christ. This is why prayer, scriptures, worship and the sacraments are so important. They deepen our relationship with Jesus. And when this connection is deep and strong, then we can simply allow his light to shine through us. Doing God’s work is a natural desire placed in our hearts. So in this season of light, let us pay special attention to God’s light—that in drawing near it, it may shine more brightly through us. Amen.

UNCHAIN MY SOUL

2010-10-11T09:08:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for the 20th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C

Rev. Laura Gentry

Preached at Our Savior's Lutheran Church

Lansing, Iowa

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Picture this: you are sitting alone in a prison cell. You are shackled, hungry and miserable. You are aware that you are awaiting your death sentence. Worst of all, you didn’t commit any crime. You are here in this awful place because you did the right thing and you boldly proclaimed the message of Jesus Christ.

What’s your response? Do you live in denial and try to pretend this is not happening to you? Do you shake your fists at God and ask why you’ve had to suffer so? Do you give in to depression and lose hope?

You don’t do any of those things. Not, at least, if you are Saint Paul. Instead of despairing—which is obviously his natural reaction (he is human, after all), he holds firm to his faith, resolute to endure everything. And then gets busy with his letter writing.

In our first lesson, we are privy to one such letter. This one was written to Timothy, a young church leader who has worked with Paul. In Ephesus, Timothy is facing false teachings that are threatening to destroy his ministry. Scholars today find it unlikely that Paul himself wrote this letter to Timothy. It was probably a minister who was inspired by Paul and who was writing in his style. In ancient times this was a common practice and was a way of showing respect for the person in whose name it was written. In any case, the timeless truth of God’s power shines out in these words.

This is a letter of encouragement. Even today, so many years after this piece was written, we Christians still need encouragement. Perhaps, we need it more than ever before. It is so easy to feel sorry for ourselves and think that God ought to be doing more for us. But this letter reminds Timothy and it reminds us that we must focus on the gospel if we are to endure our presence circumstances.

This amazing passage declares the central message of our faith: Jesus Christ is risen from the dead. He has broken the bonds of death and is alive, and because he lives we may live also. This truth should always be in the forefront of our minds. We must hold firm to this. We live because Christ gave us life and not just life for this world, but life beyond the grave.

Paul knows this. Here he is, languishing in prison while nearly all of his friends have abandoned him. His ministry has led him to suffering. But he knows that his Lord Jesus Christ also suffered and so this suffering can draw him closer to God, not further away. He is aware of the truth that though his body is chained, God’s word is not. God’s word is not chained. What a powerful message!

And because God’s word is not chained, Paul is not chained. Yes, he may be in prison, but his soul is unchained. All things are still possible because he walks in faith. Now, he can endure this suffering and he reminds us that God gives us the power to do the same. We an live as resurrected people. Every morning is Easter morning because we are risen with Christ and that means we are risen above any of the circumstances of our lives that chain us. In Christ, our souls are unchained.

The other scripture readings for today bear witness to this reality. In both the Hebrew Scripture reading about Naaman and the Gospel reading about the 10 lepers, we see God’s word being unchained. In both stories, there are men who are stricken with leprosy. Talk about chains. These people were afflicted both physically and socially because their disease caused them to be ostracized. They were truly men without hope.

And then God’s power comes into the picture and heals them. They are given their lives back—resurrection is truly what happens to them. And not only that, some of those healed are outsiders. Naaman is the commander of the enemy army and one of the ten lepers Jesus heals is a Samaritan. It would have been unthinkable to the ancient audiences of these scriptures that God would heal such unworthy candidates. Yet that’s precisely what God does. Unchained? Yes! God’s word is unchained and God’s embrace is so much wider than we could ever fathom. And now, those who have been healed and unchained as well. Their lives are resurrected and will never be the same again.

So what does this all mean for us? We who live with the many chains of our modern world, we who suffer untold pain, we who fear about the future—what can this brief letter, which wasn’t even necessarily written by Paul, do for us?

Well, if we listen closely with the ears of faith, we know that these words were written just for you and me. "If we have died with him, we will also live with him." There is nothing surer. Though life may be full of suffering, we follow a living Lord. Paul says it all in his second letter to the Corinthians, chapter 4 verse 17, "our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all."

God's Word is not chained, my friends. Do you believe that? Can you embrace that truth even when things look really dismal? Can you allow God to unchain your soul so that you may truly live today?

The wonderful thing is that God offers to free us even without our own doing. We don’t have to earn God’s love. It is a gift. Martin Luther once said that "the only thing we bring to our salvation is sin and resistance!" How powerful to know that all is God’s gift, all is grace even though we are so imperfect and so frequently faithless.

And now that we have this gift of resurrected life, we have the gleaming opportunity to live it. We have the amazing chance to be truly unchained. God wants to heal us and lift us up so that we can walk in newness of live today and on into eternity. Let us be unchained. Let us live. Amen.

Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

A DESPERATE GOD

2010-09-12T20:05:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for the 16th Sunday in Pentecost

September 12, 2010

Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 15:1-10

Don’t you just hate it when you lose something and you have to go searching around for it? Have you ever lost something really important? What did you do? How did you seek it?

I once lost a turtle in the garden outside my office in the church where I interned. I turned the place upside down. I even let the children’s choir mess up the landscaping in an attempt to locate the wayward reptile. “Izzy!” they shouted wildly as they hunted around. I had to chuckle when I overheard one little girl pleading. “Izzy, Izzy!” she cried, “please come back or I think Pastor Gentry’s going to cry!” When we found Izzy five months later, we rejoiced. It even became the headline story for our Christmas letter that year.

In today’s gospel reading from Luke, Jesus tells two parables in a row on being lost and found. Now these parables are probably quite familiar to us and so they might sort of fly under the radar. They seem so nice. Even sentimental. Especially the one about the lost sheep. That is even cuter than my turtle story.

But what we might not realize is how shocking these parables really are. So let’s try to unpack Jesus’ radical message in them, shall we?

First of all, let’s look at the context. It begins with Jesus getting criticized by the religious authorities. Now we have religious authorities today too, me, for example. And we’ve got our church council members and our Sunday school teachers, who we will be installing this morning. They’re good people. They work very hard to know God’s will and obey it. But these folks are having a hard time understanding Jesus’ actions.

You see, Jesus isn’t behaving the way they expected him to behave. They don’t mind his message so much as the company he’s keeping. He’s hanging out rather extensively with sinners. We’re taking about tax collectors—traitors who worked for the oppressive Roman government, and sinners so bad they couldn’t even move in polite society. And if that weren’t bad enough, he’s eating with them. In biblical times, that implied a closeness, a familiarity. You only eat with people that you’re really connected to. So why would Jesus, this famous rabbi, be eating with this band of scumbags? It is not surprising, then, that the religious authorities felt obligated to say something about this to Jesus. His behavior was driving them through the roof.

Jesus, however, in typical Jesus-fashion, has a ready answer for their complaint. In fact, he’s got two parables ready to go. He unleashes them to help them understand that God is not at all like they thought.

"Which one of you," he asks them, “having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?”

Now at first, you might think that this is a logical anecdote. Ah, but wait a minute. Think about it: who would you leave their ninety-nine safe and sound sheep to go search for their stray? Well, perhaps if they had a nice clean pen to put them in so they’d be safe. But that’s not what Jesus is asking. He’s asking who would leave them out in the wilderness where they would be in peril to go search for the lost one? Um, well, then I’d have to say nobody. Nobody would be that ridiculous and reckless. That makes no sense. No. You cut your losses and move on. That's what a normal shepherd would do.

Well, what about the second parable? This one makes a bit more sense: if you had only ten coins and lost one, you'd search, too, sweeping and sweeping until you find it. Hey, you’ve probably done this! But once you found it, would you really call your friends and invite them to rejoice? Keep in mind that in biblical times to have a party means to serve a meal. So with that in mind, let's try that again: which one of you would search all night for your silver coin and then spend at least twice that much in celebrating your find with your friends? Again, nobody! At least nobody with sense.

But that's just it. When it comes to God's children—God's lost children—God hasn’t any sense. At all. God would eagerly risk everything to find one of them—one of us—and having found a lost child, would give everything to celebrate. There's only one kind of word for this behavior: desperate. We don’t usually think of God as being desperate but that’s the exact picture Jesus is painting of God in these parables. God is desperate for us. God wants to throw all caution to the wind in hopes of finding us and drawing us back into the fold of God’s love.

It is in Jesus that we see most profoundly that God is desperate for us. God sent Jesus to come and claim the wayward children who are lost. This is radical news.

Have you ever been physically lost? It’s a frightening feeling. When we traveled to Bulgaria 3 years ago, we were surprised to discover they rarely post street signs so having a map doesn’t really help. We joked that we had no idea where we were until the third day. But seriously, being lost is no fun.

And when you're lost, at least according to this parable, there's not much you can do. Jesus doesn't set out a formula about how you have repent first or earn your salvation by saying the appropriate "sinner's prayer." He seems to understand that when you’re lost, you’re lost. Sometimes, you don’t even know you’re lost. You need someone to come find you.

And Jesus finds us. The good news is that you and I have been found. Now that we’ve been found, we are free and we can rejoice. That’s why the Christian life centerd around joy. We were lost but now we’re found. When we can let this fact sink in, we cannot help but be happy.

Perhaps that’s what the Pharisees have forgotten—how amazingly joyful it is to be sought, found and loved by desperate God. They remember the importance of obedience, discipline, and morality, but they’ve lost touch with the pure joy of being found.

Thanks to these parables, we are reminded again of our own joy. It is easy to forget amid the stress of our everyday lives that what we’re called to is rejoice. How comforting to know that God is still desperately searching, sweeping, and looking for God's lost and beloved children and won't ever stop until we're all found.

I understand this because that run-away turtle I told you about earlier, well, she ran away again. So if you happen to see a box turtle who answers to the name of Izzy, please let me know. I’m desperate to find her.

Now may the peace of Christ, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

CHOOSE LIFE

2010-09-06T06:40:00.000-07:00

A SERMON FOR THE 15TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Deuteronomy 30:15-20

After their 40 year journey through the desert, Moses and the Israelites have approached the Promised Land. Now, their leader gives them final instruction, as they will soon press on to dwell in the land promised to them by God and he will remain there to live out his final days.

The book of Deuteronomy contains the incredible set of instructions, which Moses delivers to God’s people. These people are people of the promise. They are truly living in God’s grace. They have been delivered from slavery and given freedom. They’ve survived the trecherous years of wandering in the wilderness. And they have been given the Law, which has the power to guide them into the paths of life.

In this morning’s passage from Deuteronomy, we are allowed to listen in as Moses lays out the important choice that they will need to make: obedience or death. Love God and live, he tells them. Or serve other gods and perish! The entire Torah, the first 5 books of the Hewbrew Scriptures, has been driving toward this choice.

Now, on brink of the Promised Land and at this crucial point at the end of his big sermon, Moses urges the people to make the right choice. God won’t make the choice for them. God simply lays it before them. Life or death. You can imagine the passion with which Moses cries out these words: "See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity." Choose life.

How do they do this? They cling to the law. They learn it, they love it and they obey it. All too often, as Christians, we get so fixated upon grace in Jesus Christ that we forget that the law is life-giving. When we obey God’s law, we send our roots deep into the very heart of God. We know God and we learn to conform our actions to God’s will. Not that we’ll ever be perfect, but each good choice we make brings us closer to life, closer to joy, closer to being who we were created to be.

You see Moses is preaching to the people who came from Egypt. They were born and raised there. Slavery in Egypt is all they knew. Now, he shows them the way of freedom. The hope is that they will want to embrace this freedom and not be tempted to go back to Egypt.

The hope for us is that we, too, will embrace the life-giving freedom God offers us. We too, must resist the temptation to go back to Egypt. Why would we want to go back to Egypt? Because it’s easy. Because it is what we know. Because it is where everybody else is going. Egypt, in this sense, is not the country, but the state of mind that loves to disobey God. It is that part inside of each one of us that says: “You don’t need this! Obeying God is too demanding. It’s way too risky. Just forget it. Be selfish. Live for your own purposes. You don’t need God.”

And that voice, my friends, is the voice of enslavement. It is the way that leads to fear, saddness, and death. It lies to us. Every day it lies to us. But we don’t have to listen to that voice. We have a choice, Moses reminds us. And the choice God wants us to make is life. Will we choose life? It’s risky, it’s alaming, but it’s incredible!

In the Psalm for today, it says: Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither.” (Psalm 1:1-3)

For us to be happy, according to this piece of wisdom literature, we must reject the advice of this world and delight in God’s Law. We must meditate upon it constantly so that we’ll be like trees plated by streams of living water. No matter how the weather batters us, we will still be tapped into our source. We will not wither. We will be choosing life.

What does this mean? How are we to meditate upon God’s Law? The word “meditation” often scares people off—they associate it with eastern mysticism. That’s not the point here. To meditate means to think about the instruction God has given for life. It means to dwell on it so much that it changes us. Day and night, we are to keep God’s Law in mind. This means the Bible is not casual reading. It is not for amusement, it is for life! We need to be reading it, considering it, meditating upon it, and acting upon it. That’s what choosing life is all about. How exciting that we can make this choice.

Jesus put this choice before his followers as well. To everyone’s shock, he says: "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26-27)

Wait a minute, I thought Jesus wanted followers. Now, he makes it sound so difficult that nobody would want to follow him! But he wants people to know exactly what they are getting themselves into. Early Christians left everything to follow Jesus and exchanged their place in their birth families for the Christian community, which became a surrogate family for them. It is not that they hated their families, but their allegiance to Jesus was so much greater that it resembled hate by comparison. These followers understood that life apart from Jesus is without value. Nothing is more important than following him. Nothing. And for this reason, they were willing to forsake all for him so that they could choose life—authentic life.

And so today, we have the exciting opportunity to meditate upon Moses’ message of the choice we have to make: life or death. We hear the joyful wisdom of the Psalmist who reminds us that happiness comes not from this world but from God’s law. And we have the call of Jesus who also invites us to choose life and not take that choice lightly because it may cost everything. Today, my friends, may we recognize anew that life, true life, the life we seek so deserately, is found in God alone. So let’s go after it with everything that is within us. Let’s choose life.

WE OUGHT TO DANCE WITH RAPTURE

2010-07-31T11:52:00.000-07:00

The following sermon is from the wedding of Gabrielle Lynn McNally and Samuel Edmond White, which took place on Mount Hosmer in Lansing, Iowa on July 31, 2010.

They meet for the first time. He looks into her eyes. She takes his hand. They waltz across the stage, floating gracefully as the music soars. And they live happily ever after.

Sounds like a fairy tale or an internet forward, huh? No no, it is the real life story of Gabby and Sam. And I’m here with you and with the two of them on this, their wedding day because I engineered the whole thing by begging Gabby to audition for the Allamakee Players’ production of “Meet Me in Saint Louis” four years ago. I’d like to take credit for fixing her up with this amazing groom she’s got here but frankly, I was just trying to make sure we’d have a strong female lead. Little did I know she would meet the love of her life and they would dance off into the sunset together.

Gabby’s been dancing for a long time. When I first met her, I was choreographing a summer production of Grease and she was a dancing cast member. I later interviewed her for an art project I was doing to reveal the inner lives of teenage girls. When Gabby and I spoke, it was clear to me that she’d found a wisdom, a confidence beyond her young age. She said: “I found authenticity, but I don’t think that some people are that open to the idea, or just, you know, they’re trying so hard to fit in.” Gabby summoned the courage (and I think it had a lot to do with her parents’ unswerving love and support) to be herself. She emphatically said to me: “I’d like to think that I’m passionate too, like God is, just about my life and about the way I feel.” Yes, this young girl was already dancing to the beat of her own drummer.

And who waltzes into the life of this fiesty, amazing girl but a dashing, dancing young man named Sam? You guessed it, they were cast opposite one another in the Allamakee Players’ production so they were forced to spend the summer singing and dancing together. And it was at these rehearsals that Gabby began to noticed how wonderful Sam is. The first thing he got points for was getting along with her mom. He knew how to get to her heart. She found in Sam a kindred spirit who not only shares her interests in the arts, but is also a person of kindness generosity. And on top of that he’s a fellow rock concert devotee and has a great sense of humor!

They fast became friends. Then a romance blossomed. Then, four years later he popped the question. She said yes yes, she said yes before he could even finish asking. They both feel blessed to have the gift of one another. It’s the kind of love story everyone dreams of.

And all of this brings you, Gabby and Sam, to this sacred moment. The dance you began on that stage all those years ago is about to take a turn, a whirl if you will, into a deeper, more profound dance—a dance that you intend will last you the rest of your lives.

D.H. Lawrence wrote: “We ought to dance with rapture that we might be alive...and part of the living, incarnate cosmos.” That is your challenge, I believe, as you make your matrimoials vows to one another and move on from here. How can you dance in a way that makes you fully alive, fully a part of the living, incarnate cosmos—and do it in a unified way, as a married couple who can dance together without stepping on each other’s toes?

Well, that’s your job. But as a spiritual leader and a friend who's been asked to speak at your wedding, I’d like to offer 3 words of wisdom to you this evening that I hope you’ll bear in mind as you do the dance of life together.

My first piece of advise is: dance with passion. I know you are passionate people but you must stay passionate and direct that passion towards one another. According to a recent poll in the UK, the average romance now lasts two years, six months and 25 days. You’re already past that and you're still in love so that’s good. Gabby, you say “Sam’s my everything.” And Sam, you say “Gabby’s my everything.” Well, guess what? You’ve got to keep it that way if you want to dance with passion.

In the Bible, there is a whole book of romantic love poems called the Song of Solomon. In chapter 8, it says: “Love is as strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. ” Powerful words for a powerful emotion.

Gabby and Sam, it is your responsibility to keep your love alive, so that it will burn as strong as death. This connection that you have of mind, body, and spirit can and must grow. If you make this a priority, you’ll find that your hearts will continue to thrill with one another. And this will make your dance more passionate.

The second word of wisdom I have is: dance with positivity. Many couples get into trouble after a while, when the blinders come off their eyes and they see the truth about each other. All of their differences that they used to find so charming and cute become downright annoying. The reality is, there are endless things to dislike about each other. How easy it would be to fall into the trap of taking each other for granted and not seeing the incredible miracle that the other is.

In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he addressed this human tendency. He was writing to the whole community but I think his words are equally applicable in the case of marriage. He offers these profound words: Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. (Philippians 4:8)

We all have behavioral habits. The things we do are based on the patterns we’ve set up for ourselves. What Paul is urging here and what I’m urging is well, is that you start your marriage off on the right foot. And that means you dance positively. You intentionally think about the things that are good in each other. Just as there are plenty of things to be upset about with one another, there are plenty of things that are true, pleasing and excellent. So just think about those things. It really is that simple.

I’m sure you’re already doing this, but you must make it a relational habit, a way of life, if you intend to keep regarding one another with gratitude. Research shows that people who keep a gratitude journal, who each night before going to sleep write at least five things for which they are grateful, big things or little things, are happier, more optimistic, more successful, more likely to achieve their goals, physically healthier; it actually strengthens their immune system, and makes them more generous and benevolent toward others. This is an exercise that takes about three minutes a day with life-changing benefits. Gabby and Sam, I suggest you keep a gratitude journal about one another. Write down 5 things you appreciate about your spouse each day. In this way, you’ll be following the scriptural exhortation to think about those things which are worthy of praise. You’ll be enhancing your lives as you learn to dance with greater and greater positivity.

My final bit of wisdom is dance with purpose. I know that you are spiritual people. This is important. You must continue to tap into your spiritual roots. This is the place from which you draw your strength, grounding, and life purpose. If you are both doing this, it will bring you closer.

Psalm 87:7 puts it this way: Singers and dancers alike say, “All my springs are in you.” Sam and Gabby, you are young and optimistic but the truth is, there will be hard times ahead. You will experience negative emotions, hurts, disappointments and faillures even within this relationship. The hard knocks of life will come. But you, the singers and dancers, can cling to your Creator. You can hold fast to God, the wellspring of spiritual power.

In 1 John, Chapter 4 it says:

"Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love....Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us."

This scripure tells us that your love for one another comes from God and it is through your love, that God lives in you. This means that your marriage has a spiritual foundation. God will be at work perfecting your love as the glowing depth, beauty and joy of your love increases over the years. This is the purpose of which I speak.

Gabby and Sam, we share your excitement. We want the very best for you and your marriage. We hope that your unified dance will be a constant source of blessing and that you’ll remember to dance with passion, to dance with positivity and to dance with purpose, that you may be alive and part of the incarnate cosmos.

Let us pray: O God of Love, pour down your grace upon Gabby & Sam that they may fulfill the vows they will make this day and reflect your steadfast love in their life-long faithfulness to each other. As members with them in the family of God, use us to support their life together; and from your great store of strength give them power and patience, affection and understanding, courage, and love toward you, toward each other, and toward the world, that they may continue to dance together in true and constant love. Amen.

LAUGHING IN HEAVEN

2010-07-17T13:54:00.000-07:00

The following is a sermon I preached for the funeral of my great uncle, Donald Dodge in Colesburg, Iowa. Click here for his obituary.

Psalm 68:3-7

But let the righteous be joyful; let them exult before God; let them be jubilant with joy.

Sing to God, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides upon the clouds—his name is the Lord— be exultant before him.

Father of orphans and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation.

God gives the desolate a home to live in; he leads out the prisoners to prosperity, but the rebellious live in a parched land.

O God, when you went out before your people, when you marched through the wilderness,

the earth quaked, the heavens poured down rain at the presence of God, the God of Sinai, at the presence of God, the God of Israel.

John 14:15-21, 27

”If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.” Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

IN THE NAME OF OUR SAVIOR WHO HAS DEFEATED DEATH, DEAR FAMILY AND FRIENDS OF DONALD DODGE.

When I was a very little girl, I remember being at a family gathering playing in the basement with my cousins. I ran upstairs for something and at the top of the steps, I was met by my great Uncle Donald who looked at me and casually said: “Okay, Laura, I paid your daddy the dime for you so you’re going home with me.” Being too young to know it was once of his many jokes, I whirled around and ran back down the stairs as fast as my little legs would take me. He laughed and laughed at me and never did let me live that one down.

That’s one of my first memories of Uncle Donald. And I smile at each and every memory of him, as I know you do too. It was great to hear stories from his great grandaughter, Lucie. Donald was so eager to offer a joke, a witicism, a laugh or just that big delightful grin of his.

In Proverbs, we read: “a cheerful heart is a good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones.” (Proverbs 17:22) All of Donald’s friends, children, grand children, and great grandchildren were given a dose of good medicine whenever they encountered him. He was ever sharing his cheerful heart and cheering us all along the way. When you were in his presence, you were lifted.

Donald was certainly a person who lived out the joy of the Lord. He really walked the walk because he knew his Savior. In the Psalm we just heard, it says: "let the righteous be joyful; let them exult before God; let them be jubilant with joy." This does speak of Donald, doesn’t it? He was ever jubilant with joy. From this joyfulness, he was so caring, serving and all-around wonderful.

But when a person of jubilant joy departs, we feel a profound loss. Not that we thought we’d have him forever—we nearly did—but somehow the end still feels too soon. We need God’s help.

And for you Karen and Cindy, this is especially hard. You’ve lost your last remaining parent. It may feel—even at your age—that you’ve been orphaned. How do you go on without your parents? Jesus’ disciples felt this way too when he announced that he would be going to be with the Father. And so he assured them that he would not leave them. That’s what we heard in the Gospel reading this morning: I will not leave you orphaned. No, he promised that he would come to them and make his home with them and give them peace, even in the midst of distress. This reading closes with one of the most beautiful passages in the bible. Jesus says: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

This beautiful peace beyond what the world can give is what our beloved Donald has now entered into. He is surrounded in glorious light, joy and peace. And Jesus promises us that same peace here as we continue our journey on earth. It is the peace of God that passes all understanding. Because we’ve been given the gift of this peace, we musn’t be afraid. Our hearts need not be troubled. We have God’s peace.

Therefore, our mourning, though deep, is only temporary. The Psalmist declares to the Lord, “You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy!” This is good news to all of us who mourn. The God we love will transform our mourning so much so that not only will we be okay, we’ll be dancing! Because we know that death is but a gateway to eternal life, because we know we will one day be reunited with Donald and all those we love who have gone before, because Jesus Christ has died for us, we can rejoice. Even now. Even as we mourn. Yes, we can and should faithfully rejoice. I know Donald would want it that way.

I’m a Lutheran minister so I have to sneak in a quote from Martin Luther and here it is. He wrote: “If you’re not allowed to laugh in heaven, I don’t want to go there.” I know Donald agreed with that sentiment. Yes, should rejoice even in our sorrow because we know our sackcloth will eventually come off and we’ll be clothed with joy, but Donald has already been clothed with joy. Completely. He is so full of the joy of the Lord right now that he must be laughing. I can only imagine how full his belly laugh is right now. I can only imagine how happy he was to take his beloved wife, Lucille, back into his arms and laugh together with her again. I can only imagine how they’ve both been lifted up on eagle’s wings, how they shine like the sun in God’s eternal kingdom. Oh, if we just picture them in our minds’ eye for a moment, we cannot help but smile.

This is why we may have tears today but it is really a day of celebration. We celebrate the happy, loving life of Donald Dodge. We celebrate the multitude of things that he meant to us. We celebrate how he enriched and changed our lives with the cheerfulness medicine he dished out daily. We celebrate the fact that his ours and we are his and so we’ll always have him in our hearts. And most of all, we celebrate the God who created Donald, saved him and gave him joy—joy that never never ends.

Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

COME, JOIN THE DANCE

2010-05-30T14:13:00.000-07:00

Today is Holy Trinity Sunday—the only day of the church year dedicated to a theological teaching not associated with the life of Jesus. Furthermore, it contains the word “trinity,” which is not a biblical word but a theological concept developed about 300 years after Jesus’ death. A strange church day, to be sure.

But I’m totally into it. I know I’m an exception to the norm as I was brought up wholly immersed in the life of the church. I distinctly remember riding my tricycle around the garage on days it was too cold to trike outside. And as I made my circles, I would recite the Apostle’s Creed. Round and round I would go until I was both an excellent triker and an excellent mini theologian. I was able to wrap my mind around the doctrine of the Trinity even before I graduated to two wheels. Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m a church nerd.

Yes, we celebrate the triune nature of God today. For those of you who might not be full-blown church nerds, what does this mean?

In the Hebrew Scriptures, the chosen people understood that God one God and was the only God. This was quite different from their cultural context where people carved lots of “gods” out of stone or cast them in metal and told stories of how these gods fought with each other endlessly—always staking out their supernatural turf. No, when the father of the faith, Abraham set forth from Ur to follow God’s command to go to the land of Caanan, he knew that there was just one God—and an all-powerful God that must be obeyed even if it was inconvenient. Moses knew this one God too, and saw God’s power unleashed in Egypt as God freed the enslaved and lead them forth to the Promised Land. The prophets continued to speak out about this one God who was holy and above all knowing.

Then, Jesus came into the picture and the new religious movement of Christians began to speak not only of God, but of the Son of God and of the Holy Spirit that was still moving among them. Yet, they declared that all these were still one God. No wonder people got confused and frustrated by this new understanding. It IS difficult to understand God.

Saint Augustine often puzzled about the whole idea of describing God as a Trinity. He described an incident in which he was walking along the beach and observed a young boy with a bucket, running back and forth to pour water into a little hole. Augustine asked, "What are you doing?" The boy replied, "I'm trying to put the ocean into this hole." It suddenly occurred to Augustine that just as this boy was pursuing the ridiculous goal of putting the whole ocean into the hole, he was pursuing an equally ridiculous goal: trying to put an infinite God into his finite mind. We, with our very limited brains (in comparison to God’s wisdom), have come up with the doctrine of the Holy Trinity—the belief that God is expressed in three parts as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But we must recognize, as Augustine did, that we could never fully understand God—we could never fully capture God’s entire essence with a doctrine.

Yet we do have this doctrine and it can give us a peephole into the divine. What is this triune God like? Well, the Athanasian Creed puts it this way: “In this Trinity, no one is before or after, greater or less than the other; but all three persons are in themselves, coeternal and coequal; and so we must worship the trinity in unity and the one God in three persons.” Jesus explained it similarly when he said: "Do you not know that the Father is in me and I in the Father?" And of the Spirit, Jesus said: "When the Spirit of truth comes, he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” These three, equal persons of God work together in community as one, unified God. Some theologians insist that what is most important about belief in a triune God is not that we see God in three ways, but that we understand God as dynamic community. God, you see, is a like a committee...that actually works.

What is unique about Trinitarian theology, is that it explains that there is an inner relational energy within the three forms of God. John of Damascus, an eighth-century theologian, described the Trinity with the Greek word "perichoresis." This word comes from the same root as the word "choreography." It suggests that there is a movement, a graceful dance within the internal life of God. It is a dance of inclusion, equality and most of all, love.

God, the great "I AM," whom we can never fully understand gives us a major clue to help us understand. We see that God is not alone, God is—at the very core—relationship. This is completely different from those Greek gods of old who were constantly fighting with one another. Not so for our God. In the Trinity we find a beautiful and caring relationship. God is united and loving and dancing together seamlessly.

Amazing! And yet what is even more amazing is that we have been invited into the dance too. God could have danced in peace apart from our world and all its selfish ambition. Instead, God chooses to redeem us and to be together with God and one another in the dance of life.

We all know the pain of not being invited, not being included. We humans do this to each other all the time, and it hurts. God does just the opposite: God invites all to the table. No one is an outsider in God’s eyes. Everyone is beloved and vitally important. Remember that when Jesus was baptized, the father God said to him: "You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased." Well, when we are baptized, God says the same thing to us: "You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased."
We are invited into the Trinity of God in our baptism. We become part of the dance—adopted by God the father, redeemed by God the Son and sealed with God the Holy Spirit. What have we to fear, then? If God has brought us into the harmonious community, then we can live in unspeakable joy. We are beloved, each called by name, each more important than we ever thought we could be. This is a dance we can dig.

Now you can see that the doctrine of the Trinity is not just a fancy theory—it is the reality in which we live each day of our lives. We are part of the community and we are free to dance with God. How, then, should we dance?

In a very popular passage from 1 Corinthians, the Apostle Paul explained that we need to respond to this amazing love by being loving ourselves. Love, he said, is not a gushy feeling but an action. Love is patient. It is kind. It is not jealous or self-serving. It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs. Love is the more excellent way. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. It never ends.

That’s the kind of dance we need. As I visit with people both inside and outside the congregation, I am chronically aware of this need. So many people feel hurt, lonely, isolated, rejected. There is pain that burns secretly within. It is like baggage too heavy to carry. They don’t know where to go or what to do to turn that around. They do not see themselves as beloved. They do not realize that they could be dancing with God.

We, who have been claimed as God’s beloved have an obligation to these people. We are to be the hands and feet of this triune God and make sure they understand that they are beloved. They are precious and God is pleased with them. They are invited into the dance where there is healing and joy. What more can we be doing to make sure that invitation is conveyed?

There is one God, who is relationship, who is dancing with equity and love. Can’t you see why I get excited about Holy Trinity Sunday? Whether you are a church nerd or not, you can see that it is worth celebrating! We are called to live and move and have our being in the Trinity’s love. This is the more excellent way. May we open our eyes to see our community as God does and say to them: Come, join the dance. Amen.

And now, may the peace which passes all understanding keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© 2010 Laura E. Gentry

FUNERAL SERMON FOR DONNA THRAN

2010-04-03T14:36:00.000-07:00

READ THE OBITUARY HERE

Isaiah 40:28-31

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Romans 8:31-35, 37-39

What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, will he not also give us all things with him? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies; who is to condemn? Is it Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us? Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, of famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, no things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

John 14:15-21, 27

”If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

The prophet Nehemiah spoke God’s word to the people in exile who were grieving. He said: "Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." (Nehemiah 8:10)

Today, as we grieve the loss of Donna,—who was so much to those of us gathered here: wife, mother, sister, aunt, and friend—we feel immense sadness. Grief weighs heavy upon us. And yet God says to us today: do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength. Yes, joy. Even now as our hearts are breaking. Joy is to be our strength.

Though Donna outlived her initial prognosis by a long shot, it still seems way too soon for her journey of life to be at an end. But the end has come and now we have gathered to celebrate her life and entrust her to God. We may not feel like celebrating because of our grief, but celebrate, we must, because Donna lived a life worth celebrating. She was, indeed, the prime example of strength coming from the joy of the Lord.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

You probably learned that little song in Sunday school. It certainly reminds us of Donna, doesn’t it? There are many things that we can say about who Donna was and in particular, who she was to us but I think in just about everyone’s description, the word joy is in there.

Donna was baptized as a child. God claimed her in those waters and planted that joy, joy, joy, joy down in her heart to stay. And yes, that faith and that joy grew as Donna did. Throughout her life, she believed God’s promise of salvation to her through Jesus Christ. She was actively involved in her church. She served faithfully and always with good cheer because of her great love for Jesus.

I’ve got the love of Jesus, love of Jesus down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the love of Jesus, love of Jesus down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

Then, in the prime of her retirement years, she was given a cancer diagnosis. She had to endure a grueling schedule of chemotherapy, which exhausted her. But you sure would not have known that Donna was ill if she hadn’t told you. Even as she was going through all of those treatments, she was strong and remarkably joyful. As we heard in the scripture lesson from Isaiah, God gives power and strength to those who wait upon the Lord. “They shall mount up with wings like eagles,” it says, “they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” Like the eagles that soared outside her windows, God lifted Donna up on eagle’s wings and gave her such strength we knew it was from above.

She continued to shine her bright light into our lives. She went right on serving others in so many ways, including being our church treasurer right up to the beginning of March. Donna kept sending out cards of encouragement as our church’s encouragement team leader. She continued to come to laughter club and share that marvelous, contagious laugh of hers. And she remained the rock of her family.

In Romans, Paul asks: What shall separate us from the love of God? “Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, of famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword? No,” he says, “No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Certainly that’s what Donna was, even in the midst of her illness. She was so in tune with the love of God that she was not deterred by anything. She was a conqueror. No, she was more than a conqueror. She knew the peace of God that passes all understanding and it was her strength.

But what now? What are we to do now that she has passed from this life and into the next, more glorious one? Now she is in the place where there is no pain, no sickness, no death, no sorrow—where God will wipe away all tears. By faith, we have confidence that Donna’s suffering is all over and her joy is expanding, but what about our joy? In our grief, we feel lost and alone without her here. We miss her so much. We wonder if our joy will ever really return.

Jesus disciples felt this kind of uncertainty when he told them about his impending death. They were scared, but he assured them with these comforting words: ”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.” Jesus promises you and me as well that we will not be orphaned. No matter how great our loss, we are not alone. Jesus is coming to us and he is bringing the gift of his peace. He says to us: “ Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Yes, my friends. We can have the peace that passes understanding even now, just as Donna had it all the days of her life.

I’ve got the peace the passes understanding down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the peace the passes understanding down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

So we have the gift of God’s peace to see us through this present darkness. Jesus has promised it to each one of us.

But we have more than that! We have the promise that everyone who believes in Jesus will not die, but will live eternally. This is God’s grace to us. Donna, as I’ve said, was a child of God, loved by Jesus, filled with the strength of joy, lifted upon on eagle’s wings, more than a conqueror and filled with peace. And the good news is that we can be too! All of these things are gifts from God. They are gifts to all those who are willing to receive them.

And this means that we can have the assurance that we will see Donna again. She’s been spirited away from her beloved Mississippi River but the bible promises that in heaven we’ll gather at another, presumably more beautiful river (though it’s hard for us to imagine anything more beautiful). This river is the river that flows from the throne of God and I presume the bird watching there is mighty good. That’s where we will stand one day. And that’s where we’ll have a powerful reunion with Donna and all of the saints who have gone before. We’ll sing and dance and laugh without end.

Last All Saint’s Day, I tried to make the point that we are all saints by virtue of our baptism. God gifts us with saint status because of what God has done for us in Jesus Christ. It is not about our own works, but about the work of Christ. And so I made a painting of an old, stylized saint with a bright, glowing halo and the face was a cut-out. I proceeded to make everyone stick their face through the hole so that they could see themselves and one another as saints.

Now Donna was a saint—I don’t need to convince you of this because you already know it. But have you seen her as a saint? Well, I made this print-out of her saint portrait to show you so that when you see her at the river that flows from the throne of God, you’ll be able to recognize her!

She will be standing there in all God’s glory with her arms open to welcome you. And that, my friends, is good news.

This is why we may have tears today but it is really a day of celebration. We celebrate the happy, loving life of Donna Thran. We celebrate the multitude of things that she meant to us. We celebrate how she enriched and changed our lives. And most of all, we celebrate the God who created her and gave her joy.

So to close my sermon, I would like to invite you to sing the first verse of “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy” with me. Let’s clap and sing and show all our enthusiasm. This one is for Saint Donna.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.

APRIL FOOL'S DAY

2010-04-01T14:57:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for Maundy Thursday

by Pastor Laura Gentry

John 13:1-35

Growing up, my mother made a funny ritual of celebrating “Garbage Day,” which for our household was on Wednesdays. Presumably trying to get us to do the same thing, she would skip into each room to fetch the garbage singing a silly made-up song about “Here comes the Garbage Lady,”which I later developed into a full-fledged song (with Tom’s help) and it ended up on my children’s album. Because of this Garbage Day routine, we used to talk about how Holy Week had so many holidays we couldn’t even grasp it. I mean, wow, you’ve got Garbage Day followed by Maundy Thursday, followed by Good Friday, followed by Easter Vigil, followed by Easter. Whew! Do you see what I mean? This is a big-time week!

And this year, I have been musing about how we have a double holiday on Maundy Thursday. For, as you know, it is also April Fool’s Day, which you may have guessed was also a major holiday in my family. But as I began working on tonight’s sermon, I kept finding conflict with the fact that we’ve got a serious liturgical day in Maundy Thursday but yet it shares a date with the whimsical day of April Fools. Is there any meaning I can derive out of this? This is the questions preachers love to ask.

And so I probed and I pried into the story of Jesus’ last supper once again, this year with an eye for how it might tie in with foolishness. To begin with, it’s not hard to see how outsiders can view this story as a foolish and strange one.

When the early Christians met to celebrate the Lord’s Supper, they were called cannibals. What are you doing eating the “body and blood” of your Lord? That’s too weird. You can see how those outside of Christendom would find it horrifying.

It’s so normal to us. We’ve grown accustomed to this meal of his body and blood, which we understand to be a spiritual reality that inhabits ordinary bread and wine. We know we’re not cannibals. We don’t see the weirdness in it at all.

But that’s not all that seems foolish to the outsiders. Not only is this meal about the body and blood of their leader, it is rooted in all sorts of awful things: denial, betrayal, the suicide of a disciple, a Messiah’s arrest and subsequent death, and perhaps strangest of all: dirty feet. Oh the story has grown tame to us, but these things seem like a foolish way for the God of the Universe to save us.

In the Gospel lesson we’ve just heard, Jesus who been given all things from God into his hands, uses those hands to do the unthinkable: to wash the disciples feet. Yes, the disciples are shocked when Jesus strips off his robe and kneels down to wash each one’s feet. It is hard for us to understand just how outrageous this was. Not only were feet literally unclean—what with all the dirt and donkey droppings they’d have to endure in the course of a day—feet were also symbolically unclean according to their religious traditions. Of course feet needed to be washed, but religious people didn’t wash their own. They had slaves to do that for them, and not just any slave, but the lowest slave in the household. It was an embarrassing chore that nobody but nobody would have volunteered to do. So when Jesus decides to take on the task of foot washing, it causes an uproar. Foolish? You bet!

Why would he do such a thing? Is it April Fool’s Day? Is he joking around? No, Jesus is using his last night to provide a riveting example for us all.

“I give you a new commandment,” He says, “that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

Aha! What looks like pure foolishness turns out to be a profound lesson. He wants to make it absolutely clear that we are to be like him in his humility and his service. We may not do literal acts of foot-washing today, but we have ample opportunity to get our hands dirty doing acts of service. That’s the impact Jesus wants his action to have.

Not only is Jesus’ foot-washing stunt an example of humility and love for us, but it foreshadows his ultimate act of love: his self-sacrificial death on the cross. Indeed, Jesus stooped quite far down to join us in our human walk. And he made this choice for himself. He could have turned back at any moment, but he pushed forward to the cross because of his great love for each one of us.

Last year, my husband and I started a photographic project in which we create Biblical scenes in a modern context. We found a guy in McGregor who looks like all the European paintings of Jesus. He’s got the long, brown hair and beard and he’s about the right age to play the part. So we cast him as our Jesus. Sure enough, you put him in a robe and he’s easily identified as “Jesus.” In fact, it’s made for a lot of jokes. For example, one day we were walking up and down the street taking pictures of him wearing a robe. Some friends from out of town drove by. They were, in fact, looking for us. So when they saw us, one of them shouted, “Look! It’s the Gentrys! And they’re with Jesus!”

When they later told us this, we responded: “Why of course. You were looking for two ministers. Where else would you expect to find us except with Jesus?”

One of William’s members gave this Jesus model his used computer. Now he’s bragging that he’s gotten brownie points with God because of it. He proudly proclaims: “I gave my computer to Jesus!”

Well, one Sunday a few weeks ago, William and I decided we were going to stage the “Arrest of Jesus” scene. We had lined up our Judas model and our Roman soldier model (who is a woman because we are being modern). But ironically, when we went looking for the Jesus model, we found out he had actually been arrested—for real—the night before. It was on some old outstanding warrant he’d failed to deal with and now he was incarcerated at the Clayton County Jail. Now that’s relating to your part a bit too much, don’t you think?

So we decided to go and visit him. We joked about the story from Matthew 25 about the Sheep and the Goats in which Jesus says: “I was in prison and you came and visited me.” We thought we were definitely doing this by visiting “Jesus” in jail. But all the joking faded away when we stood behind the glass in the visiting room and looked at our friend who was sitting there in orange stripes talking about the pain of his present circumstance. Even seeing a fake Jesus in jail was uncomfortable and hard to take.

What was it like for the disciples to see their Lord arrested, tortured and put on the cross? We can only imagine how heart-wrenching it must have been for them. Seeing our friend behind bars gave us just a taste of this.

As we walk with Jesus through the events of Holy Week, we mustn’t let the story wash over us without impact. These are incredible events when you realize that the main character of the story is no ordinary guy—he is the very Son of God. And here he is, stooping to love and to wash feet and then to go all the way to the cross. It is, indeed, foolishness.

But how wonderful this foolishness is! How amazing that the Word became incarnate, and lived among us “full of grace and truth.” And this Word poured out his love on all of his disciples—including a denier like Peter and a betrayer like Judas. So yes, I think it really worked out this year that Maundy Thursday falls on April Fool’s Day. Oh glory, how foolish and wonderful it is that Jesus continues to pour out God’s incredible love on fools like you and me. Amen

REDOING OUR RELIGIOUS RESUMES

2010-03-21T07:38:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent

Pastor Laura Gentry

Phillipians 3: 4b-14

Help! Our church is in trouble! That's what was written to Saint Paul by the leaders of the new Christian church in Philippi. And in we've heard some of Paul's response in our second lesson this morning. Things had been going well at this church. Their membership has been growing steadily, both men and women are involved in leadership, and even their stewardship is going well. The church has plenty of money. But all is not well. Believe it or not, this congregation has issues. Inside the congregation, there is petty fighting, jealousy, gossip and cliques forming. Outside the congregation, Jewish neighbors are looking down on this church, believing themselves superior because they continue to follow all the Jewish laws and rituals, whereas these Gentile converts do not. So everyone is upset.

Good old Paul to the rescue! He was kind of the "Dear Abby" of the ancient Christian world. If you needed sound advice, you'd write to him. So that's why the church in Philippi has solicited his help. He writes back to them with loads of advice. He looks at their issues and narrows it down to the central problem, which in his estimation is pride. They are getting all puffed up about themselves and therefore missing the point of Christ's message.

Paul uses himself as an object lesson to help them understand why religious pride is worthless. He recites his religious resume, yes all of of his pedigree. He was born a Jew and his family followed all the rules and had him circumcised on the 8th day, just as the law prescribes. Not only that, he is an elite purebred Hebrew. Not only that, his family comes from the Tribe of Benjamin! He’s virtually religious royalty. That ought to impress. But that’s just the start. He’s got the right education and model behavior as well. He recalls how zealous he was, how righteous and blameless under the law. In fact, all these things had Paul pretty puffed up.

But as we know, Paul had a dramatic religious experience in which he encountered Jesus Christ and all of that changed. His confidence in himself, his fabulous religious resume and pedigree now became unimportant. In fact, he says that he counts it all a loss because of Christ. He regards his accomplishments as nothing more than rubbish, compared to the surpassing value of knowing Christ. It is just not important in comparison to what Christ has done for us on the cross. It is trash now. What matters is his new life, his resurrected life, in Jesus.

And this relationship turns Paul completely around. In fact, he even gets a new name (remember, his former name was Saul). This radical encounter with the living Christ turns him from persecutor of Christians into a Christian—and not just a run-of-the-mill Christian, he becomes the first and perhaps boldest Christian missionary. Now, because Christ has taken hold of him, he has all new priorities.

Bulking up your religious resume has no benefit, he tells the Christians at Phillipi. Getting puffed up and thinking you are somehow better than this person or that only leads to conflict.

Now you and I could get pretty puffed up about our religious resumes, couldn’t we? There are all kinds of things we could say. For example: (puffs up a ballon larger after each statement)

All my ancestors were Christians
I’ve been a Christian all my life
I was baptized as a baby
I was the head of my confirmation class
I raised my children as Christians
They were all at the too of their confirmation classes too
I have the books of the Bible memorized
I have perfect attendance at church
I lead Bible study for circle (and make great cookies to go serve the ladies as well)
I serve on the church council
I am Christian through and through
Even my pets are Christian
And most of all: I am a good person

Ah yes, you can think quite highly of yourselves with your puffed-up-ness. That's for sure. But you know what Paul would say about all those "brownie points" you thought you earned, that you’ve been getting puffed up about? It’s rubbish. (Let’s balloon go so it flies around the church)

These things are not what’s important. These things will never win our salvation. But if we can’t cling to our puffed-up-ness, what can we cling to? (Picks up a small cross) The cross. As the old hymn says, “I will cling to the old rugged cross and exchange it someday for a crown.”

What is most important is knowing Christ. Paul puts it in this way: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings.”

During Holy Week, which begins next Sunday we will be focusing on Jesus’ passion and death, and that is a necessary part of our journey to Easter. But even in the heart of Lent, we must not lose sight of the fact that we are Easter people. It has been said, truly, that you can’t have Easter without Good Friday. But Good Friday wouldn’t be “good” if it weren’t for Easter. If Jesus had simply suffered and died, and that was the end of the story, why would we want to share in his suffering? In fact, if we were putting our trust in a Christ who was not raised from the dead, we would be, as Paul tells us in another passage, “of all people most to be pitied.”

But just what does Paul mean to “share in his sufferings?” What does this mean for us? Suffering is not something we like to sign up for. Perhaps this Lent we have been practicing some kind of “fasting”: in the kinds or quantities of food we eat, or in our enjoyment of some other pleasures. Or perhaps we have chosen instead to take on some spiritual discipline for this holy season—like more time for prayer. This is a very small way to share in Christ’s suffering, to become like him in his death. Perhaps we need simply to “die” a little more to ourselves—to focus on others and not just on our own concerns and the concerns of those near and dear to us. Jesus said that whatever we do to the least of his brothers and sisters we do to, or for, him. How might we enter into the suffering of those brothers and sisters—the sick, the poor, the homeless or hungry, those who are alone, who are oppressed? It’s not too late to make that a part of our Lenten practice. In fact, we can and should do it anytime, no matter what the season.

Our reading concludes with one more passionate remark from Paul. He writes: “This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

I press on! What lies behind is unimportant. We can’t impress God with our fabulous religious resumes. They are trash. What we need is Christ’s resume. We need the one who paid the price for our sins to earn God’s favor for us. We have a friend in Jesus who has redeemed us, and who is calling us, who is calling us to enter into his suffering, death and resurrection. That is the ultimate prize! And it is ours for the taking. So we must press on!

Eugene Peterson has written a paraphrased bible, called The Message. In it, he paraphrases this verse by saying: “I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.”

No my friends, we’re not turning back. We know Christ and in our heart of hearts we want to know him more. We want to love him. We want to be entirely his own. We want to cling to the cross, not our own merit. We've got to redo our religious resumes and take off everything but the cross of Christ. That alone will get us to the prize of the heavenly call of God. Let us press on to follow this call wherever it lead us!

Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

TOLERATING GOD'S TOLERANCE

2010-03-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

A Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 15: 1-3, 11-32

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Jesus was famous for his teaching stories known as parables. In this morning’s passage, he relates the famous parable of the prodigal son. It’s so famous, in fact, that we might forget to take notice of it. Oh, we already know that story, we can just tune out, right? Well, no actually. Jesus told this parable to people not unlike us because he had a very urgent message. Just what was that message and why should we pay attention instead of catching a wee little nap in the pew right now?

Well let’s start at the very beginning. A man had two sons, according to Jesus. And one son asks his father for his inheritance so he can go make his way in the world. Now to our ears, this might sound fairly acceptable. After all, we want our kids to grow up and go lead their own lives. Hopefully, they’ll make a success out of themselves and perhaps bring some money back. What’s wrong with asking Dad for a little seed money for this endeavor?

Jesus’ ancient, rural audience in the Middle East would have heard it completely differently and if we want to get to the heart of Jesus’ teaching, we have to bear this in mind. In that particular context, a son should not get his inheritance unless his father was dead. So when this boy asks for his inheritance in advance, it is a slap in his dad’s face. It’s like saying: You are dead to me. I don’t care anything for you or your honor. And, of course, honor was extremely important. Furthermore, he’s the younger son and so he shouldn’t get his father’s inheritance anyway—that is for the older brother. But this kid doesn’t care about his big brother either, apparently. He’s dead to me too. I never liked him. That’s what his actions are emphatically saying.

Then, why doesn’t the father just say no to his arrogant, self-centered son? This is a terrible request and it doesn’t deserve to be granted. Yet, this good and loving father gives it to him. Perhaps you picture this story in your mind’s eye and you see the father reaching into his desk drawer or grabbing a shoebox out from under the bed and pulling out a sack of coins, which he hands to his son. Wait a minute. That’s not how it would have happened. The dad wouldn’t have had ready cash for his boy. No, the inheritance would have been the family farm, which had probably been in their family for generations. This piece of earth itself is the family treasure and the young man demands that at a major portion of it be put on the market so it will free up the money so he can get the hell out. This would have been heartbreaking for the father. I remember my grandfather talking about how he had to sell his farm and how it was a loss that he grieved as much as he did the death of his parents. In the ancient Middle East, land meant much more. So this is really a double-whammy for the dad. He’s losing his land, which is his life-force and on top of that he’s losing his own son who has declared him dead.

We don’t know if there’s a mom in this story. There certainly could be but because it’s a parable and her role isn’t important, she isn’t mentioned. If Mom is part of this conversation, you can be sure she’s weeping bitter tears. It’s even worse for her. Not only is she losing her land, and her son, she’s losing a piece of security as well. Women could not own land then. So when her husband dies, the land will go right to the sons and now that she’s only got one son left, she’s in a very vulnerable position. If something happens to that son, she’s going to end up homeless and destitute. The younger son is aware of this but he slaps her in the face too—completely unconcerned about her and her needs.

Finally, with his dad’s money in hand, the young son trots off into the wide world to make his fortune. But you know this parable, so you know it doesn’t work out for him. Jesus spares us the details but we do find out that he makes some poor decisions and thereby wastes his father’s precious money. Not only that, he loses it to Gentiles, which to Jews was a no no. He might has well have ripped up his birth certificate and flushed it down the toilet. This was a grave offense. In fact, there was a ceremony that Jewish villages would have for people foolish enough to lose their money to Gentiles. In that ceremony, they would declare the person “cut off” and unable to resume their place in the community. Ever. The person would be declared dead.

So here’s the younger son. He’s wasted the inheritance he never should have asked for in the first place and he winds up feeding pigs on a farm. Now to the Jewish audience to which Jesus told this parable, feeding pigs was the lowest a person could stoop. Pigs, of course, are considered unclean. And not only is the son feeding the pigs, but he’s jealous of them! He wishes he could dine on their slop because it’s better than what he’s eating. Even today, we cringe at such a thought.

Then, it says that he came to himself. Does this mean he recognized his sinfulness and repented in his heart? Oh, it’s possible, but it seems more likely that the kid was just plain hungry. He knows that back at the family farm, the hired hands are treated better than he’s being treated. Even that would be a step up from this! After how bad he’s been, he knows he shouldn’t set foot back in his hometown, but he’s desperate. So he heads back, rehearsing a very self-serving speech.

And here comes the shocking ending. Before the prodigal son even gets to the gate—while he is still far off—his father sees him and is filled with compassion. Now Aristotle once said that “great men never run in public.” Yet, the father is so overwhelmed with joy, that he runs. He runs, perhaps even sprints, to get to his boy. He throws his arms around his son— his rebellious son—who hasn’t so much as apologised. The father kisses him right there on the road in front of everybody. This sort of thing shouldn’t be done, but father throws propriety to the wind. All that matters to him his restoring his relationship with his beloved son. He doesn’t care how bad this boy has been or how very much it has grieved his heart. This is his son and his love for his son has not been diminished. He welcomes him wholeheartedly.

Now the parable could stop right here and we’d say, “Oh, what a happy ending.” But it goes on. The father, it seems to us, goes a little overboard.

“Get him my best robe and put it on!” He shouts. “Get him a ring for his finger, sandals for his feet! My son is home! Go and kill the fatted calf. We’re having a celebration for the whole town!”

Okay, okay, already, we get it. Dad’s excited about his kid coming home. But right about now, you and I start to get a little annoyed with the father. What’s his deal? Why’s he going so nuts for then ne’er-do-well son. Yeah, it’s his son but he’s messed up. He’s sinned about as much as a person can sin. How dare he even show his face in this town—this town that, by rights, should be organizing the cut-him-off ceremony? He’s got some nerve. And gullible ol’ dad has taken the bait and has not only welcomed him, but has gone completely over the top about it. If we think about it, we can get downright disgusted.

Ah, but that’s just what Jesus was trying to teach. Because he, then, launches into the part about the older brother who gets wind of this welcome home party. He grows so angry, he won’t even go in the house. So he’s standing outside in the yard, presumably with his arms folded in front of him and his lip stuck out. He reminds us of Jonah who was so angry at God for forgiving the Ninevites that he sat outside the city and declared he was angry enough to die. The older brother is just about that hot-buttered. And he has a right to be. He’s been there all along, working alongside his father. He never asked for his inheritance ahead of time. For the love of God, he’s the GOOD son. Dad never threw me a party like this, he mutters to himself. Yet my pig-loving sinner brother is getting the royal treatment! It’s outrageous.

And here’s the thing: most of us can relate more to the older brother than we can the younger brother. After all, we’re here in church this morning. We’re so responsible that we remembered to set our clocks ahead last night so we could be here at church like we’re supposed to be. What’s Jesus trying to say with this parable? Is he saying that God—represented by the father in the parable—loves the big-time sinners with the same passion God loves you and me? Oh come on! Even those people who have messed up and ruined lives and returned to their sins again and again? How could that be? It makes us want to fold our arms and go stand out in the yard with the elder brother. We don’t deserve to be treated this way.

The father hears about the elder son’s defiance. By rights, Dad should have ignored him and stayed at the party. He’s the host. He should not leave his guests. But in the same way he reached out to the younger son, he now reaches out to the elder son. He goes to him and he gently assures him that he has just as much love for his elder son as he does for the younger son. That’s where the story ends. There’s no conclusion. We don’t know if the elder son goes in or not! It’s a cliffhanger. We want to tune in next season and find out who shot JR!

But Jesus leaves it unfinished on purpose because that’s where you and I enter into the story. It’s a write your own ending kind of thing. Jesus has confronted us with the news that the grace of God is much bigger than we thought and that there is love enough for us all. Like the elder brother, it’s hard for us to tolerate God’s tolerance. We want God’s love all to ourselves. But that’s not how it works. God wants to spread the love and reconciliation far and wide and that’s just what God’s going to do.

So here we stand—outside in the yard, feeling pretty put out. But there’s a party going on inside. It’s the best party ever. We didn’t deserve an invitation any more than anyone else, and yet we got one. The question is, will stay out here with our self-righteousness or will we decide come in? Let’s write a good ending to this story for ourselves, huh?

GATHERED UNDER GOD'S WINGS

2010-02-28T16:49:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 13: 31-35

In this morning’s gospel text, we have one of the strangest juxtapositions of animal imagery. That’s right: we have talk of a fox and a hen within two verses of one another. You remember the old children’s story of the crafty sly fox and the little red hen? These two opposites have often been put together in stories because they are natural foes in the animal kingdom, kind of like cats and dogs.

But why would Luke, our storyteller here, put these images together? What is he trying to teach us?

Well, it begins when the Pharisees come and offer a friendly word of warning that Herod is plotting to kill Jesus. He responds by saying: “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed away from Jerusalem.’” Yes, Herod is a sly fox. He is the predator who sees Jesus as a threat and wants to get rid of him. He’s just as we would expect a fox to be. There’s nothing out of the ordinary with this image.

But then, Jesus bursts into a surprising public lament. He bemoans the state of the city, crying “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

This is rather shocking on a number of levels. First of all, Jesus is very demonstrative of his emotions. For those who are used to keeping a stiff upper lip, it is a bit disarming that Jesus, our role model, would let his feelings show with such abandon. Perhaps he is even weeping as he utters these words. He is clearly shaken by the disobedience to God and the cruelty of the people of Jerusalem.

To know Jesus is to know God. So this is telling us how much God hurts for the world, how much God’s heart aches when we turn away and follow other things, when we choose self-centeredness and injustice. It tells us how much God longs for us to return. It is shocking that God is so passionate about us.

The second thing that surprises that he likens himself to a mother hen. Did we hear that right? He compares himself to a female chicken? What in the world are we supposed to do with this bizarre image? Chickens, as you know, just aren’t that glamorous and for those who are fixed on the maleness of Jesus, this feminine metaphor can be a stumbling block. But for now, let’s try to look past these barriers to our understand and open our minds to what Jesus is saying to us.

First, let’s deal with the hen thing. When we know that Herod—the fox—is out to get Jesus, we would rather Jesus be a wolf or some other powerful predator who can take care of that nasty fox. Instead, he calls himself a hen. We all know what short work foxes make of hens. In so doing, he shows his vulnerability.

But it is this very vulnerability that makes Jesus so spectacular. He says, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.” Have you ever seen a mother hen do this? Apparently, the mother has a wonderful ability to scoop up her little chicks and tuck them right under her wings where they will be safe. When the wee ones peep out and try to make a run for it, she simply scoops them back in where they can nestle securely, unaware of the dangers of the outside world.

What an amazing tenderness this show us! Jesus longs to gather us under the loving wings of the eternal God. Isn’t there something incredibly moving about this idea? Isn’t there something deep within us that yearns to be gathered in by the cosmic mother hen? Don’t we hunger for this kind of incorruptible love?

But Jesus goes on to say to the people of Jerusalem, “but you were not willing!” It reminds us that our hearts are divided. Even though a part of us may long to run to the wings of our Savior, another part of us is stubborn and completely unwilling. We’d rather go anywhere but God. Martin Luther described this as being saint and sinner at the same time.

We, like Jerusalem, are not willing. Yet, Jesus goes to the cross for us anyway. He becomes the vulnerable lamb of God for our sake. He subjects himself to the wicked fox. And in emptying himself in this way, he is glorified. Jesus triumphs over sin and death and with this victory in hand, he continues to long for us. He desperately wants to gather us under his wings, despite our unwillingness.

And so in this season of Lent when we are focused upon repentance, we have to look at this scripture and say: what is it asking me to change? Clearly it is telling us that we need to allow ourselves to be gathered up under God’s wings. So often, people find themselves hard to love, hard to forgive. They beat themselves up about every last thing and then wonder why they are unhappy. This scripture tells us that this kind of self-loathing is unnecessary and destructive. Godyearns to draw us under the wings of love no matter what we’ve done. There is always another opportunity to return home. First, we must allow ourselves to be loved.

Secondly, we are invited to let this all encompassing love spill out into the rest of our lives, so that we can give the kind of amazing love that God gives to us. This is such a simple message and you’ve heard this theme running through scripture again and again. Yet, we have a new opportunity to really do it. It makes all the difference in the world.

Let me give you an example. One of the families in my internship congregation experienced a life-changing event 104 days ago. Their young adult son, Grayson, had a heart “event” that may have starved his brain of oxygen for up to 11 minutes. Amazingly, he lived through it. At first, he was confined to a bed where he was on oxygen and a feeding tube doing nothing but thrash about, unable to comprehend a thing. Imagine the pain and suffering his parents went through to see their talented, young college graduate suddenly in this condition! Yet, with many prayers and much hard work, Grayson has made tremendous progress toward recovery and is now in a long-term rehabilitation facility where each he can do many things for himself and each day, he learns new skills.

Just yesterday his mother, Regina, wrote in their blog that she attended her 40th high school class reunion. She had tried to talk herself out of it, thinking that instead she should be driving the 2 hours north to see Grayson over the weekend. In the end, however, she went. And this is what she wrote.

“I admit I was looking forward to seeing these classmates after 40 years but I was unprepared for how much it affected me. I walked into a room of 59-year old women and immediately felt surrounded by love. Word of Grayson's situation had already spread among them (thanks to Facebook), the years disappeared and we shared that unique wrinkle in time that you only experience a few times in life. The outpouring of love and prayers made me feel part of something larger than high school, larger than the common experience of parenthood. By no means was I the only one in the room whose life has taken a huge left turn. The room was filled with the challenges of parents, children, health, employment and faith. For one afternoon we felt we were all in this together. For one afternoon these were not just classmates from 40 years ago but we were sisters in life loving each other and praying for each other."

I believe Regina was being held in the wings of God through the compassion and understanding of her classmates. That’s what we need to realize. Every time we care selflessly about someone, we are allowing God to speak to them through us! We can bless people more than we ever though possible if we just nestle into God’s wings and live from that place of security and love.

In this season of Lent, let us tune our hearts to that love, let us listen for the voice of God amid the babble of our daily lives. We are beckoned by God to live in those feathery wings, to be willing to receive the love which God offers us in Jesus and courageously share it. Amen.

Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

THE WORD IS NEAR

2010-02-21T12:32:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent

Pastor Laura Gentry

Romans 10:8b-13

The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart" (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved. The scripture says, "No one who believes in him will be put to shame." For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. For, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved."

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

It’s Lent. That means it’s time to focus on repentance. Well, what are repenting from? Sin, of course. But what does that mean to us in our modern society. Sin is not a very vogue word anymore and so I think it is helpful for us to talk about sin this morning so we can make sure we are all on the same page. What do we mean when we say “sin”?

In early Christian times, the church sought to define sin and found that they could classify all sin into seven categories, which came to be known as the seven deadly sins. The final list included: wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony.

Donald Capps, professor of pastoral care at Princeton Theological Seminary, recently conducted an interesting study about the attitudes that people hold about these “deadly sins” and restored “melancholy” to the list, thus bringing the amount of sins to eight.

Here is how Capps defines each of the sins. As I explain them, I invite you to think about what this study asked people to answer. First, which sin do you consider to be the most serious, the most harmful? And secondly, with which sin do you struggle the most?

Anger: An angry or resentful attitude reflected in feelings of intense hostility, vengefulness and inner rage

Apathy: An apathetic attitude toward life, reflected in an indifference toward the needs and aspirations of others

Envy: A persisting envy of another person who enjoys advantages of attention and recognition that one wants for oneself

Gluttony: Addictive habits, like excessive or erratic eating or drinking, which cause oneself and others misery

Greed: A consuming desire for wealth or affluence (or for the security material things promise)

Lust: A sexual attitude that treats other persons as objects

Melancholy: A personal bitterness toward life; hatred and disgust for the world and the people with whom one associates

Pride: A self-centered attitude of continually expecting or demanding praise and adulation

So of these types of sin—anger, apathy, envy, gluttony, greed, lust, melancholy, and pride—which do you consider the most serious and with which do you most struggle?

Capps’ findings were interesting. For both clergy and laity, pride and envy were at the bottom of the list for the seriousness of sins. They considered them the least offensive. Yet, ironically, these were the top to sins they admitted to struggling with. Yes, the sins of pride and envy plague most Christians.

Capps explains that since people don’t consider these sins to be that serious, they don’t necessarily feel much guilt about having pride and envy. However, they do feel shame about it.

They feel shame because they have high ideals for their lives. They think they ought to be able to accomplish everything they put their minds to, especially in relationships. They think they can be all things to all people. And it turns out they can’t. And so they feel bad about themselves for having fallen short of their own ideals.

This makes people feel drained and depleted. They desperately hunger for recognition and admiration but live with a gnawing sense of defeat and failure. In short, they feel miserable because of their own inadequacy. They are ashamed of themselves.

So what do we do with ourselves when we find ourselves in this boat? When we feel depleted and don’t know how we got this away? Even looking at scripture can contribute to this. For example, in today’s gospel lesson we see Jesus standing up to the devil. Without food, out in the desert, he still has the stamina to beat the devil at his own game every time and resist temptation. We think how unlike Jesus we are because we haven’t that kind of spiritual strength. And that can push us further into our shame.

Yet, we also have some amazingly helpful words from Paul in our Epistle reading. He is upset at how how the people are seeking to establish their own righteousness. Isn’t that what we’re doing when we feel ashamed about not living up to our high ideals? We don’t need to be the perfect people we think we can be, he explains. “For Christ is the end of the law so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes." By this end, he means fulfillment. Christ has fulfilled the law on our behalf.

Christ has done for us what we cannot do for ourselves and his righteousness can be our righteousness no matter what deadly sins plague us. How? By believing and calling upon his name.

That’s the whole deal as Paul tells it. We don’t need to go around puffed up with pride trying to winkle a little bit more appreciation out of people so we’ll feel better about ourselves. We don’t have to get jealous when we see other getting more recognition than we do. These sins stem from the needy, shameful self and they can’t fill our emptiness. They come from the heart of the person who feels unloved.

Yet God loved us so much that he sent his Son, Jesus to be our righteousness of for us. Jesus came to complete the law for us. If we just believe in Jesus and call upon him to help us, we will be saved. That is love. That is pure love. That is what we are hungering for in our heart of hearts.

Paul writes that this love is not far off. He says "The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart." We can grasp the eternal love of God in Christ simply be believing in our hearts and calling to him with our mouths. Salvation is right here. Love is right here. The remedy for our emptiness is right here. Right now.

Oh, can’t we see it? Can’t we grasp it? That’s what this season of repentance is designed for. It’s not here to make us feel more guilt or shame than we already bear. It is to help us see that we don’t have to go on living this way. We can trade in our emptiness for joy. We can admit that we need Christ’s righteousness because we can’t earn it by our own good living. We can reach out and grab onto our dear savior with all our hearts and ask him for salvation. The word is so, so near. Why don’t we just call out to him?

Let us pray: Jesus, we cry to you. You know that our own attempts at happiness have failed us again and again. We simply cannot live up to our own ideals. We fall short and end up feeling depleted and needy. Yet you came to save us. Help us to see that your love and your righteousness are so near to us. We reach out to you again. We believe you. Lord Jesus, save us. Amen.

AMAZINGLY ALIVE

2010-02-18T06:23:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for Ash Wednesday

Pastor Laura Gentry

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Ash Wednesday is the warning trumpet that sounds the alarm: you are going to die! Tonight, you will be invited to come forward to be marked with ashes and the words “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” No wonder our worship attendance isn’t as great tonight as it undoubtedly will be on Easter morning. Ash Wednesday is difficult. Painful. It calls to mind the harsh truth that we are mere mortals and nothing we can accomplish in our lives will change that. We are dust and we await the inevitable: that we will become dust again.

Yes, it is tempting to just skip this service and the whole 40 days of repentance thing. But you are here tonight, perhaps because you understand there’s something unique in this service—in the ritual of the ashes—and in the journey of Lent.

The American Poet Wallace Stevens wrote: “Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams And our desires.”

What are your dreams? Your desires? How does your impending death compel you to accomplish them? Yes, death is the mother of beauty. Isn’t that what we are saying tonight by our willingness to be here and have ashes smeared onto our foreheads?

Life is fragile and fleeting. When we stare death in the face, we come to a new appreciation for the role of faith in our lives. Our vulnerability drives us into the arms of God and there we find the fulfillment of our dreams and desires.

The season of Lent is about repentance, of turning away from our sin. Many think of it as a dreadful time when we must deny ourselves particular worldly pleasures. Certainly fasting, prayer and almsgiving are the traditional Lenten disciplines and are helpful in this season of repentance. Yet to repent is not just to turn away from sin—it is about turning toward God. That is the beauty of this season.

You see, the irony is that we begin this season talking about death and this helps us turn toward God who makes us amazingly alive. It is about participating in our own resurrection and not just our eternal resurrection that happens after we die, but about our resurrected life in the here and now. This Lenten journey is a journey from death to life.

As you know, our former church musician and friend, Ben Larson, died in Haiti at age 25, just months before his graduation from seminary. Again, we are reminded that life is short. Yet, Ben knew the joy of living the resurrected life each and every step of his way on earth. And in those final moments of his life, even when his life was at an end, his wife could hear him under the rubble singing. Yes, Ben spent his last breaths singing. The final phrase she heard from him was: "God's peace to us we pray.” Ben could sing of God’s peace even in this dark moment because he knew Jesus. Jesus had become his song that he sang by his joyful, faithful living.

One of Ben’s favorite hymns was “Lord Jesus, You Shall Be My Song” and he had requested that it be sung at his funeral “some day,” not knowing his death was so imminent. And so when his body was recovered and brought to Decorah for his funeral and internment, this hymn was sung.

I would like to sing it for you now because I think it illustrates the goal of Lent: that we turn away from sin and death and into the arms of Jesus who will not just love us every step of our journey, but will be our song.

Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey;

I'll tell ev'rybody about you wherever I go:

you alone are our life and our peace and our love.

Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey.

Lord Jesus, I’ll praise you as long as I journey;

May all of my joy be a faithful reflection of you,

May the earth and the sea and the sky join my song.

Lord Jesus, I’ll praise you as long as I journey.

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant;

to carry your cross and to share

all your burdens and tears,

For you saved me by giving your body and blood.

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant.

I fear in the dark and the doubt of my journey;

but courage will come with the sound

of your steps by my side.

And with all of the family you saved by your love,

we'll sing to your dawn at the end of our journey.

Let us enter fully into the repentance of Lent, with Jesus as our song that we may be amazingly alive. God’s peace to us we pray. Amen.

DEEP WATER

2010-02-07T09:00:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Epiphany

Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 5:1-11

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

In today’s Gospel lesson, we hear the story of Jesus calling Simon Peter to become his disciple. Now this poor guy has been working all night to catch fish and he’s a professional fisherman—he’s not just doing this for fun like many of you. If he doesn’t catch fish, perhaps his family won’t eat. He is very disheartened at this point.

Then along comes Jesus. He’s already got a following and people are pressing on him to hear the word. So Jesus jumps into Simon’s boat—presumably without even asking permission. He asks him to set out a bit from the shore and then preaches from there as it it is his floating pulpit.

After this, he tells Simon Peter to put out into deep water and let his news down for a catch. Of course Simon is reluctant to do so as it seems to him like a rather dumb idea. Why would they catch fish now? They haven’t caught any all night. It must be one of those weird no-fish days. But he agrees because Jesus seems to be a person of authority.

And it is a good thing he agrees because there are immediate results! Their nets catch so many fish that they begin to break. This is an enormous amount of fish.

Archeologists recently uncovered a fishing boat from that region and era that was 26.5 feet long, 7.5 feet wide, and 4.5 feet high. In fact, my dad just saw it during his visit to the Holy Land. We must assume that this was about the size of Simon Peter’s boat. People in those days were smaller and most stood no taller than 5’5”, which made the boats extremely deep for them, with great capacity to hold fish. This story says that two boats were so filled with fish that they began to sink. Indeed, this is a phenomenal amount of fish.

It so impresses Simon Peter that he recognizes the divinity of Jesus. This is his “aha” moment—his epiphany. Immediately, he becomes afraid of Jesus’ holiness. He says: "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" Like Isaiah and Paul, whose callings we heard about in our other readings this morning, he does not feel worthy to be called by the God of the Universe. But Jesus isn’t really interested in taking no for an answer. He presses him: "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." And so Simon Peter and his friends leave their boats and everything else to answer this calling.

Perhaps it is difficult to imagine just how difficult this must have been for them. Simon and James and John leave everything and go with Jesus without so much as a good bye. Did they have wives? Children? Homes? Businesses to run? We really don’t know. But they left it all behind for the sake of following Jesus. Don’t think for a minute that this was easy for them.

And here we are in the midst of the Epiphany season, reading this text in worship. So the question is: what are we to take from this Gospel passage? How can it inform us in our journey? Well like the texts we examined last week, it asserts that God calls us all to follow. We don’t remember applying for the job but that’s no deterrent. Jesus wants us. He won’t take no for an answer. He doesn’t accept the “I’m not qualified” excuse. He wants us. And he wants us right now to follow him and to learn how to “fish for people.”

That’s really the mission of the church, isn’t it? After all, Simon Peter is the rock upon whom Jesus built the church. And from the get-go, Simon had to fish for people.

What does this calling mean for us? How are we to be fishers of people? This story reminds me of Mother Teresa. She was certainly someone who heard the call of God and dropped everything to go and serve. Many times people would approach her and talk about how they longed to move to India also, so they could work at her side in serving the poor. Many romanticized how great it would be to work in the trenches like she did. But she would tell them: “No, stay where you are. Stay right here and love the people God has given you to love. Care for people right where you are.”

This is very helpful advise because we often think that we can’t do much to “fish for people” unless we were to go do global mission or enroll in seminary or something dramatic like that. Mother Teresa, however, believed that you can bloom where you’re planted. Right here, right now, reach out to the people you are near. That’s a tip we can use.

Nevertheless, even if we don’t move to a different country or take on a new career as an evangelist, we have a tough job. Just as Jesus urged Simon Peter to move out his normal fishing spot and put out into deep water, he calls us to deep water. By this, it means we are to move out of our comfort zones, to do whatever is needed in order to share the Gospel and be “fishers of people.”

Now the expression “you are in deep water” also means that you are in a difficult circumstance. I would have to agree that Jesus probably meant that too. He calls us to go into deep water. This means we must trust God more fully, risk more wholeheartedly. And this is hard for us. We don’t like taking a new step. We don’t like the unknown. In fact, scientists who study the subconscious mind tell us that the subconscious equates the unknown with pain and therefore, it tries really hard to steer us away from doing unknown things. Of course it is scary, but no one said faith was easy. As the disciples found, it is a risk we cannot afford not to take.

So once we get past our own emotional hurdles and we are really determined to learn from Jesus how to be fishers of people, what do we do? It is quite a task. Many church evangelism strategies have been developed over the years as people have attempted to find the best formula for catching people for Jesus. I am not convinced there is a “best one” out there. It is not about having the right sales tactic or the best glossy brochures. It is about really connecting with people and conveying our enthusiasm that will win hearts and minds.

I once had a bishop tell me that the best evangelism is a two step process that can be described in two words: share and invite.

First we must share our faith with others. Think about how you would answer the following questions. What is God doing in my life? How does my faith shape me? Am I enthusiastic about it? Why?

Today we have lots of ways to get the word out besides just talking with people face to face. A new study found that kids age 8-18 are spending virtually all their free time using some form of digital device whether it’s being on the computer, listening to digital music or texting. On average, these kids are spending 7 1/2 hours a day doing this. That’s why I’m on facebook. I’m able to connect with young people and some not-so-young people as well. The pope recognizes that social networking sites are a good evangelism tool. He’s started his own website and is on facebook too and he encourages priests to get blogging. You know it’s about doing whatever it takes to share our faith.

Once we have expressed the joy that is within us as a result of our relationship with God, the second step is easy: invite. Invite others to come revel in the good news. We don’t need to hard-sell them. We just need to share and invite and trust the Holy Spirit to do the rest.

It’s not easy! We are called out into deep water the sake of the gospel. Let’s summon the courage to put out into that water and cast the nets of God’s love far and wide. Amen.

I AM WITH YOU TO DELIVER YOU

2010-01-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY, YEAR C

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Jeremiah 1:4-10

I don’t have enough experience.

I’m just not that talented.

I think I’m too young.

I’m scared to death of public speaking.

I really don’t have the confidence for this.

I would hate to be rejected.

Can’t you get somebody else for the job? Please!

This is just a glimpse of the litany of excuses the prophets of God have issued. Moses thought he was unable to speak and altogether unexperienced at leading Exoduses. Isaiah was overwhelmed with his own sense of sin. Even Jesus was rejected by his hometown folks. In today’s gospel we hear how he was nearly hurled off the cliff by them.

The prophet’s job has never been easy. No one ever applies for this position. Nevertheless, God has continued to pluck ordinary people out of their everyday lives and equip them for the tremendous task of being a prophet. They all fuss and complain and protest and try to winkle out of it. But God will have none of it. God is perfectly confident in the ability of these regular folks because God infuses them with divine power and wisdom.

That’s certainly the case for the prophet Jeremiah. We hear about his call to ministry in our first lesson for today. God says to him: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” A prophet to the nations. Yes, his prophesy will have not just local but global impact.

It seems his work is all cut out for him, but like others who have been called, Jeremiah asserts that he’s not qualified. His primary excuse is that he can’t speak because he’s too young. “I’m just a boy!” he whines.

Nope. That alibi isn’t going to fly with God. There is no need to fret about this or any other shortcomings Jeremiah may have. “For I am with you,” God assures him, “to deliver you.” His job will not be easy but each and every step of the way, God will be accompanying him—giving him the very words to speak. Then, God actually touches his lips to assure him that the words he will need to speak in his prophetical career will be provided for him. This is not just a pep talk encouraging Jeremiah that he can do it. It is, instead, a promise that God’s true presence will be with him at all times. And because of this, there is truly no need for Jeremiah to fear even though he will be running headlong into difficult circumstances.

He does have a bit of a hard time, by the way. Jeremiah has to speak out against Jerusalem for their worship of idols and false prophets and other violations of God’s covenant with the chosen people. He acurately predicts the fall of Jerusalem—which is not music to anybody’s ears. Inevitably, doing God’s work puts him at odds with just about everybody, including his own family and prevents him from marrying or starting a family of his own. Like Jesus, he finds out that it is hard to be accepted as a prophet in your own hometown. Jeremiah becomes known as the “weeping prophet” and gets mad at God frequently. He suffers so much that he wishes he’d never been born.

Despite it all, however, Jeremiah stands firm. He continues to boldly proclaim the words God gives to him (yes, God gives him the words as promised). And, indeed, he is not destroyed by those who oppose him. God’s promise to deliver him also remains good.

This is good news since God has promised each of us the same thing. We are pretty good at grumbling like our ancestors in the faith. We are all too quick to admit our inadequacies and claim that we’re not up for the job. Yet God won’t let us off the hook. I formed you, God says to you and me. I knew you. I set you apart. I appointed you.

What does that mean to you? As people of faith, we believe that God has called us and that there is a specific use for the gifts we possess. We are incredibly special. God does not want us to shrink from our responsibility. We are called to go forth in faith despite our doubts and anger. We each have the potential to make a huge difference and God has plans for us.

And just what is plan—that mission—God wants us to accomplish? I think contemporary author Parker Palmer, explains it quite well in this statement:

“The mission of the church is not to enlarge its membership, not to bring outsiders to accept its terms, but simply to love the world in every possible way—to love the world as God did and does.…If we are able to love the world, that will be the best demonstration of the truth which the church has been given.”

Yes, we are called to love and not just a little. We are to love with all that is within us. And why not? As we read in I Corinthians, without love we are just a clanging gong with no purpose at all. In the end, love is the most important thing we can do with our lives. My family is still in the process of deciding what to do with my mom’s things. As I sort through her possessions, I am more and more aware of how insignificant they are. They are just things. What is important is the love she gave us. That’s what counts. Life is short. How we live it matters a lot.

And so we are given a choice. Will we answer God’s call? Will we allow ourselves to be mouthpieces of the divine? Will we believe in God’s power so fiercely that it overcomes our fear of failure? Will we trust that God is always with us to deliver us? Will we be the hands of Jesus reaching out to love the world?

I invite you to answer these questions by singing the hymn of the day: “Here I am, Lord.”

EAT OF THE FAT, DRINK OF THE WINE

2010-01-24T10:00:00.000-08:00

A Sermon for the Third Sunday in Epiphany

Pastor Laura Gentry

Nehemiah 8:1-10

When we take a look at our church’s prayer list, we can see that in our own community people are facing some extremely difficult things. Their pain, their suffering, their heartache is all too real.

Unfortunately, this is nothing new for the people of God. In our first lesson from Nehemiah today, we hear Ezra addressing a heartbroken congregation. Their land—the holy land promised to their ancestors by God himself—has been vehemently sacked by pagan invaders. How awful, how unbelievable, how humiliating is that? It becomes one of the most traumatic events in Jewish history. Many are forced off their land to go live in exile. When they eventually do get to return nearly 50 years later, they are still under foreign occupation. This time, it is the Persians, who unlike the Babylonians, allow the Jews limited freedom of religion. They can rebuild their temple but there is so much rebuilding to do that it seems impossible. Even the prophet Nehemiah gets depressed. He weeps, mourns, fasts and prays for days. But then he takes action and rallies the faithful to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.

In today’s passage, the people gather after this rebuilding effort to hear Ezra read from the law of Moses. This is not a short reading like a the hour-long-church-service-format we’re accustomed to today. No, he reads to them from early morning until midday. The exile-survivors who hear it have a new understanding of the Mosaic law and how they had transgressed it as a nation. They are overwhelmed with grief. They weep and fall onto their faces to worship God.

Then Nehemiah says: “This day is holy to the Lord; do not mourn or weep,” because that’s exactly what they are doing as he says this. “Go, eat of the fat, drink of the wine, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

And POOF! They do it. Off they go to have a great big festival where they will indeed, eat, drink and send portions to those in need.

But wait a minute, that’s crazy! They are just a remnant of what they used to be as a nation. Even now with their return and the city walls rebuilt, they are hurting, grieving, facing insurmountable odds. Now they are supposed to just prance off and have a party because “the joy of the Lord” is their strength? You have to understand that there is nothing sensible or logical about this bit of advise at all. It is ridiculous. How can God expect them to be happy at a time like this?

We can certainly wonder about this today. All the bad news keeps coming at us through the news sources 24 hours a day: one disaster after another, political disagreements, economic woes. It never stops. And all this on top of our own problems! Depression runs rampant. In fact, the World Health Organization rates depression as the fourth greatest cause of human suffering and disability in the world. How can God expect us to be happy at a time like this? And yet God does. We are commanded to eat of the fat and drink of the wine, and share it generously for the joy of the Lord is our strength. That’s the message of this scripture. The joy is OURS. It is for our time and place as much as it was for the ancient people of God.

"The greatest honor we can give Almighty God," wrote the English mystic Juliana of Norwich, "is to live gladly because of the knowledge of his love." No matter how bleak our personal circumstances or the state of the world, God’s love is more powerful. That’s why God commands us to be joyful. It is not that God is being insensitive to our plight or somehow doesn’t understand how bad things are for us. No, we are expected to be happy because our faith informs us that the joy of the Lord will blossom even in the desert of our lives. To be happy, therefore, is a sign of faith. It is, after all, a fruit of the Spirit.

The French Nobel laureate André Gide (1869–1951) wrote: "Joy is rarer, more difficult, and more beautiful than sadness. Once you make this all-important discovery, you must embrace joy as a moral obligation." A moral obligation? Have you ever thought of joy as being that important? Well, scripture tells us that it is.

So does science. In 2008, the findings of a 20 year study were released. They reported that happiness is contagious. Nicholas Christakis, a professor of medical sociology at Harvard Medical School in Boston and James Fowler, a political scientist at the University of California, San Diego teamed up to do this study. The results were amazing. They showed that your happiness affects others. If you are happy, in fact, your friends are 15% more likely to be happy! That means that you make a difference even if you don’t realize it.

And not only are your friends affected by your happiness—your friends’ friends are too. If you are happy, your friends’ friends are 10% more likely to be happy. And even the next degree is affected. If you are happy, your friends’ friends’ friends are 6% more likely to be happy. That means your happiness goes out at least as far as third-degree-removed friends. Incredible!

This is important because happiness has measurable benefits. It has been shown to have an important effect on reduced mortality, pain reduction, and improved cardiac function. Health and happiness are inextricably linked.

Interestingly, there was a study done in 1984 that found having an additional income of $5,000 increased a person’s change of becoming happier by about 2%. Now if a happy friend increases our chance of being happy by 15%, then you could estimate that a happy friend is worth over $37,000. Wouldn’t it be great if you were so rich that you could just run around and give each of your friends $37,000 without even denting your pocketbook? Well, you can give them the equivalent boost by being happy.

No wonder André Gide said it is a moral imperative to be joyful! We need to be joyful not just for our own sake, but for the sake of others. We can bless the world through our own faith-filled joy.

Yes, God speaks to us today through the words of Nehemiah: “Go, eat of the fat, drink of the wine, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

Let us pray:
God of Love, we believe that you give to us the fruit of Joy and that it is our strength, especially in difficult times. Even so, it is not easy to live in this joy and to spread it to those in our lives. Transform our sorrow into gladness, we pray, that we may live as you want us to live—being radiant over your goodness all our lives. Help us to celebrate and share your love always. Amen.

© 2010 Laura Gentry