A Faith Beyond Answers

Do you treat God like a Magic 8 Ball in the sky?

John 2:23-3:15 inspires today's blog post.

Have you ever put your faith on the line? I mean have you ever said something like, “God, I know you are there, but I will really believe in you if you can just ________________.” You might have filled in the blank with cure a friend or family member from a disease or maybe it was something as simple as to help you remember where you last had your keys. Maybe you do not have a prayer life like this, but sometimes I hear people say that the most common time that they pray is when their favorite team is losing, when the paycheck needs to stretch just a little bit further, or when something has not gone according to their plans.

On the one hand, there is nothing wrong with this type of praying. I think, at least this person turns to God to say a prayer. Yet on the other hand, I wonder what kind of Faith does this develop? Is God simply a magic 8 ball in the sky? Are we just looking for some sort of sign that God loves us and believes that we are special?

“Many believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing,” John’s Gospel account confirms that this type of behavior even happened when Jesus himself was walking the earth. If we though, are spending our time praying for miracles to happen are we learning how to rely upon God, or are we becoming “back seat prayers,” or rather “back seat prayer answerers” who believe that we know better than the Almighty what is best for us?

Jesus does not entrust himself to those who believed in the signs, not because they were bad people, but because they were more interested in the results of his miracle working than to where the signs were pointing. The Bible, our religious tradition, and our spirituality might be things that help to improve our lives in some qualitative way, but that is not what the Gospel is about. John’s account of the Gospel especially signifies that Jesus was the Word through whom all things were made, all things are redeemed, and all things will come to fulfillment!

Take for example the story of Nicodemus who sneaks to Jesus at night time in today’s gospel story. A Pharisee coming to see this upstart Jewish Rabbi under the cover of night meant that this religious leader had come to the end of his rope, and he was all out of answers. Yet, he did not want the rest of the Sanhedrin to spot him going somewhere else for help. So when he shows up on Jesus doorstep in the middle of the night he is looking for an easy answer, just like when we ask God to simply give us the response to our prayers on a silver platter. Nicodemus cannot understand what rebirth means in the same way that we often do not comprehend the fullness of God’s spirit dwelling with and in us.

It will not be until the middle of this John’s account of the Gospel that Nicodemus stands up to defend Jesus in the Sanhedrin, and it will not be until the John’s version of the good news that Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea take the broken body of Christ to be buried. We are always encouraged, but especially in the Season of Lent, to join in a pilgrimage walking ever closer to Christ. As we get nearer and nearer to the Almighty we understand that God knows our hopes, yearnings, and desires before we can even formulate them as a thought or express them with our lips. Eternal life comes from the one who was lifted up and we must focus not upon what we get from the Messiah, but rather the faith that flows from spending a lifetime in the nearness of Christ Jesus. Amen.

Jesus In A Tuxedo T-Shirt

"I like to picture Jesus in a tuxedo t-shirt. 'Cause it says I want to be formal, but I'm here to party too!" - Cal Naughton Jr. Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby

If you have not had the pleasure of seeing the ridiculous, irreverent, and side-splitting movie Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby the scene that is linked in the picture above (and here) will give you a taste of the uncomfortable and edgy humor that fills the 108 minute comedy. While I certainly cannot recommend the movie starring Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly as an edifying edition to anyone's spiritual discipline, I can say that this scene in particular helps me to playfully wrestle with my own and others' understanding of who Jesus is. In the scene the main characters of the movie fight over the version of Jesus to whom they are saying Grace. Is it the baby Jesus, teenage Jesus, bearded Jesus, tuxedo t-shirt Jesus, or some other version of Jesus that can most graciously hear our prayers?

We may find this moment of the movie and this debate laughable and so far from applicable in our understanding of Jesus; however, this coming Sunday's Gospel lesson from Mark 8 shows to me that even when the real Jesus walked the earth humans have struggled with how to understand him. Peter took Jesus aside and rebuked him when Jesus explained that the Son of Man must "undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again." Peter had his own image of what the Messiah would look like, but when Jesus explained all this the man formerly known as Simon went bizzerk.

Of course, Peter did not say that the Messiah would wear a tuxedo t-shirt or wear gold-plated diapers, but still his own belief about who the Son of Man would be kept him from seeing the truth about Jesus. How many times in our own lives do we hold so tightly to a belief about Jesus, or about God's nature in general that it keeps us from seeing something new about the Divine? God is beyond any of our understandings, and yet we continue to argue with one another often believing that someone else doesn't know who God is or that someone else's view of God is wrong! While God is intimately close to us we will never fully comprehend with our minds what it means to experience God, especially as we follow a suffering Messiah (how can that be?). In this season when we make our way to the Cross with Christ my hope rests not on my preconceived notions of who Christ is, but instead upon how God reveals Godself presently... tuxedo t-shirt or not!

We're Talking About Practice

"Not a game... Not a game, but PRACTICE!" Allen Iverson

This off the cuff sermon audio can be found by clicking here. We're not talking about a game Mr. Iverson, but practice!

Having One Purpose

In college I went through a Faith Crisis. Maybe you have experienced a period in life like my own. I began to question everything that I had previously held sacred from my beloved Episcopal Church to the Holy Scriptures. I reverted back to my two or three-year-old self, asking repeatedly, “But why?” to my longstanding beliefs about God existing, God loving me, and Jesus being my savior. Why is Jesus my Savior? That was the question that seemed to linger the longest without my having any progress towards an answer.

As an “invincible” and angst-y twenty-year-old I believed that I needed not a Savior. “From what is Jesus even saving me?” I questioned some friends who were also struggling with their faith. No ghouls, ghosts, or goblins attacked me. No struggle for existence happened. Maybe an existential dilemma or two, but comfortably I sat thinking that I needed not a Savior. At the time I could not comprehend or feel that what I need saving from was not something outside of myself, but something within me.

No beasts existed on the outside, but on the inside a monster lurked that all of us inevitably must face. That monster is the Truth: We are mortal. We are broken. We are sinful. And while I know that we are wonderfully made “very good” in God’s eyes, the lives we live so often distort our relationship with God, as we believe in our own divinity instead of God’s. Like the naïve twenty-something that I was, we sometimes must turn our backs on God scorching the forest that was our faith, so that God can grow something anew and we can realize that it is not we that saves ourselves.

Today is a day when we come face-to-face with our mortality, our brokenness, and our sinfulness. The fires may have subsided, but the ashes remain. The marks we will receive from those ashes on our foreheads keep in the forefront of our hearts and minds that we are not infinite, but merely dust. Yet, how do we honestly confront the truth of our existence? Some of us will take on Spiritual Practices that aid us in remembering the Truth. And yet, Jesus warns us to be mindful of how we go about this discipline.

Throughout the Sermon on the Mount, of which today’s Gospel lesson is a part, Jesus teaches of alms giving, praying, and fasting, as spiritual disciplines. These are ways that we can all build upon our relationship with God. Still a temptation exists in believing that these practices are for achieving some external merit. Even when we do our best, these spiritual disciplines have a way of manipulating our egos making us think we are better than we are.

Not too long after God had found me in the burned up Faith of my youth, I began discerning a call to ordained ministry. Every week I would sit with a mentor and we would discuss our spiritual lives. Inevitably whenever one of us said, “Man, my prayer life is kicking!” or “I am on a real roll spiritually!” that would be the moment when I would fall on my face or he would stumble in his walk with Christ. Again, I wondered why?

A quick glancing at today’s reading from Matthew might give us the impression that Jesus only warns about spiritual practices falling prey to hypocrisy. While hypocrisy remains a troubling attribute of Christianity, a deeper problem persists. Doing something for others to see, saying something and doing the perceived opposite, or being overly showy with religious gestures all seem detestable. Yet, that is not what my mentor or I were doing. We were simply sharing our faith journey, but that moment of saying, “I’m doing well,” took the concentration away from God. Digging deeper in today’s Gospel lesson, we discover that Jesus’ primary concern is one of intention.

Giving alms, praying and fasting do not exist as stepping stones, but rather they develop in themselves a deeper connection with God. Put another way, when we follow Christ’s warning the spiritual practices we choose are most beneficial when they possess an inborn connectivity with God. The point of giving alms, praying, or fasting is not to be seen, heard, or respected, but rather to be in the presence of the Almighty.

Giving up something during this season comes from a need to recognize our complete reliance upon God. Taking on a new discipline is not about also losing a few pounds or restarting a New Year’s resolution. Instead let the Spirit guide your Lenten Discipline, so that whatever it is you do or do not do will in and of itself push you to experience the transforming release of God’s grace. Does this mean we say nothing of our Lenten discipline?

Lent is a communal season for us and to practice Lent as a community remains a valuable gift of the Church. Yet in this time when we take on disciplines we must examine the purpose of what we are doing. Are we trying to save ourselves like I thought I could when I was younger, are we thinking about what others will say or think about whatever it is we are doing, or are we yearning to be in deeper communion with Father, Son, and Spirit?

Lent is a season when we practice storing up treasures not here on earth, but in heaven by returning and reconnecting with the Almighty. This is the one, pure purpose of our Lenten journey. If we are pious for the sake of power, control, affection, esteem, approval, pleasure, security, or even survival, then we are setting ourselves up to be cloth to a moth, metal to rust, or goods to a thief. We are mortal, we are broken, and we are sinful, but we have a Savior who yearns for us to grow closer. Not for the benefit of anyone or anything else, but because God loves you so dearly and yearns that you turn back to God!

Lenten Resources

Are you ready?

"He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him." Mark 1:13

"Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished." Matthew 4:1-2

"Where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished." Luke 4:2

Clearly the synoptic gospel accounts give us Jesus' precedent for beginning ministry: forty days of fasting, overcoming temptation by Satan, and at the end being famished. Yet, what if we start off the journey being famished? What if we are already starving spiritually? How do we feed ourselves in the spiritual desert that can so often be the world in which we live?

When I ask people how they are doing a lot of the time they respond, "Crazy busy!" I am not alone in observing this trait. I learned about it in seminary, my rector Evan Garner has spoken about it, and Rob Bell talks about it in this podcast. We tend to fill every ounce of our proverbial cup each day such that if something unexpected happens everything overflows spilling all over the place! Sometimes we see our chalice running over as an abundance of blessings; however, if we spend much of our free time engaged in unintentional activities (I am thinking of mindless Facebook, Twitter, Instagram sessions and binge watching an entire series of ______ in particular), then we have to make room by pushing to the side our priorities that ground us, feed us, and give us life.

We cannot feed ourselves. We must allow time for God to spiritually give us life. If we remain in a constant state of busy-ness, then the glass that is our life just seems to make a huge mess distracting us from the steady stream of God's sustenance. The example Jesus offered in the desert provides for us an alternative way to life and ministry (by the way, whether you know it or not you have a ministry... it's not just for us collared people).

Jesus began his ministry by getting rid of everything else that was not God. He found God in the wilderness. He grounded his life's work in the dirt, sand, and earth that was the desert. He removed everything even food, so that God alone sustained him. Faith in God apparently provides more than enough nutritional value to persist. So what? So we move out to live beneath a palm tree? Do we give up food for forty days? No, not exactly.

This season of Lent provides us an opportunity to recognize our faulty reliance on things that are not God and to add disciplines to our lives that bring us closer to God. These forty days officially begin this Wednesday, a day known as Ash Wednesday when we remember that we are only dust and to dust we shall return. St. John's Decatur has services with the imposition of ashes at 7:00 AM, 12:10 PM, and 6:00 PM. On this day we come come face-to-face with our mortality and begin on this journey with Christ. From then until Easter we find ways to declutter our lives such that what remains brings us into the intimate life of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. You might be wondering at this point, what should I do? I thought you would never ask. Here are some helpful resources:

-Lent Madness: A fun, informative, and enlightening group spiritual practice that is based on March Madness, the NCAA Championship Basketball Tournament.

-Society of St. John the Evangelist (SSJE): The brothers at SSJE provide videos and workbooks to remember that Lent is "Time to… Stop, Pray, Work, Play & Love!"

-Read something that reminds you of God's presence, grace, and love in your life. There are lots of resources from Church Publishing. Or, you can try something yourself, like reading the Chronicles of Narnia to reconnect with your childlike love of and wonder about the Divine.

-St. John's Decatur: Every day of Lent St. John's Decatur will offer a Lenten meditation that brings some insight on our journey with God. Click here to view our page (and if you enjoy it please like our page).

-Church offerings: Most Episcopal churches offer some program during Lent. St. John's has a Wednesday night program that begins at 5:30 with a meal. There are some churches with noteworthy offerings, in particular Nativity, Huntsville and The Cathedral of the Advent, Birmingham.

-40 Bags in 40 Days: This might seem ambitious, but if these 40 days are to remove distractions that keep us from God, then this practice of giving away material things might be a very fitting practice for some.

Some suggestions from my friend James Franklin from St. James, Wilmington, NC:

-Pray each day for some of your Facebook friends (# of friends/40).

-Ride a bike or walk to work.

-Go screenless outside of work.

-Pray Daily Office.

-Read a book a week cover to cover.

-Compost.

-Clean out inbox and keep it clean.

-Fast like a monk (sun up to sun down... drink a heavy beer at noon... wait, what?)

If you have other suggestions, feel free to add them in the comments section!

Glory Down the Mountain

If God is always on a mountain does that mean He's always hard to see?

Sermon audio can be found here.

Fog has a tendency to congregate on the peaks of mountains. I know this after spending seven years living on top of a high plateau. For what feels like days, weeks, and even months at a time, a mood-depressing mist can linger sticking to everything it touches. One’s entire field of vision takes on a type of grey, surreal obscurity and very little appears in focus. Higher elevations can even lead to altitude sickness, including migraines, diarrhea, and blurred sight. Despite all of this mountaintop moments remain a beloved catchall for spiritually exhilarating periods of our lives.

Mountains have since our earliest ancestors been the place where humans interact with the Divine. Whether we will admit it or not, we often imagine that God dwells somewhere among the clouds. Of course, this is not our fault. Everything about God seems cloudy. Our hymns reinforce this—think of our current Offertory, “From all who dwell below the skies, let the Creator’s praise arise” (Hymn 380, 1982 Hymnal). The Old Testament suggests this, as Moses exchanged messages with the Almighty on Sinai’s height and in today’s first lesson Elijah was swept up into the clouds by a chariot of fire. And of course, God names Jesus his beloved on a mountaintop. We get it God, you dwell up there, and we, well, we live down here.

Yet, even as Elijah zoomed off in a blaze of glory, Moses chatted with the Almighty, and God transfigured Jesus, I am left wondering what happens when they (and we with them) come back down? What occurs if the mountaintop becomes too foggy not with God’s Holy presence, but with a cloud of unknowing? Where do we meet God, if not on top of a mountain?

We can, of course, look to those who have met God on top of a mountain more recently, like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who in his last public address beautifully depicted his own pinnacle experience. He even spoke of peeking over the peak and into the Promised Land. In his own words:

“I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop.
And I don't mind.
Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you.
But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

The Rev. Dr. King seemed to know that like Moses he might have made it to the mountain top, but he might not make it into the Promised Land. This prophetic saint of the 20th Century stood on a proverbial mountain, as he felt God calling him home. Only 300 feet above sea level in Memphis he could still see far enough to view his dream of racial equality becoming reality.

This summit experience of that prophetic speech appears so magnificent in light of the Rev. Dr. King’s martyrdom that it overshadows the first 4,276 words of that same speech. In it he did not pontificate on pinnacles, but rather he wound his way through history until he made it to his own day. He believed that something was happening across the globe as people cried out, “We want to be free.”

We can believe that the work of freedom is done by God, or by more mountainous figures, like the Rev. Dr. King, Mahatma Gandhi, or Mother Teresa. We might think that it takes a spiritual peak experience to be called by God into the work of bringing God’s healing to life. And yet, I believe as John F. Kennedy did that, “Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free.” The work of the Church, the work of the Body of Christ, the work of us who are that Church and that Body comes not when we have a powerful moment, like that of the transfiguration, but when we receive God’s grace and let it transfigure the rest of our life.

This is not always a pleasant experience either. Moses, Elijah, and the Rev. Dr. King all struggled with God, but maybe none of them as much as the disciples. On the one hand, in the Transfiguration they encountered the symbol of the Law, Moses, and the epitome of the prophets, Elijah, speaking with Jesus. Plus, they had heard the voice of God, and had lived! Yet on the other hand, a cloud obscured their vision, Peter blabbered about building booths, fear wrapped around them, and worst of all Jesus told them to tell no one of the experience. But, why?

Throughout Mark’s Gospel account the reader is left wondering, “Who is this Jesus?” In fact, Jesus even seems to turn to the audience to ask, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers the question acknowledging Jesus as the Messiah, and yet when Jesus describes the type of death the Messiah must die Peter cannot handle it. This is when Jesus calls Peter Satan. So when God transfigures Jesus on the mountaintop this fuels Peter’s understanding of the Messiah that is this person who was to come in and overthrow the occupying forces of Rome. And yet, Jesus understands the truth of this moment far better than the disciples.

The moment of the Transfiguration will remain a mystery until the events that transpire in Jerusalem and result in Jesus’ death. Some would have certainly tried to put Jesus in a position of political power had they heard of this divine encounter on the top of a mountain. Yet, the glorification of God’s Son in the cloud can only make sense in light of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. And this is what we must understand about our peak spiritual experiences: they are not meant to give us something to boast about, but rather are to transfigure our hearts so that we might continue on the journey.

We with the disciples and Jesus are beginning our journey towards Jerusalem through the Season of Lent this very week. We need not go in search of any alps. For Christ wants us to walk with him down the mountain instead. Jesus’ Transfiguration occurred among the clouds, but God yearns to reform our hearts, as we journey with him bringing freedom, release, and transformation to all God’s children starting with ourselves.

Divorce, Remarriage, and Adultery: For it is to such as these that the Kingdom of God belongs?

Does Jesus mean to say that divorce and remarriage equals adultery? Picture from David R. Taylor's Blog.

Today's Scripture Lessons, which inspire today's sermon.

Unlike me all of you have most assuredly never had any relationship issues. Whether with friends, family members, or a spouse, your interpersonal interactions shine with only happiness, peace, and love. You are supposed to be laughing right now. Truthfully, I know that everyone struggles in his or her own connections with loved ones; however, so often what these tussles devolve into resembles something I like to call, “The Blame Game.”

I am not beyond this game. In fact, I wrestle with those sticky feelings whenever I try to acquit myself from wrongdoing in an interaction that seems awry. When I find myself passing the proverbial buck I think of Peter denying his relationship with Jesus three times before the cock crowed. Not only did Simon-Peter not take blame for any rabble-rousing, but he also refused even knowing Jesus. When I come face-to-face with conflict so often I want to push away my part of the problem.

Shoving away responsibility in relationships is nothing new for men. The religious and social norms of Jesus’ day did not give much power to women. In fact, the Pharisees’ concept of divorce focused strictly on the husband ending the relationship. If a man felt as though something in the marriage was inadequate, then it clearly was the woman’s fault. Does this at all sound familiar? Not just my seemingly male-given right to deny any culpability, but think back even to the first partners. Adam when pressed by the Creator immediately passed the blame to Eve. In today’s gospel lesson, though Jesus attempted to reshape this typical pattern. Taken at face value contemporary Christians have seen this gospel story as a means to proving that only men and women belong together. That was not Jesus’ concern.

Jesus centered upon the equality of marriage in this encounter with the Pharisees. He did not speak on our current debate about the equality between heterosexual and homosexual marriage, but rather Jesus critically shifted the fault in the matter of divorce away from merely women. Christ Jesus diffused the blame game when it came to matters of adultery. Essentially he said, this is not just about the spouse that society sees as the weaker. No longer shall a man use a woman as a scapegoat for the demise of a marriage. This partnership, which God joins together requires the work of both people.

So what do we do when partners divorce and remarry? Are both to wear a scarlet A on their garments? My parents got divorced when I was eleven, and both have moved on with their lives. Some of my dearest friends have been divorced and are remarried, so are they all adulterers? On the surface it appears that from Jesus’ perspective divorce and remarriage equals adultery and therefore sinfulness. However, the story of the children coming to Jesus falls too closely on the heels of his assessment of divorce and remarriage for us to completely avoid it.

Even more so than women, children occupied the lowest rung on the societal ladder of Jesus’ day. Unlike today, children were not seen as cute, although their place in the religious institutions back then strangely mimics our own. They were not to be seen or heard during synagogue meetings, or most of the rest of the time either. So if Jesus wanted to bring to him even those who occupied the weakest place in society, what did he yearn to do with those who were considered adulterers, tax collectors, and sinners? How did Jesus treat the least among him?

Jesus’ sense of love extended and still reaches beyond any of our social constraints or our understanding of who deserves love. He was radical in his inclusion of those outside the normal boundaries that were created by the systems of power. Who is it that we are supposed to love that does not typically fit within our understanding of who God loves? What group of people resting outside our understanding of God’s Chosen people need us to welcome them inside God’s Church? Who needs you to show God’s love? Let them come to you, like the little children came to Jesus, and learn to love them without blame, guilt, or conditions! Amen.

Same Sex Marriage and Cultural Wars: Disarmament Through Curiosity

"Non-Violence" is a sculpture by Carl Fredrik Reuterswärd outside the United Nations building in New York City.

Cultural wars are sticky, like a battle fought in quicksand. The end result nowadays seems to be that all combatants are pulled down from their lofty, ideological starting points to somewhere in the hateful muck. From where I work in my church office in Decatur, AL I cannot see the Morgan County Court House, but I know that no couple, same sex or otherwise, will receive a marriage license there until conflicting court issues are resolved. Perhaps for some this temporary halting of same sex marriage is a victory, elsewhere in the state where these marriages are taking place the other side claims victory. Civil unions between a couple of the same sex is the latest battle ground where those on opposing sides arm themselves to the teeth with weapons meant to prove their side right and even to seriously injure their opponents. Yet, I wonder how it is that we might not fight these battles any longer.

I could tell you about my belief in interpreting the story of our Salvation through the Incarnation, ministry, death, and Resurrection of Christ Jesus. I could tell you about my belief that the command that seems irrefutable from all the words Jesus spoke is to love God and love one’s neighbor. I could tell you about my hope that through Christ all of God’s Children no matter who they are, no matter what they have done, and no matter what they believe are in the infinite nearness of God through His Grace. And yet, if all I am doing through this is attempting to convert you to my side of the argument, if all I am doing is trying to win a debate, or if the only attempt I am making is to outwit you in a conversation, then I am slipping deeper and deeper into the mire.

What we need more than a court decision is an overhaul in how we have dialogue. It is no longer good, right, and joyful, nor is it particularly productive for us to have conversations, like we have had them in the recent past. In this old way, once I figured out you are pro-this or anti-that my entire purpose was to build a case to topple down whatever your side perpetuates. But, why? Not only is this useless, it actually appears to be eating away at the collective fabric that weaves us together. Never have we been this unhealthy, this on edge, and this combative towards one another. Maybe the problem is that we feel free to express ourselves. It could be that we are more aware of what others are saying. Perhaps it is the rise of news and social media that derives its popularity from controversy. Whatever the reason, I feel the need to work towards dismantling our systems of separation, but how?

When I served as a hospital chaplain for a summer during seminary training, I had a great supervisor. He started out as pastor, but became interested in serving as a trainer for hospital chaplains. He had a line that he used over and over again, like a patient stream slowly carving through rock layers to form a proverbial Grand Canyon. “And what was the line?” you ask. He said repeatedly, “I’m curious about that.” At first I thought he was like a child’s toy that repeats a catchphrase every time its string is pulled; however, I found that this question drove me throughout the summer to slowly disarm my defense mechanisms. By the end of the summer I too was curious.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” might be the most ridiculously mistranslated saying in the English language. Ben Jonson the British playwright originally wrote, “Care will kill a cat.” Care was translated as worry or sorrow, and somehow we switched that with curiosity. Curiosity, some will say, is dangerous. Yet, I believe it is our best hope of getting to know the other in a way that transforms us. When we live our lives as separatists or loners who are most concerned with accumulating status, wealth, or power at the expense of others we have little time or energy to wonder about someone else. And yet, if we, regardless of religion call ourselves children of God, then part of our collective hope stems from a yearning that we all may be one with God. If we share this hope to be one with God, then when we are one in God we will also be one with each other.

A classic joke about the afterlife involves St. Peter taking some new residents of Heaven through the Pearly Gates to give them a tour. As the group walks passed the Pentecostals they are vibrantly worshipping God, the Methodists are singing hymns of the Wesley brothers, and the Episcopalians are worshipping using the prayer book (and maybe imbibing an adult beverage). Then, St. Peter tells the group to be silent as they walk passed the next area. He says, “This is the room where the [Baptists/the Church of Christ members/the fill in the blank] are and they think they are the only ones up here.” Why is it that we have to believe that we are the only ones that God loves? Why is it that we fight against one another to be right? How come we cannot simply be curious about how each other sees God and what God sees in others?

The best way that we can move beyond the next cultural war is through a disarmament of our defensive behavior especially regarding our sense of knowing who is right and who is wrong. Become curious about those who are different. Wonder how others see God and the world. Make peace with not only not being right, but also not engaging in competitive conversation in the first place. Instead I challenge you to find at least one thing in common with anyone you meet. For it is when we see the connection between ourselves and others that our walls come down, and this opening is where we can truly begin to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Road Trip!

Photo courtesy of http://bit.ly/1wSwpFQ

Audio for this sermon can be found here.

Have you ever been on a road trip… with someone that you just met? Not someone you have been friends with for a year or two, or even a couple of months. I mean, have you ever been on a road trip with someone that you JUST met? I have not even come close to this, and what is worse, I cannot even imagine doing this, as I am the type of person who brings with me everything and the kitchen sink when I travel. Although I was not a boy scout, I live by their motto: “Be prepared.”

The gospel lesson for today seems to fly in the face of this motto, as it is in essence the beginning of a spontaneous road trip. Last week we heard the story of Jesus calling Simon, Andrew, James, and John, and this week’s tale follows immediately after the fishers becoming fishers of men. I like to think about how four fishermen would have gotten along traveling with the Son of God. Talk about a great reality TV show! Did James and John get into some sibling rivalries, like later when they would fight over who gets to sit at Jesus’ right hand? Did Andrew ever get tired of Simon seeking to be Jesus’ pet? What did Jesus make of these dirty, smelly fishermen? If there were any fireworks early on during the journey we do not get a whiff of them. Instead, we hear that this group of men made their first stop on the northwest corner of the Sea of Galilee at a synagogue meeting. What happens there indicates to us that this will be unlike any journey that these fishermen (or anyone else for that matter) have ever been on before.

At the synagogue meeting Jesus begins teaching, but his words strike directly to the heart of those who are listening. The religious leaders who typically gave teachings at the synagogue, the scribes, seemed lacking in light of Jesus. Those who heard Jesus were astounded at his teaching. The one attribute that stands out about Jesus’ teaching Mark highlights writing, “For he taught them as one having authority.”

All of a sudden a man comes into the synagogue meeting, a man who was possessed by demonic forces. The gang of demons within cannot keep quiet immediately yelling at Jesus, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” What must the disciples have been thinking? “I left my job for this? A religious meeting with this crazy guy bursting onto the scene!” Yet it is here that the demon correctly identifies Jesus, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” The disciples were not present at Jesus’ baptism, so they did not hear God’s voice from on high, they just left everything and followed Jesus.

At the beginning of Mark’s gospel we did hear God’s words at to Jesus, “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased." Remembering Christ's baptism illuminates the irony of this encounter with the unclean spirit. The Son of God consumed by the Spirit of God comes face-to-face with a man occupied by a spirit of Demons. Jesus wasted no time in arguing with the demons, as he rebuked the unclean spirit. Yet, the word for rebuke might come off too weak. This was not a verbal slap on the wrist, but was all encompassing and thorough conquering. Like elsewhere in the Old Testament where God defeated the forces of Satan, Jesus again puts down an enemy of God. Certainly we can feel good for this man possessed by demons, he’s been saved, but in this moment Jesus’ healing is not just about getting better. Something new happened when the man filled with God’s Spirit came in contact with the man full of demons.

We can be so focused on the exorcism in this scene that we completely missed the words that the demon possessed man uttered. “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” Maybe this is the demons fighting for their place, but I believe something else is going on when Jesus says, “Be silent and come out of him!” To teach with authority would have certainly “astounded” the disciples, but the convulsing man and the spirits crying as they fled would have shown the disciples that they were not just following an inspiring teacher.

Something brand new happened in the middle of this synagogue meeting. Jesus calls out the status quo. All that was stale or old or counter to God’s work consumed that demon possessed man. In the course of one profound statement Jesus calls out this tendency to just hang onto the status quo: Be silent and come out of him. This was the roadmap that this spiritual road trip was to follow: Inspiring teaching was to be proclaimed, healing was to happen, and the forces that ran contrary to God’s blossoming Kingdom were to be defeated! And the good news for us is that the journey that Jesus began with the disciples he continues with us.

All of us can be bound up by something that runs against God’s grain. We can all be possessed. Perhaps not by demons like this man, but we can be consumed by material possessions (the things we own, own us too!), addictions, obsessions, lies, guilt, shame, and all of those things that deny the will of God.

The words Jesus spoke to cast out the demons cut to our core as well: “Be silent and come out!” The consuming forces were no longer to speak. How many times do we make excuses for those things that keep us from a deepening relationship with God? I will stop and help the stranger in need some other day, I will pray with God next week, I will read my Bible when I have time, I will give more to God’s work in the world when I have more to give… Our demons may not look like stumbling into a church shouting at the preacher, but that does not mean they do not exist.

Christ began a journey with a ragtag group of fishers long ago, but He yearns to walk with us too. Jesus wants to unbind us from all that consumes us. Our Savior silences all our distractions, so that He can cast down all those obstacles, and show us clearly that we are no longer bound by any enemies of God. Instead we are called not just to be part of a church but to follow Christ on this expedition that brings fully to life God’s life-giving, world-transforming, love-filled Kingdom. Drop everything because Jesus wants to go on a road trip with you!