This Week’s Sermon – A Fresh Look at Christmas through the Eyes of the Christ Child

 SCRIPTURE – Luke 2:1-7

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

SERMON

A Fresh Look at Christmas sermon series
Through the Eyes of the Christ Child
Luke 2:1-7
December 20, 2009

I’m a big movie fan so I’m always on the lookout for what’s coming out in theaters, and there’s a moving opening on Christmas Day that looks pretty good. It stars Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin, and it’s about love and relationships and dysfunctional families and other Christmas traditions. The name of the movie is, quite appropriately, “It’s Complicated.”

That title could describe our efforts to survive the Christmas season. Buying the presents, attending parties, wrapping the presents, decorating the house, mailing the presents, trying not to overeat, opening the presents, cleaning up the Christmas morning mess, paying off the credit card you used to buy the presents…it’s complicated. Christmas is a season of holy chaos that seems to get bigger and bigger each year. Christmas continues to make the slow move from sacred to spectacular, which is amazing when you consider how it all started. The scripture from Luke we read today is such a simple story for such a big event. It reads more like an in-brief news item tucked back on page 6 of the Lifestyle section of the paper. Later on in the story you get the shepherds and the angels and the wise men, but for now we have this unspectacular tale, almost lost in the larger narrative. The reality of Luke’s story is that Jesus’ birth is about as average as it comes. We think of Christmas as something extraordinary, but this story couldn’t be more ordinary. The circumstances are so basic and humble in origin that it’s hard to appreciate just who it is that’s being born here.

But that is what makes this story so powerful. Something that would later change the world started off as something so commonplace. This passage from Luke is overflowing with paradox. The fact that the God of the universe would come to earth as a little baby is a paradox. It’s the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and End, the Author and Perfecter of our faith, emerging as a baby who couldn’t speak or feed himself or change his own swaddling cloths. Paradox. The Roman ruler at the time of Jesus’ birth, Caesar Augustus, was the emperor who reigned during the Pax Romana. But it is this baby who will become known as the Prince of Peace. That’s a paradox. The Messiah, who will free the oppressed, is born during a time of Roman oppression. Paradox. This baby, who is a descendant of King David, one of the richest and must successful Jewish kings, is born in the poorest and most humble of circumstances. Paradox.

In fact, the ethos of understatement that dominates this story might seem like a paradox to those of us who equate bigger with better. The unwritten rule of thumb seems to be more significant the event, the more hoopla it deserves. We don’t throw big parties for someone’s 42nd birthday or 12th anniversary, do we? We wait for a time that is more significant, more meaningful. Well, what could be more significant and meaningful than the birth of Christ? We’ve done our best to compensate for Luke’s lackluster presentation. This story should be a big deal, yet Luke treats it like just another birth.

I wonder, if in the midst of this complicated season, if we also treat it like just another birth. I wonder if we’ve lost the paradox. I wonder if we have become numb to the sheer subversiveness of this story. The son of God, the King of Kings, born right under the nose of Caesar Augustus! Born to an obedient peasant girl named Mary and a faithful carpenter named Joseph. Born in a cattle stall and laid in a feeding trough. God becomes human. That’s the epitome of paradox!

But excitement can easily turn to apathy after repeating hearings. Maybe after 2000 years of publicity, the shine may have rubbed off the Christmas story a bit. When you hear a story once, it’s captivating. When you hear it twice, it’s endearing. When you hear it three times, it gets to be a little repetitive. But when you’ve heard it every year for your whole life, you can begin to take it for granted.

When we do this, when we lose the power of the paradox in this story, we also lose the mystery and wonder it holds for us. Christmas as a season is utterly dependent upon mystery for its meaning, and I don’t mean that strictly from a religious standpoint. Part of the mystique that Santa Claus holds over our kids is the mystery of what he does. How does he make all those toys? How does it get down our chimney? How does he eat all those cookies and still fit into his suit? The sacred meaning and secular magic of Christmas is grounded in and dependent upon mystery.

I wonder what it would be like if, as adults, we beheld the Christ child with the same awe and mystery that kids hold for Santa. Do you remember that feeling as a kid when you walked into the room on Christmas morning and saw what Santa had left under the tree? Wow! What if we responded that way to Christ’s coming this year? The story hasn’t changed. The mystery is still there. But it’s up to us to see it, not through world-weary eyes, but through fresh ones, looking expectantly for the joy and hope Christ brings.

That’s the key for Christmas to remain alive in us. For so many of us, we’re now at the point during Advent when we’re asking, “Are we there yet?” Not because we can’t wait for the birth of Jesus, but because we can’t wait for it to be over! Soon will come the frenzy of unwrapping and visiting and eating, and then the holiday letdown, and then the Christmas tree takedown, and then it’s January. That’s almost depressing to think about, isn’t it? Where is the mystery, where is the wonder in that?

I believe for the spirit of Christmas to be alive in us in January and July, we need to approach Dec. 25 with a sense of wonder. Albert Einstein said, “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It’s the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed.”

The mystery of Christ’s birth reminds us that there’s something else going on here, something bigger than our precise calculations and neat explanations and tidy little bows. And that something bigger is so unbelievable it almost demands our attention and our questions: Why Mary? Why Joseph? Why that time and that place? Why a baby and not a soldier or conqueror? Christmas lives on in our souls as we seek answers to those questions.

That sense of wonder at this time of year is important because as we move into life beyond Christmas, those questions don’t go away. While they may fade they are replaced by more pressing questions, questions brought on by the challenges and cruelties of our complicated lives, questions like “What is my purpose?” and “What is my future?” and “Where is God?” and “Are my prayers being heard?” Life is a series of questions, and without a sense of wonder and curiosity, without an openness to the mystery of God’s work, our eyes are closed to the answers around us.

I had a text message from a friend last night, asking me to pray for his grandfather to get better. But I’m afraid if I pray that prayer and his grandfather dies, my friend will close his eyes to God once again. What else could God have planned in that situation? What other miracles could God work in their hearts besides a cure? Healed relationships, deeper connections with each other, maybe even a resurrected faith? My prayer for my friend is that God’s will be done. We just don’t know how God is working around us, but we have to keep our eyes open to it.

I once heard Christ’s birth referred to as an “emerging miracle.” I think we all can appreciate that life is a gift and that anytime a baby is born, a miracle emerges into this world. But that term also implies that what happens at Christmas doesn’t end at Christmas. The true miracle only starts there and continues to emerge as we move forward, eyes open, into the mystery of faith.

Christmas is such a major happening in our church and our culture that often the beauty of the Christmas story gets treated as if it were the whole story. It’s become so romanticized and sanitized that it sometimes feels like a fairy tale, a wonderful story that provides a brief escape from the world we face every day, like some vacation from reality. After all, what do we call these weeks off school and work? Christmas Break. As if we are pausing to take a breath before returning to the real world. But this isn’t the whole story. This is only the beginning of what Jesus came to do, and Jesus is inviting us deeper into life, not inviting us to escape from it.

In other words, this particular story of Jesus’ birth is pointing forward into something. Have you ever tried to point out something to a dog? Growing up, when I would play fetch with our dog Beaux, if he couldn’t find the ball I would point to it and say, “Go get it!” But of course, the first thing Beaux would do is look at my finger, not to where it was pointing. Christmas is pointing to something, but if we may a big deal about Christmas and then lose our focus and sense of wonder afterward, we’re staring at finger and not to where it is pointing.

The mystery of Christmas doesn’t end on Christmas Day. The wonder of what God is doing in our world and in our lives is ongoing. The love that the Christ child represents is still alive, right here, right now, within us. Christ’s birth points to a simple truth: When life is simple and when it’s complicated, God is with us. When things are extraordinary and when things are ordinary, God is with us. If God can take this ordinary birth and do something extraordinary with it, what can God do with the ordinary circumstances in our lives? Don’t let Christmas end this year. Don’t close your eyes to the mysterious. Christ is coming. God is becoming one of us. A miracle is emerging. What a gift! Merry Christmas.

A Fresh Look at Christmas…Through the Eyes of Joseph

 SCRIPTURE – Matthew 1:28-35
This is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about: His mother Mary was pledged to be married to Joseph, but before they came together, she was found to be with child through the Holy Spirit. Because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. But after he had considered this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: “The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel”—which means, “God with us.” When Joseph woke up, he did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife. But he had no union with her until she gave birth to a son. And he gave him the name Jesus.

SERMON
A Fresh Look at Christmas through the Eyes of Joseph
Matt. 1:18-25
December 6, 2009

We continue our fresh look at Christmas this morning by viewing the miracle of Christ’s birth through the eyes of his father, Joseph. Matthew is the only gospel that tells his story; Luke focuses on Mary, and Mark and John don’t even have birth narratives. So today’s passage from Matthew is our primary source of information about Jesus’ earthly father.

His story actually starts at the beginning of the first chapter of Matthew, where the gospel writer sketches a picture of Jesus’ family tree in the form of a genealogy. To be true to Joseph’s story we should read that genealogy, but it’s not exactly John Grisham edge-of-your-seat material. Matthew needs to take a Journalism 101 class on writing an attention-grabbing introduction, because his idea of a good first impression is “…and Rehoboam the father of Abijah, and Abijah the father of Asa, and Asa the father of Jehoshaphat, and Jehoshaphat the father of Jehoram, and Jehoram the father of…” You get the picture.

It may not be the most compelling chapter in the Bible, but the genealogy does make some important points that are significant to our exploration of Joseph today. It includes some very important people, names we would recognize like Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and Jesse and his famous son, King David. But it also includes people of little consequence, like Zerubabbel and Eliakim and Amminadab. This list of Jesus’ ancestors tells us that every plan of God’s includes some spiritual heavy hitters like Abraham and David, but also runs through average Joes – and Zerubabbels – like you and me.

The genealogy concludes with another average Joe – or, at least, average Joseph. The genealogy ends with a humble blue-collar worker, the husband of Mary. This family tree explained to the Jewish readers of Matthew’s gospel one very important point: Joseph, the nondescript carpenter from Nazareth, was a descendant, not only of Abraham, but of King David.

Why was this important? Why did Matthew spend the first 16 verses of his gospel on a series of “who begat whom”? We have to keep in mind Matthew’s audience. Unlike Luke, who was writing his orderly account to mostly Gentiles, Matthew was writing to a group of people with deep Jewish roots, who were intimately familiar with the Hebrew Scriptures, and who were acutely aware of the prophecies about the coming of the Messiah. So they would have known that Isaiah, in predicting the coming of the Messiah, wrote, “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.” Matthew was offering proof to his audience that, as Joseph’s legal son, Jesus fulfills this prophecy because he is a direct descendant of Abraham, the father of all Jews, and of Jesse. Jesus is the one to whom the prophets were pointing, and Joseph and his lineage are crucial to making that point.

Joseph plays a prominent place in our modern-day versions of Christmas. You can’t have a nativity without a Joseph, can you? But when you look closely at the biblical narrative, Joseph is barely present. These verses are practically all we have about Joseph, and if you’ll notice, the man doesn’t even speak! And after this mute role is finished, Joseph disappears from the gospel before Jesus is even baptized and is never heard from again. But despite his wordless presence, Joseph is a key player in the drama. Just as Mary had an important decision to make about being the earthen vessel for God’s son, so Joseph is faced with a gut-wrenching decision, on which rests the fate of baby Jesus and God’s salvation plan.

At the start of our story, Joseph was pledged to be married to Mary. This is more than a simple engagement, as we understand it. This is a betrothal, a year-long commitment between a man and woman that carried with it all the binding agreements of a marriage, without the consummation. At the end of one year in betrothal, the couple was formally married.

So Joseph and Mary were in all senses committed to each other to be married. But when Mary returns from her three-month visit to her relative Elizabeth, Joseph discovers his wife is four months along in a pregnancy initiated by the Holy Spirit. How did Mary decide to share that with her soon-to-be husband? “Honey, I’ve got some good news and I’ve got some bad news. The bad news is, I’m pregnant and you’re not the father. But the good news is, neither is anybody else!” If you were Joseph, how do you respond to this? He wasn’t quite sure what happened with Mary, he only knew it had nothing whatsoever to do with him.

So he faces a decision, one of the most important decisions faced by anyone in the Bible: what to do with Mary and her unborn child? We are told Joseph was a righteous man, which means in Jewish tradition that he was a faithful follower of God’s law, so the law gave him his options. He could follow what was laid out in Deuteronomy 22, which says, “If a man is found sleeping with another man’s wife, both the man who slept with her and the woman must die.” So one of Joseph’s options is to expose Mary’s apparent transgression and have her stoned to death.

But by New Testament times, that punishment was rarely meted out. So, the only other option Joseph faced, according to the law, was divorce. No matter how much he loved Mary, it was his religious obligation to end the betrothal and severe the marriage contract. He could honor the shaming dictated by the law and expose Mary’s sin through a public divorce, humiliating her in front of her family and friends and leaving her future in question. Or he could divorce her quietly, with only a few witnesses, doing everything he could to keep both his and Mary’s reputation intact. But he simply couldn’t stay with her. This is just a mess for Joseph.

As Joseph wrestles with option A and option B, God presents option C. Through a dream, an angel tells Joseph to take Mary as his wife, to take her son as his own, and to give him the name Jesus, which means “God saves us.” Ignore what people tell you, ignore what the law tells you, and do what God tells you. Option C.

What should Joseph do? If he chooses God’s option, he exposes himself to the severest of ridicule. Shame was a powerful force in Joseph’s culture, and being shamed could ruin his reputation and his business. So imagine the shame he would subject himself to by walking down the street arm in arm with his wife who was carrying a child that everyone knew wasn’t his.

More important than his relationship with his townsfolk was his relationship with his family. What would he be? A father or a stepfather? A husband or roommate? If Joseph believes the angel, everything is full speed ahead. The story can continue. Mary will have a home and a family and her child will be born into the line of King David. But if Joseph doesn’t believe, then everything grinds to a halt. If he wakes up from his dream, shakes his head, and goes to the courthouse to file the divorce papers, then Mary is an outcast forever and the future is in question.

For the working out of God’s plan, Joseph’s belief is as important as Mary’s womb, because it is Joseph’s decision whether or not to give this child a name that will determine the child’s fate. By choosing to name the child, Joseph would exercise his right as the father and acknowledge Jesus as his legal son. Will this righteous, intensely conflicted man speak the name of Jesus? Interestingly, we are never told what he says. We are only told what he does. Despite the consequences, despite the chaos, despite the unknown future, he did what the angel of the Lord commanded him.

Pastor Barbara Brown Taylor says this about Joseph: “The heart of the story is about a just man who wakes up one day to find his life wrecked: his wife pregnant, his trust betrayed, his name ruined, his future revoked. It is about a righteous man who surveys a mess he has had absolutely nothing to do with and decides to believe that God is present in it. He owns this mess, he legitimates it and gives it a name, and the mess becomes the place where new life is born.”

Joseph’s story is often our story. We are presented day after day after day with circumstances beyond our control, circumstances we would never have chosen for ourselves, tempted to divorce ourselves from the belief that God is anywhere in this mess, when an angel whispers in our ear: “Do not fear. God is here. It may not be what you had planned, but God may be born here, too, if you will speak his name.”

Isn’t that funny, that we have some kind of say in whether God is born here this year? C’mon, what power do we have? The same power that Abraham had, and Jacob had, and Jehoshaphat had, and Jehoram had, and Joseph had: the power to acknowledge that God is in the mess and the power to answer “yes” to God’s call and to pass on the promise of the coming of Jesus Christ. Who will save us? Who will walk beside us? Who will take the messes in our life and through them create new life? One is coming this Christmas who offers to do those things, to be present with us in the mess. All we have to do is to choose to speak his name.

Merry…whatever!

This time of year is full of time-honored traditions, like trimming the tree, hanging the stockings, and complaining about people saying, “Happy Holidays!” I’m going to tell you what I think about this issue, but I’m not going to say what you think I’m going to say, and you may not like it one bit.

The basic controversy is that our culture at large is moving away from religious-specific statements like “Merry Christmas!” to more generic, all-inclusive statements like, “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings.” I think it was Tommy on the Rugrats who came up with “Merry Christmakwanzaakkuh.” Which of course really ticked off those folks who celebrate the Winter Solstice.

Some say the reason for this shift to a blander seasonal salutation is political correctness. A Christian humor site I subscribe to sent out this version of a season greeting: “Best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most joyous traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, but with respect for the religious persuasion of others who choose to practice their own religion as well as those who choose not to practice a religion at all.”

In an effort not to offend anyone, we take all the salt out of our language. People bemoan the lack of “Merry Christmas!” signs at Walgreens, and resolutely offer the Christian greeting to grocery clerks in a tone more fit for a battle cry, as if they’re saying, “Merry Christmas – wanna make something of it?”

So what do I, a Christian pastor, think of this? What’s my take on the Scrooges who want to trade in Christmas for a generic winter holiday? I say, “Good. They can have it. Let them cheerily wish me a ‘Happy Holiday’ until icicles dangle from their nose.” I have no problems with “Merry Christmas” disappearing from our larger culture. In fact, I applaud and encourage it. Why? Because it’s the best chance we have of reclaiming Christmas for what it truly is.

Look, we Christians lost our grip on Christmas a LONG time ago, and no matter how many “Christ is the reason for the season” bumper stickers we produce, we’re never going to forcibly wrest it back for the culture’s grip. It’s too far gone. Christmas is no more a religious holiday than Britney Spears is a candidate for sainthood.

That’s why people are in such an uproar about the diminishing of “Merry Christmas.” Why should it offend; it’s just an innocent holiday hello! That term no longer signifies a religious observance; if anything, it marks the beginning of a retail season, like the green flag being waved at the Indy 500. People don’t see “Merry Christmas” as having any potential to offend because it doesn’t really mean anything, at least from a spiritual standpoint.

The truth is that, like it or not, Christmas is supposed to be an exclusively Christian holiday. If someone went around wishing me a “Happy Hanukkah” all the time, while I wouldn’t punch that person in the face, I would be a little perturbed and contemplate knocking their yarmulke off. If we want to honor the true meaning of Christmas, then we must honor the fact that at best it has no meaning for non-Christians, at least in the religious sense, and at worst it can be offensive and off-putting, which won’t win you many converts.

But here’s the real reason why I’m happy to give up saying “Merry Christmas” in non-Christian settings. Wouldn’t it be great if we could reclaim Christmas as a primarily Christian celebration? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could say “Merry Christmas” only when we actually meant it in the most joyous, hopeful sense? I say “Happy Holidays” to the convenience store clerk because I truly hope he has a happy holiday, regardless of whether he is Christian, a Winter Solstician, or celebrates Festivus (“For the rest of us!”). But at church, I say “Merry Christmas,” because I want my fellow Christians to truly experience the miracle that Christmas brings for their life and their faith.

What I hope is that the idea of Christmas can be insulated from the culture’s grip. Give them “Happy Holidays” and “Season’s Greetings.” They can have it. No one is complaining that “Happy Hanukkah” has lost its meaning, because you hardly ever heard it said in the marketplace. If only “Merry Christmas” could gain that same kind of scarcity. If Christmas begins to disappear from the larger culture, maybe the church can repossess it, wipe off all the yucky cultural residue, give it a good spit-shine, and place it back up on the mantle. If we can do that, maybe, just maybe, Christmas could actually be about Christ again. Is that too much to ask Santa for?

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!

A Fresh Look at Christmas…Through the Eyes of Mary

Happy Advent, everyone! The new church year has begun with another wonderful Advent season. In the spirit of new beginnings, I have started my ministry at Crestwood Christian Church in Lexington, KY. What an awesome congregation! I am blessed abundantly to be called to serve there. I pray this week – and this Advent – are full of wonderful presents of joy for you!

SCRIPTURE – Luke 1:26-38
In the sixth month, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, a descendant of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.” Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God. You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end.”

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?” The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month. For nothing is impossible with God.” “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.” Then the angel left her.

SERMON

“A Fresh Look at Christmas through the Eyes of Mary”
Luke 1:26-38
Nov. 29, 2009

Expectation. Anticipation. Waiting. Do you know what it’s like to wait? I have a feeling you do. We’ve all been in a state of expectation these last few months, haven’t we? One of the dictionary definitions of “expectation” is “realization in advance.” I love the paradox there. How can you realize something before it has happened? When we expect something, we live as if we know the blessings of what is to come, even though they aren’t here yet. Like the great Hebrews definition of faith as “being certain of what we cannot see.” Realization in advance.

Well, I’m glad to say that which we have expected has now been realized. Our ministry together has finally started, and now we can begin the work that God has called us to do. It’s no coincidence that my first Sunday in the pulpit is also the first Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the Christmas year. Not only is this the perfect time for beginnings, but I also thought I’d start when things are quiet and there’s not a lot going on. December is a slow month at Crestwood, right?

I believe Christmas is the perfect time for new things because I believe it is the time of year when we’re most susceptible to falling into a rut and going through the motions. Sometimes Christmas can be so chaotic and nerve-wracking that we just want to put our heads down and lock-step our way forward, so that by the time Dec. 25 arrives the only joy you feel is that it’s finally over.

But the danger in putting our heads down is that we miss what is going on around us. As we move into another season of anticipation, we are confronted once again with the startling, amazing story of Jesus’ birth. I know it’s a story we’ve heard many, many times before. Can there be anything new here? But this year I’d like to encourage us to hear it as if for the first time, to experience all the waiting and worry and wonder as if we were there, right alongside Mary and Joseph and the shepherds and the wisemen.

Today, we start with Mary. What would it be like to experience the Christmas story through her eyes? Before we can begin to answer that question, we have to acknowledge that the Mary we know in today’s world is a far cry from the Mary of scripture. We know her as The Virgin Mary, the mother of Jesus. The Catholic tradition and influence in our culture has helped solidify Mary’s place in our religious vernacular, a place so lofty that the Pope once warned his flock against elevating Mary to a status higher than her son.

And yet, Mary still has a central place in global Christianity. It is estimated that 2 billion Hail Marys are said every day. Here in the U.S., there is a hotline you can call to get updated information on Mary, Mary sightings and Mary’s messages. It’s 1-800-345-MARY. It’s true, I called it. I was put on hold, so while I waited I said a few Hail Mary’s. Mary’s popularity is like that of a rock star. She was Madonna before Madonna was Madonna.

So we can make too much of Mary, but we can also make too little of her. She is one of the central characters of the gospel story. She was there at Jesus’ birth and his death and his life in between. She no doubt played an incredibly influential role in his upbringing and education. But because of the Catholic focus or the controversy over the virgin birth, we sometimes shy away from Mary. So let’s no overemphasize or underemphasize her; let’s take her at face value, just as scripture presents her this morning.

It’s interesting to contrast Mary as a figure of power and authority with the Mary pictured in our text today. She hardly comes across as a person worthy of a statue: a poor, young, teenage girl engaged to a local carpenter, one of the nameless, faceless many. Growing up, she would have been taught a rigid code of standards and values. The model of womanhood held up by her society called for a woman to be the wife of a God-fearing Jewish man, the mother of his children, and the maker of a loving and law-abiding home for their family. That was dictated to her as her goal in life, and as far as she knew that’s what lay ahead for her.

Until the angel Gabriel appears and announces that God has other plans. We know something is up when Gabriel speaks to her directly; in Jewish tradition, women in general, and especially young unmarried girls, were never directly greeted. The angel tells Mary that she will give birth to a son, and she is to name him Jesus. And her son will become a king and his kingdom will never end.

Gabriel makes it sound so simple, but the implications of this announcement for Mary are staggering. First, she was young, poor, and female, all characteristics that people of her day would say made her utterly unusable by God. Second, her pregnancy would mean all kinds of trouble. She has to explain this to her fiancé, and what are the chances he’s going to believe her? “You’re what? An angel said what? The Holy Spirit did what?” She’ll have to face her community as unwed and pregnant, setting her up for merciless ridicule and ostracizing. And, because of this apparent and appalling transgression, she could, by law, be stoned to death. Mary’s whole future is drastically rearranged by this announcement.

“How can this be?” Mary asked, and that is all she asked, which is a miracle itself, because I would have had a lot of questions: What’s going to happen? Will Joseph stick around? Will my parents still love me? Will my friends stand by me or will I get dragged into town and stoned to death? Will the pregnancy go all right? Will the labor be hard? Will there be someone to help me when my time comes? Will I know what to do? Why me? Christmas for Mary meant anxious questions with few answers.

So Mary, the most unlikely of God-bearers, is chosen. God could have chosen a queen or a princess or an aristocratic heiress, but God doesn’t. God chooses a poor peasant girl who brings nothing to the situation but her availability and her willingness to serve. Mary is one of the lowest of the low, and yet she has found favor with God, and through God’s power and God’s choosing she will be exalted.

“I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.” Mary’s answer to the angel represents a bold statement of faith with a level of commitment and obedience not matched anywhere else in the Bible. Her “yes” was the crucial turning point in God’s salvation plan. Her faith made possible God’s entry into history, the Word becoming flesh. She had every reason to say “no”: not the right time, not the right place, not the right partner, not the right family planning, not the right future direction. And yet, instead of weighing the pros and cons, instead of counting the costs, she simply says yes.

That doesn’t mean she wasn’t scared, that her voice didn’t tremble as she gave her answer. Who among us is not as fearful as Mary when God demands our attention in a way we cannot ignore? The missionary en route to a foreign country, the student stepping through the school doors for the first time, the congregation member leading their first meeting or holding the communion trays for the first time all know the fear that goes with saying “yes” to God’s call.

But like Mary, we can lay claim to the truth of this scripture: If you have been called by God, then you have been favored by God. Mary is, in every sense of the word, expecting. She is not only expecting biologically; she is expecting theologically. She is expecting in her womb and in her soul. Pastor David Shirey says she is “running her fingers through the prospect of promises fulfilled.” The prospect of promises fulfilled. She is realizing in advance what God is going to do.

To be expecting is one of the blessings of Advent. As we await Christ’s coming, we are all expecting, just like Mary. And our role in this narrative being told is in some ways just as important. Listen to these words from medieval mystic Meister Eckhart: “We are all meant to be mothers of God. What good is it to me if this eternal birth of the divine Son takes place each year but does not take place within myself? And what good is it to me that Mary is full of grace if I am not full of grace? What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to his son if I do not also give birth to him in my time and culture?”

So let us hail Mary this morning for what she has done. And then, let’s us take our place alongside her as God-bearers in this world, ones who have been called and favored by God. I know that can be scary. I know that can raise a lot of questions. You know, this Christian thing would be a lot easier if it came with step-by-step instruction. But it doesn’t. Instead it comes with a promise and a call. God has a plan to use each one of us to make God’s love known here on earth. He comes to each of us this Christmas and says, “Jesus Christ is inside you. Will you give birth to his love in your life? Will you share him with others? Will you share him with the world?”

“May it be to me as you have said” – if that could be our response to the coming of Christ this Christmas, then his birth would not merely be remembered but truly received. The birth of Christ this year means that God again has favored us and wants to use us to make the kingdom real here on earth. God wants to use us! That’s more than just a Christmas wish; it’s what we should be expecting.

Hospital-tality

Because we are a multi-staff church, the ministers share in the pastoral care duties. My days at the hospital are Mondays and Wednesdays. I made my rounds this morning to Central Baptist and the UK Medical Center, then was called back to the hospital this afternoon to be with the family of a man who is nearing the end of his life.

I’m new here, so I don’t know a whole lot of people and I had yet to meet this man and his wife (except for a very brief greeting during my audition weekend). I was a bit hesitant to try and provide pastoral care during such a traumatic time for a family I didn’t know, but that is one of the wonderful things about ministry. You just never know where God is going to call you to serve and you often feel ill-equipped to answer the call. Of course, if we always felt fully qualified to serve in ministry, there would be no room for God to work.

In the midst of this family’s very difficult time, I experienced God’s presence in very powerful ways. The family was very gracious and welcoming to me. In some ways I feel like I was the one being cared for, which may have been therapeutic for them. I heard some wonderful stories about the family, the church and the history of the Lexington area. There were tears, laughter and a lot of hand-holding. And God was there, in the midst of us, whispering “all will be well” in each of our ears.

I’m praying for this family tonight. They will be eating their Thanksgiving meal in the hospital cafeteria, which is an experience no one should have to endure. I am thankful to them for their strength, their vulnerability and their faith. I have a feeling there are many, many families like this at Crestwood, and I am feeling blessed once again to be serving here.

The Calm Before…

Tomorrow is my last official day being unemployed. On Monday I start my new job as senior pastor of Crestwood Christian Church in Lexington, Ky. As with most pastoral searches, this has been a lengthy one. I first heard from the chair of the search committee in February of this year, so that means the process took nine months from first contact to first day on the job. That’s a lot of time to have the future thrown up in the air and your emotions on edge. I’m glad it is coming to an end.

It’s actually been an enjoyable journey, despite all the emotions. The church here in Lexington has been incredibly hospitable and understanding, and my previous church in Lincolnshire, Ill., was supportive and gracious. In both places, I believe my family and I had the honor of experiencing church as it was meant to be. That doesn’t mean there weren’t moments of humanness, but I hope that God was honored through the process.

We’re done with our goodbyes in Illinois, which were tearful and heartbreaking and so, so sacred to me. I cried the hardest when saying goodbye to my friend and mentor, but I cried often when thinking about leaving such a wonderful group of people. I’m blessed t count many of them as friends.

And now, let the hellos begin! Crestwood is about triple the size of Lincolnshire, so I have a lot more names to learn. I’m sure I’ll call someone “Bill” instead of “Bob” or “Mary” instead of “Martha.” I just hope I don’t look at Bill and call him “Martha!” The memory function of my brain will be in overdrive the next few weeks. I wish there wasn’t so much junk up there wasting valuable space (do you remember the name of the guy who hosted “The Match Game?” Gene Rayburn).

There’s a lot of excitement that goes along with starting at a new church. I feel an incredible sense of anticipation and expectancy, which is only appropriate as we enter the season of Advent. I believe something new and exciting is about to be born, both within my spirit and within Crestwood Christian Church. I give thanks to God for such wonderful blessings and I eagerly await the arrival of what God is going to do.

My last sermon at CCC – Praying Goodbye

Thanks to everyone for a wonderful send-off today. It was Spirit-filled and such a celebration. God be with you til we meet again!

Praying Goodbye
Phil. 1:3-11
Oct. 25, 2009

I want to tell you about July 3, 2001. It was a Tuesday and it was my third day on the job as associate minister at Community Christian Church. I had been ordained about two months before and was so new to the ministry I still had tags on me and that fresh new minister smell. I had survived my first Sunday in the pulpit without getting booed out of the sanctuary, so I thought I was off to a pretty good start. I was ready for anything!

Except for the phone call I was about to receive. Nelson Irving, the senior pastor, was out of the office, probably playing pool at Ken Fisher’s house, so after only three days on the job, I was left in charge. Big mistake. The phone rings, and I answer it in my most professional minister voice: “Community Christian Church, this is Kory.” The voice on the other end was almost hysterical. Apparently, this lady’s teenage son was creating all kinds of havoc in their household and she was at the end of her rope. She ranted and raved for about ten straight minutes, spewing forth this stream of frustration and angst that was melting the phone in my hands. When she finally paused to take a breath, she says in the most exasperated tone, “So…what should I do?”

Umm. They didn’t train me for this in seminary. I never took a class on handling irate parishioners. So I summoned up my most pastoral voice and said, as I was taught to say in my Introduction to Pastoral Counseling class, “Well, that’s a tough situation. I really feel for you. I wish I had an easy answer you, but I don’t.” Then I smiled, and said to myself, “Ooo, good empathizing! That’s just the soothing balm this lady needs. This ministry stuff is easy!” And there was a pause on the other end of the line for about three seconds, then I heard this intake of breath and a voice almost scream, “Well, that’s just not good enough!”

You can imagine how I felt at that moment. Here I had invested four years of time, money and effort into earning a Master of Divinity degree, sacrificed time with my wife and little daughter, slogged out systematic theology papers, moved to Illinois, and after three days on the job I was already a failure. How ironic that Jesus rose on the third day and I was crucified on it. “That’s just not good enough!”

Well, eight years later, I’m happy to say that parishioner and I have a wonderful relationship, and while I didn’t fix her teenage son, I hope I provided some sort of comfort to her and her family along the way. In fact, I had lunch with her recently and we laughed about that first phone call. I tell that story because as I reflect on my time here, I realize that ever since that day I’ve been doing my best to be “good enough” as your minister. I have been my own hardest critic and toughest boss, trying to live up to my calling as a Christian minister and servant of a congregation, and live up to my own expectations to be “good enough.”

And I’ve failed. I haven’t been good enough. Now, you may want to disagree with me and I appreciate that sentiment, or you may want to agree with me, in which case I appreciate you remaining quiet. But the truth of the matter is that, when I look at who I was called to be, I wasn’t good enough. In fact, none of us are. No matter how exemplary our lives, no matter how selfless or generous or compassionate we are, we can never measure up to the standards that are set for us. At some point, whether it is three days or three years or thirty years, we will fall short.

But through our faith in Christ, that all changes. Through our belief in Jesus as our savior, we go from being “not good enough” to being “good enough.” We may not always live up to this description, but the forgiveness and mercy we are offered at the Communion Table is one of the ways God looks at us and says, “You are good enough.”

I want to say to you that you are good enough, as individuals and as a congregation. We’ve had our ups and downs together, our successes and our failures, our times of great faith and times of great doubt, but in the end, I can say with confidence that you are good enough. Not because of anything you have done, but because of what I’ve seen God do through you.

And I can say that because I’ve heard your story. Over these past eight years, I’ve had the honor of listening to your story and being a part of it. I’ve been invited into your homes, I’ve sat across lunch tables with you, I’ve talked with you on the phone, and I’ve exchanged emails with you. And all the while, I’ve been listening to your story.

But it goes deeper than just casual conversations, doesn’t it? We’ve sat together in the hospital waiting room or the funeral parlor. We’ve sat in my office and cried and laughed and worried and prayed. We’ve talked together in Friendship Hall after worship or in the parking lot after a meeting. We’ve worked side by side on mission trips. We’ve witnessed weddings and baby dedications. I’ve had the honor of hearing your story.

And what an amazing story it is! It’s a story of hope, of perseverance, of answered prayer, of faith in the midst of unanswered prayer, of living out what we believe by helping others. I’ve heard you tell it during our Thanksgiving service, or on Lay Sunday, or during the sharing of joys and concerns before our prayer. Your story is inspiring and moving and an incredible testimony to the work of God in this world.

So I want to encourage you today to keep telling that story. Author Diana Butler Bass says, “We become ourselves as well tell our stories.” You will continue to become whatever God is calling you to be as you put words to how you experience God in your life. You don’t have to tell it eloquently or dramatically or use big words like “penultimate” and “soteriology” (although if you do it makes it even better). Just tell your story.

You see those doors? There will be people coming through those doors who don’t know your story, including your next minister. And they need to hear it, because not only is it your story, not only is it this church’s story, it’s God’s story. And when you articulate it, when you speak it out loud, when you give voice to it, you become who God created you to be. You have an awesome story and I have been honored to be a part of it these last eight years. And I when I tell my story, you will have a special place in it.

And now, this chapter comes to an end. I have had several people say, “I’m not going to say ‘goodbye’ because that just sounds so final.” Yes, it does and yes, it is. But not when you consider what it really means. The word “goodbye” is a contracted form of the phrase, “God be with ye.” To say “goodbye” is to entrust someone to God’s care once they are no longer in your presence.
Other languages pick up on this. In Spanish, the word for God is “Dios,” so their parting word, “Adios,” literally means, “to God.”
Same with the French word “Adieu.” To God. And the German “auf Wiedersehen” literally means…actually, I don’t know what that means. But you get the idea.

In the Christian vocabulary, there’s a word that carries with it some of the same meanings. It’s a word we use a lot when we pray: Amen. Amen means “right on” or “let it be so” or, as they say where I’m going in Kentucky, “Yup!” It’s the exclamation point at the end of sentence that affirms the truth of what’s been said and commends it to God.

You probably have never noticed that I don’t end my sermons with an “amen” as a lot of pastors do. My preaching professor in seminary encouraged us to not do this, because he believes the sermon should only be the beginning of the conversation, not the end of it. “Don’t put a period where God wants to put a comma.” In other words, ending a sermon with “amen” is like saying, “And that’s all there is to say about that.” I don’t believe that’s true, so I have never said “amen” at the end of a sermon.

But this sermon is a little different, because in some ways it IS the end of the conversation, at the least one between you and me. We are putting the punctuation on the end of the sentence at the end of the paragraph at the end of the chapter, a chapter that I humbly pray was “good enough.” It feels like there’s still so much more to be done and so much we have left undone, but we’ll just have to turn that over to God and trust that the dialogue will be picked up by your next conversation partner. I can’t wait to hear what stories are written in your future. And until that happens, I am able to say with confidence, trust, faith and so much love, goodbye and amen.

My last newsletter column

“I have to say right up front, before I say anything else, how excited Leigh, Sydney and I are about becoming a part of your family. Whatever emotions I share from this point on in this column are completely dwarfed by the sheer joy we feel about coming to CCC.” – From the June 2001 newsletter

It’s hard for me to believe it’s been over eight years since I wrote those words. At the time I was a newly ordained minister (I still had that new seminary graduate smell!) preparing for his first job in the “real world” of congregational ministry. I was dealing with a new medical diagnosis and moving to a new city and state.

And you welcomed me without hesitation. To say “with open arms” would not only be a cliché but wouldn’t do justice to the hospitality you showed to my family and me. As we settled into this area, you all became not only our friends but our loved ones. Now it is eight years later, and we are preparing to leave the most loving and caring church we have known. It doesn’t even seem real that CCC will no longer be part of our lives. While we know there is a wonderful congregation awaiting our arrival, they will never be able to take the place of CCC in our hearts.

Thankfully, our leaving is not “goodbye” so much as “talk to you later.” Through the wonders of technology, I look forward to keeping in touch with you through email or on Facebook (and maybe even with actual mailed letters!). I love this congregation very much and will follow with much interest your future path. I want nothing more than God’s best for you all.

After all we have been through together, it is sad for me to think I will not be part of that future. But I believe God has someone perfect in mind to lead this congregation forward. I believe I have done what God called me to CCC to do. Now it is someone else’s turn to experience the warmth, hospitality and support this congregation has to offer.

An important shift will take place on Oct. 26. I will no longer be your pastor. I will not be able to offer you counsel or guidance. I won’t be coming to congregational gatherings. And you will no longer have to sit through my sermons (please hold your applause!). But, if it is your wish, I hope that we can continue to be friends. When my family and I have found a place to live in Lexington, I will be sure to pass along that information. In the meantime, I encourage you to use my personal email (wilkory@gmail.com) if you’d like to contact me.

Thank you, Community Christian Church. Thank you for your love and support. Thank you for your feedback and guidance. Thank you for your patience, your forgiveness and your companionship. I pray that these last eight years have been a blessing for you. If we have disagreed, I pray that I have not been a stumbling block for you. If I have, I ask your forgiveness. Please know that I will always remember this church fondly. After all, this is where I started my ministry. But it’s been more than that; this is where I came face-to-face with the image of God in each of you. Thank you.

This Week’s Sermon – Called to Share God’s Love

 Hi everyone! This sermon ends my series on the mission statement of Community Christian Church. I was a lot of fun to explore some of the questions behind what we’re called to do. Have a blessed week!

SCRIPTURE
James 2:14-18 – What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, “Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith; I have deeds.” Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.

Mark 10:42-45 – Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

SERMON
Sermon Series – “Call to be…”
Sermon #4 – “Share God’s love…”
October 4, 2009

You may have heard of some of the great theologians of our time: Karl Barth, Paul Tillich, Frederick Buechner. But you may not know the great theologian Sylvester McMonkey McBean. In case you don’t know, McBean is a character in the Dr. Seuss story about the Sneetches. McBean shows up with his Star-On Machine, which will turn plain-bellied sneetches into star-bellied sneetches, thus upping their status in the sneetch community. You walked in to the machine, got your star, and then walked out a new person. Ta-da!

McBean may be a little opportunistic, but you could spin that by calling him an “agent of transformation”. It’s not unlike what the church is called to do: bring them in, transform them, then ship them out. Today, we finish our sermon series looking at our mission statement by exploring the meaning behind the last line: “We are called to share God’s love for us through compassionate service to others.” This imperative completes the McBean cycle. We bring them in by welcoming people into a loving and caring church family, we transform them by equipping them with a Christ-centered faith that works in real life, and then we ship them out to share God’s love through compassionate service. Ta-da!

When the Sneetches left the Star-On Machine, they did so with stars on their bellies and noses in the air. But we are called to leave this church very differently, with our eyes open and our hands ready to work. In other words, we are called to go from this place with a purpose, to take what we’ve learned and experienced and share it. This is not a side-effect of being in church; it is the primary purpose for it.

But why? Couldn’t our mission statement be complete without this last line? I know many people who believe the church exists to take care of them. Maybe you feel this way. The church is here so that when I need something or somebody, I have a place to go, like a spiritual ATM that serves up prayers and potlucks. Jesus said he came not to be served but to serve, but I wonder if at times the church doesn’t get that a little backward.

That doesn’t mean we should just ignore each other’s needs. We are a community, a loving and caring church family, and that means we take care of each other. But if our definition of the church ends there, then we have bought into the myth that the church is just one more service organization. Our mission statement, if we follow the thinking all the way through, implies that we welcome and equip so that we can share God’s love with each other and beyond the walls of the church.

The question, “Why do we serve?” is built on the understanding that we DO serve. The role of service in living out our faith is a given in our mission statement and it’s a given in the Bible, as well. James is the best example of this. “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” “Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.” Living out our faith through our actions is not optional. We are called to share God’s love.

But I believe we often times get caught up in serving for the wrong reasons. One author I read recently addressed this by talking about altruistic egoism. Altruistic egoism is the belief that by helping others, we can make ourselves feel better. And there is an element of truth to that. I do feel better about myself when I help someone else. But if that’s my main motivation, I’m engaging in self-service. If I’m serving someone else in order to check something off my mental feel-good list or to pad my spiritual resume, I’m actually doing a disservice.

Let me explain that with an analogy. I’ve learned the deep theological truth that road construction stinks, but I have come to love the concept of open-road toll plazas. If you have the neat little I-Pass attached to your windshield, you can zoom right through toll plazas without even slowing down, allowing the government to take your money as painlessly as possible. But if for some reason you don’t have an I-Pass or you are like a certain minister and leave it at home, when you come to a toll plaza you have to take that little exit and go through the booths, while all the people with I-Passes are zooming by and pointing their fingers at you and laughing.

I wonder if sometimes we don’t look at serving others as detours in our lives. We’d much rather keep zooming ahead on our own path, but because we know it’s the “Christian” thing to do, we take that little exit from our full-speed schedules and help someone else out, all the while thinking consciously or subconsciously, “I can’t wait until I can get back to doing what I want to do.” When we do that, the person we are serving is no longer a person in our eyes; they are simply a means to an end, a by-product in our desire to “do the right thing.”

So maybe we serve others because of altruistic egoism, because it makes us feel better. Or maybe we serve because it reflects well on us to do so. That doesn’t mean we serve to get fame or publicity but it is human nature to want to be appreciated for our efforts. After all, how can our lives make a difference if no one sees us making a difference? But so much of what God calls us to do will not result in a happy ending. We simply will not always benefit from serving someone else. That meal at the soup kitchen may not change a person’s life; that dollar in the beggar’s cup isn’t going to rescue her from poverty. Why make the effort if we’re not going to see a return on our investment? Let’s face it: serving others has very little upside.

So if we don’t get results and we don’t get recognition and we don’t get to pad our spiritual resume, why serve? “We are called to share God’s love for us through compassionate service to others.” We serve, our mission statement says, as a response to God’s love for us. Through Jesus Christ, God poured out love on us in the most extravagant, lavish way. It’s like trying to pour the ocean into a coffee mug or put a tree in a sandwich bag. When you have that much love given to you, you can’t help but let it overflow in your life, and one of the ways we do that is to turn that love into action through our service to others. And we do this out of compassion. The word “compassion” literally means “to suffer with.” To have pity on someone is to look down on them from a position of power. To have compassion for someone is to look at them as equals, from a position of solidarity and kindness.

What informs and undergirds that service and what keeps it from becoming self-service or acts of altruistic egoism, is our relationship with God. Author Eric Sandras says that many of us are lured into being busy for God, while sacrificing true relationship with Him. A week full of service opportunities will never take the place of an hour spent with God. It is that hour, that time, that relationship that helps us understand the depth and magnitude of God’s love for us and why we do everything else we do. It is our time spent with God that inspires our desire to have compassion, to suffer with our fellow humans.

I heard the story of a woman who went to Africa on a mission trip to work with people with AIDS. When she got there she looked around and saw this overwhelming sickness and poverty and hunger and she said, “I just wanted to scream at God. And then I realized God was screaming at me.” When we spend time listening to God, we can more clearly hear the call to compassionately serve others.

Having that understanding of God’s love for us as a foundation for our serving allows us to serve authentically, even when we don’t serve perfectly. On one of our Habitat workdays a few years ago, I was put in charge of placing stakes in the ground so we could rope off some newly cemented driveways. Obviously, those in charge were able to pick up on my incredible stake-placing gifts. So I set about my task with much diligence, placing the stakes at just the right depth and distance from each other. I mean, it was a work of art! Of course, what didn’t realize was that the crew had already poured the concrete for the driveway next door, so that I was leaving footprints in the wet concrete while I was doing my stake-placing for the neighboring driveway. Strangely enough, I haven’t been invited back to place more stakes.

God does not call us to serve perfectly; God only calls us to serve. Our service doesn’t have to be perfect for God to bless it. If God only used perfect people, nothing would ever get done at this church. We’re all a bunch of misfits. We all have weaknesses. We all have faults. We all have failures. But guess what? God still loves us and still wants to use us. God doesn’t use perfect people; God only uses faithful people who are committed to sharing God’s love with others.

Ultimately, when we choose to serve, when we choose to share God’s love, we are doing what God has called us to do. Author David Goetz puts it this way: “Finding our purpose comes not from the results of service but the act of obedience. No matter what the call…inner freedom comes as I pursue truth, justice, and righteousness without needing to be seen as right or needing to see the results I want.” In other words we serve because we have been served, and are called to do the same.

We welcome people in. We equip them. And then we send them out, not with stars on their bellies, but with compassion in their hearts. As this church moves into a time of transition, living out this mission statement becomes even more important for this congregation. You don’t stop being the church just because a minister leaves. You are still, and always will be, Community Christian Church. Welcome. Equip. Share. That is your mission.

This week’s sermon – Called to Equip People…

 Hi everyone! This week’s sermon takes a closer look at the second line of our mission statement: “We are called to equip people with a Christ-centered faith that works in real life.” Have a blessed week!

SCRIPTURE

2 Timothy 3:10-17 – You, however, know all about my teaching, my way of life, my purpose, faith, patience, love, endurance, persecutions, sufferings—what kinds of things happened to me in Antioch, Iconium and Lystra, the persecutions I endured. Yet the Lord rescued me from all of them. In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil men and impostors will go from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived. But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.

Ephesians 4:1-13 - As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called— one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

 But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. This is why it says: ”When he ascended on high, he led captives in his train and gave gifts to men.” (What does “he ascended” mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions? He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.) It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God’s people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.

SERMON

Sermon Series – “Call to be…”
Sermon #3 – “Equip people…”
September 27, 2009

“The Lord never gives you more than you can handle.” You know that old Christian cliché. I don’t particularly like that saying. First of all, it implies that whatever bad things come our way, the Lord decided to give them to us. “Let’s see, Kory looks bored, let’s give him a sore throat and a flat tire.” Secondly, there are times in life when it DOES feel like we can’t handle all that’s on our plates. And when those times happen, it’s hard to find solace in these kinds of trite Christian sayings.

For some folks, right now is one of those times when it may feel like there’s more going on than we can handle. I’ve heard from a lot of people in the last few weeks who are anxious about this time of transition in the church. When faced with change and an unknown future, it may feel like God is absent and our burdens our too heavy. Is this one of those times when we DO have more than we can handle?

Just because the cliché may be overused doesn’t mean there’s not some truth in it. The second part of our mission statement says, “We are called to equip people with a Christ-centered faith that works in real life.” For me, the key to that phrase is “works in real life,” because what good is our faith if we only use it on Sunday morning? When real life happens in the form of change or crises or a series of flat tire frustrations, what role should our faith play in helping us cope?

In this sermon I’m not going to spend much time on the “how-to” part of this statement about equipping. There are a lot of very good, very different ways we can help equip people in their faith. Some of those we have done here at CCC, but in hindsight I wish we had done more in this area. The fact that we didn’t is solely my responsibility. But you will have continued opportunities to equip yourselves and others with the tools of faith.

The question to ask is not “How? but “Why?” Why should we be equipped? Can’t we just take it as it comes, roll with the punches, go with the flow? No. We can try, but at some point a wave of crisis is going to crash over us and we will find ourselves submerged in frustration and anxiety. When we’re at that point – and many of us have been there – we know that we need more than just our gumption and sunny dispositions to make it through. We need faith in something greater than ourselves, because that is what gives us hope in the face of trials.

So, we must equip ourselves with the tools God has made available to us. Some of those things are fairly obvious: the Bible, prayer, a community of faith. But I believe our equipping goes deeper than that. We can also equip ourselves with a worldview and understanding that fundamentally shapes how we see and make sense of the capriciousness and cruelty of life.

When I worked at the Louisville Courier-Journal newspaper, in order to be productive I had to learn the lingo of the newsroom. I had to understand galleys and typeset and proofs and agate before I could do my job. Once I learned what those things were and how to use them, I was ready to contribute.

Similarly, as we grow in faith we have to equip ourselves with a vocabulary that helps us make sense of the world and what happens in life. Words like “grace,” “forgiveness,” “love,” “peace,” “hope,” “trust” inform and deepen our faith, but if we don’t equip ourselves with an understanding of their Christian meanings, we lose the effect of their power.

Let’s take “hope” for example. Apart from a faith perspective, “hope” means wishing that something will turn out for the best. “I hope I win the lottery” or “I hope there are still some cookies left during Coffee Hour.” But from a Christian perspective, “hope” is grounded in the goodness and the dependability of God’s word. Through Christ’s death and resurrection, we have been given reason to hope for the future. We don’t hope that everything will be all right, because we all know too well that everything is not always all right. But we do know that no matter what happens, God is with us. So we have hope.

One of the ways we equip ourselves to handle real life is we learn the language of faith and what it means for us. But we can’t do that by studying it in a book. For example, I can tell you that a transmission is a compact, enclosed unit of gears that facilitates the transference of force to create torque and speed in an automobile, but that doesn’t mean I understand how a transmission works. The way we equip ourselves is through experience. I learn how things work by putting myself in situations to see them in action. We learn the language of faith but seeing grace, love, forgiveness, hope, trust in action.

One of the places we can do that is on Sunday morning. Hopefully when we gather, when we pray, when we sing, when we hear God’s word, when we take communion, we are seeing how these words are lived out in the community of faith. But that can’t be the only place we equip ourselves. To put the entire burden of responsibility for our spiritual formation on a 15-minute sermon or a once-a-week service is cheating ourselves out of the fullness of a vibrant faith. It would be like trying to gain an intimate understanding of the news by only reading the headlines on the front page. There’s so much more we are offered by God, and so much more potential within us to tap into.

Remember the show “McGyver”? Each week, Richard Dean Anderson and his totally rad mullet would rescue people from precarious situations through his ingenious handyman abilities. For example, he would pick a lock with a soggy waffle or craft a nuclear bomb out of a roll of duct tape and some toenail clippings. McGyver could do a lot with a little.

At times, Christians function like the anti-McGyver. They do a little with a lot. God has equipped us with amazing gifts and talents. Paul tells us in Ephesians that people were gifted to be apostles and prophets and evangelists and pastors and teachers. That list could go on and on. But notice Paul doesn’t say, “And then there are those folks who weren’t gifted at all. Too bad for them.” Every one of us has been equipped! God has given us what we need to live out a life of faith in the midst of difficult or trying circumstances.

Notice Paul’s reasoning for why God gave people these gifts. If we were to ask Paul, “Why should we equip people with a Christ-centered faith that works in real life?” he would say, “to prepare God’s people for works of service so that the body of Christ may be built up.” Our gifts are not to be hidden or used for ourselves, but are to be used in service to other people.

This is how I know that this church is going to be OK, just as I believe that my family and I will be OK as we move into a time of transition. I know the future is unknown, I know that can be anxious or scary, but God has prepared us. God has given us the tools we need to deal with whatever life brings. We are called to hone those skills, to develop those gifts, so that when the time comes we can put them to use in service to the body of Christ.

In our denomination’s tradition, we place a strong emphasis on what is called “the priesthood of all believers.” That means that work of God isn’t restricted to just the ordained clergy. We believe that everyone is a part of the priesthood, that everyone has gifts to use in service to God. In other words, everyone is a minister. Everyone has something to contribute. When I look at this church, I see an amazing group of ministers working hard to do God’s will. CCC is blessed with amazing lay leadership on the Board, an incredible search committee, a wonderful group of Sunday school teachers, a tremendous choir. Everyone has something to contribute. Even you. Especially you. God has equipped you.

There once was a boy who went to hear a famous speaker. The boy didn’t know if there was a meal included in the event, so he took a lunch with him in case he got hungry. While at this function, the speaker’s assistants realized that no one was in charge of getting refreshments for this large audience. One of the assistants saw this boy’s lunchbox, so he asked the boy if he could borrow it. The assistant took the lunch – just a couple of fish and a few loaves of bread – to the speaker, who say a prayer and miraculously multiplied that simple meal into a feast big enough to feed every person present, with doggie baskets left over.

Do you know that boy’s name? Me either. But not only did his simple act feed 5,000 people, his story has been instrumental in bring millions of people to faith. There’s no such thing as an insignificant ministry. We all have a gift to share. We all have been equipped to help build up the body of Christ.

On June 29th, as I was studying the book of I Timothy, I wrote this in my sabbatical blog: “Paul talks about Timothy’s calling here as if it’s an ongoing process. Timothy wasn’t called once and for all. Instead, each day he is called to fight the good fight, to keep the commands without spot or blame. A calling is a perpetual thing. We are not called just to do something; we are called to be something, and that takes a lifetime to get right.”

My prayer for this church, now and in the future, is that you will continue striving to answer God’s call. It takes a lifetime to get it right, and there are going to be missteps along the way. But the past doesn’t have to dictate the future. I know this church has faced difficult transitions before. I know the changes you face may concern you. But you are the body of Christ. You are God’s people. God has given you these amazing gifts – hope, trust, love, forgiveness and your own individual talents – and commissioned you to put them to use, to speak the language, to redefine challenges as opportunities. Never let the realities of life overshadow the fact that you have been equipped by God, and because of that, you can indeed handle anything. As scripture says, “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.”