This Week’s Sermon – Glimpsing God

Hey everyone! Winter is beginning to rear its frostbitten head here in the northern burbs of Chicago. Is it April yet? Have a great week!

SCRIPTURE – Exodus 33:12-23

Moses said to the LORD, “You have been telling me, ‘Lead these people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. You have said, ‘I know you by name and you have found favor with me.’ If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you. Remember that this nation is your people.” The LORD replied, “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

 Then Moses said to him, “If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?” And the LORD said to Moses, “I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name.”

Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.” And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. 20 But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.” Then the LORD said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.”

SERMON
Glimpsing God
Exodus 33:12-23
Oct. 26, 2008

I’ve shared with you before that I’m notorious within my family for present-guessing. I can almost always figure out what gift I’m getting, and I have a variety of techniques that would make CIA operative envious: stealth closet-sneaking, super-sensitive present-shaking, and the old reliable, intense interrogation of the present-giver. “Kory, I bought you something at the store today.” “Sniff, sniff…smells like a light blue button-up dress shirt.” Just last week Leigh told me she had bought a present for the girls and me and wasn’t going to tell me what it was until it arrive a week later. She told me this on Thursday afternoon; by the next morning, I knew what it was.

Behind my curiosity is a desire to know, and that desire goes far deeper than just presents. In fact, I believe ingrained in our human DNA is a fear of the unknown and a desire to eliminate that unknown by knowing more. We see that in Moses in today’s passage. As Moses continues to lead the Israelites toward the Promised Land, he pauses to have this frank conversation with God. In fact, Moses gets a bit uppity. “Look, God, you keep saying you are taking us to a land flowing with milk and honey, but I’m not convinced. How do I know this is true?” In fact, a more literal translation of the Hebrew says, “You have not let me know. You said, ‘I know.’ Show me that I may know.” We are embedded with a desire to know.

Moses then says to God, “If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you.” The biblical translation The Message says it this way: “If I am special to you, let me in on your plans.” The curiosity gene strikes again.

If I had a nickel for everyone someone said to me, “I just wish I knew God’s plan,” we wouldn’t need a Stewardship Campaign. In fact, I’ve said that many times myself. If only I could skip ahead and read the end of the story. If only I knew that if I step inside this darkness there will be light at the other end. God, you keep promising me a gift; can’t I get just get a sneak peek first?

“If you love me, if I am special to you, let me in on your plans.” Of course, that implies that if God doesn’t let us in on the plan, then God doesn’t love us, which we know is not true. Sometimes God’s plan is simply not understandable by us. That doesn’t stop us from asking or being frustrated when God doesn’t play the game our way, but it’s the truth we hear over and over again in scripture: The Lord says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.”

I’ve been in the dark enough in my life to know this is true. So many times I was sure I knew exactly what God’s plan was for me, only to find out that God had something infinitely better in mind. Have you experienced that? A circumstance comes along – a death, a health issue, a relationship crisis, a time of transition – and you’re just sure you know how things are going to work out or not work out, and then God reaches in and bring joy out of despair and hope out of hopelessness, or at least gives you the strength to put one foot in front of the other. We are not supposed to understand God’s ways, only trust in them.

Which makes Moses’ request not just bold but foolhardy. So imagine the surprise when God actually acquiesces to Moses’ request: “I will do the very thing you have asked because I am pleased with you and know you by name.” Psalm 103 says of God, “He made his way known to Moses, his deeds to the people of Israel.” Why does God let Moses in? What did Moses do to get a sneak peek, a glimpse of God?

I have to think that the nature of Moses’ request led to God’s action. Moses didn’t test or challenge God, something I think we are all guilty of at some point in our lives. “God, if you’ll just heal me, then I’ll believe.” “God, if you get me out of this, I promise to do better next time.” “God, if you’ll just give me a sign, I’ll be your faithful follower forever.”

Most of us would prefer to see God perform mighty miracles rather than have fellowship with God and learn God’s ways. It would have been easier to ask for a miracle. Moses could have said, “Beam us up to the Promised Land” or “Can you provide some jars of peanut butter to go with our manna?” Instead, he simply says,”Teach me your ways.” Don’t miraculously heal me; show me how to glorify you through this illness. Don’t magically make life better; show me how to live faithfully in the midst of this trial. How would our relationship with God be different it we prayed not for mighty miracles but for a deeper relationship?

The relationship Moses shared with God must have led to Moses’ next request. “Show me your glory.” Moses must have thought, “Well, I’ve come this far. If I’m going to ask for something, I might as well make it big.” The common belief in Moses’ time was that God’s presence was so glorious that no human being could see it and live. You would be awed to death!

Once again, God agrees. Sort of. God puts Moses in a cleft in the rock and passes by so that Moses can see God, but only from behind. What does Moses actually see here? We often give God human characteristics – its called anthropomorphizing – but I don’t think Moses experienced a divine mooning here. What he did experience was a deepening of his relationship with God. This is not the burning bush, which aroused his curiosity. This is not a series of plagues, which put the fear of God in him. This is not the parting of the sea or the giving of manna from heaven. This is God revealing himself to Moses.

No fair! I want that. I want to see what Moses saw. I may not be lugging around a couple million Israelites, I might not be able to even part the water in my bathtub, but I have my own burdens, I also need a pep talk from the Coach every now and then. I want the supernatural experience. I want the booming voice and the pillar of fire. I don’t want to trust all the time; sometimes I want to know.

I think Paul must have struggled with this same question, but he seems to have come to a peace with the lack of an answer. We know I Corinthians 13 as the “Love Chapter,” but in it is this intriguing verse: “Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.” How interesting that I am fixated on what I need to know, which has caused me to forget that what’s important is not what I know, but that I am known. Just as God knows Moses by name, God knows us by name. The fact that we are known is all we need to know, because it means that as we strive to follow God, God is with us. What are you going through? God knows. You are known.

If we doubt that, we can look at this story as an example. By following God, Moses is given a glimpse of God’s glory. We may not be able to see God’s face – even Moses wasn’t allowed that privilege – but we can see God’s back. We can see where God has been, what God has done, how God has left a mark in this world. As I look back on my life, especially at the difficult times or the moments of crossroads, I can now see that God was there with me. I couldn’t see it then, but looking back, I can see it now. God was there. And if God was there, that must mean God is here, now. It may not feel like it; we may not be as privy to the plans as we would like. But God is with us.

In Jewish tradition, it was customary for students of a rabbi, the master teacher, to follow the rabbi around, soaking in all that the rabbi had to say. They would follow closely on the rabbi’s heels for the entire day as the rabbi walked down dusty roads. By the end of the day, the students would have dust all over them from living in the rabbi’s wake.

Our goal, as Christians, is to be covered in the dust of our rabbi, to follow Jesus so closely that our lives are saturated with his teachings, his will, his love. Here’s one of the paradoxes of faith: The more we strive to connect, the more we ask God to teach us God’s ways, the more we pray for a deeper relationship with Christ, the more we may know, but the more we will be known.

What is your deepest desire? What do you want more than anything? When our deepest desire is not money or power, not miracles or good health, but to know God, we cross a line. We enter into a level of intimacy. We allow ourselves to be covered in the dust of the rabbi. And we reflect, albeit it imperfectly, the glory of God is this world. You know, I said earlier that we aren’t able to see God’s face. But I may be wrong there. Because I believe Jesus was God turning around, God showing us the glory of God’s face in human form. So my prayer is that when people look at you, at the way you live your life and weather your storms and remain faithful in your crises, they will see God’s glory revealed.

This Week’s Sermon – What Is God’s?

 Hi everyone! Fall is definitely settling in here in the Chicago area, so we’re getting out our jackets and sweaters. I miss summer already! This past Sunday was Stewardship Sunday at our church, so the message as a reflection on our role was stewards of all we have. I hope you find it helpful.

SCRIPTURE – Matthew 22:15-22
Then the Pharisees went out and laid plans to trap him in his words. They sent their disciples to him along with the Herodians. “Teacher,” they said, “we know you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren’t swayed by men, because you pay no attention to who they are. Tell us then, what is your opinion? Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” But Jesus, knowing their evil intent, said, “You hypocrites, why are you trying to trap me? Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, “Whose portrait is this? And whose inscription?” ”Caesar’s,” they replied. Then he said to them, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.” When they heard this, they were amazed. So they left him and went away.

SERMON
What Is God’s?
Matthew 22:15-22
October 19, 2008

Well, you may have guessed this by the scriptures we’ve read this morning: This is a stewardship sermon. (Pause). Good, no one got up and left. Deacons, you can unlock the doors now! I’ll be right up front and tell you this is not my favorite type of sermon to preach. That’s not because it’s not important, but because I believe stewardship often gets equated directly with money, and rightly or wrongly, churches have been accused of focusing too much on what people give.

So let me tell you a few things I’m NOT going to do this morning. First, I’m not going to make you feel guilty about your money. We shouldn’t feel guilty because we have it and it’s not my job to make you feel guilty if you’re not giving enough of it away. Yes, this church needs money to do ministry and we don’t get any funding from anyone else other than our congregation. That’s the reality of who we are and how we work. But what you give is between you and God and I don’t think fear and guilt are good reasons for people to give more.

I also realize the foolishness of preaching about stewardship in our current economic climate. This is not the time to be talking about money from the pulpit; only a fool would do that. But I also believe in my heart that is it at a tumultuous time like this when the church is most needed to be a place of stability in an unstable world. We need the church, now more than ever, and the only way the church can be the church is with the support of the congregation.

This is an especially interesting topic to talk about during election season. I’m always amazed to see what role organized religion plays in a national election and how faith is used or misused to pursue a political agenda. For fun I Googled the words “Jesus Christ” and our two political parties. You should try it sometime. On the same website I can buy one T-shirt that says Jesus was a Democrat and another that says Barack Obama is the antichrist. God bless America!

What we see happening to Jesus during a presidential election is not a lot different from what we do in our own lives, and that is to try and pin him down so that we can better manage his influence. If we keep Christ within the stained-glass windows of the church, then he doesn’t have much say over our finances or our decisions or our vote. If we can pigeonhole Jesus as a Republican or Democrat, we can say, “We got him!”

That’s not unlike what the Pharisees tried to do to Christ in our passage today. They didn’t like the influence he was having and they wanted to put him in his place, so they conspired with their political enemies the Herodians to trap Jesus. It would be like the Republicans and the Democrats working together to arrest Mr. Rogers. If only the Pharisees and the Herodians could ensnare Jesus in a cultural faux pas, then they could put him in his place. We got him!

So they devise this deceptive, devious question about paying taxes. If you think we have problems with taxes, be thankful you aren’t a first-century Jew. They lived under Roman occupation and the Romans decided they could tax whomever they wanted whenever they wanted for whatever they wanted. It was the government, so it didn’t have to make sense. Jews paid an income tax for their work, a census tax for being alive, and a poll tax for the privilege of living under the thumb of the Roman empire. It would be like us paying an air tax for breathing or a joy tax for smiling. “Was that a smirk? That will be two dollars.”

So Jesus is faced with this dilemma: Denounce the paying of taxes and be arrested as a traitor to the empire or affirm the paying of taxes and lose the popular support of the people. No matter which way he answers, the Pharisees and Herodians will be able to say, “We got him!”

But, of course, they don’t. Instead of directly answering their question, Jesus asks to see one of the coins that would be used to pay the tax. This coin was a Roman denarius, worth about a day’s wage. On it was the picture of the emperor and the inscription: Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine Augustus, high priest. So right away, this coin violated one-fifth of the Ten Commandments: do not acknowledge any other gods and do not worship graven images. The very existence of this coin and its inscription was blasphemous to God-fearing Jews.

So before he even answers their question, Jesus humorously exposes the hypocrisy of his accusers. When Jesus asks for one of these coins, where does it come from? From the pocket of a Pharisee, a holy leader standing in the temple, the most holy place in the Holy Land! In effect, Jesus says, “Can anyone show me one of these idolatrous, blasphemous, God-mocking coins?” And a Pharisee says, “Sure, got one right here.” The Pharisees deserve to be called hypocrites.

But Jesus’ main point in this passage is his answer to their trick question. After looking over the coin, Jesus provides the answer they didn’t expect: “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and give to God what is God’s.” Other translations say, “Render unto Caesar.” “To render” means “to give back.” Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s.

So what is Caesar’s? What do we have that belongs to our government? Well, certainly, a portion of our money. Like it or not, it’s a reality that our ancestors created a kind of government that relies on a portion of its citizens’ income to function. A good Christian has a duty to the government in return for the privileges the government provides. If you enjoy Caesar’s benefits, you should pay Caesar’s taxes. I don’t know about you, but I kind of like having paved roads, public parks and police officers and fire fighters. Thanks, Caesar! Jesus says, plain and simple, give to Caesar what is Caesar’s.

That’s the easy part. But Jesus finishes his answer with a much more involved directive: “Give to God what is God’s.” What is God’s? Everything is God’s! There’s nothing that we can name that is outside the realm of God. So if everything is God’s, then we must measure everything – including the actions of our government – against God’s word. Paying taxes doesn’t go against that. But from whom do we receive the blessings of our life, and to whom do we owe our life as a form of gratitude? God or Caesar?

Here’s another way to think about it. In the beginning, God made many things, and called them good. Then, in Genesis 1:27, God said, “Let us make humans in our image, in our likeness.” How do we know what belongs to Caesar? They bear his image. How do we know what belongs to God? They bear God’s image! We are God’s coins, God’s currency, bearing God’s image in this world.

Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s. In other words, the coin bears Caesar’s image; give it back to him. You bear God’s image; so give yourself back to God! Everything we have and everything we are belong to God. We are mere managers or stewards of these gifts, including our money. Properly managing our money means some of it is to go to the government, and to groceries, and to pay the light bill. But some of it must also go back to God as a way of giving thanks.

Saying that it must go back to God implies that it was God’s in the first place. But then how are we to live this on a day-to-day basis? What does this look like in our real lives? What is ours, what is Caesar’s, what is God’s? If we think that we deserve to all that we have, then we’re overinflating our own importance. But if we don’t take some credit for what we have, we’re undervaluing our own gifts, talents and work ethic. While part of me knows that all I have is God’s, there’s another part that says, “Yeah, but I worked hard for what I have and no one can take that away from me,” and this sense of entitlement can then make it harder for me to part with it.

So in this situation the word I remember is “entrusted.” I have been entrusted with what I have, including my children and my possessions. That doesn’t imply that I’m the owner, but it does imply a certain amount of responsibility and care that is based on trust. God has entrusted us with what we have: our own bodies, our earth, and our resources. They are not ours to keep any more than our children our ultimately ours to keep. Instead, they are ours to use for the purpose of furthering God’s kingdom here on earth. We are entrusted with these things in order to make God’s love known in this world.

But we live in a nation which prizes individual rights and encourages us to mold God into our image, not the other way around. When we make Jesus a Republican or Democrat or fit him into our own little box, we make him a lot easier to follow. But we are not called to love God until it becomes uncomfortable or to love our neighbor until it stops benefitting us or to give whatever is left over at the end of the month.

So the questions we must ask ourselves when we vote in elections or participate in stewardship programs are this: How is my response a reflection of God’s image in me? How is my decision an example of loving God and loving my neighbor? How is what I do a reflection on what I have been entrusted with? Peter says in his first letter that Christians are to fear God and honor the king. We say thanks to Caesar with our taxes. We say thanks to God with our lives.

Sermon from Sept. 28 – Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

 

Hi everyone! You how you sometimes zig when you mean to zag? I thought I posted this sermon two weeks ago, and instead I hit “Save” instead of “Publish,” which means it never made it to the blog. Whoops! So here it is, just a few weeks late. In this sermon I concluded my sermon series on “Spending the Day with God” by looking at how we end our days. There are a couple of different meanings to that statement which I explored in the sermon. I hope you find it to be a blessing!

SCRIPTURE – Exodus 13:17-22

When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter. For God said, “If they face war, they might change their minds and return to Egypt.” So God led the people around by the desert road toward the Red Sea. The Israelites went up out of Egypt armed for battle. Moses took the bones of Joseph with him because Joseph had made the sons of Israel swear an oath. He had said, “God will surely come to your aid, and then you must carry my bones up with you from this place.” After leaving Succoth they camped at Etham on the edge of the desert. By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.

SERMON
Spending the Day with God sermon series
#4 – Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep
Sept. 28, 2008

One of the things I love about having children is when they go to bed each night. What I mean by that is I enjoy the bedtime rituals that go along with it. Brushing the teeth, praying together, reading a book. Molly has a certain ritual that involves spraying “monster spray” in her room, which is actually just a bottle of Leigh’s hair spray. We have to do two spritzes in her room and one on her paper guardian angel that hangs over her bed. Let me tell you, after a couple years of monster spray, that’s the best coiffed guardian angel in Illinois.

Like most kids, my girls also have nightlights in their room. They need that protection and assurance against the dark. Interestingly, so did the Israelites. As Moses led them away from Egypt, you’ll notice that God was with them during the day as a pillar of cloud and at night was present as a pillar of fire, never leaving the people. God was the first night light.

Why do we need night lights? Because darkness is scary. It symbolizes the unknown and we tend to worry more about what we can’t see than what we can. And our culture preys upon that fear. I remember a popular kids’ television show in the 90s was “Are You Afraid of the Dark?” In the “Star Wars” movies, the bad guys belong to the “dark side” of the force. Poet Dylan Thomas wrote, “Do not go gentle into that good night; rage, rage against the dying of the light.” We don’t like the night.

Darkness is also where we are most vulnerable, where we have the least amount of control. Often in the Bible God would come to people in dreams because I believe it was the only time God could get a word in. Jacob dreams about a ladder of angels and in a dream another angel tells Joseph that his fiancée Mary is expecting. Dreams can be fertile ground for experiencing God.

But even our dreams are exploited for their fear factor. Movies like “Monsters Inc.” and books like “Where the Wild Things Are” send the message that when we close our eyes, we expose ourselves to the creepy crawlies of the night, the Boogeymen who lurk in the shadows. I remember one night I was spending the night at my grandparents’ house and in their room at the foot of their bed. Just as I was drifting off to sleep I swore I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I screamed and jumped up. Somehow my grandparents managed not to have heart attacks. My grandfather turned on all the lights and searched the house, but of course no one was there. The next day we bought a night light.

While we’ve been conditioned to see end of the day as fraught with fear, I believe God calls us to see the end of the day in a different light, so to speak. As we finish our sermon series today on “Spending the Day with God,” I want us to consider other perspectives on the coming of “that good night.”

When I was younger I wasn’t happy to see darkness fall, not only because of my childish fears but because it meant the fun of the day was over. Now, as an adult and a parent and a wage-earner, I welcome the end of the day. After whatever morning quiet time I’m given, I hit the ground running and usually don’t stop until the girls are finally put to bed with their night lights on. There’s nothing scary about that time for me!

But I believe the anxiety the night brings goes deeper than just the end of the day. We adults bring our own Boogeymen with us into the dark of night. The coming of the night is not just the time for summing up one day but also a reminder of our mortality. At some point in our lives, our days will ultimately end and night will settle in permanently for our time here on earth. You remember the children’s prayer? “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; and if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Nothing says “Sweet dreams” like a nice prayer about dying in your sleep. No wonder we need night lights!

Each day, as the time winds down and our bodies prepare to rest, we close our eyes, trusting that we’ll open them again the next morning. A few months ago, I woke up in the night with a terrible case of heartburn, the first time I’ve ever had it. As I lay there with these mysterious chest pains, I remember thinking, “What if this is it? What if I won’t see the sun again? Did I do everything I wanted to do? Did I say everything to people I wanted to say?” Each time we close our eyes, we are assuming that we will open them again. I wonder if we take that for granted.

I’ve found that as I’ve gotten older, a lot of my anxiety about the nighttime is not caused by what could happen in the coming night, but by what didn’t happen during the day. We stay so busy that often times when we get to the evening we don’t intentionally stop to rest so much as we just run out of gas. If we could, many of us would keep on going well into the night because we know there is so much still to be done. I said a few weeks ago that often my first thoughts in the morning are about my to-do list. I believe that’s because my last thoughts the night before are of the same thing.

And yet, what God offers us each night is a chance to release whatever burdens we bring with us to the night. Whatever went wrong, whatever unfortunate words were spoken, whatever resentments were harbored, the night is a chance to let them go. In my efforts to stay healthy, I’ve noticed that I weigh less in the morning than I do at night. So guess when I do all my weighing? You could argue that drop in weight is because I go all night without eating, but I have to wonder what other burdens I’m letting go of that makes me a little lighter in the morning.

I went to see a movie when I was young called “The Neverending Story.” I liked it well enough until about halfway through the movie, when the name of the film struck me. “The Neverending Story.” Oh my gosh! I’ll never get out of here! I’ll never see my parents again! I’ll have to subsist on popcorn and coke for the rest of my life! I find it a bit ironic that they made “The Neverending Story II.”

I think Moses can help us out here. After schlepping the Israelites around the wilderness for 40 years, Moses is finally on the cusp of the Promised Land, ready to enter into the territory God has been promising for generations. Except Moses can’t go in. He disobeyed God many years back, and because of that, God has restricted Moses from entering the Promised Land. Moses dies on Mt. Nebo, literally overlooking the abundant land which he has been forbidden from entering. It’s a bit like going to sleep with things still left on your to-do list.

For Moses, that’s where his day and his days ended, on the mountaintop overlooking the Promised Land. And it’s not only his story that ends here. It’s also the end of the Torah, the first five books of the Bible. The Torah doesn’t end with the Israelites frolicking in the land of milk and honey; you have to wait until the book of Joshua for that. No, the Torah, which for a long time was the Bible, ends poised on the edge of the Promised Land, not in it.

The reality is that at the end of each day, there is unfinished business. I’ve ended many days thinking, “If I just had a little more time, I could get done all I wanted to get done.” Which of course is only a rationalization on my part, because as soon as I finished what I thought was the last thing, there will be three more things to be done, and I’ll sleep terribly worrying about them. Maybe it’s a task that didn’t get done; maybe it’s a phone call that didn’t get made; maybe it’s time with someone that didn’t get spent; maybe it’s a word of thanks or forgiveness that didn’t get spoken. Each day we live will be imperfect. Even those most glorious of days will have their blemishes.

And ultimately, we are powerless to change that. What we do have the power to do is to turn to God, our constant companion during the day, and say, “You know? This day was OK. Some good, some bad. Thanks for being there with me. Help me to do better tomorrow. Better yet, help me be better tomorrow.” When we close our eyes, our hope and our trust is that we will have a tomorrow when we can set the record straight and say things a little calmer, smarter, or kinder, a tomorrow when we can finish working on the unfinished business, a day when we can continue living our never-ending story.

For Christians, that’s more than just a movie title. Dylan Thomas’ phrase “the dying of the light” isn’t in our vocabulary. Do you remember what happened at Jesus’ crucifixion? Matthew says, “From the sixth hour until the ninth hour, darkness came over the land.” And then Christ died. Darkness had won.

But God had some unfinished business. And in three days, the light shone again in such a way that darkness was defeated forever. We have no reason to fear the dark because the Light of the World has come to us. As St. Clement said, “Christ turns all our sunsets into dawn.”

So we come to the end of our day. We’ve welcomed God into our lives in the morning, walking with God during the day, and placed our trust in God as we close our eyes at night. Was it a perfect day? No. None of them are. But because God was with us, it was a good day. That’s a good reason to rejoice, give thanks, and prepare to start a new day tomorrow. Thanks be to God.

This Week’s Sermon – Rejoice in the Lord!

Hi everyone! I sometimes use the Revised Common Lectionary, which is a three-year cycle of scripture readings which helps me decide on what to preach each Sunday. Often times the lectionary readings for the coming Sunday speak directly to what’s going on in the world. This Sunday’s reading was especially appropriate: “Do not be anxious about anything.” Have a blessed week!

SCRIPTURE – Philippians 4:1-9
Therefore, my brothers, you whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, that is how you should stand firm in the Lord, dear friends! I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to agree with each other in the Lord. Yes, and I ask you, loyal yokefellow, help these women who have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel, along with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life. Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

SERMON

Rejoice in the Lord
Philippians 4:1-9
October 12, 2008

I’m a bit amazed that I’ve never preached on this passage before, because it played a major role in me being ordained. Part of the ordination process in Indiana involves going before an Ordination Council, a group of clergy and laypeople who are charged with determination your readiness for ordination. To call it an inquisition may be a bit strong, although a few times I did feel a bit like a suspect on “Law & Order.” “So Kory, let’s talk about Jesus’ crucifixion – did you have anything to do with it?”

My Ordination Council came at a difficult time for me. I had only been out of the hospital for a week after being diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. While I was excited about being ordained, I had other things on my mind. After a series of difficult questions, one of the laypeople, an Elder from my home church named Joanne, asked, “Is there one scripture passage that you find to be especially meaningful?” And without even stopping to think I said, through my tears, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Do not be anxious about anything but in everything present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard you hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” The strange thing is that I had never memorized that verse and didn’t even know that I knew it until I opened my mouth to say it.

This section of Philippians has some amazing words of comfort and hope. In fact, the whole letter centers on the theme of joy in the midst of difficulties, something we all need to hear, as did the Philippians. Not only was the church dealing with persecution because of their faith, but they were also experiencing some in-fighting. Paul addresses this when he says things like, “Do everything without complaining or arguing” and “conduct yourselves in a manner worth of Christ.” I bet when those words were read, Euodia said to herself, “Amen, Paul! I sure hope Syntyche is listening” and Syntyche was thinking, “Thanks Paul, that’s just what Euodia needs to hear.” So imagine how these two ladies felt when the letter calls them out specifically. Gulp!

We don’t know who they are or what they are fighting about, but Paul calls on the whole resources of the church to help mend this division. No effort is too great to maintain peace in a church. I know of way too many churches that have split or dissolved because it was a lot easier to keep disagreeing than to agree with each other in the Lord. Church should be the last place where there is conflict, yet when you work side by side with someone, you will occasionally elbow each other. Whenever two people are in close proximity, there’s a good chance for friction and Paul calls on the whole church to help stop this small fire from consuming the church.

I feel sorry for Euodia and Syntyche here. These two ladies have gone down in history for this one thing: being in conflict with each other. Reading this made me step back and look at my life right now and think, “Suppose I was to go down in history with one thing being known about me. What would that one thing be? Is there something in my life right how that I would rather people not know about me?”

I believe that’s the question Paul is getting at later in this section when he starts talking about the things Christians should think about. “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. And the peace of God will be with you.” My guess is Euodia and Syntyche did a lot of thinking about each other, and I doubt their thoughts were lovely or admirable, which means the peace of God was probably not with them. If we are lacking peace in our own lives, we may want to take an inventory on what kind of things we’re thinking about.

I believe Paul gives this guidance about this because he knows there is so much in this world that seeks to distract us away from God. Paul was certainly susceptible to that. The irony of this letter is that while sitting in a prison cell, Paul writes to group of poor people, many of them slaves, who had zero security in this world. And yet Paul says, “Rejoice.” In fact, he says it twice, as if we aren’t going to believe him the first time. “Rejoice!” C’mon, Paul you’ve got to be kidding. “Again I say rejoice!”

But he knows this is hard, so he follows up that exhortation with the phrase, “Do not be anxious about anything.” Do those words ring a bit hollow to us right now? Maybe a more apt phrase would be, “Try not to be anxious about everything!” It seems like every day the world gives us something more to worry about. Life is a worrying thing. There is so much that is out of our control, out of our hands, and that feeling of helplessness is like an anxiety factory in our brain.

Where I grew up in southern Indiana there was a dry ice factory with two huge smokes stacks and every day big puffs of white smoke would stream up from it. Because I was young and didn’t own a hybrid car and was not at all concerned about the size of my carbon footprint, I thought this was cool and I called it the “cloud-making factory.”

What I envision in our brains is this little factory that makes puffs of anxiety that are constantly filling the space in our heads. There’s a cloud of anxiety about the economy, our children, our earth, our finances, the noise our car is making, our increasingly frail parents or loved ones. Puff, puff, puff, until our heads are filled with anxiety, leaving no room for other thoughts like hope.

What Paul is encouraging us to do is to put a stopper in those smokestacks in the form of prayer. “In everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” Do you ever not take something to God in prayer? Maybe you think God’s too busy, or can’t really do anything about it, or your request is too small or too selfish. But Paul doesn’t put any qualifiers on this. “In everything” he says. When Molly draws a picture or Sydney makes a craft, they come running to show us. Do we say, “Don’t bother me with that, Molly. I don’t have time.” Of course not! If we as parents make time to listen to children’s requests, why shouldn’t our Parent in heaven do the same? There is nothing too great for God’s power and nothing too small for God’s care.

Paul says that taking our requests to God leads to the imparting of peace. This is not just absence-of-conflict peace. This is what the Jews call “shalom,” the peace of God which passes all our understanding and transforms all our anxiety. Before God’s peace, we had anxiety because in this situation, there’s nothing we can do about it. Now, through our prayer, we can also have peace because in this situation, there’s nothing we can do about it! It’s now in God’s hands. The peace of God doesn’t mean we escape life’s dangers and dilemmas, but it does mean we have the ability to live with tranquility in the midst of them.

That peace, which Paul says stands like a guard over our hearts and minds, then allows us to live out the virtues Paul lists that I mentioned before. I read several different translations of that list and want to share a few of them with you. Just listen to how these words of Paul are translated. As I share them, I encourage you to ask yourself, “Does this describe what’s in my mind?”

One of the words Paul uses is “true.” That also translated as “honest” or “honorable.” But one translation says, “that which has the dignity of holiness upon it.” Some of our thoughts are worthy of being called “holy,” others aren’t. Are our thoughts characterized by things that have the dignity of holiness upon them?

Another word Paul uses is translated in our pew bibles as “lovely.” I also found it rendered “attractive” or “winsome.” But here’s the one I liked the most: “that which calls forth love.” Do our thoughts call forth love? Or do they call forth something else?

The last one I want to point out is what our bibles call “praiseworthy.” This was also translated as “fair-spoken.” But what grabbed me was this: “things which are fit for God to hear.” Do we let the anxiety factory cloud our minds with worry? Like Euodia and Syntyche, do we let our mind wander to thoughts of animosity, conflict and judgment? Or do we dwell on things in our mind which are fit for God to hear?

Having a mind that works as Paul says here is not a one-time event that we accomplish or get right. It’s a process. Some days we’ll do better than others. Some days our thoughts will be pure, others not. Some days our thoughts will be admirable, others not. Some days our thoughts will have the dignity of holiness or will call forth love or will be fit for God to hear, others not. That’s why Paul says we are to put these things into practice. The word “practice” implies we have to do it over and over again in order to get better at it.

If we think on something often enough, it will come to dominate more and more of our thinking. When we are surrounded by such anxiety and sordidness and fear, the temptation is to let our minds dwell on such things, and before you know it we find we’re worrying more and thanking God less. But let’s not forget that “Rejoice” is a scriptural command. Paul says it not once but twice, a command to find joy in the midst of this worrying thing called life. This is not a command to ignore the realities we face, but to see God at work in the midst of them, to find the things that are pure and true and beautiful in a world of impurity and falsehood and ugliness. And our hope is the more we practice, the closer we get to God’s peace. We may never fully get there in this life, but in this unstable world in which we live, isn’t the idea of peace worth the effort?