Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] March 31, 2024 “Puzzled by Life” Luke 24: 1-12 – The Message At the crack of dawn on Sunday, the women came to the tomb carrying the burial spices they had prepared. They found the entrance stone rolled back from the tomb, so they walked in. But once inside, they couldn’t find the body of the Master Jesus. 4-8 They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this. Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there. The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship. The men said, “Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up. Remember how he told you when you were still back in Galilee that he had to be handed over to sinners, be killed on a cross, and in three days rise up?” Then they remembered Jesus’ words. 9-11 They left the tomb and broke the news of all this to the Eleven and the rest. Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them kept telling these things to the apostles, but the apostles didn’t believe a word of it, thought they were making it all up. 12 But Peter jumped to his feet and ran to the tomb. He stooped to look in and saw a few grave clothes, that’s all. He walked away puzzled, shaking his head. (The sermon is based on a compilation of stories, not just this one from Luke) The women were puzzled. Peter was puzzled, too, and left the empty tomb shaking his head. “Well, I guess that’s it.” An odd response for a guy who has always been impulsive, emotional, known for saying whatever he thinks in the moment only to discover he stuck his foot in his mouth big time. How could he just walk away puzzled? Peter’s an interesting character who, give him credit, tried really hard and sometimes had moments of great insight followed by moments of complete failure to understand. In other words, fortunately, he’s a lot like us. It all started one morning after a night of fishing but catching no fish. Peter and his partners were bone tired, washing their nets before heading home to sleep. On shore, there was a commotion. A crowd was pressing in to listen to a traveling preacher. The guy asked Peter to row out a little way so he could talk to the crowd. Peter reluctantly obliged, but he actually owed the guy a favor. Just a few nights before, he came over for dinner and before it even began, healed Peter’s mother-in-law. But then he asked Peter for an even bigger favor. Row out, throw your nets back in and try again. Peter complained that they were exhausted, but OK. And when they did as Jesus said, so many fish jumped into the nets that they started pulling the boats down. But what was Peter’s response to all this abundance? Not gratitude. Not, “hey, can you come back tomorrow and do this again?” No, he told Jesus, “Get away from me. I'm not worthy of this.” Jesus said, “Get over yourself and come follow me.” He immediately dropped everything for the vague promise to now “fish for people.” Peter was all in, not knowing at all what he was in for. He was all in. One time, Jesus sent his disciples out ahead to cross the Sea of Galilee while he stayed behind to have some alone time. In the morning, Jesus set out to rejoin the disciples. Meanwhile, out in the middle of the lake, the disciples were in full panic. Violent winds and waves threatened to swamp the boat. While they are hanging on for dear life, one of them with his head over the side emptying the contents of his stomach noticed something that looked like a ghost coming toward them. They shrieked in fear, but Jesus said, “Hey guys, it’s just me” Then, without really thinking about it, Peter told Jesus, “Command me to come to you on the water.” “Sure, come on in.” Peter boldly stepped out of the boat and began walking but when he realized he was actually walking on water, he freaked out and began to sink. He cried out to Jesus, “Rescue me!” Jesus did and asked, “Why’d you doubt? You were doing it! Why have you so little faith?” A little while later, Jesus asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And then he turned to Peter, “Who do you say that I am.” He replied, “You are the Messiah” and Jesus told Peter, “You’re right! You got it, Peter!” And then immediately, like two minutes later, Peter got it completely wrong. Jesus told his disciples that it was now necessary for him to go to Jerusalem and suffer at the hands of the religious leaders and the Roman Empire, that he would be killed and then be raised up alive on the third day. But Peter wasn’t willing to hear of such a thing and took hold of Jesus and began scolding him. “God forbid, Lord! This can’t happen to you.” But Jesus said to him, “Get behind me, Satan.” Peter expected a messiah who would vindicate them and punish their enemies. Someone who would promise “I am your retribution” – not someone who would be killed. Not a messiah who would suffer. That represents failure. But it turns out, all that love stuff Jesus kept talking about, he actually meant – that’s how we save the world, not through violence for violence, not through hate for hate, not evil for evil. So anyway, as they moved toward Jerusalem, Jesus continued to repeat what would happen to him, but then said something even worse. Jesus told Peter that when all these things were happening, he would deny him three times. Peter blurted out, “Never! I would never ever do such a thing. I’ll die alongside you before I deny you.” Let’s see how long he can hold on to that promise. It was shortly after that Jesus took Peter and two others to pray with him in a garden. All he asked them to do was stay awake while he prayed. Instantly they fell asleep. Jesus came back and asked why they couldn’t stay awake for me, for just one hour? Jesus told them to stay awake while went back to pray. They fell asleep again. Three times this happened, but it gets worse. Just then, their eyes still sleepy, soldiers came to arrest Jesus, tipped off to his whereabouts by one of his own disciples who betrayed him with a kiss. In response, Peter grabbed a sword and cut off the ear of one of the soldiers. Jesus rebuked the use of violence. Do you still not understand? Do you still not understand what kind of messiah I am? Jesus had compassion and healed the soldier’s ear and was then led off to appear before the authorities. But before Jesus could even reach out his hand, Peter and the others vanished, trying to avoid being arrested too. He tried to hide in the crowd but someone noticed him and said, “You were with him.” “No, I wasn’t.” Someone else said, “I saw him too.” “I don’t even know who that man is.” Questioned a third time, Peter said emphatically, “I told you. I don’t know that man.” And just then, Peter heard the rooster crow, just like Jesus had said it would, and he broke down in tears. During the sham trials and false testimony that followed, not a single one of his disciples stood up in his defense. So much for Peter’s bravado about standing alongside him, to even die with him. As Jesus was whipped and mocked, he couldn’t look into the crowd to see even one sympathetic disciple among the Twelve. They were absent as he was forced to drag the instrument of his own execution down the street. As he hung from that cross, only the women held vigil and when they took Jesus down off the cross, they paid attention to where they put his body so they could come back after the Sabbath and prepare him for a proper burial. That’s when they discovered his body was missing and they were puzzled. Who could have taken it? But they were reminded of what Jesus had been saying all along and they believed and they raced to tell the other disciples. He is risen! The men didn’t believe a word of it. An idle tale, they said, which is just cleaned up language for what the disciples really thought: Garbage. BS, actually. However, at least Peter’s curiosity was sparked. He ran to see for himself. He looked into the same tomb and was puzzled. He didn’t run back to tell the disciples. He simply walked away shaking his head. An odd response since Peter’s usual comeback was to overreact, act impulsively, make impossible promises, stick his foot in his mouth. For him to simply be puzzled is completely out of character. I understand it, though. The women and Peter were puzzled because the events of that morning didn’t fit their expectations. Why wouldn’t they be puzzled? Life doesn’t follow death. Death follows death. They looked in and expected to see evidence of death. All they saw was some grave clothes but no dead and decaying body. On the other side of his death, Jesus appeared to the disciples a few times including one morning when he pulled Peter aside and asked him three questions. Three questions representing the things that mattered to Jesus. First of all, he didn’t ask, “Peter, do you believe my mother was a virgin?” He didn’t ask, “Do you believe all the miracles happened exactly as they will be written down when the story is told?” He didn’t ask, “Peter, do you believe in the bodily resurrection?” He asked, “Do you love me?” Peter replied, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And he asked again, “Peter, do you love me.” “Yes, I just told you,” wondering if Jesus may have been holding a grudge for all those misunderstandings, and continually falling asleep, and using violence against the soldier. Oh yeah, those three denials and ultimate abandonment. Jesus asked a third time, “Peter, do you love me?” “Jesus, why do you keep asking me. Don’t you believe me?” Jesus didn’t make it any more complicated than that, even though the church makes Easter perhaps the most complicated day in the whole year. We ask questions like, was Jesus really resurrected? How? Did Jesus actually walk on water? And we try to explain. But does it matter? All that mattered to Jesus was, do you love me? And if so, then feed my sheep. Do you love me? Then tend to the poor, the captive, those yearning for liberation, those grieving painful loss, all my people – the peacemakers, the pure in heart, those who hunger and thirst for justice. Do you love me? Then take care of each other. The life and teachings, the death and resurrection of Jesus teach us: Love isn’t a feeling. It’s how we treat one another. Love isn’t just for the loveable. It’s for those hardest to love. Love is a sacrifice. But, Jesus said, I’ve just shown you how. I’ve shown you the kind of love that prevails. Do you love him? Then love one another. That’s it. Be the love you want to see in the world. Be the change you want to see in the world. Be the hope the world needs to hear today. The text for the sermon is a compilation of gospel stories, not just what is reported in Luke
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Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] March 17, 2024 “More Humility” John 13: 1-15 – Common English Bible Before the Festival of Passover, Jesus knew that his time had come to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them fully. 2 Jesus and his disciples were sharing the evening meal. The devil had already provoked Judas, Simon Iscariot’s son, to betray Jesus. 3 Jesus knew the Father had given everything into his hands and that he had come from God and was returning to God. 4 So he got up from the table and took off his robes. Picking up a linen towel, he tied it around his waist. 5 Then he poured water into a washbasin and began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he was wearing. 6 When Jesus came to Simon Peter, Peter said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” 7 Jesus replied, “You don’t understand what I’m doing now, but you will understand later.” 8 “No!” Peter said. “You will never wash my feet!” Jesus replied, “Unless I wash you, you won’t have a place with me.” 9 Simon Peter said, “Lord, not only my feet but also my hands and my head!” 10 Jesus responded, “Those who have bathed need only to have their feet washed, because they are completely clean. You disciples are clean, but not every one of you.” 11 He knew who would betray him. That’s why he said, “Not every one of you is clean.” 12 After he washed the disciples’ feet, he put on his robes and returned to his place at the table. He said to them, “Do you know what I’ve done for you? 13 You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and you speak correctly, because I am. 14 If I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet, you too must wash each other’s feet. 15 I have given you an example: Just as I have done, you also must do. Two weeks after Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio became Pope Francis in March 2013, he shocked and scandalized the world by his choice of whose feet to wash in the annual Maundy Thursday ritual. Prior to Francis, popes in modern times had only washed the feet of priests – meaning, all men – within the ornate spaces of the Vatican. But on his first Maundy Thursday as pope, Francis went to a juvenile detention center in Rome and washed and kissed the feet of 12 young people – including two women and two Muslims. Though unprecedented for a modern pope, in 2001 when he was Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Francis went to a hospice to wash and kiss the feet of people living with AIDS. In 2005 he went to a maternity hospital and in 2008, he washed and kissed the feet of 12 people in a drug rehab center. It would only be one of the first times people were unhappy with this radical cleric. Peter was also shocked and horrified, scandalized by such an idea, that he refused to allow Jesus to wash his feet. “You will never wash my feet!” Peter declared. He and the disciples watched as Jesus got up from the table, took off his robes, and tied a linen towel around his waist. Jesus poured water into a washbasin and one by one began to wash the feet of his disciples – reversing their roles. Imagine the honored guest at a banquet getting on his or her knees to take on the most humble of tasks. But just six days earlier there had been another scandalous foot washing. Gathered around the supper table, the disciples watched as Mary, the sister of Martha, who probably cooked that meal… They watched as Mary entered the room with a bottle of expensive perfume, so expensive it cost the equivalent of a year’s wages. She opened the bottle, startling their nostrils and filling the room with the powerful scent. She then loosened her hair, bent down in front of Jesus, rubbed perfume on his feet, and then wiped his feet with her hair. Judas questioned the expense, a waste of money, he claimed. But Jesus praised Mary. “Leave her alone,” he said. She bought this for my burial. While the other disciples still refused to believe Jesus would soon be killed, Mary listened and had been busy preparing for it. In the morning, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey while people waved palm branches and shouted Hosanna. Crowds gathered around him while he taught, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains only a single grain. But if it dies, it will bear much fruit. Those who love their lives will lose them, but if you let it go, you will have it forever.” He was teaching about the necessity of his own death. And so, six days earlier, supper at Mary and Martha’s, entrance into Jerusalem that next morning, and now it’s a few days later. Jesus knew the time had come. Because his disciples had repeatedly proven they couldn’t comprehend his teachings, he decided to teach them by example. So, he got up from the table, took off his robes… The disciples stopped their chatting about the events of the day. He tied a linen cloth around his waist… What is he doing? Why is he pouring water into the wash basin? Why is he getting down on the ground? No one dared question what he was doing. No, not you, Lord. This was something for only a servant to do. When Jesus came around to him, ever impulsive Peter demanded that Jesus will never wash his feet. Rebuffed and always with a flair for the dramatic, he then told Jesus to not only wash his feet but his hands and head too. But Peter has missed the point. This isn’t a lesson in hygiene. It’s a lesson in humility. This is how my followers are to act. When he finished, Jesus put on his robes and returned to his place at the table and asked them, “Do you know what I’ve done for you?” Wisely, Peter chose to say nothing. “If I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet, you too must wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example: Just as I have done, you also must do.” After this shock and scandal, he revealed to the group an even more shocking scandal: one of them would betray him. The disciples looked around at each other with horror. Who would do such a thing? Jesus replied, “The one who takes this bread.” Just then, Judas took the bread and Jesus told him, go quickly and do what you are about to do. When Judas left the room, Jesus reiterated again that he would be with them only a little while longer and so, “I give you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other. This is how everyone will know that you are my disciples, when you love each other.” Peter asked, “But where are you going?” Jesus told him that he couldn’t follow him now, but he could later. “But Lord, why can’t I follow you now? I’ll give up my life for you!” “Not so quickly, Peter. Before the rooster crows, you’re going to deny me three times.” And with that the curtain closes and the chapter comes to an end. But back up a minute. Do you realize, Judas was at the table when Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. Even though he knew what would happen very soon, Jesus washed the feet of Judas too. This point was made by George Marion McClelland. George was a Black Congregational minister born in 1860. Interesting story. George studied at Fisk University in Nashville, a school started by Congregational missionaries who followed right behind the Union Army and set up schools on what had been battlegrounds – a school still related to the UCC. George graduated in 1885 and started work as a minister in Louisville Kentucky while also studying for what we now call a Master of Divinity at the Congregational seminary in Hartford, Connecticut. George was a published poet and author of short prose while at the same time teaching Latin and English before becoming a high school principal. Busy guy! I wanted to give his background before reading his beautiful poem. Born in a time of slavery, he was raised during the hope of reconstruction, hopes that were crushed when the federal government turned their back and gave free reign to the former enslavers to terrorize those who dared to live free. And yet, McClellan said, Christ washed the feet of Judas! The dark and evil passions of his soul, His secret plot, and sordidness complete, His hate, his purposing, Christ knew the whole. And still in love he stooped and washed his feet. Christ washed the feet of Judas! And thus a girded servant, self-abased, Taught that no wrong this side of the gate of heaven Was ever too great to wholly be effaced, And though unasked, in spirit be forgiven. And so if we have ever felt the wrong Of trampled rights, of caste, it matters not, What e’er the soul has felt or suffered long, Oh, heart! This one thing should not be forgot: Christ washed the feet of Judas. Those words were controversial then just as they are controversial now as they could be seen as excusing those who enslaved in the past or who persecute today. Even so, his poem causes us to really consider: How far did Jesus mean to go? Jesus taught, You have heard it said, ‘Love your neighbor,’ and ‘Hate your enemy.’ But I say, love your enemies. “God gives the sun for warmth and nourishing rain to everyone – the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that. In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”[1] What does it mean to follow Jesus? Well, what did he teach us by his own example in today’s text? Christianity is about service, not doctrine. We’re called to humility and sacrificial love, not power. We’re invited to be vulnerable, not controlling. Having one’s feet washed feels very vulnerable. Few people feel comfortable with the practice, but it is just as sacramental as communion. In fact, for John, this is communion. This is the last supper. In John there are no words of institution involving bread and wine. In the first three gospels we remember Jesus by eating and drinking together. In the Gospel of John, we remember Jesus by following his example to serve one another by washing one another’s feet. Those who have never had this experience could come on Maundy Thursday and choose, if you wish, to participate in a foot washing. I know it’s uncomfortable and makes us feel vulnerable, so it’s only an option during the service, but worth considering as we seek to deepen our faith – vulnerability, humility, sacrificial love. Some are trying to make Christianity in America more powerful and dominant over society. As I’ve said before, that is at odds with the actual teachings of Jesus. Rev. Benjamin Cremer has a brilliant response: Christianity in the United States doesn’t need more political power. It needs less arrogance. It needs less entitlement. It needs less animosity towards those who are different. Christianity in America needs more humility. It needs more generosity. It needs more compassion and understanding. There are few passages in the gospels that more powerfully teach this lesson. “If I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet, you too must wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example: Just as I have done, you also must do.” To even Judas. I see it as a call to be a healing presence in the world. What the world needs now is love. Are you ready? [1] Matthew 5: 43-48 – The Message Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] March 10, 2024 “Don’t Just Do Something” Matthew 17: 1-9 – Common English Bible Six days later Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and brought them to the top of a very high mountain. 2 He was transformed in front of them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as light. 3 Moses and Elijah appeared to them, talking with Jesus. 4 Peter reacted to all of this by saying to Jesus, “Lord, it’s good that we’re here. If you want, I’ll make three shrines: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 5 While he was still speaking, look, a bright cloud overshadowed them. A voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son whom I dearly love. I am very pleased with him. Listen to him!” 6 Hearing this, the disciples fell on their faces, filled with awe. 7 But Jesus came and touched them. “Get up,” he said. “Don’t be afraid.” 8 When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus. 9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus commanded them, “Don’t tell anybody about the vision until the Human One[a] is raised from the dead.” One cold winter morning, the matriarch of a small New England church was nervous when she came to worship. Not that the sidewalks might be icy or that the boiler might not have kicked in overnight to warm the sanctuary. Betty was anxious because it was the first Sunday with their new pastor. It wasn’t a Congregational Church, so she had had no say in the pastor assigned to them. She and many others in her coffee klatch traded rumors that this pastor had been a troublemaker in the past and might try to shake things up. But by the end of the service, Betty was reassured. As she grasped the hand of the new pastor, Betty told her that all her fears had been relieved. “I listened carefully to your sermon and I am so happy. You were wonderful! You didn’t say a thing!” [1] In contrast, a white pastor in 1960s Alabama, inspired by the civil rights movement, began preaching about issues of race, every week, preaching from such passages as Ephesians, “in Christ’s flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.” One by one, he preached the church down to just a handful of people. He then remarked, “Good. Now we can become a Christian church.” In seminary we were told that we should “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Among your group of peers, freshly called to ministry, that sounds fun and exciting – in practice, it’s a little scary. But, in case Peter thought his call to follow Jesus would be an exciting fun-filled adventure, Jesus afflicted him with some uncomfortable clarity. The text today begins by saying “six days later.” Later than what? We talked about this last week. Jesus asked his disciples, who do people say that I am. And then he turned to Peter and asked, who do you say that I am. “You are the Christ, the Messiah, Son of the Living God.” Jesus told Peter, “You are right,” and then told everyone not to tell anyone. And then Jesus began to share that soon they would go to Jerusalem where he would suffer many things, be killed and raised on the third day. Peter took hold of Jesus and began to rebuke him. “This must not happen!” But Jesus then rebuked Peter, “Get behind me, Satan,” and went on to explain what kind of Messiah he was. Not someone who would ride in on a white horse and crush enemies and proclaim retribution. Jesus very patiently described the call of a disciple to this kind of Messiah – “Pick up your cross. What good is it to gain the whole world but lose your lives?” And then, six days later, they climbed to the top of a very high mountain. Six days after Peter’s “you’re the messiah!” and Jesus’ response that “I’m not the kind of messiah you might be expecting…” that’s when something extraordinary happened. In the Common English Bible, it says, Jesus was transformed right in front of them. It’s also known as the transfiguration of Jesus. Transfiguration is one of those odd words only used in the church. Eugene Peterson tries to describe the indescribable as “His appearance changed from the inside out. Sunlight poured from his face. His clothes were filled with light.” Something happened, but what was its purpose? Throughout Matthew’s gospel, he tried to link Jesus as the new Moses. “Up a high mountain” is just one example. And it’s where Jesus too encountered the magnificent light of God’s presence. This time with Elijah was there too. Why? According to Matthew, Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets, represented by Moses and Elijah. So again, six days earlier, Peter declared Jesus the Messiah, as well as the Son of the Living God. And now God’s voice is heard saying exactly that. “Listen to my Son. My beloved.” It was the same voice heard at his baptism, at the start of his ministry, and now again to start his descent to death – to Jerusalem and his betrayal and crucifixion. OK, so there’s a lot of symbolism going on in this text. Enough that we may we start to ask, “so what?” So, if I’ve lost you with all of this background and context, you can come back now because I want to talk about what we do with this text. What is Peter’s response to all of this? My father’s mother rarely smiled. She rarely, or perhaps never, hugged anyone – including my dad. Here’s my most vivid memory of her: We were visiting her when I was about 6 or 7 years old and I told my mom I was hungry. Grandma Bahr brought me to the kitchen and handed me a black banana. The kind that is so ripe that it squishes in your hands. I looked at it suspiciously and she screamed “Eat it!!!” I cried and looked at my mother and she just shrugged her shoulders. No doubt being her daughter-in-law wouldn’t have been easy. Anyway, one of Grandma Bahr’s warm and fuzzy sayings was: “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.” Meaning, “Don’t just stand there. Do something!” Well, maybe Peter had someone like that in his life too, so he naturally tried to think of something to do. So, let’s build something! Various translations of the specific word Peter used for his “let’s build something” idea include dwellings, booths, shrines, tabernacles, shelters, and more. Just like translators have a difficult time describing exactly what happened to Jesus on the mountain, they have a difficult time describing what exactly Peter was suggesting they build. But whatever exactly it was, it was to do something. Perhaps it was a shrine to memorialize the moment up there. Another interpretation puts the emphasis on “let’s build something up here,” like a shelter or dwelling, stay here so we don’t have to go to Jerusalem – avoid all that conflict. But before Jesus could reply to such an idea, that voice from heaven intervened and said, “Listen to him.” Or, here is my translation of this verse: “Don’t just do something. Stand there!” How does that phrase make you feel? “Don’t just do something. Stand there!” For all of us who are too busy, overprogrammed, driving our children across town from a soccer game to a piano lesson, continuously checking our emails, responding to texts, burdened with too much homework, busier in retirement than ever before – that sounds good. A relief. “Don’t just do something. Stand there!” It sounds comforting. Comfort for the burned out. Comfort for the broken down. Comfort for the afflicted. But some church folks, like Betty, our matriarch from New England, not to pick on her, they don’t want that comfort interrupted, to be afflicted by hearing about the needs of the world. What happens when the mission of the church is “don’t just do something, sit there?” I’m in a group of preachers that get together every quarter to discuss worship and improve our craft of preaching. Our conversation on Thursday turned to a discussion on preaching for the next six months leading to the presidential election. The whole country is weary of the idea that we have to repeat the last one, which will only harden the divide among the people of our country. What affect will this have on our preaching? Do we just ignore it in order to comfort all of us feeling afflicted? Do we accept the status quo? Turn a blind eye to suffering? Do we not challenge the voices tearing us apart? Yesterday, Franklin Graham came to town on his so-called God Loves You campaign promoting something his father Billy warned again. You may have heard the term christian nationalism. Christian nationalists believe that the United States was founded to be a Christian nation – despite the clear intentions of our founders not to establish a state church. Many were seeking freedom from persecution by state churches in their home countries. But that lie only stands as the foundation on which to proclaim that therefore, only Christians should control the government – from school boards to the presidency, and only according to their own very narrow view of the Bible. By all means necessary, they seek to dominate, coerce, and control the people of our nation because, in their view, that’s what God wants. One race over the others. One gender over the others. One religion over the others. A religion at complete odds with the teaching of Jesus. But actually, it’s not a religion at all but a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Some members of our church and I along with other UCC pastors and many more went to Chula Vista yesterday to learn more and begin to counter the voices like Franklin Graham and the “christian nationalist” movement. It is not the voice of Christianity. And not only do they counter the ideals of democracy, they are further damaging churches, frightening, repelling those who want nothing to do with this vision of America thinking that all Christians share a desire to suppress the rights and freedoms of women and queer people and People of Color, of Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, Buddhists, Hindus, wiccans, and everyone outside their narrative. A narrative that people with brown and black skin represent an existential threat to the country, not that all together we represent the promise of our country. Jesus said, “bring all to me who are weary, and I will give them rest.” The transfiguration, or the transformation, of Jesus on that high mountain teaches us to, first of all, stop – stand there or sit down and listen, listen to my son, my beloved, not just do something. But then, we do have to come back down from the mountain. Jesus taught the disciples that we can’t avoid the difficult challenges waiting ahead, like those he would face in Jerusalem. It’s not that Jesus was seeking out conflict, but only by doing something can we redeem hate and bring forth love; we can’t follow him but avoid Jerusalem. Only by doing something can we redeem hate and bring forth love. To bring peace among divided people we must address what divides us. That’s how we bring divided Christians together, the hope found in Ephesians, chapter 2: “Christ tore down the wall we used to keep each other at a distance. He repealed the code that had become so clogged with fine print and footnotes that it hindered more than it helped. Then he started over. Instead of continuing with two groups of people separated by centuries of animosity and suspicion, he created a new kind of human being, a fresh start for everybody.” That sounds beautiful and like a lot of work. It all starts in relationship, and so, during the season between Easter and Pentecost, we are going to get to know each other better by learning and practicing the skills of listening – 1 on 1 with each other. Everyone who wants to participate will gather after worship every Sunday in April and early May, to deepen our relationships and grow in our faith. And those who want to, will continue to listen deeply to our neighbors and family among whom walls divide us as we search for unity. But first, don’t just do something, stand there. Listen. And then, don’t just stand there, don’t just sit around, do something! That might make my grandma proud, though she’d never let on by cracking a smile. [1] Adapted from Will Willimon Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] March 3, 2024 “What Kind of Messiah” Matthew 16: 13-20 – Common English Bible As Now when Jesus came to the area of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Human One (Son of Man) is?” 14 They replied, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the other prophets.” 15 He asked Peter, “And what about you? Who do you say that I am?” 16 Simon Peter said, “You are the Christ, [the Messiah], the Son of the living God.” 17 Then Jesus replied, “Happy are you, Simon son of Jonah, because no human has shown this to you. Rather my Father who is in heaven has shown you. 18 I tell you that you are Peter.[b] And I’ll build my church on this rock. The gates of the underworld won’t be able to stand against it. 19 I’ll give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Anything you fasten on earth will be fastened in heaven. Anything you loosen on earth will be loosened in heaven.” 20 Then he ordered the disciples not to tell anybody that he was the Christ. Who are you? It’s not as easy a question to answer as you might think, is it? Most of the time we are really asking one another, what do you do for a living. We tell how we make money to pay for a place to live, food to eat, and provide for our families. I usually answer the question “who am I” with “I’m a pastor.” Unless I’m on an airplane and want some downtime, or at a party and I don’t want to spend the rest of the evening debating some religious question. And then, after I answer, I wait. Unless I’m in some sort of church setting, there is almost always a reaction of some sort, an instant judgment – “oh how nice” or a kind of questioning reaction. And if I sense fear rising, I quickly jump in, “but not that kind.” Lawyers and few other professionals might understand. But increasingly, when people hear that I’m a pastor, they ask, what does that mean? Of course, I also hear a lot, what do you actually do for more than one hour a week? “I go to a lot of meetings.” Who are you? Can you finish the sentence: I am a person who… Try it sometime today or this week. I am a person who… I took some time this week to ask the question. I am a person who needs to see the ocean at least once a week or I start to feel like something is off in my soul. I am a person who enjoys sharing what I see on the other side of a camera lens. I am a person who struggles and feels shame about my weight. I am a person who marvels at my husband’s willingness to follow me and pick everything to move to a new city. Twice. I am a person who tries to listen but often fails. Or I try to be understanding while at the same time finding it difficult not to be exasperated by people I just can’t understand! I am a person who… Or, how would you answer, “people say that I am…” That can be frustrating because sometimes people may judge your intentions. Maybe even question your competence. But maybe they just don’t understand how many things you’re trying to juggle in life right now just to stay sane and so they'll say you're impatient, or that you don’t have enough time for them… Or maybe you hear people saying, she’s great to work with, he really goes above and beyond, they are so patient – how can they be so patient? If only you knew..! Jesus asked his disciples, who do people say that I am. Who do people say the Human One, or more familiar, the Son of Man, is? And he hears: some say you are a truth-teller and a life-changer like John, or a visionary like Elijah, or one who both condemns the lack of justice for widows and orphans and strangers and yet gives hope like Jeremiah and prophets do. They’re all good answers. But Peter, who do you say that I am? Was that an easy question for Peter to answer or was it really hard? Was he put on the spot at that moment and expected to answer what must have surely still been a mystery. Who is this guy for whom I gave up my job in order to make money for my family? For some vague promise about fishing for people. Did he impulsively blurt out his answer? My money’s on that. Or did he thoughtfully consider it and reply, it’s making sense now: “You’re the Christ, you’re the Messiah we have long waited for.” Jesus confirmed this is true. And then he ordered all who were standing around listening – glad that Jesus put Peter on the spot and not them – don’t tell anyone. In between this confirmation that Peter is right and telling them to keep quiet are some very confusing declarations about Peter being a rock upon which his church will be built, something about gates and keys, and this weird phrase about fastening and loosening… The likelihood that Jesus actually said such a thing is less than miniscule. Jesus wasn’t out there building a church, he wasn’t starting a new religion. He was gathering a community of followers, yes, but “church” wasn’t a word until later. When Matthew wrote his gospel, he was looking back to explain Peter’s early role in the church. Why him? But Peter was dead when Matthew wrote this, crucified on an upside down cross in the year 64. Matthew was written about 20 to 25 years later. But enough about that. So, Jesus asked the disciples, “Who do people say that I am.” And then he asked Peter, “Who do you say that I am.” Again, he replied that Jesus was the Messiah and Jesus told Peter he was right. And then immediately, like two minutes later, Peter got it completely wrong. I mean, so wrong that Jesus called him Satan. Here’s what happened: Jesus then made it clear to his disciples that it was now necessary for him to go to Jerusalem and submit to an ordeal of suffering at the hands of the religious leaders – the elders, chief priests, and legal experts. That he had to be killed and then be raised up alive on the third day. Peter took hold of Jesus and began scolding him. He tried to correct Jesus: “God forbid, Lord! This can’t happen to you.” Jesus turned to Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan. You are a stone that could make me stumble, for you are not thinking God’s thoughts but human thoughts.” Ouch! Peter had this soaring revelation, he climbed to the pinnacle of understanding the great mystery of who this person named Jesus really was. Jesus was a person who was able to heal people. Jesus was a person who made a violent storm calm down. Jesus was a person who needed to take a break and be alone. Jesus was a person who grew frustrated and at times angry at his disciple’s continued inability to see the whole picture. And did you notice, Jesus had just minutes before called Peter his rock, and now he calls Peter a stone, a stumbling stone. A very quick demotion. But here’s the problem: Peter didn’t understand what kind of messiah Jesus really was. Frankly, not many of us do either. What do you think a messiah is? I’ll be honest, sometimes I’m uncomfortable with this messiah language, because I too get what that means wrong. But upon further examination, I’m in. Here’s why: Think about the ways we use the word in popular culture. She has a messiah complex, meaning a big ego, or we say, he’s going to be our messiah – He will be our vengeance. He will vindicate us and crush our enemies and restore us to power – spoken by an alarming number of American Christians right now. I just don’t understand. And what would Jesus say about that? Wouldn’t it be similar to his reaction to Peter’s complete misunderstanding of Jesus? Yes, I am the Messiah, but not that kind. Specifically, not the kind who would act with any kind of retribution or so-called vindication. That’s what people hoped for and wanted from a messiah who would restore the throne of King David. With violence to take up arms and throw off the yoke of Rome – a very understandable desire. But before Matthew wrote his gospel, it had already been proven not to work. In the year 70, Rome put down, crushed, an attempted revolt – known as the first Jewish-Roman war – and completely and utterly destroyed the Temple. Matthew wrote about Jesus little more than 10 years later, leaving that knowledge out of the narrative, but reflecting what Jesus was trying to teach. He is a different kind of Messiah, not the kind the prosperity gospel preaches. Not the kind that damns “those” people to hell. And definitely not one who advocates violence and retribution. What kind is he? Immediately after his rebuke of Peter’s rebuke, Jesus gathered his disciples around. Listen up: “All who want to come after me must say no to themselves, take up their cross, and follow me. All who want to save their lives will lose them, but all who lose their lives because of me will find them. Why would people gain the whole world but lose their lives?” What did he say? Take up your cross to serve one another, not to hold it over others and certainly not to use it as a weapon. What kind of Messiah would say such a thing? Not someone with a messiah complex. Not someone promising revenge. Because blessed are the people who are hopeless, blessed are the people who grieve, blessed are the people who are humble, pure in heart, peacemakers, and thirst for righteousness. Not those who are self-righteous, but who hunger for a world in which the poor are fed, the captives are set free, and the oppressed are liberated. That’s the kind of messiah who will actually save the world and the kind of messiah I want to follow. By each of us taking up our own cross. A joint effort, a partnership, something we do together, each of us embracing who we really are. Who are you, really? Not what you do for a living. How do you finish the statement, “I am a person who… I am a person who tries to follow Jesus and his teachings in order to realize heaven on earth, the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven, where no one race is superior, no one gender is supreme, no one way of loving is all that is permitted, and no one religion has power over all the others. The cross is not power over, it is power with. Or better yet, power on the under-side – lifting people up. Take up your cross. And we will no doubt fail as often as we succeed, but Jesus will never give up on us. Take heart from blessed Peter who will fail miserably. He didn’t just deny Jesus three times. On the night Jesus is betrayed in the garden, when the soldiers came to take him away, Peter took a sword and cut off the ear of a Roman soldier. Which Jesus then restored. That’s not what my followers do. And yet still, in the end, Peter was the rock on which the church of Jesus was built. Who are you? |
AuthorI love being a Archives
March 2024
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