Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] August 29, 2021 “Hearing Before Doing” James 1: 19-22, 26-27 19You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness. 21Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. 22Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. 26If any think they are religious, and do not bridle their tongues but deceive their hearts, their religion is worthless. 27Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Parent, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world. “Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers.”[1] Another translation says: “Don’t deceive yourselves by only hearing what the Word says, but do it!”[2] And another: “Don’t, I beg you, only hear the message, but put it into practice.”[3] And, “Act on what you hear.”[4] And the classic King James, “Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only.” I like the extra “ye!” of the King James. This is a verse Park Hill UCC really believes in. And not merely believes it, but does it. It’s one of many reasons why the past 18 months have been so difficult. We were often left with the question – what can we do? Prior to the pandemic, on Tuesdays we welcomed 20 overnight guests. From the first time we hosted in 2014 until we had to stop, that was over 150 nights. More importantly, that’s 3,000 nights where a woman had a nutritious meal and a safe place to sleep. Twenty doesn’t sound like a very big number until you realize the full impact of that repeated 150 times. But the pandemic hit and we were left with the question – what can we do now? Pat Smith rallied us to become the “water church.” Since the pandemic through today, our members and neighbors in Park Hill have worked together to distribute – wait for it – 33,000 bottles of water. Plus, now, instead of Tuesday evenings, on Tuesday mornings, members drive up to the church with lunch bags. More than 1,000 meals, and bottles of water, and counting. Prior to the pandemic, Joan Root coordinated a monthly hot meal for homeless and low-income senior citizens. Those homemade casseroles also had to become acts of love in a lunch bag – now at about 1,500 and counting. What can we do? That’s what we can do. That and much more. The Colorado Village Collaborative was our mission partner in June, the ones who run the safe outdoor shelter camps where some of our former WHI guests now stay. They received over $2,300 and volunteers from our congregation. Through our mission partner program, last month, $1,400 helped restock the shelves at the Greater Park Hill Food Pantry. Offerings for Safe House Denver in February, disaster relief in March, MetroCaring in April, gun violence prevention in May, and orphans in Ethiopia in August. And of course, in January, to prevent evictions we contributed almost $13,000. Plus, those piles of school supplies and backpacks last week! Look at what we can do together! It may have been a difficult year – a year and a half to be exact – for a church that believes in doing, not merely hearing, yet it has also been a time of great creativity. I can’t even begin to count the number of times we have had to ask and answer the question “what can we do about that?” In addition to our food ministries, we adapted and adapted again and re-adapted music, worship, Sunday School, youth group, study groups and support groups. When we started meeting in person, we adapted again. Look at our fantastic Stream Team in the back of the church and imagine how much the church has grown online. Good and faithful servants, we’ve done a lot of good doing. But then… Since I announced my call to San Diego, questions have included, “Now what do we do?” And I sympathize fully. I mean, hasn’t there already been enough change? But more importantly, hasn’t there already been enough loss? Grief added to the grief we feel at the senseless prolonging of the pandemic, fights over masking kids in school, chaos and now death in Afghanistan, apocalyptic scenes of wildfires and smokey skies, from images of suffering in Haiti to unprecedented flooding in Tennessee. Bouncing around in our hearts, minds, souls, and bodies are the classic feelings of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. But grief, as we all know, doesn’t come in a neat and tidy order. Elizabeth Kubler Ross describes them as stages that bounce back and forth over and over, all of which multiplied can feel even more overwhelming. And now we have to add one more thing? We can find ourselves short with one another for no other apparent reason than to recognize, in our personal lives as well as a nation, we are tired of disorder and change– especially over things about which we have absolutely no control. Can’t just a few things stay the same? A protégé of Kubler Ross added two more stages of grief: initially, there is shock, before denial and so forth, and eventually, not just acceptance, but reconstruction. I especially like those additions. Honoring all feelings, not rushing, but in the end, the hope of redemption through reconstructing our lives after the loss. That’s not just another thing we must “do.” Therefore, as much as I love the words of James to do and not merely hear, doing and hearing cannot be disconnected. Before we do, we must hear. And while we do, we must hear. And even after we are done doing our doing, we must hear. Or in other words, to balance doing with listening. Deep listening. Take a breath. Transitions are a good time, an important time, for breathing, and especially for listening. Take another breath. Once again, our Governance Team jumped right into action and developed a plan – a group that already had plenty to do. But I especially ask your prayers upon them that they not only do what must be done immediately, but then they take the time needed among themselves to hear and lead the congregation to construct the future together. I trust they will. But that’s one reason why in the UCC, churches don’t just go out and get a new pastor. There is time intentionally set aside for listening before doing. I ask for the same prayer. That I take the time to stop and listen, to hear the voice of God, before jumping in too quickly to do a new thing. At Lunch and Lectionary this week, someone suggested that I should tell you how I’m doing with this transition. The congregation, they said, wants to know how you’re feeling too. I’m afraid that if I do that, I might cry, but here it goes. But first, it is part of our vocation as pastors that we come to a church and love people and walk through their best and worst days. From days when we have been called to rush to the hospital, to days when we receive a call out of the blue from a long-ago youth group member asking us to officiate their marriage or baptize their baby. We wonder, how can they be old enough to have a child?! We invest everything into people’s lives and then leave. How do I feel? And you do the same with us. Amazingly, you confess your biggest regrets to us and together we ponder your deepest questions; we listen as you contemplate divorce or come to grips with a fatal diagnosis. We accompany people to their death and help families cope. And then we leave you? Take a breath. But to honor our ordination, we vow to separate in order for a new pastor to come, whom we pray loves the people as much as we did. Just as Roy Smith did when he left, just like Phil Campbell did when he left, just like the pastor after me does when she or he follows a call to their new ministry. We are chapters in a long legacy of faithful ministry. More than a few pastors have been told, “just remember, I’m going to be here longer than you are.” I try to hear that as a promise, not a threat! And so, how am I? I’m grieving. Some days expressed in exhaustion. Some days in irritation. And then I try to remember to breathe. Take a breath. Even while at the same time I am excited, really excited, for new opportunities to keep learning and growing. And loving the people with whom I will now marry, bury, and baptize as a chapter in their church’s story. Just know that because of you, they will get a better minister as a result of how you shaped and formed me. The failures and successes we shared. Take a breath. But my job right now is to do a sermon, so back to the text and my final thoughts on hearing and doing. For all the overachieving doers among us, Rev. Steven Bonsey cautions,[5] “I’ve spent a fair amount of my adult life acting on the illusion that after planting something in the ground, I could force it to grow. But in the pause between planting and harvesting, the seed must sprout and grow on its own. In those moments, what we do has absolutely no bearing on plant growth.” He said, “Progress toward the harvest is furthered as much by sleep as by rising.” That could become a dangerous justification for doing nothing, but rather, in the interim, in this transition, I think it’s a helpful invitation to listen. By that I take his caution to mean, in any transition period, as the seed grows, if we don’t stop constantly doing, by the time the harvest comes, we may be too burned out. Or too busy to notice. And have you ever noticed how some people keep themselves too busy doing something else rather than allow themselves to feel grief. Too busy doing to hear. As much as there is work to do, I believe it’s a word both you and I need to hear. So, take a breath. [1] NRSV [2] Complete Jewish Bible [3] JB Phillips Bible [4] The Message [5] “The Activist as Contemplative: Resting for Social Change.”
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Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] August 22, 2021 “Making Real Friends” Psalm 84 – New Revised Standard Version What How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! 2 My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God. 3 Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. 4 Happy are those who live in your house, ever singing your praise. Selah 5 Happy are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. 6 As they go through the valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools. 7 They go from strength to strength; the God of gods will be seen in Zion. 8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob! Selah 9 Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed. 10 For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness. 11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield; he bestows favor and honor. No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly. 12 O Lord of hosts, happy is everyone who trusts in you. (Note: This is Blessing of the Backpacks Sunday) Going back to school, especially those big transitions from elementary to middle school and from middle school (which we used to call Junior High) to high school is fraught with fear and anxiety. Not the more challenging classes but the bus and the lunchroom and after school. Will I have any friends? But it’s actually true of any transition – college, new job, moving to a new city, and even for those of you who have moved to a new 55+ community. It can get even harder as we age to break into existing friend groups. Even some churches make it really hard to be the new person. With all of that in mind, listen to this story. [1]One day a farmer decided that his donkey was fat enough to take to market to sell. He told his son to bring him two poles. He said, “We’ll carry our donkey to market on these poles so that he won’t get too thin from walking the long distance.” So they tied the donkey to the poles, hoisted it all on their shoulders, and headed down the road to the market. Imagine a donkey hung upside down in between them, braying and heehawing his displeasure. They came upon a group of people in the road who laughed and laughed. “Look at you stupid fellows carrying a donkey like it was a pig. That donkey should be carrying you! Why don’t you get on its back and ride it?” The father and his son were very embarrassed at all the laughing and jeering. The father said, “I guess we must look pretty strange carrying a donkey. Maybe we should put him down and ride. But, he’s too small for both of us.” He told his son that because he’s smaller, he should ride while the father walked out front carrying their packs. The son agreed. So they untied the donkey and the son got on. They began again down the road toward the market. A little farther they came upon another group of people. They called out to the son, jeering, “What kind of son are you? You ride in comfort while your poor old father has to walk carrying bags? You should be ashamed of yourself.” The red-faced son dismounted. He said, “Maybe you should ride, father, and I will carry the packs.” The father agreed. “Maybe that would be best.” So the father got up on the donkey and the son walked out in front with the packs. They crossed the river and neared the village. They came upon a group of young women who called out, “Look at that handsome young man walking like a servant while that old goat rides like a prince. You should ride, handsome boy, and the old man should walk.” The boy turned and said, “Father, have we made a mistake again?” The father replied, “It seems like we have made several mistakes today. First we carried the donkey and the people said it was wrong. Then you rode and people said it was wrong. They I rode and people said it was wrong. Perhaps we should ride it together.” “Splendid,” said the boy. So they both got up on the donkey and continued on. When they reached the market, a crowd of people began pointing and staring at them. “How could you be so cruel? That donkey is barely old enough for one rider, and yet you have put two on him? It’s so little, you should be carrying it! Shame, shame,” the people cried out louder and louder. The father and son got off at once, but the crowd wouldn’t let up. And they were so loud that it frightened the poor little donkey. It bucked and kicked until the father and his son lost grip of the rope and the donkey ran off, never to be seen again. What a story! For any would-be people-pleaser, you might see a connection. Someone says, “You should do it this way.” So, you do. Someone else says, “You should do it that way.” So, you do. Then someone else, and on and on and on… Each time trying to please someone until everyone is upset. Your existing friends. Co-workers. Family. And especially, yourself. You know it in your stomach. Your sleep patterns… In the story, what might they have done differently? They could have yelled “Mind your own business!” and kept moving on. Or “Thank you! I appreciate the suggestion.” And kept moving on. People pleasing is so common it has been studied as research in the fields of psychology and psychiatry. The Harvard Business Review wrote about the problem of people-pleasers in the workplace. It’s an ancient problem. Two thousand years ago, in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus warned: "There's trouble ahead when you live only for the approval of others, saying what flatters them, doing what indulges them." (Luke 6:26, The Message) But is people-pleasing the problem? Maybe it’s a need for approval. Not doing the right thing but what most people will be happy with or approve of. Then we will have peace. And we will have friends, my point today. Maybe not real friends, but friends, nonetheless. So, if we wanted to evaluate our level of people-pleasing or approval-seeking, what are some questions we might ask?
But then again, what’s wrong with being agreeable? Being easy to get along with. What’s wrong with seeking the peace? And here’s one more question: Deep inside, do you believe you can get most everyone to like you? And therefore, be your friend. Do I believe, deep inside, that I can get most everyone to like me? Absolutely! But be careful. That’s why I made some of the choices I did in high school. Maybe even today. This may also explain why some people avoid getting involved in social change or justice movements. Someone won’t approve. Or worse, they might not like me! Expressing an opposing view might lower someone’s opinion of us. What’s a frequent criticism of activists? Why must they be so disagreeable? Disturbing “the peace.” My dad was far from what anyone would consider a radical for social change. Among many other things, he was a Gideon – the people who put Bibles in hotel rooms and try to hand out little New Testaments at schools. He was a Gideon because my dad loved the Bible. He read it every day and simply wanted others to encounter it and love it too. One of my prized possessions is the Bible my mother gave him while they were dating in 1944. It’s so well worn; it barely stays together. And so full of notes, the pages couldn’t hold anymore. You get the picture. But one day he got in trouble with the head Gideon in Montana. The topic of homosexuality had come up. Apparently, everyone believed they were on the same page of condemnation. My father very calmly and clearly said his son was gay and that he loved him. That was it. That night he got a call asking “What kind of trouble are you trying to stir up in Miles City?” From a man whose son was also gay, but of whom he had a starkly different opinion about his son’s eternal soul. All of a sudden, in his 80s, my dad was an “agitator” with a gay agenda. He never went back to another meeting. My dad knew the Bible better than most people. He lived his life to please God. That didn’t always please everyone, which can be hard. We might think that pleasing God means we should please other people. But Jesus surely didn’t spend all his time trying to please people. You don’t eat dinner with prostitutes and tax collectors to win brownie points. You don’t invite yourself to the home of Zacchaeus or allow Mary to listen in on conversations between men. You don’t stop men from stoning a woman caught in adultery. You don’t pardon criminals or call religious people snakes, broods of vipers, and hypocrites – not just once but over and over. Being true to yourself and to your God, standing up and speaking out for justice and disturbing the peace, might not win a lot of friends, but it will attract real friends. And a few real friends is much better than being liked by everyone. There’s nothing radical about that. I’m just making sense, right? But it came to mind in what the Psalm for today says. Verse 10: “I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than live in the tents of wickedness.” What that’s really saying is, “I would rather just stand at the door than to have a comfortable home with what is wrong.” Or, as you return to school, or contemplate a move or a change in your life, the Psalmist might say, I’d rather be true to myself and to God than to have a lot of people who like me. This Psalm expresses a longing for home. It speaks of weeping and walking through a lonely valley. In times of transition, whether it is at school, work, or anywhere else, we often feel lonely, hoping and praying for a place where we can belong. The Psalmist’s ultimate hope, I believe, is to welcome God inside of us, and then, “Oh my goodness, how lovely is your dwelling place.” So, good luck and God bless on your new adventures and journeys! I pray you find real friends along the way with whom you can share with bold confidence such values as Black Lives Matter, that science is real, that no human being is illegal, and that love is love is love. Not everyone will be pleased, but that won’t matter if what you simply want are real friends. And to be a real friend. [1] “The Father, the Son, and the Donkey” in Doorways to the Soul: 52 Wisdom Tales from Around the World, edited by Elisa Davy Pearmain, Pilgrim Press, 1998. Sermons from Park Hill UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr August 15, 2021 “There is a Time” Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 – New Revised Standard Version For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: 2 a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; 3 a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; 4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; 5 a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; 6 a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to throw away; 7 a time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; 8 a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace. There is a time for every matter under heaven; a season for everything. Planting and plucking. Breaking down and building up. Times to weep, laugh, mourn and dance. Early in the pandemic, someone brilliantly noted that we had entered a season to refrain from embracing. And yes, the time to embrace again can’t come soon enough. Much of the wisdom by the quester, the author of Ecclesiastes, is common sense. Of course there is a time for birth and a time for death, although death often seems to come before its time. A few other lines, however, don’t make sense. For example, when is there an appropriate time for hate? One common error in interpreting this text is to think of this passage as prescriptive instead of descriptive. Looking back on his or her life, the author, perhaps an elderly king, is describing the truth that there are indeed times of hate and war in our lives. This is wisdom born of experience. They weren’t looking forward, like prophets, and suggesting, prescribing, that we should hate or declare war. Wisdom exposes that hate and war, as well as love and peace, simply exist as the ying and yang of life. Life is the constant search, the quest, for balance. And then things change again. As most of you now know, we have entered a transition time. In fact, upon hearing the news that I have accepted a call to a new church in San Diego, you may have felt a little knocked off balance. But there is indeed a season to come together and a time to part. A time to say hello and a right time to say farewell. When is that right time? I had no idea on April 12. When I drove to San Diego, I had no other intention than to be restored by ocean waves and return to Denver refreshed for a new season, getting ready to regather for worship in person. I was certain I wasn’t ready to leave, but yet, when I actually asked myself, “Am I ready,” I heard as clear as day, “Yes.” A little stunned by the immediacy of the answer, from that point on, I knew my responsibility was to be ready and get ready for a change. God may be calling, but I had to do my part. As we discussed in Lunch and Lectionary on Thursday, our decision to pursue change comes as a partnership. It is in relationship with God that we choose to participate in co-creating our future. It is not ours alone to make. Nor is our future imposed by God. Not to mention, circumstances often disrupt our carefully developed plans. As Woody Allen said, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” But again, as our Lunch group agreed, God does not impose the future upon us. God invites us to participate in creating it. Things like anger and fear often stand in the way, yet we are always invited to take the next best step from wherever we are, no matter where that is. Most of you have heard or read my call story by now, but a quick recap: In March I kept sensing a need to sit by ocean waves. I had never felt called to water before, so I thought it was important to pay attention. Many of you have spoken of the Oregon coast, so I looked into it. The cost was exorbitant. Besides, I wanted to visit my sister in Phoenix before it got even hotter, so once they were fully vaccinated, I bought a ticket. The ocean could wait. A couple of weeks before my trip, Mona announced she needed surgery that would require 12 weeks in bed with her foot elevated. She didn’t want me to simply sit next to her bed for a week, so she suggested I spend one night and then drive to San Diego. I found an Airbnb a mile from the beach for $60 a night. Talk about timing. There’s never been anything remotely that affordable since or will be ever again! I walked the beach every day and one evening surfed the web for UCC churches in the area. I discovered one was searching for a new pastor, so I read their profile. A profile is a massive 40 page document describing the church in every possible detail and articulating what they seek in a new pastor. Not very many churches put their profile directly on their webpage. Usually, you have to go through official channels, which you can’t do unless you have a profile and are officially searching. I wasn’t looking so I didn’t have a profile. Out of curiosity I read about the church and thought it sounded great, not that different in mission and theology than Park Hill. But that was it. Interesting church. Until two nights later I said, let me read that again and thought, I could do that. But I was certain I was not ready for a change. And God laughed. Meanwhile, after 15 years, the pastor of Mission Hills retired in January 2020. And then the pandemic hit. After several months, an interim was in place and a search committee was formed in October. They met weekly on Zoom and finished their profile and posted it at the end of December. They started to receive profiles in January and interview candidates. At first many on the committee thought their job was to hire a new pastor. But a search committee is not a hiring committee. It is a discernment group. In fact, many people who have served on good search committees have come to discover it is one of the most spiritually rich and fruitful times in their faith lives. A lot of work, but worth it. And they discover that discernment takes time. Even so, there comes a time when a decision must finally be made. Congregations are known to become impatient. So, after reading 32 profiles, interviewing a dozen, they narrowed it down to a few and finally to one. But they hit a plateau. Something wasn’t right. The committee wasn’t in full agreement. The committee co-chairs emailed the group advising them, if it doesn’t feel right, not to rush, to trust the process, and most importantly, to pray. It was more important to discern the right candidate than to finish hiring a new pastor. That email was dated Thursday, May 6th. On Friday, May 7th, their conference minister reached out to ask if they would consider one more candidate. That’s because, though shocked that I was ready, on Tuesday, May 4th, I decided that my responsibility was to participate with God in co-creating my future. That required me to write my profile. Art and I had concluded I would regret it if I didn’t at least try to apply. I initiated my background check, which can take a while, and then I went to their website to print out the profile. It wasn’t there. I went to the official UCC website, and it said they weren’t accepting more profiles. Officially, “on hold.” That can mean they have found their candidate and it was too late. Or maybe not. So, I contacted our conference minister to inquire for me. She did, adding a good word. On Thursday, my background check was already back – which included my arrest for aggravated disorderly conduct, which I always laugh sounds like a drunken brawl. It was just an arrest for civil disobedience. Our conference minister then quickly verified my profile, the last step. It was in the committee’s hands on Friday – again, the day after they said they should pause to pray. The committee discussed it on Monday and offered me an interview for the following Monday and the next day offered me a second interview. All of this happened within one month of returning from San Diego. I had no intention of change. Leaving was the last thing on my mind. God laughed and invited me to participate in the co-creation of my future. Our future. The whole thing still gives me chills. I listened to the Spirit call me to ocean waves. The committee prayed to discern, not quickly hire. And we met in the middle, the doors gently opened on every obstacle, including Art who was initially opposed to even discussing the idea and is now delighted and excited for new adventures. I still don’t get why my sister needed to spend 12 weeks in bed for the story to work, but she is glad her misery at least served some greater purpose! And I believe that will be true here as well – not 12 weeks in bed but doors will gently open on every obstacle. Change isn’t always easy, but the lack of change invites death. The world runs on movement, to quote Martha Jones. Imagine looking back and realizing you should have left a year ago. Imagine how much worse if you had said to me, you should have left a year ago! Change embraced as a partnership with God is invigorating. You will get to experience a whole new set of gifts and skills that will build upon and enhance the ministry we have done together for 14 years. Trust that God is the process. Trust that Park Hill has the right leaders in place. And for whomever serves on the future search committee, remember to discern for the best candidate, not rush to hire the most expedient one. And if you do, I believe you will experience the same miracle I have. That’s not just advice for a church but in our personal lives too. Discerning our future takes time because it’s a partnership. Not in prescribing, our future is found in listening to promptings. Not rushing. Not being afraid of the obstacles that appear. They’re just doors. Some are meant to open, some are not. It may not yet be time. Those that do not open simply invite us to open the door next to it. There could be nothing worse than to rush God by imposing our own will. And eventually we’ll be able to describe how things unfolded in God’s time. In partnership with God, there is indeed a time and season for everything under the sun. I have been incredibly blessed by this season in my life. And I pray it has been a blessing for you. But this is not a farewell sermon. And I promise not to preach four more farewell sermons. I promise. The gospel must still be proclaimed for our times. But this is simply part of the process of figuring out how we got here to this place and time. And what we should do next, including exploring the stages of grief we will each experience. Grief, as well as anticipation for what God has in store for all of us next. Because again, the world runs on movement. Avoiding change is a form of death. And we believe in a God of life. A God who is always holding out the promise of life, even as we sit here right now. And that is very good news. Call Sermon for Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr August 8, 2021 “How Would You Like to Change the World” John 10: 1-10 – New Revised Standard Version “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2 The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6 Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them. 7 So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8 All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. 9 I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. My name is David Bahr. And here is how I would like to change the world. But first, a couple of years ago, the Racial Justice Ministry at my church in Denver went to hear Bryan Stevenson speak. Bryan is the founder of the Equal Justice Initiative. Some people know him as the force behind the creation of the national lynching memorial in Montgomery, Alabama. He’s author of the book Just Mercy,[1] which is now also a movie. My sister, Mona, kept insisting that I read that book. She would ask, have you read it yet? Have you read it yet? So, one day while waiting for jury duty, I finally read it and it changed my life. Thank you, sister. Rosa Parks once asked Bryan what he does. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “We’re trying to help people on death row. We want to free people who’ve been wrongly convicted, stop racial bias in the criminal justice system, and stop excessive punishment.” She replied, “Oooh, honey, all that’s going to make you tired, tired, tired.” We all laughed. Then a third woman put her finger in my face and said very seriously, “That’s why you’ve got to be brave, brave, brave.” So that Monday night, after the lights in the theatre dimmed and the requisite introductions and recitation of his biography and many degrees, Bryan stood alone on an empty stage and simply said, “My name is Bryan Stevenson and here is how I would like to change the world.” His whole speech was mesmerizing. 60 minutes flew by like it was 10. I wanted so much more. And yet, still to this day, it was that very first line that has remained with me. I drove home that night full of inspiration and thought, what would I say if I stood in front of a room. But an answer didn’t come right away. In our passage today, Jesus didn’t exactly say, “My name is Jesus, and so forth.” But he did pretty clearly state his objective: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” And what gets in the way of that? Something about thieves and bandits and gatekeepers and so forth. I’m so glad John said that the disciples did not understand, because I have to tell you, it’s not quite clear to me either. So, I thought maybe it would be better to focus on the words of Jesus describing himself as a gate. “I am the gate.” But can I be honest with you? I don’t like that much better. This is one of seven “I Am” statements in the Gospel of John – like, I am the way, the truth and the life, I am the true vine, I am the resurrection and so on… To me, those statements seem so out of character with Jesus. “I am the gate?” What did Jesus mean? But perhaps that’s the wrong question. What did John mean by putting those words into the mouth of Jesus? Because scholars like Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan say it’s very unlikely that Jesus would have said “I am the way, the truth, and the life about himself.”[2] Why not? For one, those “I am” statements only appear in the Gospel of John and John had a very different purpose than the other gospels.[3] The theme of John’s gospel is Jesus himself, Jesus as the definitive expression of God – the ultimate I AM. But the most important distinction is, John teaches that salvation is by way of belief in Jesus as the Son of God. You know the most famous example. It’s John 3:16. “Everyone who believes in him will not perish but shall have eternal life.” However, in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus rarely spoke of himself. In fact, he often admonished people to keep his actions a secret. His works were to glorify God, not himself. His teaching focused not on belief in him but on the Kingdom of God – blessings, liberation, and solidarity with people who are poor, sick, and imprisoned. Here’s the thing: The Gospel of John is an invitation to believe in Jesus. The other gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, encourage us to become disciples of Jesus. So, I probably shouldn’t say this in a sermon right before you’re asked to vote on a new pastor, but I think I should put my blasphemy right out in front of you. I don’t care if you believe in Jesus. (watch for thunderbolts.) I want you to be like Jesus. Or rather, to be a disciple of the Jesus whom God anointed to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives and sight to the blind, and to liberate the oppressed. To have compassion like Jesus. Beliefs often divide us. To me, the most important thing is to actually love like Jesus. As I drove home from the Stevenson event, I thought, what would my statement be? It was 2017 and it felt like cruelty was everywhere on the rise, intentional, even gleeful. Someone on PBS NewsHour called it “gratuitous cruelty.” I don’t think I need to go into a bunch of examples. It was 2017. And then I read an article by Jonathon Schell who I thought summarized it perfectly. “America has become a culture of cruelty – a country that seems to know of no remedy for social problems but punishment.”[4] That’s when I knew the answer I had been seeking. My name is David Bahr and here is how I would like to change the world: I want to end the culture of cruelty. Of course, the “how” is what really matters. I want to help Christians move from merely believing in Jesus to becoming his disciples. Now, just to be clear, I believe in Jesus. When I was 7 years old, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. Those aren’t exactly words I would use today, but the sentiment is the same. I believe in Jesus. I just don’t think that’s enough. Furthermore, abundant life isn’t a belief. The abundant life of which Jesus spoke isn’t a state of mind. Amen? And certainly, abundant life shouldn’t be something for which we have to escape to heaven to experience. Amen? It’s something to experience together, right? And it’s not just for you and me. In the words of Jesus – they. That “they” may have life. Who’s that? All for whom this present life is not abundant. And if we want to redeem that disconcerting gate metaphor, these are the blessed people Jesus tries to protect, to stand between them and the forces of hate. In that way, I like the idea of Jesus as a gate. Jesus and his disciples, i.e., you and me. And that’s why I’m here today. I wasn't looking for a new church. I came to San Diego to spend some time walking on beautiful beaches and listening to waves. Curious, I looked up local UCCs and saw one that was in a pastor search, so I read their profile. Just curious. But this caught my attention: “When the Muslim Ban was initiated by the government, Mission Hills UCC members went to the Islamic Center of San Diego each Friday to show solidarity with our Muslim brothers and sisters.” Yes! That’s exactly what a disciple of Jesus would do to show love and protect against the hate and gratuitous cruelty of thieving bandits. Oh! Now I get what today’s passage means. It finally makes sense! As I read your profile, a list of other examples kept growing:
You, through your brilliantly chosen search committee, answered the question “who is God calling us to become?” with this compelling answer: “God is calling us to lean into the tensions we are seeing between our congregations’ many privileges and our social justice mission. We are called to leverage these privileges to bridge the gaps between our affluent congregation and a city in economic crisis. We are coalition builders.” Amen. You and the Spirit had my full attention. My curiosity turned into “I have to meet these people!” But the thing that most touched my heart was all the money and volunteers for Just in Time for Foster Youth. That’s not a typical church outreach project. It matters to me because my best friend has fostered more children than she can count and has adopted 10. I am the godfather for 8 of them. I just haven’t yet met the most recent two. I asked the search committee to visit Just in Time when I was here in July. The mission of the organization not only touches my heart, I fell in love with the four young people I met. I asked them to be here today as a personal favor. It’s cruel to think that when a foster child ages out of the system, they are supposed to somehow be ready to face the world on their own. It’s no surprise that a significant number of people who are homeless once were foster children. There could be nothing more Christ-like than to create an extended family of love and protection as they have done. I would like to be part of that extended family. So, my name is David Bahr and you’ve heard how I would like to change the world. But not just with disciples already on the path, such as those already in the church. I am passionate about inviting others to discover abundant life for themselves. To invite people with social justice commitments to combine those with the Christian faith – redefined, of course, not primarily concerned about belief but to work together. To join us to seek a world that is Open, Inclusive, Just, and Compassionate. The words “Kingdom of God” do not translate outside an already Christian audience. But if you describe your desire for a world that is open-minded, inclusive of everyone, seeks justice for all, especially that Black Lives Matter, and above all encourages compassion, compassion, compassion, well, that’s a compelling invitation to learn more about the life and teachings of Jesus, whom we call the Christ. To learn about faith. Christianity provides, or can provide, the foundation, the spiritual resources, and the place of belonging, from which to extend ourselves to change the world. Your search committee read the personal statement of its nameless candidate (now you know my name) as someone who wants to inspire love in what often feels like a culture of cruelty; to build a community of disciples who are fiercely bold about Christ’s mercy and compassion to save the soul of our country, and our own in the process. And not just to save it for the sake of survival, but rather for flourishing. Not just that we all get by, but so that we all thrive. Not just that we have existence, but that we have joy. Not just life, but life in abundance.[5] For all God’s people. That's who I am. Now, who are you? What is your name? Would you say it out loud for me? So I can hear it. And don’t answer yet: How would you like to change the world? Think about it, pray on it, listen to the Spirit. And then ask, what can we do as a church full of Jesus’ disciples to provide what is necessary? So that, as Rosa Parks said to Bryan Stevenson, when you’re tired, tired, tired, together, through worship, prayer, study, outreach, fellowship, friendship, and more, we can help each other to be brave, brave, brave. Amen? [1] Bryan Stevenson, Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, New York: Spiegel and Grau, 2014 [2] Read Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time: The Historical Jesus and the Heart of Contemporary Faith, Marcus Borg, Harper Collins, 1994 [3] http://www.religioustolerance.org/chr_john.htm [4] https://www.thenation.com/article/cruel-america/ [5] Inspired by David J Lose, adapted, WorkingPreacher.com, “Abundant Life Now,” 2014 Sermons from Park Hill Congregational UCC Denver, Colorado Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] August 1, 2021 “Soul Food” John 6: 24-35 – New Revised Standard Version 24So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum looking for Jesus. 25 When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” 26 Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. 27 Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you. For it is on him that God the Father has set his seal.” 28 Then they said to him, “What must we do to perform the works of God?” 29 Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” 30 So they said to him, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing? 31 Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” 32 Then Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but it is my Father who gives you the true bread from heaven. 33 For the bread of God is that which[a] comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” 34 They said to him, “Sir, give us this bread always.” 35 Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. I find today’s text a little irritating, or rather, one line of it. Right in the middle: “This is the work of God, that you believe in the One whom God has sent.” The work of God is believing? Whenever I see that the gospel assigned in the lectionary for the day is from John, I wince a little. Oh no, what kind of wandering labyrinth of logic will this one be? Whereas Jesus primarily spoke in parables in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, even though they are often enigmatic, in John he gives these long-winded, zigzagging discourses that are even more difficult to follow. That’s not to say the entire gospel is problematic. Some of the best stories about Jesus are only in John. The wedding feast at Cana, the Samaritan woman at the well (one of my favorites), Lazarus rising from the dead, Mary Magdalene and the “gardener” at the empty tomb, and Jesus showing his wounded hands to doubting Thomas. Oh, and I love the opening prologue. “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” Our official UCC motto is taken from John: “That They May All Be One.” Our unofficial motto is taken from Gracie Allen: “Never put a period when God has placed a comma.” To which my friend Ron Buford added, “God is still speaking.” But it is from John, and only John, that we have the overused words “born again.” And John 3:16. I love John 3:16. For God so loves the world. It’s just the end of the verse: “Whoever believes in me will not perish but shall have eternal life.” Ugh… I’m sorry if I sound cynical, but John’s constant focus on belief is often an excuse to disregard the work of God to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give drink to the thirsty, visit the prisoner, and so forth. And to divide the world into believers and non-believers. “Belief” is furthermore emphasized only in John with “I am” statements like today’s “I am the bread of life.” But, as our Lunch and Lectionary group asked, what about actual bread for people who are actually hungry? Yes, we need the bread that does not perish. Bread that endures. Bread for the soul. But people also actually need bread for life. And that’s why I find today’s text irritating. Right in the middle: “This is the work of God, that you believe in the One whom God has sent.” The work of God is believing? Really, Jesus? Again, to me, the work of God is feeding people who are hungry. In fact, the deeper work of God is upending a system that requires some people to live in poverty so others can live in opulence. In the Gospel of Luke, Mary talked of toppling the powerful from their thrones and lifting up the lowly. The hungry are full and the rich are sent away empty. In the Gospel of Matthew, if we don’t care for the needs of others, we don’t care for the needs of Jesus. Is that to be meant only metaphorically? However, in contrast, the last verse of today’s text from John says, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Yes, but… Marcus Borg says that John is a “remarkable testimony about what Jesus had become in early Christian milieu. It tells us how Jesus was spoken of in a Christian community near the end of the first century. It does not tell us very much about how Jesus himself spoke.”[1] I am the bread of life. I am the way, the truth and the life. I am the resurrection… There are 7 “I am” statements in the Gospel of John that invite us to believe in Jesus as the Son of God. After learning of the remarkable life of Jesus as a teacher and prophet of the Kingdom of God, the rabbi who invited us into a different way of living, even as the one who conquered death, why, according to John, is so little asked of us but to believe? Perhaps because John represents the beginning of institutionalizing Jesus into Christianity. Diana Butler Bass says the basis of the institutional church has been believing, through creed and dogma, behaving, through rules and techniques, and belonging, through membership and choice. All of this results in people thinking that Christianity is about getting the answers right, living by the right rules, and passing the test to get in. If you believe right, and you behave right, you might belong. It leads to people saying, “I don’t think I can be a Christian anymore because I just can’t believe all that stuff.” Perhaps you’ve said that too. “Can I be a Christian and not believe in…” Fill in the blank. Biblical concepts like resurrection, virgin birth, hell… Or cultural concepts claimed by certain kinds of Christians about abortion, same gender marriage, and even free market capitalism. How many times have you heard or thought to yourself, if that’s what Christians believe, then count me out. Whole generations are counting themselves out. Diana Butler Bass wrote a book called Christianity After Religion. Great title, isn’t it? If we could free the faith of Jesus from the religion of Christianity, she claimed, we would see a world-wide spiritual awakening. She reverses the order from the institutionalized church’s flow of believe, behave, and belong. First, she said, before anything else, we belong. “We belong to God and to one another, connected to all in a web of relationships.” In her reversed flow, belonging isn’t based anymore on subscribing to a certain set of beliefs. Which would therefore mean, the work of the church shouldn’t primarily be about belonging as membership but belonging as radical hospitality. We are all one in Christ. Then, when we feel part of the whole, we practice faith together through acts of justice and love that reflect and anticipate the reign of God. In other words, behave. I don’t like the word behave, but for the sake of this example, all of that belonging and behaving, she said, will then form the basis of belief. In addition, these beliefs are not static but grow and evolve with time and experience. But as long as we focus on belonging to one another, working together on shared values, i.e. behavior, then beliefs will stop being deal breakers in relationship. Again, she said, over the centuries the Christian church has come to assert that to belong you must first believe in a set of theological assertions; to belong you must first behave in certain prescribed ways; and only then can you belong. But who wants to belong to that? And I’ll add that progressive Christians have the same tendency to regulate belonging according to certain beliefs and behavior. Cancel culture is mostly a dog whistle, but it does contain some ring of truth. When the UCC was formed in 1957, our forebears tried to move beyond the limitations of creeds, like the Apostles Creed and the Nicene Creed, with their repetitions of “I believe” or “We believe.” Repetitions which include things that people often do not believe. Or understand, such as the statement in the Nicene Creed that Jesus was “begotten, not made.” Find 2 people in 100 who could tell you what they just said they believe. The UCC Statement of Faith is not a creed. It begins “We believe in God.” That’s it. Then it goes on to say, “and to God’s deeds we testify.” The rest of the statement describes the work of God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit. The UCC Statement of Faith is also unique from creeds because, beyond belief, it says what we are called to do, including, “to accept the cost and joy of discipleship.” And “to be your servants in the service of others.” And that we are promised “courage in the struggle for justice and peace.” I find it rather forward looking for 1959 when it was adopted by the General Synod. So, you may ask, if this is already part of our “belief system” as the UCC, then why am I making a big deal about today’s text from the Gospel of John? Perhaps because it simply needs to be restated from time to time, to remind us about this community to which we belong – not because of formal membership but because we claim one another as spiritual companions. As well, of course, to provide education for people who are new to the UCC. To be clear, despite what John says, the faith of Jesus, the work of God, is more than believing. In fact, Marcus Borg said, "For me, to believe a set of statements is impossible." What is possible, he argues, is to "belove" Jesus and walk in his path. The idea of beloving Jesus vs. believing in him is a fascinating concept for another day. According to John, Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Earlier I said “yes, but.” However, I want to end with “yes, and.” The work of God is to feed the hungry and it must be, we must be, sustained with soul food. We may think of soul food only as a type of African American cuisine – fried chicken, collard greens, macaroni and cheese. Getting hungry? But soul food originated in the scraps of food that no one else wanted. It was only from love and creativity that the pieces and parts no one else would eat came the banquet feast we know as soul food. Just like Jesus did and can do for us with simplicity of bread and the splendor of God's creation. I “believe,” funny word, that Jesus does in fact sustain us, especially through the sacrament of communion, the true bread of the soul that endures, around whose table we now gather. But to today’s point, it doesn’t matter what you believe about communion. You don’t have to understand it any more than to know this: it is an invitation to belong. In fact, it is a symbol that you already DO belong. [1] Marcus Borg, Evolution of the Word, Harper One, 2012 |
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March 2024
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