Showing posts with label Courage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Courage. Show all posts

Sunday, October 21, 2018

"Called to Live Courageously." A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Luke 19 during Stewardship season.

"Zacchaeus Tree." Sycamore tree in Jericho.

"Called to Live Courageously"

Luke 19:1-10; 1 Timothy 6:17-19; Proverbs 3:5-10

         The story of Zacchaeus is pure gospel.  It's a story of how a person's life was changed by encounter with Jesus the Christ.  It’s a story of transformation. 
            Zacchaeus climbed the sycamore tree because he was trying to see who Jesus was. What he’d heard about Jesus, we don't know.  But somehow, somewhere, he had heard something that caused him to wonder.
            Now, Zacchaeus was a chief tax collector, and a wealthy person.  What he needed, he could get for himself.  What he wanted he could buy.  Zacchaeus was not a needy person-- or so it seemed. 
            Yet, appearances can be deceptive.  Zacchaeus, as a chief tax collector, oversaw an operation by which taxes were collected from his people-- his fellow Jews-- on behalf of the Romans who had conquered and were now occupying the country.  A tax collector paid a certain amount for the franchise and was allowed to collect and keep for himself an amount over above what was owed to the governments.  In the right hands, it was a lucrative racket.
            As you can imagine, tax collectors were not popular.  They were resented, not only for their wealth, but for the way they came by it.  They were considered traitors, both to their country and to their religion.  As a tax collector, Zacchaeus was ostracized as a "sinner,” regarded as one of the lost sheep of Israel.
            Yet on that day, when Jesus walked through the streets of Jericho, Zacchaeus had the courage to step out of his comfort zone, to humble himself to climb a tree so he could see Jesus. 
            When Jesus looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today,” Zacchaeus responded by hurrying down and was happy to welcome Jesus into his home.
            The people who were there started grumbling and saying, “Jesus is going to be the guest of one who is a sinner.”
           
            The story gives us a glimpse of another side to Zacchaeus.  None of his neighbors saw it.  The label they had attached to him-- “sinner"--- kept them from seeing it.  The people who knew Zacchaeus saw him as a "sinner"-- unredeemable...unchangeable.  Maybe Zacchaeus had heard it so often that he thought so too. 
            But there was something-- some kind of inner discontent...  a yearning, perhaps, that made him curious about Jesus, and ultimately, vulnerable to change.
            Most people who looked at Zacchaeus missed it.  But not Jesus.  He looked past the "sinner" label and caught sight of a "son of Abraham."  
            Jesus looked at Zacchaeus through the eyes of love, and, beneath the layers of greed and selfishness, he saw a glimmer of God's image. He saw a spark that could light a fire.

            Something inside of Zacchaeus had urged him to get to where he could see Jesus.  Maybe he had heard that Jesus had a different attitude toward "sinners" than most people.  But, by climbing that tree, Zacchaeus may well have been seeking more than a good view.  It may have been his way of reaching out to something or someone who might help him change whatever needed changing in his life.  So it was that Jesus spied Zacchaeus and called him down-- not just from the tree-- but into a new life.
            The story of Zacchaeus reminds us that human beings have more capacity for transformation than we are apt to think.  And the story goes on to suggest that what transforms people is love.   
            Think about it.  Can you think of anything else that can bring about lasting change in human beings?
            I'm convinced of this:  you can't change another person or yourself by demanding it.  You can't coerce someone into a new way of life.  It takes something else-- something we can see in the case of Zacchaeus.
            The transformation that took place in Zacchaeus started when Jesus looked at him through the eyes of love and spoke to him as if he counted for something.  Jesus looked up at him in the tree and said, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today."
            It's GRACE-- love and acceptance that Zacchaeus had done nothing to deserve.
            Zacchaeus met someone who looked at him through the eyes of love...  who gave him a taste of the love of God.  And that changed him.  
            If that's going to happen today, if some of the "lost causes" you know are going to experience that kind of love-- it needs to happen through you.  God's love can become real to them if they experience it in the way you relate to them.   
            The point of the story of Zacchaeus is what the whole of the New Testament wants us to know:  only love can save us.  There is no love so strong and powerful as the love of Christ. 
            But many people today will never experience that love, unless they know it through you… through us.   

            Jesus corrects the disciples' mistaken assumption about faith-- that faith is something we can measure...  something we possess or acquire. Faith is a matter of our relationship with God, that begins as a response to God's gift.  Faith is a matter of trust and confidence in the freeing power of God's love for us and the power of God to fulfill God's promises. 
            Faith means freedom-- the freedom to give up the anxious and impossible task of keeping ourselves from falling.  Faith means freedom to stop thinking of ourselves as the source of our own life and hope, freedom to give up the struggle to control everything by our own power.  It means freedom to be at home in the presence of a loving God.[1]
            Faith means trusting that God has not given us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.  Faith means relying on the power of God who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works, but according to God's own purpose and grace.[2]

            The membership of the Littlefield congregation has been in decline for decades, since the demographics in the surrounding neighborhoods began to change and then changes in society that have resulted in fewer and fewer people affiliating with faith communities.
            The people of Littlefield Church could have given up, saying “we’re too small to make a difference.” 
            But that isn’t what happened.  Over the years, Littlefield has reached out to the community and witnessed for peace and justice in a variety of ways.   Our summer Peace Camp has touched the lives of hundreds of young people who have learned how to be peace builders. 
            Over the years, Littlefield Church has provided a place where people can come together to hear the voices of peacemakers.  And we have brought people from different faith traditions together to learn about one another and to find ways to pray and work together.

We live in a world which gives us every reason to hunker down… to say we can’t do anything about all the injustice and violence in the world.  We live in a world that encourages us to define ourselves according to how different we are from others – from other cultures, other countries, other faiths, other tribes.   We live in a world that prompts us to be full of fear-- to hold on, and to close down, rather than to let go and open up.  We live in a world that feels like it’s tottering on the brink-- a world very like the world of first century Palestine into which walked an itinerant Jewish teacher who changed history forever.
As I was looking through some of my study notes this week, I was reminded that 7 or 8 years ago we hosted Jewish activist Mark Braverman.  Mark told us that we are living in prophetic times, and that the church is called.[3]    He quoted Jim Wallis: “when politics fail, broad social movements emerge to change the political wind.  Look at the movement to end Jim Crow in America.  Look at the global movement to end apartheid in South Africa.  Where were they born, who were the leaders?  The church in the U.S. is poised to fulfill this historic calling, as it has done before in recent history.”
This is no time for us to live small, safe lives, constricted by our fears that we don’t have enough, that we’re too small or inadequate to make a difference.
The words of Martin Luther King, writing from the Birmingham jail fifty-five years ago, speak to us with an uncanny resonance today, in the twenty-first century:
The judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century.
            Twenty-first century North American culture is presenting unprecedented challenges for the church and a new sense of what it means to practice our faith courageously. This includes our understanding of the spiritual discipline of stewardship and how we live that out through our generosity. We are called to trust in God’s goodness and abundance…to think generously… to practice generosity… and to do so courageously.
            It takes courage to follow Jesus and live a life trusting in God, especially if we’re seeking to be good stewards, or managers, of all God has entrusted to us-- including our own lives and the Good News itself.
            When people have courage, they usually show mental or moral strength to overcome their fears and to keep moving forward.   In the midst of troubling times, it takes courage to reaffirm God’s presence, power and love as the only foundation on which we can stand.
            Psalm 31:24 says, “Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord.”
            We can live courageously when we learn to recognize ourselves as God’s beloved daughters and sons, despite our weaknesses and whatever frightening things might be going on around us.
            We can learn to live courageously when we trust in the LORD with all our heart. When we honor God with our substance and with the first fruits of our lives, we will taste God’s abundance.[4]  When we set our hopes on God, rather than the uncertainty of wealth, we can be freed to be rich in good works, to be generous, and willing to share…and we can take hold of the life that is real.[5]
            We can trust that “God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power and of love and a sound mind.”[6]
            Thanks be to God!
       

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
October 21, 2018

[1] Craig Dykstra, Growing in the Life of Faith (Geneva Press, 1999), p. 19.
[2]2 Timothy 1:7 - 9.
[3] Mark Braverman, “A New Thing Springs Forth.”  Sermon preached at Wyoming Presbyerian Church, Milburn, NJ March 21, 2010.  www.markbraverman.org
[4] Proverbs 3:5-10
[5] 1 Timothy  6:17-19/
[6] 2 Timothy 1:7.

Sunday, October 30, 2016

"Courage for A New Time". A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Reformation Sunday, Oct 30, 2016






"Courage for A New Time"

Mark 4:35-41



During the dark days of World War II, the World Council of Churches adopted a symbol which had been important to the early church during times of danger, hardship, and persecution:  the church is depicted as a storm-tossed boat, with a cross for a mast.
            Over the centuries, the ship has been a prominent symbol for the church in Christian art and architecture.  This part of the church building is called the “nave,” which is the Latin name for “ship.”  If you look up, you can see how the designers of this building evoked the symbolism.
Then, if you look at the stained glass windows, you’ll see that one of them depicts a ship tossing about on the waters.       
            When the early Christians tried to describe what it was like to be a Christian and to be a member of the church, they said it was like being on a ship with Christ in a storm.     The story we just heard from Mark's gospel seemed descriptive of the early church’s experience.  
            In the Gospel lesson, we find the disciples on a journey.  The journey is not one of their own choosing, but one they've been commanded to take.  
            It must have been a long day.  Jesus had been teaching beside the sea.  There had been a huge crowd gathered on the shore, while he sat in the boat and spoke in parables about the Reign of God.
            When evening came, Jesus said to the disciples, "Let us go across to the other side of the sea."  So, leaving the crowd behind, they set off across the sea. 
            The time I sailed across the Sea of Galilee, it was on a beautiful, calm, sunny day.  It was smooth sailing.  But Peter and the other fishermen among Jesus' inner circle of disciples knew from experience the danger of sudden storms on the Sea of Galilee.  As the wind and the waves fill the boat with water, the disciples are filled with fear.  They're sinking, and they’re afraid they might drown!  In terror, they turn to Jesus, who is calmly asleep in the stern of the boat.  The disciples woke Jesus with words we may use to address God when things get scary:    "Don't you care?"
            Mark tells us that Jesus had been sleeping through the storm.  In the Hebrew Scriptures, the ability to sleep peacefully is a sign of perfect trust in God's providential care.  So when Jesus was sleeping through the storm it didn't mean that he didn't care about his disciples.  It showed that he had perfect trust in God to keep them all safe.

            Jesus woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace!  Be still!"
            The words Jesus addressed to the wind and the waves are exactly the same words he used in the exorcism of the demon-possessed man in the first chapter of Mark.   It's a forceful rebuke, as he commands the forces of the storm, saying, “Be still.  Be calm!"
            And the wind ceased--   just like that.  There was a dead calm.
            Then Jesus said to them, "Why are you afraid?  Have you still no faith?"
            When you read through a gospel from beginning to end, you get a much better feel for what the evangelist means when he uses particular words and symbols that you miss if you read little parts of the gospel in isolation.  For Mark, faith isn't about holding correct, orthodox beliefs or living an upstanding moral life.  Faith is trust.  Fearfulness is the lack of faith.
            Mark tells us that disciples are sometimes called to do things that are risky or scary to us-- things that require that we trust in the power of God to sustain us, in spite of our fears.
            Mark wrote his gospel in a time of great persecution, under the emperor Nero.  Peter and Paul had in all likelihood been put to death.  The infant church was in danger of being wiped out.  So Mark included stories in his gospel that would encourage the people in the church.
            I think we all live our lives somewhere between fear and faith. A certain amount of fear can actually be healthy, when it protects us by motivating us to avoid unnecessary danger.  But too much fear can be unhealthy.  It can be crippling.
            Bruce Larson was once interviewing Christian psychiatrist Paul Tournier about his counseling methods.  He asked, "How do you help your patients get rid of their fears?"
            "Oh, I don't,” was Tournier's immediate answer.  "That which does not frighten does not have meaning.   All the best things in life have an element of fear in them."
            The disciples may have been afraid to cross the sea at night.  They must have felt fearful about going to the gentile side of the Galilee and reaching out to people they'd always regarded as unclean and   unacceptable.   Yet Jesus commanded them to get in the boat and go. 
            We're all caught somewhere between our desire for safety and security and our need to move to new and fearful areas.       It's good to be sensible and responsible...  to provide for our loved ones...  and to avoid certain unnecessary risks.  It’s good for a congregation to use best practices to be faithful stewards of the church’s resources. 
            But there's a difference between having a healthy degree of fear-- and being fear-full.  A certain amount of fear and struggle can actually contribute to our spiritual development.  But when fear takes charge of our lives, it can prevent us from being all that God intends for us to be.
            We might like to think that if we follow Jesus, he'll keep us out of the storm.   But, as disciples of Jesus Christ, we're not promised a safe, successful, long, or trouble-free life.  He never promised it would be easy.
            Congregations have a tendency to want to stay out of the storm.  It's scary to set out into less familiar territory...  to reach out to people who aren't just like us…. or to do some things in new ways.  It would feel safer to stay close to home…or to wait for a weather forecast that guarantees us that there won't be a storm.  
I'm convinced that the storms and the struggles of life-- both on a personal level and as a church-- are part of how Christ teaches us to trust in God's love and power to save us.     If we're going to travel with Jesus, we have to weather some storms. 
            The good news is that when we begin to trust in God's love and saving power we can overcome some of our fears.  We can begin to have faith we can weather the storms of life-- because Christ is with us. 

            We live in a tumultuous time—a time of great change and polarization and anxiety— in the world and in the church. 
And yet--- I believe God is working to do a new thing in our time.  I believe that this is a time of new reformation-- re-formation--and that God is working to create a new church, in and through us.   I believe that God wants to use us as instruments of justice and reconciliation in the world. 
So… on this Reformation Sunday, what do we hear the Spirit saying to us?
            In her blog a few years ago, Diana Butler Bass wrote of the Protestant Reformation movement: “It strikes me as interesting that those who followed the teaching of the new reform movement did not come to be known as “Reformists.”  Rather, the moniker that stuck was “Protestant.”  Luther and his associates were protesters rather than reformers—they stood up against the religious conventions of the day, arguing on behalf of those suffering under religious, social, and economic oppression.
            These religious protesters accused the church of their day of being too rich, too political, in thrall to kings and princes, having sold its soul to the powerful.   The original Protestants preached, taught, and argued for freedom—spiritual, economic, and political—and for God’s justice to be embodied in the church and the world.” 
The early Protestants believed that they were not only creating a new church-- but that they were also creating a new world, one that would resemble more fully God’s desire for humanity.  They weren’t content with the status quo.   They felt a deep discomfort within.  They knew things were not right.  And they set out to change the world.           
Long ago God spoke through the prophet Isaiah: “I am about to do a new thing.   Now it springs forth.  Don’t you perceive it?”[1]
I believe God is working to do a new thing in our time.  I believe that this is a time of new reformation-- re-formation--and that God is working to create a new church, in and through us.   I believe that God wants to use us as instruments of justice and reconciliation in the world.
So, on this Reformation Sunday, we can be thankful for the Reformation of the 16th century.   As we look around at the world we live in and see things that are not right, we can be glad that we are freed for a great adventure of faith.”
In the words of our Presbyterian Brief Statement of Faith,  “in a broken and fearful world, the Spirit gives us courage to pray without ceasing, to witness among all peoples to Christ as Lord and Savior, to unmask idolatries in Church and culture, to hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom, and peace.”[2]    
              
            In this ship we call the Christian life, we will go through some storms.  But we don't need to be afraid, because we know that Jesus is with us.  
            Thanks be to God!
            Amen.


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church 
Dearborn, Michigan
October 30, 2016


[1] Isaiah 43:9

[2] “A Brief Statement of Faith” of the Presbyterian Church (USA), 1990.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

"Living Into the Promises." A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church. Revelation 21-22 and John 14:23-29.






“Living into the Promises”
Rev. 21-22; John 14:23-29

            The book of Revelation is strange.  Even people who are lifelong New Testament scholars don’t pretend to understand all of it. 
            I remember some years ago—I think it was in the time leading up to the new millennium—the Littlefield Sunday morning Bible study group spent months studying the book of Revelation.  Each week, we read the scripture passages, we read what New Testament scholar Bruce Metzger wrote in the textbook we were studying, we watched a video of Metzger explaining the Revelation, and we discussed it. Week after week, we struggled with it.  When we came to the end of the book and the video segments, there were some in the group who thought we ought to spend a few more months, so we’d understand it better, and others who thought it would take a lot more than that to comprehend it…and some who were simply ready to move on to studying another part of the Bible.
            Parts of the Revelation are difficult to translate.  Much of the language and images are symbolic, and we have to try to figure out what they were meant to represent to the Christians of the late first century.  In this cryptic book, there are several themes that come through continually.  One theme is that of judgment.  But woven together with judgment are themes of hope and challenge.   
            The passage we heard from the Revelation today is fairly straightforward, and it is filled with hope.  It’s a vision of God’s intention for creation.  The Christians of the late first century were being brutalized and persecuted.  The rulers of the world they lived in were corrupt and abusive.   Immorality and exploitation went hand in hand with injustice.  Things were not the way they should be.  John’s Revelation challenged this world with the vision of God’s intention.  God’s world was supposed to be different. 
            The temptation could be to merely to wait.  Wait for God to bring about the new creation. But at the heart of the message of Revelation is the conviction that human beings not only need to endure in faith—they are to practice the ethics of God’s new creation.  They—and we-- are to be witnesses to others of what God intended.  Christians are charged with the responsibility of ushering in the new creation.
            In the vision received by John the Divine, the New Jerusalem is a perfect society, where there are no more tears, no more death.  Mourning and pain are no more.  What human beings couldn’t create with our best ingenuity and technical strength—God has brought to pass.  The kingdom of God has come.  God has wiped every tear from their eyes.
            What an astonishing promise!   What an amazing and glorious vision!  A time when night never comes, and innocent blood is never spilled.  An era of healing and renewal and reconciliation.
            This is a vision that can give us hope for the future.   But it’s a vision that reminds us how far from that vision our world is today.
            I think that all of us would agree that there is something wrong with the world we live in.  There are times when we’re tempted not to check the news, because one story after another keeps reminding us that things are not right with the world.   
           
            The final weeks of Eastertide mark the time of transition between Christ’s physical presence with his disciples and the “last days” following his ascension, which is the time of the church.   So today’s scripture passages can focus us on Jesus’ promise to the disciples that the Father will send the Holy Spirit.  Jesus gives his blessing:  “Peace I leave with you.  My peace I give you.  I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled; and do not let them be afraid.” 
            This gift of peace accompanies the gift of the Holy Spirit.   Christ will be present in and through the church, by the indwelling of the Spirit.   The Advocate will teach us everything and keep reminding us of what Christ has taught us.

            Jesus says, “I do not give to you as the world gives.”
            The world gives us the beauty of spring flowers and beautiful children, the love of family and friends.
            But so often, the world give us trouble, disappointments, and pain.  Sometimes people hurt us or leave us. 
            We live in a world where there is famine and war... earthquakes and floods.  We live in a country with a painful history of genocide and slavery and white supremacy, mixed with greatness and goodness.  The world gives us trauma, the grief of losing loved ones, violence, and fear. We may live with a sense that however we try to mend our broken world, it will never be enough and we won’t make a difference. 
            Jesus knows this, and he knows the fear that fills us as we face the world.  In the face of the trouble this world give us, Jesus offers us peace so that we can have courage to live fully and boldly as his disciples, keeping his commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves. 
            When we’re afraid--and act out of our fear-- we close off possibilities.  We make it hard for God to work through us, because we’re too busy trying to protect ourselves to focus on doing God’s work.  Jesus teaches his disciples to be courageous, which is to do the right thing, in spite of whatever fear we may be feeling, so that we can live more fully into God’s dream for creation.
            We are Easter People—people of the resurrection.  So, in the light of the resurrection, in the peace the Holy Spirit brings, how shall we live? What does the courage of Easter people look like?
            I think it can look different in different places and different contexts.  I appreciate what Lindsay Popper wrote about the courage of Easter people:  “Here is some of what I have seen:  I have seen Black Lives Matter protesters who dare to assert that they too are made in the image of God. One, a woman named Netta, tweeted during the protest in Ferguson that she had to go to church to teach Sunday school because you can’t forget about the little ones—the courage of Easter people empowers us both to struggle against unjust systems and to invest in those who will come after us.”[1]
            Lindsay continues, “I have seen the residents of the central Pacific Marshall Islands—people whose whole country is almost certainly going to be submerged due to global-warming-driven sea rise.  Rather than giving in to despair, these islanders have chosen to work for climate justice.   Loving their ancestors and loving the future generations, these Easter people have insisted, “We are not drowning. We are fighting.”
            She goes on to say, “I have seen a friend’s mother donate her kidney to a total stranger.  I have seen grandparents step up to the exhausting work of raising children when their parents weren’t able to.  I have seen schoolteachers and nurses and social workers work every day to ensure that all people have dignity.  I have seen a thousand small acts of courage—of people taking heart and choosing to have courage in the face of fear.”

            Here at Littlefield over the years, Easter courage has empowered the congregation to open the doors to welcome recent immigrants to learn English and to build bridges of understanding, to reach out in friendship to those who are different.  One of the challenges as we move into the future is to discern what Easter courage might look like for a new time.
            As people on a journey of faith, we are living in the world today.  But at our baptism we begin a journey toward the life-changing and life-giving horizons of God’s new heaven and new earth in the future to which God is calling us.  Our Christian faith gives us a vision of how God is working to transform all of creation. 
            In the Revelation, we hear that the nations and rulers of the earth will walk in God’s light.  Imagine that.  What a far cry from the way that we and all the nations do our business now, concerned about our own security, our own advantage, our own self-interest.
            Imagine a time to come in which nations will no longer try to build empires and bring glory and honor to them selves, but instead will bring glory and honor to God into the holy city.  Imagine a time to come when there are no more disputes over boundaries—because there are none.     
            The vision we heard to today invites us to look forward to a new creation in which the gates are always open.  As Jill Duffield suggests:  no metal detectors, no standing spread eagle for a TSA X-ray, no pass codes, no pat downs or security guards….  Open gates.” [2]
            In an age of fear and ever-increasing screening, checking, and scanning-- can you imagine it?  A time when there are no walls of separation… no security walls… or gated communities, because earthly walls and borders are no longer needed.  In the New Jerusalem, God won’t tolerate any threat to the inhabitants. 
            In a time when the news brings us reports of people escorted off of airplanes because a fellow passenger felt uncomfortable or suspicious, when people blow themselves and others up in Kabul and Lahore and Brussels, when refugees press against fences that pen them into camps, when mass shooters take precious lives--  imagine the sense of peace and security in John’s vision.
            Imagine a time in Jerusalem when the various Christian groups don’t bicker over the space in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the Ethiopians aren’t stuck up on the roof,  and they don’t need to have to have a Muslim family taking care of the key to keep the various Christian groups from locking each other out.  Imagine the land we call Holy without the Wall of Separation, because all of God’s children have realized that God loves all of the children in the family and not just them… and all have learned to live together in peace and respect…  and there’s no need to shut people in or out with walls or gates.
            Imagine a time to come, when we will all sit at the table  together—not only with other Americans and Canadians and Western Europeans, but with Iraqis, Iranians, Palestinians and Israelis, Afghanis, Russian, South and North Koreans, Sudanese and Rwandans.   Christians, Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, Buddhists and others-- sharing fellowship and our God with those who have been our friends and those who have been our enemies.
            Living into God’s dream challenges us to work for reconciliation between nations, between people of different ethnicities and religions, between any groups that are estranged from one another.  It means working for justice, beginning now. 
            Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”   As people of faith, we are called to live into God’s dream for creation, relying on God’s help and God’s promises.  We are called to be agents of change, so that those institutions that hurt and destroy and bring tears will be changed into institutions of healing.  We are called to open ourselves to be changed, so that we are agents of healing and peace, leaves on the tree of faith for the healing of the nations.
            We aren’t there yet.   As we worship together on Sunday mornings, as we nurture and encourage one another, study the Bible and pray, “Thy kingdom come, Lord” and try to follow Jesus in our daily lives—we live more and more into God’s promises.
            Now we can see only dimly the new heaven and new earth. But we have God’s promise that the time will surely come when we see his face and his Name will be on our foreheads.
            Thanks be to God!
            Amen!  
           


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
May 1, 2016
                                   


[1] Lindsay Popper, “The Courage of Easter People, at http://day1.org/7160-the_courage_of_easter_people

[2] Jill Duffield, “6th Sunday of Easter-May 1, 2016” in The Presbyterian Outlook.  http://pres-outlook.org/2016/04/6th-sunday-easter-may-1-2016/

Sunday, October 25, 2015

"Courage for New Vision". A sermon on Mark 10:46-52 and Isaiah 43:18-21 for Reformation Sunday at Littlefield Presbyterian Church.



"Courage for New Vision"
Isaiah 43:18-21; Mark 10:46-52

One of the major themes in Mark's gospel is how spiritually blind the disciples were.  Last week we heard Mark's account of how James and John were so spiritually blind that, in their grasping for worldly privilege, they asked Jesus to let them sit on his right and left sides in glory.  They didn't seem to know there was anything wrong with their vision.
            In today’s gospel lesson, we find Bartimaeus sitting by the side of the road, begging for his living.  He doesn't have a perfect understanding of who Jesus is.  But he knows what he needs.  Even though Bartimaeus is physically blind, he's clearly focused on what he wants more than anything else in the world.  He wants to be able to see.   And so, when he hears that Jesus of Nazareth is coming down the road, Bartimaeus calls out, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

            Now, in asking to be healed,  Bartimaeus is taking  a risk.  It'll be the end of his old life.  If he regains his sight, he won't be able to sit by the road and beg for a living.  He might see some things he won't want to see.  His new life will be strange and new. 
           
            Mark holds Bartimaeus up as a model of faith.   He knew what he needed and wanted more than anything else in the world.  He had the courage to see strange, new things.  He believed that Jesus could heal him.  So—even though there were people trying to discourage him, telling him to be quiet-- Bartimaeus dared to cry out to Jesus--  over and over--  and ask for vision.   "Let me SEE again."
            And just like that.  Just words.  No mud or spittle this time, like the last time Mark told about Jesus healing a blind man.[1]  Not even a touch.  In the blinking of an eye, Bartimaeus can see!  His faith has made him well!
            "Go your way,"  Jesus tells him.  But Bartimaeus doesn't go his way.  Right then he decides that Jesus' way will be his way, and he chooses to walk with Jesus, on the way.  His faith and his new vision enable him to follow Jesus as his disciple.
            "Go your way,"   Jesus says.   Jesus doesn't force or coerce us.  He invites us to choose freely which way we go. 
            After years of blindness, I imagine there were places Bartimaeus might have wanted to go...  things he wanted to see.  Yet it's clear in the story that immediately Bartimaeus becomes a disciple   and follows Jesus on the way.  It’s as if—once he can really see--  there's no other way.
           
            From earliest times in the church, restoring of sight has been a metaphor for the new life experienced in Christ   and for spiritual discernment.  In the early days of the church, the act of baptism was referred to in Greek as “enlightenment.”  The story of the man born blind and the story of blind Bartimaeus became part of the curriculum of instruction for new church members.  
            When we open ourselves to Christ’s healing grace, we begin to see things differently.  As we begin to see the world through Christ’s eyes--  the eyes of love--  our values are changed...  and our priorities are re-ordered.  We’re re- formed.
           
            Today on Reformation Sunday, we remember our history as a church...  to remember that our Reformed tradition is a living tradition. One of the great watchwords of the Reformed tradition is Semper Reformanda":  The church Reformed, always being reformed, by the Holy Spirit, according to the word of God.
            Reformation Sunday commemorates the occasion in 1517 when Martin Luther posted his 95 theses on the church door in Wittenberg, Germany.  Just as God worked through the reformers who came before Martin Luther and John Calvin--  Jan Hus and the Czech Brethren, the Waldensians, John Wycliffe, and the Hussites,  as well as those who came after them--  Zwingli, John Knox, and others,   God has continued to work through the Spirit during the whole sweep of Christian history. 
            In several recent books, Phyllis Tickle describes the time we live in now as “The Great Emergence,” and offers a big-picture theory of how Christianity is changing and why.  In her book The Great Emergence, Tickle observed that about every 500 years the church cleans out its attic and has a “rummage sale.” 
            Going backward in time 500 years before our time is the Great Reformation.  Five hundred years prior to the Great Reformation is the Great Schism, around 1054, when the Greek or Eastern Orthodox branch of Christianity and the Roman branch separated. 
            Five hundred years prior to that takes us back to Gregory the Great, who became pope in a time of total upheaval following the fall of the Roman Empire… a time of bitter dissension, when the Oriental branch of Christianity—Coptic, Ethiopian, Armenian, and Syrian-- was separated from both Western and Eastern Christianity.  Pope Gregory is known as “Great” because he was able to build on the work of St. Benedict in the monastic movement in building a kind of church-political coherence of monasteries and convents that were centers of learning and service, and that would protect, preserve, and characterize the Christian movement for the next five centuries through the Dark Ages.
            If we look back approximately 500 years before that, we’re looking at what Tickle and others call the Great Transformation 2,000 years ago--  the age that gave us the Christian faith in the first place.
            I’m grateful to Tickle for her big-picture framework of how the Spirit of God has worked over the centuries to reform the Christian faith, and for how she shows how the re-formation in the church has always been related to the political, economic, and social upheavals that were also taking place.
            Tickle and others point to historical forces that combined to produce the Great Reformation:  the invention of the printing press, the rise of nation-states, corruption in religious institutions, and the emergence of an educated elite.  Every religion is tied to the culture in which it exists, just as it informs the society.  Five hundred years after the Great Reformation, we are experiencing corresponding challenges in communications, politics, religion, and scholarship.[2]  Think of the changes in our society in just the past few decades!
            This is a whole new time in the church, and for a lot of people it can be scary.  In a major study released earlier this year, the Pew Research Center describes a “changing U.S. Religious Landscape,” in which Christians have been delining sharply as a share of the population, while unaffiliated and other faiths continue to grow.         
            This is the context we live in.   I agree with Diana Butler Bass  when she writes: in this new context, “we need to know who we are with great clarity and personal commitment.   At the same time, we need to be able to love our neighbors and work beyond faith boundaries to create a new shared sense of common good.  This will call for a different sort of church than the one we knew in the centuries that came before.”[3]
            The church is being called to a new way of life.  We’re being called to re-create our identity building on the wisdom of the past, and to embrace the questions of an emerging future in which Christians may be a minority in a pluralistic society.  Part of the good news of this is that Christians have often been more faithful and creative when we are not in charge of the society.
            On this Reformation Sunday, we could celebrate what happened 500 years ago…and then hold on for dear life to the way we’re comfortable with doing church.  We could do that.  But I don’t think that’s a faithful way to celebrate the church’s journey in faith.
            We live in a broken and fearful world, and we could find so much to be afraid of.  As a congregation, we could retreat into our familiar ways of doing church, and try to find comfort and security in being a nice and friendly little congregation. 
            Or we can ask Jesus to give us the ability to see things in new, fresh ways.  We can hear the call to “take heart”—to have courage—and follow Jesus gratefully into new opportunities and possibilities. 
            We can remember how God spoke to faithful people in a hard time, saying, “Look.  I’m doing something new.  Don’t you perceive it?”
            God is still working on us, leading us further into the truth.  The church does make progress.  It comes through the painful process of repentance...  changing our minds...  and correcting our practice.
            The good news is that--  in God’s presence--  miracles do happen.  And so, my friends, take heart.  Do we have the courage to see? 
            Jesus offers us the gift of vision, so we can see to follow him.  He  invites us to come and see the world through HIS eyes...  to see new possibilities...  and have new values and priorities, both as individuals and as the church.    He invites us to have our eyes opened to the truth of God’s redeeming love...  and to follow him in an adventure of faith.
            And so, my friends, take heart!
            Amen.
             


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
October 26, 2015


[1] Mark 8:22-25
[2] Diana Butler Bass, A People’s History of Christianity: The Other Side of the Story (Harper One, 2009), p. 154.

[3] Diana Butler Bass, “What Can the Church Become?”    Posted October 25, 2012 at http://seaburynext.wordpress.com/