Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts

Sunday, November 18, 2018

"Don't Worry or Be Afraid." A Sermon from Littlefield Church on Luke 12:13-34.


"Don't Worry or Be Afraid"

Luke 12:13-34


       
In this world we live in, there’s so much to fear.  Political speeches on various parts of the spectrum have named a litany of things and people that we should be afraid of.   When we travel, we go through security screenings.  There are metal detectors at big events, surveillance cameras in a growing number of places.  Churches have security systems.   I just attended a training on safety in houses of worship.  We’re surrounded by reminders of the possibility of danger and possible loss.
            On my phone, I get texts and emails from the local police and the Nextdoor app with subject headings like “Be on the lookout”, “Heed the Warning”, “Attempted home invasion,” “Secure your home and automobile.”    From a variety of voices, we keep getting messages: “Be afraid.  Be very afraid.”
            Truth be told, a lot of the news is grim around the country.  Mass shootings.  Forest fires. Global warming.  Economic worries.  Diseases. Fears of not having enough.
             
            At the beginning of today’s gospel lesson, Jesus warns people in the crowd to be on their guard against all kinds of greed.  He puts our relationship with material wealth in perspective: “for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

            Then Jesus tells a parable, about a rich man whose land produced abundantly-- so abundantly that his barns were full.  He had so much that he’d run out of space to store his harvest. This rich man thought to himself, “What should I do?”
            Then he answers himself: “I’ll do this: I’ll pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I’ll store all my grain and my goods. And I’ll say to my soul, ‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years. Relax, eat, drink, be merry.”
            This rich man thinks--or hopes-- that if he can only fill more barns, then he can finally relax and be happy.
            But God said to the rich man, ‘You fool!  This very night your very life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”
            Jesus goes on to teach his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, don’t worry about your life, about what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.
            Look at the birds, Jesus says.  They don’t worry about stuff, and God provides for them.  Look at the lilies.  They don’t worry about stuff, and God provides for them.  How much more will God provide for you?   It is God’s good pleasure to provide in abundance.   Don’t be anxious.  Don’t worry or be afraid.   

            Stuff, Jesus tells us, is not to be collected and stored up.    Stuff is to be shared… given away…used for others.  He told a rich man who was too attached to his wealth, “Sell your stuff and give it away to those who are in need.”[1] 
            The kind of life Jesus describes has to do with choosing to live more simply, choosing to intentionally have less stuff, choosing to stop collecting more possessions… choosing to discover our sense of well-being in a just sharing of material possessions.
            What Jesus teaches about having a faithful relationship to possessions isn’t hard to understand.  But it isn’t easy to follow. 
            It’s so counter-cultural, in a society in which we are known as consumers… a society in which we are bombarded by messages that try to convince us that the things we buy and own can make us happy…secure…and content. 
            I’ve become more and more convinced that the greed and worry and fear that Jesus keeps warning his disciples about are at the root of so much of the evil and the problems in our world today.           We live in one of the richest nations in the world.  Yet we don’t seem to have the will to make sure that the neediest of Americans have what they need.
            We have enough food to provide basic nutrition to everyone in our nation. There’s enough food in the world for everyone to have a basic diet.  It’s a matter of priorities.  What are our highest priorities?  To care for the most vulnerable in our nation?   To pay for wars?  To give tax cuts to the wealthiest people?
            I believe that—deep down—a lot of us want to be more generous and gracious.  I think what gets in the way for a lot of us has to do with chronic anxieties.  We worry about whether we’ll have enough.  We’re afraid we’ll be vulnerable or dependent if we don’t build bigger barns or houses or retirement accounts, so we cling tightly to what we have. Maybe we tell ourselves that, if we can accumulate more-- then we’ll be happy and secure, and then we’ll be free to share.
Jesus knows our human condition.  I think that’s why he spent so much time teaching about how to be in a faithful relationship with material possessions and how to have faithful priorities. 
            I like the way Eugene Peterson translates this passage in The Message.  Peterson hears Jesus saying, “What I’m trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting-- so you can respond to God’s giving…. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met….” 
“Don’t worry about your life,” Jesus says.  “Don’t keep striving for the things of this world…  Your Father in heaven knows what you need…. So, strive for God’s kingdom, and what you really need will be given to you as well.”
“What you really need will be given to you…. It is God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

            Do we believe this?   Do we live like we believe it—like we trust God to give us what we need? 
            Imagine how freeing it would be if—instead of being afraid, instead of worrying—we would stake our lives in trust in our great and faithful God!     
            Jesus asks his disciples, “Why are you afraid?”  If we trust that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ Jesus our Lord,[2]  then we don’t need to be afraid.
            In the midst of all the voices of fear, we are called to live fearlessly.  Not because the world isn’t scary.  Not because we are invincible.  Not because we don’t struggle with fear and anxiety.  But because we know we belong to God.
            This may sound simplistic to some, but placing our trust not in earthly treasures but in the treasures of God’s kingdom can be powerful and transformative.
            As Henri Nouwen wrote, “The more you feel safe as a child of God, the freer you will be to claim your mission in the world as a responsible human being.”
 Living fearlessly in faith can free our energy, our imaginations, our intelligence to live into the Kingdom.  It can open our hearts and empower us to embody God’s love in ways that the world so desperately needs.
            Over the years, the stock market and the value of our homes can go up and down. Governments rise and fall.  Corporations split and merge and restructure.  Possessions can be stolen or destroyed in fires or floods.  In faith communities, income rises and falls.  The political scene is full of scary scenarios.
But don’t worry.  Don’t be afraid.  God knows what we need, and it is God’s good pleasure to provide us with what we truly need.  
            So… may we learn how to relax…and not be so preoccupied with getting or hoarding or trying to be in control-- so we can respond in faith to God’s generosity.  May we learn to trust that God will provide what we truly need.   May we learn not to worry or be afraid, as we learn to trust that God is good—all the time. 
Do we believe this?  Do we believe that God is good and that God delights in giving us what we need?   Do we trust in it? 
            I pray that we do.  I pray that we can affirm our trust:  God is good. All the time. All the time, God is good!
            Thanks be to God!
      
Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
November 18, 2018



[1] Matthew 19:16-30; Mark 10:17-31; Luke 18:18-30.
[2] Romans 8:38-39








[1] Matthew 19:16-30; Mark 10:17-31; Luke 18:18-30.
[2] Romans 8:38-39





Sunday, June 3, 2018

"Sabbath for the Sake of Life." A sermon on Mark 2:23 - 3:6 from Littlefield Presbyterian Church


"Sabbath for the Sake of Life"

Mark 2:23 - 3:6; Deuteronomy 5:12-15

Mark’s Gospel moves at a fast pace. In the first chapter, Jesus is baptized, tempted, announces his ministry, calls his disciples, casts out an unclean spirit, heals many people, goes out preaching the gospel, and cleanses a leper. People are coming to him from all over.
            Then, we see the beginnings of controversy. When the scribes of the Pharisees see that he’s eating with sinners and tax collectors, they question his disciples about who Jesus is associating with. People question why Jesus’ disciples aren’t fasting.

            In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus is going through the grain fields, and his disciples begin to pluck heads of grain. The Pharisees say to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the Sabbath?” 
             
            Jesus doesn’t deny the accusation. Instead, he appeals to a historical precedent, saying, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food?” He refers to a time when King David did something sacrilegious-- eating the bread of the Presence, that only priests were permitted to eat. This historical precedent doesn’t have anything to do with keeping the Sabbath, but seems to justify the idea that law gives way to need.

            At the synagogue, people were watching to see if Jesus would heal the man with the withered hand on the Sabbath, so they could frame a charge against him. Jesus asks, “Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath, or to do evil?”  To save life or to kill?”
            Mark tells us that Jesus was deeply upset at their hard-heartedness, and looked around at them angrily. Then he healed the man’s hand. The Pharisees went out right away and began to plot with the Herodians against Jesus, trying to find a way to destroy him.
            Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for humankind-- not humankind for the Sabbath.”
            As theologian William Placher points out, Jesus wasn’t breaking with Judaism, but could have been quoting a number of rabbinic texts. The line of division here runs not between Christians and Jews-- but between those in any tradition who lose sight of the point of the laws.[1]
            This is where these stories reach beyond their original first-century context to speak to us all.

            My grandmother grew up in a time when many practicing Christians didn’t do non-essential work on Sundays. Their farm family would milk the cows and feed the livestock, but they wouldn’t have worked in the field or the garden. When she was older, Grammy decided that she could do fancy needlework on Sunday, because it was relaxing for her. But she wouldn’t mend clothes on Sunday, because that was real work.
            Some of us who are old enough probably remember a time when there were “Blue Laws” that set Sundays apart by limiting what was legal to do on Sundays. Stores were closed on Sundays, and a lot of gas stations, so you planned to buy your milk and bread and gas before Sunday came.  Movie theaters were closed on Sundays.  You weren’t supposed to play cards. In many states, you couldn’t buy liquor.

            There weren’t a lot of other things competing for our time on Sundays. I remember going to church on Sunday morning, and then packing a picnic into the car, or visiting relatives. Sunday evenings, we had youth group at church.
            For many people, the Blue Laws seemed restrictive and burdensome, and they eventually were discontinued.
            A lot has changed since that time. Some families are so stressed with working long hours that they’ll tell you Sunday is the only time they have to do the laundry or shop for groceries.  Others are busy with a round of various activities.
            I don’t think many of us would want to go back to a time when there were laws dictating what we can do on Sundays. But I think our scripture texts invite us to take a fresh look at keeping the Sabbath.
            As Walter Brueggemann wrote, “It is unfortunate that in U.S. society, largely out of a misunderstood Puritan heritage, Sabbath has gotten enmeshed in legalism and moralism and blue laws and life-denying practices that contradict the freedom-bestowing intention of Sabbath.”[2]

            Keeping the Sabbath was one of the Ten Commandments, and it was reinforced by the prophets and by Jewish teaching. It was one of the things that made Jews distinctive from their neighbors. It was a sign that they belonged to the true God, the Creator of the world, who had rested on the seventh day.
           
            “Observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, as the LORD your God commanded you. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. You shall not do any work--you, or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slaves may rest as well as you. Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the LORD your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.  Therefore, the LORD your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.”[3]

            When Israel arrived at Mount Sinai after Moses led them out of slavery in Pharaoh’s Egypt, they were in the process of what Walter Brueggemann calls “regime change.”   The people needed to accept the new rules of governance, to commit themselves to “love God” and to “love neighbor.”
            The Ten Commandments begin with the Exodus from Egypt: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.[4]
            The people remembered that Egypt’s socioeconomic power was organized like a pyramid, with a work force producing wealth, all of which flowed upward to the power elite and eventually to Pharaoh.
            When they heard the commandment to observe the Sabbath, they would have remembered that there had been no Sabbath in Egypt, no rest from work for slaves, no rest for anybody in the Egyptian system, because frantic productivity drove the entire system. In the commandment to keep the Sabbath, YHWH abolishes the entire system of anxious production.
            As Brueggemann says, “there are limits to how much and how long slaves must produce bricks. There are limits to how much Pharaoh can store and consume and administer. The limit is set by the weekly work pause that breaks the production cycle. And those who participate in the Sabbath break the anxiety cycle. They are invited to awareness that life does not consist in frantic production and consumption that reduces everyone else to threat and competitor.”  As the Sabbath permits a waning of anxiety, so energy is redeployed to the neighborhood.”[5]
            “The odd insistence of the God of Sinai is to counter anxious productivity with committed neighborliness.”  This creates a culture of security and respect and dignity. [6]
            The commandment to observe the Sabbath, to carve out a time of rest for the community, can be transformative.  It’s no wonder, then, that Jesus invited his disciples out of the system of anxiety: “I tell you, don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?”[7]
           
            The good news is that Jesus offers us an antidote to anxiety. The antidote is abundance, the outpouring of generosity of the creator God.
             
            We need the Sabbath for our own personal well-being    and for the abundant life of our neighbors. If we keep the Sabbath, we don’t get to overlook neighbors whose lives are being threatened on a daily basis. If we keep the Sabbath, we don’t get to ignore how the lives of neighbors are being stripped of their dignity and worth. 
            God invites us to Sabbath rest because it is life-oriented and life-giving, and because it can create a Sabbath-shaped way of looking at all of life.

            When we come to the Table, we hear again Jesus’ story of abundance. We who follow Jesus have decided that this story is true. The four great verbs: he took, he blessed, he broke, he gave.  This is the true story of our lives.
            So, come to the Table to be fed by Christ.  Taste his bread and drink his wine.  Know that God is good! Amen!


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
June 3, 2018


[1]William Placher, Mark: Belief, A Theological Commentary on the Bible.  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.  Kindle Edition.
[2] Walter Brueggemann, Sabbath As Resistance: Saying No to the Culture of Now. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.  Kindle Edition.
[3] Deuteronomy 5:12-15

[4] Exodus 20:2
[5] Walter Brueggemann, Sabbath As Resistance. Kindle Edition (28%)
[6] Brueggemann, Sabbath Resistance.
[7] Matthew 6:25-31

Sunday, October 22, 2017

"Where Your Treasure Is." A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church.



"Where Your Treasure Is"

Matthew 6:19-24; 1 Timothy 6:6-10, 24-34



In the movie “Jaws,” a marine biologist is desperate to find out what’s gone wrong with the sharks in the area.  A large shark is brought in, and the biologist lays the shark up on a table and proceeds to do an autopsy.  He slits open the shark’s belly.  Out of the belly comes first one fish…and then another.  He takes dozens of fish from the shark’s belly.  Then there’s a blender.  An old Florida license plate.  Assorted bits and pieces of this and that.  The shark really is an “eating machine.”
            But it’s an utterly indiscriminate eating machine.  The shark was consuming everything in sight—whether it was good for it or not.
            Someone said that the story of the shark is a parable of modern society.  We consume indiscriminately.  We have deep, vast hungers.  We try to satisfy them in different ways.  But often we consume and collect much that we don’t need…and that isn’t good for us.
            And so, for a while I’ve been wondering if part of our calling in the church today isn’t to find out what people want and then give it to them, to try to satisfy all their hungers-- but rather to give people food that’s worth having and to school people in how to be hungry in the right ways.

            The gospel lesson we heard is from a collection Jesus’ teachings on assorted matters in the Sermon on the Mount.  There’s a theme in this section: the urgency of seeking the kingdom of heaven above all earthly distractions.[1]
            In this passage, we hear Jesus warning against the human tendency to collect things and treasure them    and to judge peoples’ status by what they have.  In some cultures, one is judged by one’s livestock, in others, by the possession of precious metals and rare gems.  In some societies, a woman’s dowry might have been treasured clothing or jewelry.
            In a money economy, those who aspire to a higher status work to acquire monetary wealth. Then, when someone has enough money, they can show their wealth with luxury cars, large and elegant homes, fine artwork or valuable jewelry--to name a few of our treasures.  

            The problem with investing our sense of worth and safety in money and possessions is that it is never truly safe.  Cash can be lost or stolen. Expensive cars can rust…and clothing can be damaged by insects.  Homes and other treasured possessions can be destroyed in wildfires or floods.  Deadbolt locks, safety deposit boxes, bank accounts--none of these can protect what we desire most deeply in our hearts.
            I think Tom Long is right when he says what our hearts truly desire is “to count--to count for something and to count to someone. To come to the end of a day--or the end of a life--with the satisfaction of having stood for what is good, with the joy of having been loved and having loved well in return, with the memory of having shown mercy, and with the peace of having walked with God--these are the true treasures, the treasures of the kingdom, a fortune no thief can plunder.”[2]
            The call to store up treasures in heaven is radical call to be oriented toward God’s way of love and abundance and justice in how we see the world.  If we see life as a gift from God, a bountiful outpouring of God’s providing, then we can be free to hold possessions with a light grasp and to be generous toward others. In contrast, if we see things through spiritual eyes that are “unhealthy,” we’ll see life as a competition between winners and losers over scarce resources. In the wise words of Proverbs, “Do not wear yourself out to get rich; be wise enough to desist. When your eyes light upon it, it is gone; for suddenly it takes wings to itself, flying like an eagle toward heaven.”[3] 
             If we see the world in terms of scarcity, we won’t be freed from fear and selfishness. But if we have a healthy vision of life, we can trust in God’s goodness and abundance, and we will be free to be generous. 
            “No one can serve two masters,” Jesus teaches. “You cannot serve God and mammon--or wealth.”  “Mammon” is an Aramaic word that means “money” or “possessions.”
            Many of us like to believe we have chosen to serve God-- not mammon. But in our daily life it is often mammon that sets our priorities. Of course, we’d like to share more toward the poor, but it’s too hard, because we need so much for ourselves. We hope to be more charitable in the future, but at the moment we have too many obligations.  We’re afraid we won’t have enough.
            We live in such a materialistic society that it’s hard for us to look critically at how much power money and possessions have over how we see things and make choices.
            Ultimately, whether we serve God or wealth depends upon trust-- trusting God to provide what we really need.  
            Jesus continues, and the “therefore” in verse 25 tells us that this is all connected. “Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you-- you of little faith?
            “Therefore, do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’…. indeed, your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
            “So, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”
            In the original Greek, the verbs translated as “look” and “consider” are strong verbs that suggest more than a casual glance. They invite us to study, to really look, at a world that God has created and has pronounced “good,” a world where God provides abundantly, a world where we don’t need to be imprisoned by worry or anxiety. Jesus invites us to imagine living in such a world of goodness and abundance.
            Yes, the rent or mortgage and insurance and taxes still have to be paid, and we still need to buy groceries, and the checkbook still has to be balanced. But we have seen this other world-- the world of God’s gracious, faithful care and abundance. 

            During stewardship season, we are challenged to hold our relationship with money up to the light of our Christian faith.  Our faith challenges us to strive to overcome our tendency to live out of fear, guarding whatever wealth we have left--   and instead open our lives more fully to the truth we hear in First Timothy:   “They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.”
            What is the life that really is life?  It is the life that focuses on the only true security that human beings have in this world, the completely reliable love of God.  “Take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you were made,” writes the author of 1 Timothy.  “It is God alone who has immortality and dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see; to God be honor and eternal dominion.  Amen.”

            It is one of the many paradoxes of faith that-- at the very times when we feel most anxious about our own sufficiency--   the act of sharing and generosity is the act that can give us the greatest joy and sense of peace.  It changes the lenses through which we see our own situation. 
            It is an act of liberation to be generous, an act that frees us from the bondage of anxiety, disappointment, and resentment over the loss of the false security.  It is an act of freedom that can replace false security with the real security of God, “who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.”     It is an act of faith to commit ourselves to giving God the first fruits of our lives.
            “There is great gain in godliness combined with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it; but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these.”
            The “life that really is life” is a life of contentment.  The “life that really is life” is a life of trust in God’s gracious providing for what we really need, rather than endless desire and striving for more.
            So-- let us strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness…and store up treasures in heaven.   Let us open ourselves to the riches of the “life that really is life!”
            May it be so!



Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
October 22, 2017



[1] Thomas G. Long, Matthew. (Westminster John Knox Press, 1997), p. 73.
[2] Thomas G. Long, Matthew, p. 74.
[3] Proverbs 23:6.



Sunday, July 16, 2017

"Planting as an Act of Faith:" A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Purple Coneflower in my neighbor's yard. The photo will make sense to you if you read the sermon.

"Planting as an Act of Faith"

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23


      
         Those of us who are gardeners plant our gardens in the spring and wait eagerly for what we planted to produce flowers or vegetables. 
            For a few weeks, I had an abundance of black raspberries.  But not too much else in my garden is ripe yet.  A little lettuce. Some chard.  But no ripe cucumbers or peppers-- yet.  Growing plants need time.
This is a good time of year to think about what the Parable of the Sower can teach us. 
Jesus has come out of the house and is sitting beside the sea. Such great crowds gather around him that he gets into a boat and sits there, while the crowd stands on the beach. And he tells them many things in parables, beginning with the parable we heard today.

            "A sower went out to sow.  And as he sowed, some seeds fell on the path, and the birds came and ate them up.  Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and they sprang up quickly, since they had no depth of soil.  But when the sun rose, they were scorched; and since they had no root, they withered away. 
            Other seeds fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them.  Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty...."        

            This is rich...  deep...  mysterious stuff!   “Those who have ears to hear-- listen!”

            So-- what do we hear in the parable?  I think we get some clues from the context.  Chapter 13 begins with the words "the same day," which connects it to what has happened before. 
The parables of chapter 13 are Jesus' response to the rejection he has experienced in the preceding two chapters.   He’s trying to help people understand why a lot of people aren't responding positively to what Jesus is saying and doing.

Those of us who are gardeners know what we do to try to produce a good harvest.  We prepare the soil. We buy good seed and plant it. We water when necessary. Then comes the time of waiting-- the time between planting and harvest.          
            But we are well aware of how many things are out of our control.
Things can happen that we don’t control. Heat waves.  Drought.  Torrential rain or hail storms.  Hungry rabbits. We're not in charge of any of this.
Even in good soil, the increase differs.  “Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty.”
Jesus tells the crowds that they won’t always be successful when they sow the seeds of the kingdom. Did you figure out the statistics from what he says?  Sowing the seeds of the kingdom results in failure three out of four times.  Seventy-five percent of the time, the work you do related to the kingdom of heaven will not yield anything.  Nothing.
The Rev. Jill Duffield suggests we imagine that stat on a college recruitment postcard or an annual financial report or the list of best jobs or a guide to happiness, health, and wealth. “Come join us and fail--often, repeatedly, spectacularly, totally!  See your efforts result in nothing!  Not exactly the top 10 ways to wealth or three easy steps to happiness or 30 days to a thinner you.”[1]

When Jesus tells this parable to the crowds and to the disciples he’s mentoring, he knows that the road ahead will become increasingly risky and harrowing. If we’re going to follow Jesus and sow seeds of the kingdom of heaven, we’re going to get plenty of opportunities to learn from failure. 
Jesus has already warned the disciples of persecutions to come. In the very next chapter, John the Baptist will be beheaded. God’s present and coming kingdom will not come without great resistance, and Jesus doesn’t try to hide that truth. Failure is certain. Sometimes our best efforts won’t bear any fruit-- or at least not the kind or amount of fruit we hope for.
            We are living in anxious times.  Some of us find ourselves having moments of despair at the state of the world.  When we look around, there are more problems than we can possibly solve. And sometimes we worry and wonder: “What’s this about, God?  Have we been planting enough seed? Are we doing something wrong?
            In agricultural terms, we live between the time of planting and the harvest, and it is a time of uncertainty.  We want to trust that we will see the planting bear fruit.  We want to believe that what God has begun will come to fruition.
              
            Barbara Brown Taylor calls the process of how seed sprouts and grows "agricultural grace."[2]   We're not in control.  As much as we'd like to keep digging up the seed to check and see if it's sprouted yet, we need to plant and then wait in faith. 

            I'm continually amazed and surprised by the plants that appear in places where I didn't plant them.  Under my blue spruce trees, in the shade garden, beside the hostas and lily of the valley, I have a couple of Rose of Sharon shrubs. One grows up against the trunk of one of the spruces—so close I couldn’t dig it out if I tried.  
            My next-door neighbors on one side don’t seem to care about anything in their yard except the required mowing, yet this year I see some Purple Coneflowers growing next to their street tree, apparently from seeds from my plants.  
            I find Black-Eyed Susan’s and Purple Coneflowers and Feverfew Chrysanthemums and Toadflax and Cornflowers and Rose Campion growing in places I know I didn't plant them.  Over the years, my neighbors have seedlings from my flowers and tomatoes growing on their side of the fence-- things that they didn't plant.  Sometimes a dill plant grows in the expansion joints of my driveway. I've planted lots of flowers and herbs.  But the wind and the birds have a part in the planting too.
            Sometimes I’ve thought the White Columbine I brought from Pennsylvania is gone, crowded out by more aggressive plants.  Then a season or two later it shows up again and blooms--a reminder of Helen, the woman who gave me the plant as a parting gift when I moved to Michigan.  
            I’ve never planted any common milkweed in my garden, but I have an abundance of it in my garden to provide a good habitat for Monarch butterflies. The seeds just came-- carried by birds or the wind.
           
            A sower went out to sow….    
            In the church, we're not in control of the harvest.  That's up to God.  What we are responsible for is sowing gospel seeds.  If we let our anxiety take over, we might keep the seeds in our pocket, or plant them in safe little pots where we can keep a close eye on them or try to control them…  or dig them up every day or two to see if they've sprouted. 
            Here at Littlefield, we've been planted in a neighborhood where we don't get to see dramatic results, in terms of the church growing a lot bigger.  Sometimes it's really hard to trust God for the harvest.  But planting is an act of faith.  We've been planted, here as a result of seeds that were planted earlier, and we're responsible for sowing seeds in faith and hope.
            The seeds I'm talking about sowing have to do with embodying Jesus Christ in our actions and words.  I'm talking about reaching out in respect and friendship, honoring each person we meet, caring enough about them to take the time to get to know them...  finding out what they value… and need… and believe.
            I'm talking about being so filled with the love and peace and joy of Jesus Christ that some people will want to know how we got that way.
           
The parable of the sower and the soils reminds us that we are not in charge of the harvest.  We are called to be faithful disciples of Jesus Christ and to work as co-gardeners with God to sow the seeds of love and righteousness and justice.
            The seeds will land where they land.  Some of the seeds will feed the birds...  and they may end up being planted in some unlikely places!  Some of the seeds fall into the ground.  There in the dark earth, where you can't see and don't know how, they will push up through layers of dirt-- sometimes even through stone or cracks in concrete-- through whatever is in their way. 
            "Some seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain..."
            The good news is that God the gracious gardener is in charge of the growth.  The harvest will come in God’s time.

            Many of us have heard the story of Johnny Appleseed—that legendary frontiersman who walked across Ohio and other states giving out seeds for fruit trees.  Many generations benefitted from Johnny Appleseed’s passion for planting. 
            How different would things have been if Johnny Appleseed was worried about seeing the results of his efforts?  Suppose he didn’t trust the power of the seeds to grow?  Suppose he felt personally responsible for hovering over each and every tree until it was producing fruit?  How many trees would he have been able to plant in his lifetime?
            So it is with our sharing the good news of God’s love.  The resistance to God’s reign of justice, mercy and grace is real and strong. But our faith teaches us that, ultimately, goodness is stronger than evil, life is stronger than death. There will be discouraging times when we don’t see the yield from the seeds we plant. But there will be bursts of amazing, life-giving, abundant growth.

            Our job is to work with God in planting the seed, and then trust that grace happens beyond, through, and despite our efforts to control it or keep it in our back yard.    God can use our efforts to bring forth an abundant harvest—in God’s good time.  The Kingdom will come, on earth as it is in heaven, and we will have the joy of being part of it!              
            Thanks be to God!
Amen!
                                   

The Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
July 16, 2017


[2]Barbara Brown Taylor, Mixed Blessings.  (Susan Hunter Publications, Atlanta, Georgia, 1986), p. 68.



Sunday, May 28, 2017

"Waiting for the Power": A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Acts 1:1-14.




"Waiting for the Power"

Luke 24:44-53; Acts 1:1-14




In churches that follow the liturgical calendar, we’re coming to the end of Eastertide, the season when we focus on celebrating the Resurrection.  The third major festival of the Christian year, the celebration of the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, comes next Sunday.   Before we get to Pentecost, we celebrate the Ascension, and we hear the part of the story that Luke/Acts places between Easter and Pentecost. 
            One part of the story is that Jesus has ascended to glory with God.  The glory of the risen and ascended Christ is good news-- something to celebrate.
            But the other themes in the story invite us to look at the Ascension from a very human perspective, the disciples’ point of view, which is where we stand.   
            Up until now, Jesus has been the chief actor in the gospel drama.      From his birth to his death, it’s Jesus who keeps the story moving. 
In the forty days following the resurrection, the risen Jesus appeared to his followers a number of times and continued to teach them about the kingdom of God. 
            But they were still living under Roman occupation. There were still people who were poor and hungry and marginalized. Things were still not right in the world.  So, when Jesus told his followers to wait in Jerusalem, where they would be baptized by the Holy Spirit, they asked, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom?”
             Jesus answered, “It isn’t for you to know these things. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses.” Then they saw Jesus lifted up, and a cloud, which the Bible uses as a symbol of God’s presence--lifted Jesus out of their sight.  And now he’s gone from their sight.
When Jesus was carried up into heaven, the reality they were facing was that Jesus was no longer a part of their daily life, in the same way he had been before. 
             
            Now what?  What are Jesus’ followers supposed to do?        It would have been hard not to feel anxious and impatient—just as it can be for us.
            There’s so much bad news in the world-- so much fear and anxiety and hatred. Since earlier this past week, our hearts are heavy with the news of precious lives lost: mostly young concert-goers in Manchester, England and a promising young college graduate in Maryland, stabbed to death by a white supremacist.
            In the 24-hour news cycle, we haven’t been hearing much about refugees in the past few months, but a few days ago we heard that more than 30 perished when an overcrowded boat listed while trying to reach Europe from North Africa, and that most of the bodies recovered were toddlers.
            An 18-year-old former neo-Nazi / white supremacist converted to Islam and murdered two of his white supremacist roommates and told the police he killed them because they didn’t respect his Muslim faith.
            We heard about an attack on a caravan of Coptic Christian pilgrims heading to a monastery in Minya, Egypt that killed 28 people.  Friday two men were killed and another injured when they stepped in to protect 2 women from a man who was shouting ethnic and anti-Muslim slurs at them.  This man, too, turned out to be a white supremacist.
            In our nation’s South, there are conflicts over removing statues that celebrate leaders of the Confederacy. Closer to home, we have a controversy over what place a statue of former Dearborn mayor Orville Hubbard should have.
            Concerns have been raised in local cities about justice and due process in detentions deportations of undocumented immigrants and the impact of current policies on their families.
            In our nation’s capital, politicians are debating matters that include who deserves to have enough to eat and adequate, affordable medical coverage, how we will care for the environment, and much more. The litany of losses and pain and struggle is long.
            Do you want to just shout, “How long, Lord?”  “Is this the time you’re going to make things right in the world?  We want to know what the plan is. We want to know now.
            Lord, is this the time?

            Hear what Jesus says: “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set byfor some time for reflection, whether at home or away. It can be an opportunity for us to renew our sense of gratitude for those who have served their country and for the freedoms we enjoy because of that service and sacrifice. It can also be a time for us to renew our sense of commitment to wohis own authority.”    It is not for us to know all the details of the big plan.
            Christ’s charge to them comes with a promise: “You will be baptized with the Holy Spirit...  You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
            Luke tells us that the disciples worshipped the risen and ascended Christ.  They returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the temple blessing God.
            In the verses following the passage we read in Acts, Luke tells how the disciples returned to Jerusalem and went to the upper room where they were staying, where they and certain women were constantly devoting themselves to prayer.  On the day of Pentecost, disciples were gathered together in one place when the power of the Holy Spirit came upon them from on high. 

            The first disciples were called to wait during times of transition--with trust and hope…with eagerness and expectancy.
            This Memorial Day long weekend will bring a variety of parades and other celebrations and
rking for a world that is more just and peaceful.
           
            When the first disciples couldn’t see where the future would lead them, when they couldn’t see where the future would lead them, they remained focused on the drama of God’s salvation story, and worshiped God with great joy.  Their joyful worship as they waited helped to center themselves in God’s gracious, powerful promises

            Do we believe God can use us to transform the world?   Do we believe that we can do all things, through Christ, who strengthens us?      How many of us want to believe these things?       
            I believe God has the power to work miracles, and that God wants to use us to change people’s lives.  But it is not in God’s nature to coerce us.  We have choices.                
           
            In his book, God’s Politics, which a group of us read together some years ago, Jim Wallis talks about “The Critical Choice:  Hope Versus Cynicism.”[1] 
            Wallis says that one of the big struggles of our times is the fundamental choice between cynicism and hope.  The prophets always begin in judgment, in a social critique of the status quo, but they end in hope—that these realities can and will be changed.  This choice between cynicism and hope is ultimately a spiritual choice—one that has enormous political consequences.  He argues for a better religion--  a prophetic faith—the religion of Jesus and the prophets.
            As Wallis says, cynicism can protect you from seeming foolish to believe that things could and will change.  It protects you from disappointment.  It protects you from insecurity, because now you are free to pursue your own security instead of sacrificing it for a social engagement, if you decide that it won’t work anyway. 
            Ultimately, cynicism protects you from commitment.  If things aren’t really going to change, why try so hard to make a difference?... Why take the risks, make the sacrifices, open yourself to the vulnerabilities?  Cynics are finally free just to look after themselves… and pursue their own agendas.
            According to Wallis, the difference between the cynics and the saints is the presence, power, and possibility of hope.  And that is indeed a spiritual and faith issue.  More than just a moral issue, hope is a spiritual and even a religious choice. 
            I agree with Wallis when he says that hope is not a feeling.  It is a decision.  And the decision for hope is based on what you believe at the deepest levels—what your most basic convictions about the world and what the future holds--  all based on your faith.
            We can choose hope, not as a naive wish, but as a choice, with your eyes wide open to the reality of the world.  I believe this hope is grounded in faith…and nurtured in our worship life.
            The Civil Rights movement in the United States grew out of the African-American church… and then others joined in—people who chose to hope in a society in which there is justice for all. We’re still waiting and hoping for the fulfillment of that dream. 

            During the days of Apartheid in South Africa, Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu used to say, “We are prisoners of hope.”  
            I know I’ve shared this story with you before, but it’s powerful and inspiring.  During Apartheid, the South African Security Police came  into the Cathedral of St. George’s during Tutu’s sermon at an ecumenical service.
            Tutu stopped preaching and just looked at the intruders as they lined the walls of the cathedral, wielding writing pads and tape recorders to record whatever he said   and thereby threatening him with consequences for any bold prophetic utterances.
            They had already arrested Tutu and other church leaders just a few weeks before and kept them in jail for several days to make a statement and a point:  religious leaders who take on leadership roles in the struggle against apartheid would be treated like any other opponents of the Pretoria regime.
            After meeting their eyes with his in a steely gaze, Tutu acknowledged their power, saying, “You are powerful,  very powerful.”  But then he reminded them that he served a higher power greater than their political authority:  “I serve a God who cannot be mocked!”
            Then in an extraordinary challenge to political tyranny, Archbishop Desmond Tutu told the representatives of South African apartheid, “Since you have already lost, I invite you today to come and join the winning side!”  He said it with a smile on his face and enticing warmth in his invitation, but with a clarity and a boldness that took everyone’s breath away. 
            The congregation’s response was electric.  The crowd was literally transformed by the bishop’s challenge to power.  The heavily armed security forces that surrounded the cathedral and greatly outnumbered the band of worshipers.  Yet the congregation was moved—empowered—to literally leap to their feet, shouting the praises of God.            They began dancing.  They danced out of the cathedral to meet the awaiting police and military forces of apartheid, who hardly expected a confrontation with dancing worshipers.  Not knowing what else to do, they backed up to provide the space for the people of faith to dance for freedom in the streets of South Africa.
           
            Some time later, a few days before Nelson Mandela was inaugurated as President of South Africa, Wallis remembers wondering, “Who would have ever believed?  And that’s just the point, he says.  We have to believe.
            I know…   I know…   What we see going on in our nation and in the world seems overwhelming.
            And yet, we are called.  Christ has given us a Great Commission:   You shall be my witnesses.
            We have Christ’s promise:  You will receive power…
             
            Like the first disciples, we have the promises of God to cling to, even in times of sorrow and anxiety.   These promises are ours, even at times when it seems that Christ has vanished and the Holy Spirit is not breathing down our necks or in our lives.[2][1]  
            So let us cling to God’s promises and rejoice in them. There will be accomplishments and setbacks, joys and sorrows. In the midst of it, we can trust that God is with us, comforting, celebrating with us, accompanying and strengthening us, even when we can’t see it. We can give thanks that God is preparing us to live with less fear and more generosity, preparing us to look out for the rights of others, and to work for a more merciful and just world.
            Thanks be to God!



[1] Jim Wallis, God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It.”  HarperSanFrancisco, 2006.




[1]I am grateful to Marjorie Menaul for this phrase, which really resonated with me.