"To Love as God Loves"

Genesis 45:3-11; Luke 6:27-38

            Writing at the Presbyterian Mission blog, Rebecca Lister writes about how her son recently finished the requirements for the Boy Scout’s highest honor, Eagle Scout. As part of his final project, he designed and built a Little Free Pantry and a Little Free Library. He and several other Boy Scouts, family members and volunteers helped install them under some shade trees in front of the church.  The pantry has been very successful, as it is often empty. They were thrilled to see that the community was using it.

            Rebecca was surprised to discover that not everyone in their community was as pleased about the Little Free Pantry as they were. She said she talked with several people, both inside and outside of their church, who question the concept of “free.”  “Isn’t that teaching people to be dependent on others for food?” asked one person. “Why shouldn’t they have to work for their food like everybody else?”

            Another person said, “I know I’ve seen people go in and take out food who can afford it. I saw one woman talking on her cellphone as she did it. If she can afford a phone, she can afford food.”

            Rebecca says that she’s always taken aback in conversations like these. She can certainly see their arguments. But deciding who is poor enough to be really poor—really needy—is dangerous business. Someone who looks well-dressed and carrying a cellphone may have just experienced a recent job loss. Perhaps they were impacted by the recent government shut-down or some other emergency. They may have some money, but knowing they can get a few cans of soup to heat up for their family for dinner may be what their weary spirits might need. It isn’t a permanent solution, ideally. And who knows? Maybe that same person who took something out of the pantry when they needed it in rough times will put something back in the pantry in good times.[1]

            As someone said, there will always be needy people and greedy people.  It isn’t our job to decide which is which. That is up to God. It’s our job to do what God asks us to do—and leave the judging to God.

            Jesus doesn’t say, “give to everyone who begs from you—after you find out that they are really poor and deserve it.”  He doesn’t say, “give to everyone who begs from you—but only a little, because they might become dependent.”  He doesn’t say, “give to everyone who begs from you—but only if they say ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’”

            The way the lectionary works, we rarely get to the Seventh Sunday after Epiphany, so we don’t hear this passage from Luke very often.  In this part of Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, Jesus admonishes his hearers to love their enemies and pray for those who persecute you. Be merciful. Don’t judge. Do good to those who hate you.  Offer the other cheek to the person who strikes you in the face. If someone takes something from you, don’t ask for them to return it.

            This text is familiar—but hard!  Some people manage to embody these demanding, seemingly impossible instructions. In the Genesis text we heard Joseph extending grace and mercy and forgiveness to the brothers who betrayed him and sold him away into slavery.

            We all know the Golden Rule embedded in this passage, but how often do we truly live by it?  It can take a lot of effort to control your anger when someone cuts you off in traffic… or fails to act in the way we think they should…or wrongs us in some way.  

            We may long for the unqualified forgiveness, reconciliation, and unearned compassion Joseph shows his brothers. And yet, we struggle with Jesus’ teachings.

            These verses have been manipulated and have left those who are already vulnerable and victimized even further abused. Some preachers over the ages counseled people to stay with abusive spouses using these verses as proof of God’s will to do so. We need to be clear:  Jesus never condones abuse, and he condemns injustice. Jesus insists his followers live by his standard of love and justice, even when dealing with their enemies.

            A lot of people talk about the “Golden Rule,” as if it’s a simple, easy way to live.  But it’s hard to break the cycle of retribution and violence. It’s hard to break a habit of counting the ways someone has wronged us. It’s counter-cultural to practice mutual respect and treat each person with dignity—even those we don’t think deserve it… or those who are our enemies… or those who have wronged us.

           

            Keeping score of wrongs, getting even—that’s what enemies do. Some may secretly hope or plan for bad things to happen to their enemies. Maybe we just avoid and ignore them.  This is how much of the world behaves toward enemies. We go to war with them. We rejoice in their failures and mourn their successes. We try to get people to side with us against the person we believe has wronged us.

Time after time, the Tutsis and then the Hutus were caught in a cycle of retribution and violence in Rwanda. In the last terrible outbreak of violence, loyalty to tribe even outweighed allegiance to religious vows for some clergy.

            In Jerusalem, sacred sites can separate rather than unite. In the land we call “Holy,” the body count grows, and the promise of peace seems impossible.

            In such a world as this, what do we make of the ethics of God’s kingdom—or “kindom”?  We know the words: “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who abuse you. Forgive.”

            These teachings are so often ignored. But we do catch glimpses of how Jesus’ teachings could provide a new way for us to live together: in the United States’ Marshall Plan’s assistance to former enemies following World War II… in the work of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa after the end of Apartheid…in the World Bank’s partial forgiveness of the debts of poor nations at the urging of church coalitions supporting a time of Jubilee.[2]

            Jesus asks, “What credit is it to you if you love someone who loves you, if you do good to someone who does good to you, if you lend to someone who will later lend something to you?” Jesus calls his disciples to stop keeping score, and to trust in the God who changed everything by settling the whole world’s old scores.

            When we gather to worship together, we confess our sins and ask for forgiveness, so we can live into the new life God offers us. But in our individual lives, in our families and in our congregation, there are sometimes unresolved grievances and rifts of long duration. Siblings who haven’t spoken to one another in years. People who hold on to their grievances and can’t seem to get beyond them, even when they cause great pain.

            Reconciliation is always hard to come by, but nothing is impossible for God. In Genesis, we hear that Joseph “keeps score no more.” He breaks from the past and invites his brothers to put the past behind them as well.

            Jesus set the example of active non-violence when he was struck on the face and tormented during his trial. He sets the principle: “Treat others as you would like them to treat you.”

            As followers of Christ, we are called into a new life in which we see things in a completely different way, a life in which we want to behave differently. We are called to look at each person through the eyes of love.

Jesus calls us to love as God loves: “Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate.”

            The good news is that it is God’s very nature to be merciful and loving, even toward those who don’t deserve it. And that includes us.

            Jesus doesn’t tell people to remain victims—but to find new ways of resisting evil. “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you.” This is the ethic that moved Martin Luther King, Jr. to kneel down with many brothers and sisters before water hoses and snarling police dogs.

            Many people thought he was crazy. “Only violence can fight violence,” they said. But the authorities and oppressors didn’t know what to do with this kind of resistance.  When people around the nation turned on their televisions and saw these acts of non-violent resistance, hearts were changed.  Victims were refusing to be victims. Victims were refusing to fight back with violence. Victims were standing up for justice.  This love is not practical—but it can change the world.

             Thanks be to God!

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

February 24, 2019

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[1] Rebecca Lister, “The Needy and the Greedy: What makes us afraid to give freely to the needy?” https://www.presbyterianmission.org/today/2019/02/22/the-b-flat-christian-4/?fbclid=IwAR3JZUZoEj5ve9intx6v2xzEmSgHu6ActyVg76ESEzflKlSwBEh6AH3wku0

[2] Phyllis Kersten, in “Living by the Word” in The Christian Century. https://www.christiancentury.org/article//no-keeping-score

"Reason to Rejoice": A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on the Third Sunday of Advent.

"Reason to Rejoice"

Matthew 11:2-11; Isaiah 35:1019

         The third Sunday of Advent has traditionally been known as Joy Sunday.   That’s why we lit the pink candle today  Yet, as I meditated on the scripture passages for this Sunday,  I remember  how painful a season this can be for many people.   Some people are lonely… some are grieving the loss of a loved one, some are struggling with illness and wondering where God is in the midst of it all.  Some are struggling with depression or anxiety.  Some are trying to maintain their sobriety during a season of parties.  Some are too poor to be a part of the festival of extravagance the merchants would have us believe is what Christmas is all about.   

            We grieve that there’s so much wrong in our nation and in the world.  In the midst of all this, a lot of people may be wondering:  where’s the good news?

            I think when we look around our world, it exposes our brokenness as humans and as a society and our need for a Savior.  We live in a broken world.  We’re still waiting for the kingdom of God, and we yearn for it.  We wait and hope for what we can’t yet see.

            In the gospel lesson we just heard, we hear John beginning to doubt his own message.   This is the same John who recognized Jesus from his mother's womb, leaping with joy when her cousin Mary came to visit.  John, who lived in the desert alone, crying out when anyone approached,  "Prepare the way of the Lord!"   John the Baptizer, who was there at Jesus’ baptism, when heaven opened and the spirit of God descended on Jesus like a dove.     

            So what's happened to John--  that he should suddenly doubt Jesus' identity? "Are you the one who is to come--  or shall we look for another? Are you the one, Jesus?

            John had envisioned a mighty and powerful Messiah, who would sweep away all the wickedness of the world and destroy evil.  The Messiah will set the world straight.  Justice and righteousness will rule the day.  The oppressed will be liberated and the hungry will be fed.  Those who resist and continue to sin will be separated from the righteous like chaff from the wheat.  They'll be swept away and cast into the "unquenchable fire."

            That's what John expected and proclaimed.  That's what drew crowds to hear his message and be baptized.  Then Jesus arrived on the scene.  John stepped aside...  and essentially said,  "Go for it, Jesus!  Bring in the Kingdom!  Wipe out the old age, and bring in the new!"  And nothing happened.

            By this time, Jesus has preached the Sermon on the Mount.  He's healed people possessed by demons and raised Jairus' daughter from the dead.  His ministry has taken root, and a crowd of believers around him is growing.

            But nothing was happening the way John had thought it would.  The Messiah was supposed to change things.  He was supposed to fix it so that the wicked no longer prospered and the righteous people, like himself, were saved. 

            Things weren't going well for John.  He was in prison.           Nothing was happening the way he'd envisioned it.  At one word from the Messiah, the very walls of his prison should come tumbling down.  But far from rescuing John--  Jesus was into more and more trouble himself. Jesus wasn't throwing anybody into unquenchable fire.  He wasn’t wiping out sinners. No.  He was visiting them in their homes, and eating with them!

            So...  John finds himself not living in a new era-- but imprisoned in a very old world dungeon, with a lot of questions and doubts.  Sitting in the darkness of Herod's dungeon, John knew he may not have long to live.  He doesn't want to die still wondering about the Messiah, so he sends word to Jesus.  "Are you the one who is to come?  Or are we to wait for another?" 

            Could it be that John's question is our question today as well? By simple virtue of our being here this morning, we make the statement that we-- like John--  have recognized the Messiah in Jesus.  In our different ways, we're trying to prepare the way of the Lord.  Every week, we come together and confess our faith that Jesus is LORD.  Every week, we search for new, more effective ways to teach and preach and live that truth. 

            Along the way, we've acquired some definite ideas about our Lord.  As students of the Bible...  of tradition...  and of our own experience, we have certain expectations of Jesus and what he will do for us his people--  sooner or later.

            But—if we’re honest with ourselves-- who hasn't had DOUBTS?  Who has never--  in anger, hurt, disappointment, or loss-- asked John's question?   Jesus, are you the one?  Or shall we look for another?   Think about it.  When we look to other things for our joy and excitement and security-- haven't we gone off to look for another?   When other things take priority over worshiping God on Sunday mornings or in our lives—haven’t we gone off to look for another?  Are you the one, Jesus?  Or shall we look for another?

            We turn on the evening news, and sometimes it’s hard not to wonder, Jesus, are you the one--are shall we look for another?

            John was the one who had baptized Jesus a year or two before, but now he’s in prison.  Maybe John is wondering if all the preaching and  baptizing he did out in the wilderness meant anything at all, or whether his work for the kingdom of heaven had been for nothing.  Maybe he’d been wrong about Jesus, and he should see if there’s someone else out there who will make this a better world.  "Are you the one, or should we  look for another?”   John’s question gives voice to our doubts and uncertainty, even in the midst of anticipation.  
            John looked around the world and wonder, “If Jesus is the one, where’s the evidence that there’s a transformation underway?  Doesn’t the world look pretty much the same as it was before Jesus, in terms of idolatry, injustice exploitation, and violence?  It doesn’t look like things are getting better. 
            “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” is a question of longing -- longing for what we deeply hope, longing for promises to be fulfilled, even when it seems impossible.
            Jesus tells John’s friends, “Go back and tell my cousin John that things move in fits and starts, but there are always signs of hope. Sometimes when we aren’t seeing the results we’d hoped for,  when our lives aren’t the way we need or want them to be, we need to look a little differently at kingdom signs.  

            We might want to hand Jesus the ax John talked about, to see him chop down all the trees that don't bear good fruit. That might feel  satisfying to us.   But no-- Jesus sends us back into the wilderness of our lives, with words of love on our lips--  to help somebody carry a load of grief... to feed hungry people,   and give warm hats and gloves to those who need them...   or to bring cookies and carols and holiday cheer to a lonely shut-in.

            They seem like such small efforts.  But they are the tasks we have been given to do, while we wait.   And we have promised to try.

             

            During Advent, we're reminded that we wait for the second and final coming of Christ.  It’s a paradox:  Christ has come.  Christ is here with us.  Christ is yet to come.   But in the meantime, we're given the sight to see glimpses of God's Kingdom breaking in.  A kingdom that comes, not by force,  but by the birth of a child who came to life in a humble little stable, behind an inn.  The Kingdom of God was present in that common, yet extraordinary birth, as God was born as a helpless baby who came to live among us, full of grace and truth, to share our suffering and pain, to die for our sakes on the cross, and to be raised from the dead, conquering sin and death.  The mystery we celebrate at Christmas is the mystery of God-with-us. Emmanuel.  

           

            When Jesus sent word back to John—“the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them”—he wasn’t just cataloguing his previous day’s to-do list.  Nor was he simply quoting Isaiah.[1] 

            Most importantly, Jesus was encouraging John to cultivate an eschatological eyesight, to see past what is yet unfinished in our world in order to catch a glimpse of the Kingdom of God drawing near.

            A few years ago, near the end of the twentieth century, some people in the Presbyterian denomination pulled out their calculators and assessed things from a certain angle and then went public with a startling prediction.  Influenced by all the literature about the decline of the mainline church, they predicted that if present trends continued, Presbyterians would become virtually non-existent sometime in the twenty-first century. 

            They put this prediction in what they thought was a particularly clever way.  They said that, if present trends continued, Presbyterians would become “the Amish of the twenty-first century.”  It was a way of saying that, for all practical purposes, Presbyterians would be marginalized and irrelevant, as if we were horse-and-buggy people—totally out of date and rendered invisible by our irrelevance in a world that had totally eclipsed us. 

            Ted Wardlaw remembers that prediction was made in print and was repeated at any number of church meetings.  Whenever that prediction was voiced—“the Amish of the twenty-first century”—people laughed at how cleverly the thought was put.

            Then, ten years ago, in the fall of 2006, we watched as an Amish community in West Nickel Mines, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania grieved over and buried a group of their own children who had been slaughtered in their one-room school house by a rage-filled man with a gun that he finally turned on himself. 

            In the midst of their grieving, this Amish community paused to send a delegation to reach out in forgiveness and compassion to the widow and family of the one who had slaughtered their children, and even to provide financial support for them.  The world watched in disbelief as they summoned a strength that was impossible, humanly speaking, a strength that helped them deal with the sin and tragedy that had penetrated their world by beholding it all with the right kind of eyesight. 

            We watched as they returned love for evil, as they reached out in healing and redemption.  We watched in awe as they directed our gaze, if we had the eyesight ourselves to see it, toward a light shining in the darkness--  a light that the darkness could not overcome.

            What a witness!   In a world that can be dark and threatening and incomplete and full of terror, would that we can have the right kind of eyesight, as we move further into God’s future.

            On this Third Sunday of Advent, the rose-colored candle reminds us that God invites us into joy.  God offers us hope, trusting that the day is coming when that hope will become reality.

            In the meantime, every time we reach out with love, care, forgiveness, and compassion the Kingdom of God grows a little larger   and is that much closer to being fulfilled. 

            So-- in the meantime, let us look toward the light that shines in the darkness--  the light that darkness does not overcome.

            Come, Lord Jesus!

           

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

December 11, 2016

          

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[1] Isaiah 35:5

"She Has Shown Great Love." A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on Luke 7:36 - 8:3

"She Has Shown Great Love"

Luke 7:36 - 8:3

In the 2003 movie “Luther,” an early scene portrays Martin Luther wrestling with the character and intentions of God.  Luther asks his mentor, an elder monk, “Have you ever dared to think that God is not just?... He [sic] has us born tainted by sin, then He’s angry with us all our lives for our faults, this righteous Judge who damns us, threatening us with the fires of hell!”

“Martin, what is it you seek?” the old monk asks.

“A merciful God! A God whom I can love.  A God who loves me.”[1]

Luke’s story brings Martin Luther’s concerns—and ours-- to the center:  What is the nature of God’s righteousness?  How are we saved from sin and reconciled to God?  Who is Jesus?

Once again, Jesus is in conflict with a religious leader.  A Pharisee named Simon has invited Jesus to dinner, and Jesus is there at the table.  A woman of the city crashes the party.  What causes tension in the story is that she’s a woman… and a sinner, and that she approaches Jesus while he’s at table eating.

 We don’t know her name.  We aren’t told the nature of the woman’s sins. Tradition has remembered this woman as a prostitute, but Luke doesn’t say that.  We just don’t know.

The way Luke tells the story, Simon the Pharisee doesn’t get it.  He’s hypocritical and self-righteous.  He invites Jesus to dinner, but he’s quick to turn against Jesus.  

When Simon sees what the woman does, he mutters to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him and that she is a sinner.” 

Jesus speaks up and says, “Simon, I have something to say to you.”  And then he tells the parable about a creditor and two debtors, and asks him who will love the creditor who forgives the debts more--  the one who owed fifty denarii or the one who owed five hundred denarii.  “I suppose the one for whom he canceled the greater debt,”  Simon says.  Jesus says, “You have judged rightly.” 

Then Jesus says to Simon, “Do you see this woman?  I entered your house.  You gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair.  You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet.  You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.  Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven.  Hence she has shown great love.  But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.”

Then Jesus turns to the woman and says to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

What contrasts Luke shows us in this story!  Here are two religious leaders suddenly in the presence of a sinful woman.  Simon the Pharisee has an understanding of righteousness that causes him to distance himself from her.

The root meaning of the word “Pharisee” is uncertain, but scholars tend to think it probably comes a word that means, “those who are separated.”  In their attempt to stay pure and acceptable, they have separated themselves from the rest of humanity.  The Pharisees were trying to keep all the thousands of laws that were developed to fill in the gaps between the Ten Commandments.  

In contrast, Jesus came proclaiming the good news of God’s gracious love and forgiveness, and teaching that the greatest commandment is the commandment to love God completely and to love other people.

Simon is guarded and stingy with his love.  He is quick to judge Jesus and wants to rebuke him when he doesn’t meet his preconceived expectations.  In the end, Simon is rebuked, while the woman--a sinner—was the perfect hostess and is forgiven her sins.

Simon likes to think of himself as righteous, blameless, so he responds to Jesus as one who has been forgiven little.   He “knew” the woman was a sinner, and he assumes that she has defiled Jesus by touching him.  

In Simon’s economy, righteousness is about calculating worth or worthiness.  But when Jesus came to live among us, full of grace and truth, he revealed what Jill Duffield calls “the messy, glorious gift-economy of God’s love.”[2]

As Jill points out, Jesus knows that many of us operate out of a more “capitalistic mindset” and “don’t get it,” so he tells “a dollars and sense parable.”  So which one of the debtors is more grateful?  The one who was forgiven of the greater debt. 

A few weeks ago I shared a post on Facebook by Mark Wingfield, who’s a Southern  Baptist minister from Texas.[3]   This post on what he is learning about transgender people went viral and was read by more than a million people.  He recently wrote a follow-up blog that details the response he got to his first post. 

Rev. Wingfield writes, “In two weeks’ time, I have exchanged personal correspondence with more than 400 people and have heard the personal stories of people from all over the country.”  He heard from transgender persons, from the parents and friends of transgender persons, from clergy, doctors, teachers, counselors and lots of average people.

He writes, “One transgender woman wrote to tell me her story and signed off with these words: ‘Sincerely, a woman who hopes that God still loves her.’”

One of the most heartbreaking messages Rev. Wingfield received was from a single mom with four kids, including one who is transgender.  This entire family recently was kicked out of their church, and the mother was asking for help in finding another church in her city where they would be accepted.

Another person wrote that, as a youth, he had been a deeply devoted Bible study leader in his church, but was asked not to attend that church anymore after coming out with a non-conforming gender struggle.[4]

Sadly, the church of Jesus Christ is most known today for what we’re against, rather than who God is for.

 “Simon, do you see this woman?”   When Jesus speaks to Simon, it’s as if he says, “If you weren’t so obsessed with your own righteousness and purity, you could be celebrating God’s love and forgiveness as she is. 

Do we see this woman?  The way she throws off cultural expectations and the norms of religious purity rules, the way she gives fully of herself, in an act of love and gratitude and fearless intimacy?

Mark Wingfield says when he wrote his original post about what he’s been learning about transgender persons, he wanted to get beyond headlines.  He wanted to go deeper than bathroom wars.  He observes that parts of the corporate world are trying to learn and trying to do the right thing for their employees.  One of the key phrases being used is, “Bring your whole self to work.”  There’s even a TED Talk on it on Youtube.  The idea is that employees perform better if they can be themselves at work and don’t have to live in fear.  As Wingfield asks, why is corporate America ahead of the church on this? 

Why, indeed?   What do you think?

I agree with those who think that saying, “Bring your whole self to church” would require us to be honest—and not only about gender identity and sexual orientation.  In traditional church culture, we’ve been conditioned to be polite and nice.  We might think it’s dangerous to be our true selves at church—especially if we don’t feel like we fit the image of a perfect Christian. 

For many people, it feels safe to talk about happy things.  But what if we or our children have deviated from the norm?  What if we’ve been unsuccessful, in the world’s eyes?  What if we’ve had struggles with financial insecurity or food insecurity… with depression or anxiety or substance abuse or mental illness… with loneliness… or a failed marriage?   

            “Your sins are forgiven.  Your faith has saved you.  Go in peace.”

            “God so loves the world….”    The world.  That includes all of God’s children.

Too often we miss hearing that the good news is for us.  Some, like Simon, aren’t receptive--  so we miss encountering God’s gracious love and forgiveness in a new way. 

Do you see her?  Jesus asks.  Do you see the way she welcomes me into her heart and life?  Do you see the love, the adoration, the gratitude in her response?

Luke tells us that soon after that dinner party, Jesus went through cities and villages, proclaiming and bring the good news of the kingdom of God.  The twelve were with him, as well as some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities and who provided for them out of their resources.

  The good news is that Jesus reaches out to people who know they’re sinners and to Pharisees and good church people.  Jesus reaches out to you and to me in love, offering a new, abundant life.

God loves you, whoever you are.  

So… what are we going to do with all this love?

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michigan

June 12, 2016

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[1] I’m grateful to Gregory Anderson Love for reminding me of this scene in the movie in his “Theological Perspective” in Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3 (Pentecost and Season after Pentecost). Westminster John Knox Press, 2010,  Kindle Location 509

[2] Jill Duffield, https://pres-outlook.org/2016/06/june-12-2016-11th-sunday-ordinary-time/

[3]Rev Mark Wingfield, at  https://baptistnews.com/article/seven-things-im-learning-about-transgender-persons/

[4] I really appreciate Mark Wingfield’s blog posts and am very indebted in today’s sermon to them.  Mark Wingfield, “Painful lessons from a pastor’s viral transgender post,” May 31, 2016, at https://baptistnews.com/article/painful-lessons-from-a-pastors-viral-transgender-post/