Festal Shout

Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18
A Maskil of Ethan the Ezrahite
1I will sing of your steadfast love, O LORD, forever;
With my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations.
2I declare that your steadfast love is established forever;
your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.
3You said, "I have made a covenant with my chosen one,
I have sworn to my servant David:
4'I will establish your descendants forever,
And build your throne for all generations.''" Selah
15Happy are the people who know the festal shout,
Who walk, O LORD, in the light of your countenance;
16They exult in your name all day long,
And extol your righteousness.
17For you are the glory of their strength;
By your favor our horn is exalted.
18For our shield belongs to the LORD,
Our king to the Holy One of Israel.

This is the Word of the LORD
Thanks be to God

It's been a long week at the Presbyterian Church of Lowell. Last Sunday, volunteers waited for a throng of children to come join us for the Workshop of Wonders Bible School, we threw open our doors at five ready to begin the events that had been in motion for weeks and months before, as we prepared a place for the children who will lead worship for us during the offertory later today.

The parents and grandparents dropped their kids off with us, trusting us to provide a safe environment to entertain their children, and perhaps teach them something important about life in the process. Vacation Bible School isn't just children's ministry, it's also ministry to the adults who care for them. Some of the parents took the opportunity to go out on a date together, tending to their relationships while we tended to their children. Others had a quiet night at home, enjoying the opportunity to be still, an opportunity that young children make rare. I'm sure a few also had details, either at work or at home, that they had shelved in order to spend time with their families, and were able to take them back up knowing that we were taking up their children.

But the volunteers who worked at our Vacation Bible School weren't just free childcare, giving the adults the chance to do grown-up work in the grown-up world. We learned from those children, from their wonder at the amazing Bible stories, and the way they got into the narrative the youth enacted before them. We learned from their excitement as the science experiments showed the wonders of God's created order. We learned from their laughter and playfulness at the recreation station, showcasing the joy that is a sacred part of childhood. We learned from their creativity as they made crafts together, artistically expressing their thoughts and emotions, both simple and profound. We learned from their silliness and rapt attention at the opening and closing assemblies each evening, as they joined with James and Rivet, Marie and Mimi, in exploring the themes of the night through skits and music.

Even as our Volunteers sought to share God with the children, so too the children shared God with us, each generation proclaiming God's love to every other.

"I will sing of your steadfast love, O LORD, forever. With my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations."

The church is one of the few places in our culture where we can interact with people across generations. That's a huge strength. It gives us the perspective to see beyond the anxieties of our own lives. We can look with a child's wonder and discern with an elder's wisdom on the same action.

Crossing generations gives us the vision to reach beyond our own experience and testify to how God has acted throughout our history and into our future. We can say together that Our God is the one who works wonders. We can tell the stories of faith together, reading from a script passed down to us through the generations, yet bringing our own interpretation as we enact the stories for one another, telling and retelling the same ancient truths in new ways. God's truths are eternal, and we share them through our stories about God's steadfast love. This shifting world cannot move us out of the reach of God's loving kindness.

"I declare that your steadfast love is established forever; your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens."

Our Psalm reading this morning comes from a specific context, and is littered with references to the world in which its writer lived. It emerged as a response to crisis within the people of God, when they were losing sight of who they were and whose they were.

Ethan the Ezrahite, to whom this Psalm is attributed, had probably seen the Babylonian exile, when the Jewish people who had been deported after Babylon conquered Judah were finally able to come home again. It gave the people a chance to rebuild their lives and their culture, which had been utterly shattered when the temple of Jerusalem was destroyed by the invading armies. We simply don't have an analogue for what that would be like in our own history. The heartbreak in the stories written during that time is simply inaccessible to most of us. Ethan the Ezrahite wrote this psalm as the people were finally allowed to return home.

This Psalm also references the line of King David. Just about everyone with any contact with Judeo-Christian culture recognizes that reference. He's the one who killed Goliath,  became king after Saul, and had the affair with Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite.

This Psalm, by invoking that dynastic imagery, by remembering God's covenant with king David, is reestablishing the commitment to living by God's promise. The promise is not a political reality, but a liturgical, visionary, ideological hope which continued to shape the life and imagination of Israel.

God promised David that his kingdom would not end. That's part of what made the babylonian captivity so difficult for those who endured it. It wasn't just a national tragedy, it was a religious one as well. David's dynasty had failed, and with it God's promise seemed to evaporate. Without the promise of God, nothing about the Israelite national identity made sense anymore.

"You said, 'I have made a covenant with my chosen one, I have sworn to my servant David:'"

And yet in spite of the missing king from David's line, the tone of this psalm is still joyful. Perhaps the vanity of a powerful empire is lost, but our ability to praise our God is not. Because we live in a quickly changing world and there's certainly a lot for us to fear. But we have the truth of the gospel to support us, and the testimony of innumerable generation of our spiritual ancestors to hold us up.

The truth is that God is active in the world, God intervenes in our lives, even when we cannot see it. Sometimes we will see God's action only in hindsight, when we reflect on our lives and look for God's hands amid our history. Other times we will never know what it is God has done for us, because how can we know everything. Our lives are full of overlooked blessings and turns that could have gone wrong, we could not possibly keep track of all of them. But the covenant, though it may change forms as it did for the Israelites and God's covenant with David, is still strong. When God made a promise the people of God knew that they could count on God to keep it, even if they didn't understand how it would take place. God is faithful even when we don't see it. God's people are ensured a future even while exiled in Babylon.

"'I will establish your descendants forever, and build your throne for all generations.' Selah"

As American Christians, we've got plenty of reasons to worry about the future. American culture has shifted away from the church, and we can no longer enjoy the privilege of social dominance like we once did. As a result, membership is declining across our denomination, youth are aging out of the programs we designed for them and they aren't coming back the way their parents did. People generally don't take the time to memorize scripture or the catechism anymore. Religiously affiliated schools and charities are shifting their identity to one that is more easily marketable so that they can continue the work that is important to them. Our confidence in the economy has been shaken and still has not recovered. Many of our political leaders seem more interested in gathering their own power than serving the people. One can understand how the American Church might be having a bit of an identity crisis as we try to grab any program or idea that we can rely on.

Israel, likewise, was having an identity crisis. The threefold destruction of their monarchy, their temple, and their city left a nationwide case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in its wake. They had to learn how to function when their homes had been destroyed with no chance to rebuild, much less the decline of their holy city. They had to learn how to be a people of God when temple worship was no longer even possible, much less the center of their culture. They had to learn how to affirm that God was their sovereign when their ruler was an occupying foreign power, much less of the house and lineage of David. Their whole identity as a covenant people was at stake, and the people of Judah were struggling to hold on to who they were and whose they were.

But none of those problems were enough to stifle Ethan the Ezrahite's Festal Shout. This long psalm walks through much of the pain of the Babylonian Exile in its later verses, giving language to the experience of an Israel that still didn't understand what God was doing in the world. But it begins with a celebrate of God's greatness, reminding them and us of what God had promised, and that those promises were trustworthy, even if we couldn't understand how they could possibly still be true. Those who read this Psalm have seen God's face in the promises he made to their ancestors. God's promises brought a little light to the darkness of their exile.

"Happy are the people who know the festal shout. Who walk, O LORD, in the light of your countenance."

There are plenty of reasons to celebrate at the Presbyterian Church of Lowell, plenty of reasons to be proud of our church family. We just finished a successful week of Bible school. Our average weekly worship attendance is up. We are struggling through complex issues together instead of cutting one another off when we disagree. Our choir is faithful, talented, and hard-working, so is our staff. Our church feeds the hungry through our Chicken Pot Pie sales, and we provide funds so that others outside our community can be fed by participating in and financially supporting the mission work of the Presbytery.

Even though we have much to celebrate here at the Presbyterian Church of Lowell, even though we have reasons to be pleased with ourselves, none of those are why we show up for worship each week. None of those raise a Festal Shout. All the little markers of our growth and health bring on a grateful smile, but songs of praise are more deeply rooted.

For shout's of praise, we have God's promises, just as Ethan the Ezrahite and the Judeans returning from exile had. Those promises are real even when we cannot see them. We join the people who sing to God from a ruined temple in a city with half-built walls. We praise God with the Israelites who remember being forced from the homes and resettling in a foreign land. They can praise God because they know that God is active, and that God's promises are sure. So even while we struggle, we are filled with the richness of God's grace.

"They exult in your name all day long, and extol your righteousness."

Israel's monarchy had been crushed by the Babylonian empire, yet they still hoped for a king like David, who would restore Israel to its former glory. But God, in my experience, is not as concerned with the preservation of national interests. God is interested in creating relationships out of steadfast love and faithfulness with God's people. So the king who is a descendant of David is not a political leader who re-establishes the monarchy. He's the son of a carpenter who restores all of humanity to its former relationship with God. Because our exile was not at the hands of a conquering nation, it's of our own making as we bear the consequences of our limited humanity.

But even in our brokenness, we know the Festal Shout, Jesus is Lord. We know that God is our protector, and even though that does not guarantee wealth or power, or the other ways we measure success in this world, we know that we are cared for. God is faithful even when we don't see it. Our testimony is not based on our own abilities or talents, our talents and abilities testify to the strength of our God.

"For you are the glory of their strength; By your favor our horn is exalted."

It's been a long history for the Presbyterian Church of Lowell, for we have inherited the stories of the Israelites and Judeans. We have just finished a week of Bible School, where we shared the stories of our faith with one another, that our God is the one who works wonders. We know that God is faithful, even when we don't see it.  For we know the Festal Shout that Jesus Christ is the King of Heaven. We know that in life and in death we belong to God. Even when we think we are losing ourselves, God is still our defender and the one whom we serve.



"For our shield belongs to the LORD, our king to the Holy One of Israel."

The Words God Gave Us

John 17:1-11

1When Jesus finished saying these things, he looked up to heaven and said, "Father, the time has come. Glorify your son, so that the Son can glorify you. 2You gave him authority over everyone so that he could give eternal life to everyone you gave him. 3This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent. 4I have glorified you on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do. 5Now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I shared with you before the world was created.

6I have revealed your name to the people you gave me from this world. They were yours and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. 7Now they know that everything you have given me comes from you. 8This is because I gave them the words that you gave me, and they received them. They truly understood that I came from you, and they believed that you sent me.

9I'm praying for them. I'm not praying for the world but for those you gave me, because they are yours. 10Everything that is mine is yours and everything that is yours is mine; I have been glorified in them 11I'm no longer in the world, but they are in the world, even as I'm coming to you, Holy Father, watch over them in your name, the name you gave me, that they will be one just as we are one.

This is the Word of the Lord
Thanks be to God

This is not a sermon. This is a very intimate moment between God the Father and God the Son into which the gospel writer drops us. Within the narrative progression of John's gospel, this prayer precedes Jesus's arrest in the garden, and follows a long series of teachings that began with Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.

Within the progression of our church calendar this is the final Sunday of the Easter Season, on which we celebrate Christ's ascension into heaven, to sitteth on the right hand of God the Father almighty. Knowing that he is returning to the Father, Jesus prays for the disciples at the end of his earthly ministry.

I am at the opposite end of my ministry timeline. I'm a first call pastor on his first Sunday. Sure I've completed all the appropriate coursework and crossed the stage, diploma in hand, I've even been approved by all the requisite committees and subcommittees. I have been affirmed in my calling and in being qualified. This is not my first time in this pulpit, I've been here as a supply preacher a couple of times over the last year. But this is my first service in this new relationship that we have together.

God could have put me in this pulpit at a time when we celebrate one of the great call narratives from scripture: Young Samuel saying "Yes Lord?" Isaiah answering "Here I am, send me." David being sought out in the field and anointed as the next leader in Israel. I'd have been thrilled to introduce myself alongside the call of the first disciples, leaving behind our nets and following Jesus, or Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus. But that's not what God had in mind.

God, in his wisdom, decided that I should begin here on a Sunday when we celebrate the story of Jesus's departure from being a physical presence among us. God, this morning, is present in the intimate prayer between Jesus and his Father, where we disciples fade into the background so that we can catch a glimpse of who Jesus is when he's not healing or teaching those whom the Father has put in his path.

So this is not a sermon, This is God the Son is speaking to God the Father, not to us. If this were a film, the camera would be centered on Jesus as he looks up to heaven. We'd be the slightly out-of-focus bystanders, wondering at all we've heard and seen over this easter season. We are imagining what may happen in the next chapter, after Jesus has returned to the father.

Our imaginations are fed by his prayer, "Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, so that the Son can glorify you. You gave him authority over everyone so that he could give eternal life to everyone you gave him." Soon Jesus will be lifted up in a way that shows us not only himself, but reveals the face of God as well. Jesus gives our imaginations a picture of eternal life as well, "This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent." It's not a far-off possibility, it's a present reality where we are able to encounter and know God.

Once we have come to know the only true God and Jesus Christ whom God has sent to be among us, how can we not live a life that is free from all the baggage that burdens us in our lives. God sent Jesus to free us from that weight, to break the power of sin and death for all time! "This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent." Eternal life is present today. The sacrifice has been made, the victory has been won, we can act knowing that our baggage does not define us, our relationship with God does!

Today is not a day to celebrate that we have a new minister or that I have a church. It's a day to celebrate God. It's that eternal life thing: eternal life is not to know that our church is growing and has all the best programs. It's not to know that we have a context in which is do ministry. It's not that we have worked so long to come to this point. Eternal life is to know the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom God sent. Our celebrations are all conducted in knowledge that God intervenes in the world and has called us to be a community united in Christ. We celebrate because our chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.

So I'm grateful, and indeed I celebrate the opportunity to begin my ministry because I know that God is at work in this community, and I am honored to be a part of both the work and the community. I am joyful because I enjoy God, and by extension I shall also enjoy the ministry to which God has called us. For me, that ministry begins with getting to know what God is already doing in our midst, and in getting to know my fellow disciples here: the people who are the Presbyterian Church of Lowell.

Jesus is praying on behalf of the disciples, whom he has gotten to know very well over the course of his earthly ministry. He prays in verse seven "I gave them the words that you gave me, and the received them." We are just beginning to get to know one another. You've seen a brochure about me, and maybe talked with me once or twice around the church this week, but we're just embarking on this journey. God has put us on this journey together for a purpose, even though the destination has already been chosen on our behalf. Just as the disciples were God's and God gave them to Jesus, so God gives us each other because none of us will get very far by ourselves.

God has given us each other because we need each other. We have been called together for a purpose. I firmly believe that the reason we're on this journey together is that God has given us a word to give each other. Jesus gave the disciples the words that God gave him, and we, as disciples, have received them. Now it's our task to share them with each other, and with the rest of the world. For as our Acts passage read this morning, we "will be [Christ's] witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea, and Samaria, and to the end of the Earth."

Jesus, on the other hand, states outright that "I'm praying for [the disciples]. I'm not praying for the world but for those you gave me, because they are yours." Jesus's prayer is not some over-arching universal blessing, he knows God is taking care of all creation in the crucifixion and resurrection. For the ascension, he knows that the transition will be difficult for his followers, so he prays for them specifically. Even after they negotiate that shift, they won't be able to sit back and rest, the Holy Spirit is coming at Pentecost to compel them outward. They're moving from difficult transition to being equipped to work on behalf of the kingdom of God.

 I think it's a fair leap to say that Jesus wasn't just talking about his followers who were in the room, but all of God's people in every time and place. You know, like us. I've done a lot of research over the last several months into the history and character of our community. Even in the starkness of presbytery and church records one can see that this church has not had an easy road over the last few years.

My own path is also not without it's potholes. My final year at seminary my wife and I maintained a long-distance marriage. We were convinced that each of us were called to the work we were doing, she at Kings Mountain and I at Columbia Theological Seminary and Saint Andrews. We were also certain that we were called to be with one another within the covenant of marriage, which only made balancing our relationship and careers that much more difficult. We moved forward in faith that our distance was a temporary status, and that the God who called us to be together would provide the opportunity for us to labor close enough that we could live together.

A little over a year ago, I finished my coursework at Columbia, and moved back in with my spouse. It was, and still is, wonderful to live with the person whom I love, even though it meant leaving behind the work that I found important and fulfilling. I made a little money with supply preaching, and eventually found an unpaid internship at a hospital which gave me opportunity to develop my pastoral care abilities, but it didn't give me the opportunity for worship leadership that is part of my identity.

Now I'm here, not in some generic church to deliver a substitute sermon, but with the people whom God has given me. And this church now has a Preacher whom God has given you. God has built a community here, uniting two churches almost 67 years ago to become the Presbyterian Church of Lowell. I'm not going to try and remake this church in my image, or try and shape the community into what I think it should be. God is already present and active here. God has given you a word to say to me, and I want to pay attention to what God is saying to me through this community.

This is a sermon, an act of proclamation and testimony in public worship. This sermon, and the others that will follow over the course of our journey together, is one way in which I will share the words God gives me. So too will be my Pastoral Counseling and my involvement in Christian Education. I will find ways to share the words God gives me through mission and outreach, through service to the larger church, and even through administrative work.

This congregation also has words God gave y'all, and I want to hear them. It's not just feedback like "Enjoyed your message, preacher," although I am eager for that feedback. It's also the ways that your lives reflect how God is active in your lives. The Word of God is present in more languages than are spoken or written, and the name of God, which Jesus has given us, is written on our hearts. Let us, therefore, find every expression we can manage to share the words God gave us with one another, and with the world.

Irrespective of the difficult roads that have shaped our recent history, separately and together, God is always working on us and through us. I'm not here to try and reform the church or "save" it, we've already got a savior, and this is the last Sunday of his earthly ministry.

But it's the first Sunday where we share a ministry together. We will take the prayer Jesus lifted on our behalf and use it to propel ourselves forward. We will share the words God gave us with each other so that we can better know the God who is in our midst. From there we shall go from Jerusalem, to all of Judea, to Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

Witnessing to the ends of the earth is a big task, too big for even the giants of faith lifted up in other Bible stories. The only human action that reached that far is when a man named Jesus of Nazareth was lifted up on the cross to die, and then rose from the dead. Of course, that one was also God's action.

So for these big tasks, when we cannot make the breadth of the journey alone, God gives us each other. God has given us the words to encourage and instruct one another, and our hope is that we will be one, just as God the Father and God the Son are one.

My prayer, therefore, at the beginning of our ministry together that we are able to share with each other the words God gave us, and that we will remain united in Christ even as we share our diverse perspective of how God is at work in our midst.

Bring a Towel

Hebrews 11:29-12:1

29By faith [the Israelites] crossed the Red Sea as if they were on dry land, but when the Egyptians tried it, they were drowned.

30By faith Jericho’s walls fell after the people marched around them for seven days.

31By faith Rahab the prostitute wasn’t killed with the disobedient because she welcomed the spies in peace.

32What more can I say? I would run out of time if I told you about Gideon, Barak, Sampson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, and the prophets. 33Through faith they conquered kingdoms, brought about justice, realized promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34put out raging fires, escaped from the edge of the sword, found strength in weakness, were mighty in war, and routed foreign armies. 35Women received back their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured and refused to be released so they could gain a better resurrection.

36But others experienced public shame by being taunted and whipped; they were even put in chains and in prison. 37They were stoned to death, they were cut in two, and they died by being murdered with swords. They went around wearing the skins of sheep and goats, needy, oppressed, and mistreated. 38The world didn’t deserve them. They wandered in deserts, mountains, caves, and holes in the ground.

39All these people didn’t receive what was promised, though they were given approval for their faith. 40God provided something better for us so they wouldn’t be made perfect without us.

12:1So then let’s also run the race that is laid out in front of us, since we have such a great cloud of witnesses surrounding us. Let’s throw off any extra baggage, get rid of the sin that trips us up, 2and fix our eyes on Jesus, faith’s pioneer and perfecter. He endured the cross, ignoring the shame, for the sake of the joy that was laid out in front of him, and sat down at the right side of God’s throne.

This is the Word of the Lord
Thanks be to God

When I was in high school, every August meant the same thing: Lawn mowers on the football field, lines being carefully measured and painted on a practice field. It meant hours assigning uniforms and making sure that every piece of equipment was in top shape, ready for the first game of the season. It meant drilling and fundamentals and practice after practice. Each August of my tenure at Freedom High School was the beginning of another season in the Marching Band.

Each hot August afternoon was spent on the lumpy practice field in the nearby park as we learned the show we would perform at home games and band competitions. 140 of my closest friends and I would march around in the 90 degree weather while the drum majors and band directors called out commands. We stood at attention while mosquitoes and gnats ate us alive. And when the first year marchers asked us why we bothered with all this unpleasantness, we pointed toward an experience they didn't know yet, and told them to trust us. It was all worth it.

We pointed to the moment at the first home game after we marched onto the field and were called to attention, after the drum major counted us in for our opening number. We pointed to the moment after the thousands of precise steps, after the hundreds of measures of music. We pointed to the instant we finished our last note and brought our instruments down together, when we could hear our last chord reverberate off the brick stands as the applause and cheers of the fans mingled with and overcame it.

At that moment, we are breathless, exhausted, and overcome with joy because we have accomplished something together that none of us could do alone. We have to rely on each other to get through the show, to play the right notes, to watch our neighbors and keep our lines straight. The only way to get through the show and for it to be good, is for us to trust and rely on each other.

Because no matter how talented an individual band member is, they cannot do it all. We need the great crowd of musicians all around us to bring forth that wall of sound that makes the emotional impact of the music so powerful.

In my experience, when we talk about the gifts God has given us, we're talking about the gifts each individual in the group has. God has given you the ability to turn raw materials into a sound and solid structure. God has given you the resources to provide employment for others. God has given you the talent to play a musical instrument. God has given me words that I may speak.

Those are certainly all true, and worth valuing in ourselves. However, the kingdom of heaven is not a bunch of individuals all praising God in whatever way pleases them. It's a community that gathers around a single table. The Kingdom of Heaven is not a bunch of performers all waiting their turn on the stage, it's a dinner party sitting in stunned silence with all eyes fixed on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who has told us that this is my body, broken for you.

The greatest gift God has given us is himself, as Jesus Christ. The second greatest gift God has given us is each other: the great cloud of witnesses surrounding us. United  Presbyterian Church is not a building in which individuals gather to be spiritually entertained each week. United Presbyterian Church is a community that shares a history that goes all the way back to the Israelites crossing the Red Sea. It is a community based on faith in the one who endured the cross, ignoring the shame, for the sake of the joy that was laid out in front of him, and sat down at the right side of God's throne.


We often use "belief" and "faith" nearly interchangeably. We start our Affirmation of Faith with "I believe." There's just a tiny difference between the meaning of the two words. There's a significant difference between "I believe it will rain this afternoon" and "I have faith it will rain.

Christianity is not about knowing the right answers or even believing the correct doctrine. Belief is a thought, often a dearly held one. But faith is something more. Faith begets action.

Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson said on Twitter a few months ago that "The good thing about Science is that it's true whether or not you believe in it" If that's not a statement of faith, I don't know what is.

We can spend all day debating the merits of that faith, or the accuracy of its target, but that tweet reflects a faith in the scientific method to discover truth and improve the lives of humanity, and Dr. Tyson has dedicated his life to its service. His faith in science has compelled him to participate in that process.

Our faith, however, is not in our own ability to solve problems, or that greater knowledge will give us greater abilities. Our faith is in the God who is the source of all our gifts. Who intervenes in the lives of his people, who is the way and the truth and the light, whether or not you believe in it. This is our faith, and that of the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us.

By faith they crossed the Red Sea as if they were on dry land. Through faith they conquered kingdoms, brought about justice, realized promises, shut the mouths of lions,   put out raging fires, escaped from the edge of the sword, found strength in weakness, were mighty in ware, and routed foreign armies.

This history of great deeds is included so that we might know that we have a mighty shared history that spans nations and centuries, all based on faith in the living LORD our God.

These are great heroes through whom God worked great wonders because of their faith. However, faith does not always make for an easy road. It doesn't promise to fix all our problems, and it doesn't always soften the blow of what falls on our path.

Others experienced public shame by being taunted and whipped; they were even put in chains and in prison. They were stoned to death, they were cut in two. They went around wearing skins of sheep and goats, needy, oppressed, and mistreated. The world didn't deserve them.

I'm currently working as a Chaplain Extern at Spartanburg Regional Hospital, and yesterday a tear-stained face told me that "God doesn't give you more than you can handle, but sometimes I feel like I can't handle it, and sometimes I feel like I don't want to." I am certain that she is not the only person who feels that way.

There are people who are suffering from overwhelming burdens. To ask them to carry them alone is to abandon our call to love them. The suffering that many of our brothers and sisters endure is not what God intended for them. It breaks God's heart to see his children suffer in this way. But the suffering is not the end of their story, because our God takes that pain and shame on himself. All these people didn't receive what was promised, though they were given approval for their faith.

God provided something better for us so that they wouldn't be made perfect without us. While we may find ourselves given more than we can handle, I promise you that it is not more than God can handle. Jesus endured the cross, ignoring the shame, for the sake of the joy that was laid out in front of him.

That joy is the kingdom of heaven made real. It's the joy of a family playing a game together where each one of them has a chance for their particular talents to shine through, laughing together and knowing that the game would be less fun if one of them were absent. It's the joy of a long-carried burden being taken up by a loving community of faith. It's the joy of our faith, perfected at last in the resurrection of that great shepherd of the sheep: our Lord Jesus Christ, who took a towel and wrapped it around his waist, and washed his disciple's feet.

The British Science-Fiction author Douglas Adams writes in The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy on the subject of towels. He writes "a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a [non-hitch hiker] discovers that a hitch hiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, face flannel, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the [non-hitch hiker] will then happily lend the hitch hiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitch hiker might accidentally have "lost".

A towel is a simple thing, just a bit of woven cloth. In Adams's novel, knowing where one's towel is shows that you've really got your life together. It's a symbol of a life of adventure. For us, it's as symbol that we serve one another, it's an affirmation that we do not have our lives together, but that God keeps us together anyway. God gives us each other, and we love and serve one another because we have such a great cloud of witnesses surrounding us.

Because we are not meant to run the race that is laid out for us on our own. It is not God's intention that we push our way to the front of the crowd so that we can be first through the gate. It is not God's intention that we go through our lives relying only on ourselves, the perfect self-made person, a pioneer in her field, a perfecter of his technique.

It is God's intention that we go through our lives loving God with our whole selves, and loving our neighbors as ourselves, and fix our eyes on Jesus, faith's pioneer and perfecter.

I cannot do it by myself, and neither can you. There are gifts I do not have, things I do not know. But God has given us each other, so that we don't have to do everything. Though none of us have every gift we will need, each of us does have some gift to offer. We are guided by the Spirit to be a people of God, not just a collection of Godly persons. By faith we are drawn together to be a great cloud of witnesses, sharing in the joyful work of the one who sat down at the right side of God's throne.

Amen

Together in the Storm

Together in the Storm from Joseph Taber on Vimeo.

Mark 4:35-41

³⁵Later that day, when evening came, Jesus said to them, “Let’s cross over to the other side of the lake.” ³⁶They left the crowd and took him in the boat just as he was. Other boats followed along.

³⁷Gale-force winds arose, and waves crashed against the boat so that the boat was swamped. ³⁸But Jesus was in the rear of the boat, sleeping on a pillow. They woke him up and said, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning?”

³⁹He got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, “Silence! Be still!” The wind settled down and there was a great calm. ⁴⁰Jesus asked them, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?”

⁴¹Overcome with awe, they said to each other, “Who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him!”

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God.

It’s strange to talk about storms when it’s sunny outside. I can reach back to when I was in youth group and picture a day on the boat out on Lake James, near where I grew up. Picturing myself on a boat is no problem. Dave and Morgan can show you pictures of what the sea of Galilee looks like, so I can imagine being there, but it’s strange to think about a sky darkening, violent winds, torrents of rain and flashes of lightning when we look outside our windows at see birds singing, a lazy haze over the parking lot, and great helping of sunshine.

It’s strange to talk about storms when it’s sunny outside.

We’ve all certainly sat through the kind of great thunderstorm of which Mark speaks in this text, they’re a humbling display of the powers of nature, a place where one sees the hand of God in the majesty of creation.

But outside, it’s a bright sunny day with a high of 93 degrees, and man is it humid. But it doesn’t even really look like rain...

On a day like today it’s easy to keep this story of boats and storms out at arms length, to put it in a particular place in history and let it stay there, I have no doubt that Jesus and his followers sailed into some severe weather that evening on the sea of Galilee. But it’s strange to talk about storms when it’s sunny outside.

We can join Jesus in his Sunday afternoon nap, this story takes place after he’s preached a series of parables, and many preachers will tell you that the Sunday afternoon nap is one of the greatest gifts God has given us in this world, and on this lazy sunny day, we can curl up on a pillow for a great nap, but this storm business just doesn’t fit when it’s sunny outside.

Unless you’re dealing with another kind of storm in your own life. Not the kind of storm they tell you about on the news, where a nice suit and a smiling face report facts and describe computer models, but rather the kind of storm we put on our motivational posters, where it’s just a symbol for all the problems we’ve internalized. The storm has become a cliche, unless you’re in the middle of it.

I wonder if the disciples would have told this story to the people they met after Jesus’s earthly ministry ended. I wonder if they would tell it to the head of household who’s finances have dried up and he isn’t sure how he can provide for his family anymore. I wonder if they would tell this story to the mother holding her sick child. I wonder if they would tell it to the student who felt overwhelmed by all his responsibilities. I wonder if they would tell this story to the teenager who was sure she had disappointed her parents, and wasn’t sure if they would still accept her. I wonder if they told this story to the community in crisis, trying to decide how it would maintain its identity in the face of a world that is changing so quickly, or not quickly enough. I wonder what problems we would lift up that would inspire them to tell this story once again...I wonder...

Because when that’s the kind of storm you’re dealing with, then it’s the sunny day that doesn’t fit anymore, and it’s strange to be out in the sun when your storms are so great that your boat is swamped. When you’re in the storm, it doesn’t matter what the weather is like, you don’t want to have that Sunday afternoon nap on the pillow next to Jesus, you want this man to get up and help keep the boat from sinking.

We can echo the disciples voices: “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re drowning?” Teacher, we know that you’re still present, we know you’re right here in the boat with us. The wisdom of your parables is still ringing in our ears, even though we don’t yet fully understand. You speak and we struggle to hear it over the sounds of the thunder. We want to stand beside you, but the waves are crashing over the sides of the boat and our feet will not stay under us. Why do you choose now to be silent, sleeping in the midst of a storm that is more than we can bear. We need your instruction now, tell us what to do! You’ve told us how to handle our faith, now how do we handle this boat in the midst of a storm?

There’s a saying, “We’re all in the same boat.” It’s meant to convey that we all struggle through things together, but it also removes the particularity of the things with which we are struggling. I don’t know that I buy that the single mother working two jobs has the same struggle as the young man who is targeted by online bullying. The grandfather who struggles to find a place in a world where he and his closest friends are seeing the decline of their minds and bodies is going through something different than the young woman wondering if perhaps she does not love in the same way her friends do.

Perhaps we are not in the same boat. A congregation as diverse as this one and a church as diverse as the PC(USA) is full of people who see the world differently and interpret what they see based on different values. It’s tempting to think that we’re the only ones who are having to deal with all this mess, that somehow no one else can feel the same as we are feeling. No one else will have to face the problems we have. Especially in a world where the expectation is that one must have all the answers, one must have a handle on all of one’s problems, one must not show any kind of weakness or dependence on others. It’s as though it’s alright to ask for help if and only if you don’t need it.

It’s tempting to feel like we are alone out there in our own little boat, facing an impossible storm, especially when it’s sunny outside, and we feel like nothing can bring us back from our self-imposed separation from those we want to love, whom we want to love us. Perhaps we are not in the same boat. But we’re not brought together by some wooden fishing vessel. Our diverse particular little boats are united by Christ, whom we have followed out onto this sea, and into this storm.

And when our particular boats get swamped, Like the disciples in our scripture lesson, we only know that our master seems to be asleep in the back, either unaware or uncaring that this storm into which we’ve sailed is about to end us, and it’s tempting to think that our boats are either in the worst shape or are in the worst part of the storm, and we’ve got to somehow get by on our own.

But when we left the crowd and took God in the boat just as he was, other boats followed along. They heard the same teaching, they’ve seen the same wonders, and though their boats are different, we know that they’re out there, struggling across the stormy sea of Galilee as well, even though they cannot see our boat or be a part of our crew, we can know that no matter what the storm looks like to them, they are crying out to God just as we are: “Lord, don’t you care that we’re drowning?”

I’ve always pictured Jesus, hearing this question in his own boat, groggily getting up, calming the storm, somewhat grumpily saying to his disciples, “Why are you frightened? Don’t you have faith yet?” And immediately going back to his pillow and resuming his great nap.

But Jesus was only riding in one of the boats, the other boats wouldn’t have seen everything that happened. As the wind settled down and a great calm came over the lake, they would have looked at one another, then to the other boats, perhaps just in time to catch a glimpse of Jesus turning toward his disciples, maybe they were close enough to hear what he said to them, maybe they were far enough away to recognize who it had to be, that even the wind and the sea obey him. We don’t get that part of the story.

But we can infer that once they crossed the lake they all reached the same shore, and they mingled with the other crews, and each told their own part of the story, each shared their particular experience, and each saw Jesus through the eyes of those around them.

Although we’re in different boats, we’re all in the same storm. It looks different to each of us, and we experience and understand it differently, but more important than that diverse commonality is that we all see Christ’s hands calming that storm, and bringing us safely to the other side, irrespective of our own fears and faiths, our Lord goes through the great storm with us, and through the great calm after it. We see this Jesus differently, just as we saw the storm differently.

This week begins our three week series of exploring what the Bible says about Love, Marriage, and Sex. We will undoubtably find ourselves in different places on a number of issues these weeks, but we will come together all the same, listening to the voice of the Holy Spirit to surprise us in the midst of our disagreement. We cannot stop listening just because we disagree with one another, because that would refute the power of Christ to bring our little boats together, and to hold them safely as we find different ways of navigating across this sea.

We may not be in the same boat, but we are united in Christ, and our comfort in the storm is that we are not alone even while we are drowning. It’s strange talk about storms when it’s sunny outside, but it’s not the weather than unites us. It’s strange to talk about how sunny it is outside in the midst our internalized turmoil, but the storm cannot pull us apart. We know that our timid faith, such as it is, is in the Christ who holds us all together, no matter what boat we’ve put ourselves in, and no storm can shake our inmost calm while to that great rock we are clinging.

Prayer: Great God, we are in a time when it is easy to put ourselves into categories of for and against, of right and wrong. We live in a world that teaches us to order ourselves according to those with whom we agree, but you taught us that in Christ there is no Jew nor Greek, male or female, slave or free. Our boats are different, but your unifying love for us remains constant. Give us the strength to remember that we are your people, and though we’d rather all of this would settle down, living in the storms is where we can see that even the wind and the sea obey you. Help us to remember that your voice speaks amid the chaos, and that we will reach the shore together, not as identical people, but as a people united in your relentlessly transformative love. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

Abraham, Fear and Faith (Genesis 15 and Romans 4)

Genesis 15:1-8

1After these events, the LORD’s word came to Abram in a vision, “Don’t be afraid, Abram. I am your protector. Your reward will be very great.”

2But Abram said, “LORD God, what can you possible give me, since I have no children? The head of my household is Eliezer, a man from Damascus.” 3He continued, “Since you haven’t given me any children, the head of my household will be my heir.”

4The LORD’s word came immediately to him, “This man will not be your heir. Your heir will definitely be your very own biological child.” 5Then he brought Abram outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars if you think you can count them.” The LORD continued, “This is how many children you will have.” 6Abram had faith in the LORD, and it was credited to him as righteousness.

7The LORD said to Abram, “I am the LORD, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as your possession.” 8But Abram said, “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually possess it?”

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

Romans 4:13-25

13The promise to Abraham and to his descendants, that he would inherit the world, didn’t come through the law but through the righteousness that comes from faith. 14If they inherit because of the Law, the faith has no effect and the promise has been cancelled. 15The Law brings about wrath. But when there isn’t any law, there isn’t any violation of the law. 16That’s why the inheritance comes through faith, so that it will be on the basis of God’s grace. In that way, the promise is secure for all of Abraham’s descendants, not just for those who are related by Law but also for those who are related by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of all of us. 17As it is written: “I have appointed you to be the father of many nations.” So Abraham is our father in the eyes of God in whom he had faith, the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. 18When it was beyond hope, he had faith in the hope that he would become the father of many nations, in keeping with the promise God spoke to him: “That’s how many descendants you will have.” 19Without losing faith, Abraham, who was nearly 100 years old, took into account his own body, which was as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb, which was dead. 20He didn’t hesitate with a lack of faith in God’s promise, but he grew strong in faith and gave glory to God. 21He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he promised. 22Therefore it was credited to him as righteousness.

23But the scripture that says “it was credited to him” wasn’t written only for Abraham’s sake. 24It was written also for our sake, because it is going to be credited to us too. It will be credited to those of us who have faith in the one who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. 25He was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements of righteousness for us.

This is the Word of the Lord

Thanks be to God

Abraham is held up in the Romans passage as the height of believing. Paul paints a picture through the stories with which he grew up. It’s a portrait of of a man who’s righteousness was counted to him because he believed what God said. Genesis weaves a different tapestry. It’s not a different character than Paul’s, just a more complex version of the story. In the Genesis passage, Abram is full of questions. Knowing the story of Genesis 15 and reading Paul’s interpretation in Romans 4 leaves me with the question Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I imagine Abraham responding, I’m afraid that I’m too old for the promise. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to respond to what I know God is doing in the world. I’m afraid that this wrinkled body, this tired mind, will fail somehow, and I won’t get to see God’s promise fulfilled.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that all that God has given to me will pass to Eleizar of Damascus. I’m afraid that everything I’ve built will pass out of the hands of my family and into the hands of another. I’m afraid that I will not be able to leave something behind that will outlive me. I’m afraid that the things around me that carry my memories will be sold because they won’t mean anything to the one who possesses them. They’re not just trinkets, they’re artifacts from my story, and I cherish the moments of which they remind me.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that my wife Sarah, whom I love, has lost out on the promise. I’m afraid that her body is not up to the task and that I will have to go someplace where she cannot follow. I’m afraid that her story and mine are no longer the same. I’m afraid that she has no part to play, for her womb is dead, and though God has promised children, I do not see how it can happen. I know the promise is there, but I don’t see how it will happen, and that makes me afraid.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid for my life! I’m not a young man anymore, I thought I could live out my days in the city my father built, the city that shares its name with my brother who died. I’m afraid that I live in a strange land where people do not know me, and where I do not know them.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that one day, no one will remember me, that I’ll be a footnote in someone’s family tree, and my story will be lost. I have struggled and succeeded, I have fought and lost, and I am afraid that none of it will matter because those around me won’t care anymore. When the times comes for me to sleep with my ancestors, I am afraid that the ways that God has acted in my life will die with me, and no one will give my testimony. I’m afraid that after I’m gone, people will only say nice things about me, because they do not know the true things to say.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that people look at me, at my age, and call me as good as dead. I still have more to offer, but I’m afraid that I’ll get lost in what other people tell me I am. I’m afraid that I’ve outlived my own narrative, and now I’m just waiting for the book to be closed. I’m afraid that I no longer have a say in my own reality, that all I am is what people say about me, because I don’t think I’m as good as dead. I’m afraid that even though God has promised me much, I cannot keep my end of the deal. I’m afraid that by choosing Sarah and me, God has made a mistake, and we don’t have what will be required of us to embody God’s promise for the world.

Abraham, what are you afraid of?

I’m afraid that all these things that I have floating around in my head will hold me back, and I won’t see what God is doing in the world. I know that my fears are real, and I know that God’s promise is as well. I know that God is wholly reliable, but I am afraid that I will miss God’s promise. I have faith in God, but I’m afraid that my faith has no effect and the promise has been cancelled. I am afraid that I am beyond hope. God has promised me much, but “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually possess it?”

In spite of all these questions we can image Abraham having, “He was fully convinced that God was able to do what he promised. Therefore it was credited to him as righteousness.” Like the Abram of Genesis 15, we have questions, doubts, and much fear. But Paul shows us Abraham not full of fear, but “when it is beyond hope, he had faith.” And when Abram was filled with fear, he chose instead to have faith in the LORD, and it was credited to him as righteousness. These are two impressions of the same man, chosen by God to give glory to God. God who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. So we can ask Abraham a new question. A question to which we already know the answer.

Abraham, what do you have faith in?

My faith is in the God of my father, who is the author of all creation. I have faith in the God who is beyond time, and who’s promises are upheld in every age. My faith is in the God who does not fail, even when I cannot see how it will happen, my faith is that God will make it happen. My faith is in the stories my father and mother told me as a child. Stories about God’s faithfulness, passed down in the family to whom I am connected. Stories that cannot be forgotten, because they are the stories that create reality for all of creation. My faith is in the God who calls things that don’t exist into existence. My faith is that even though the part I have played in this story may be lost, the story still remains. Because it is not only my story, but yours, and ours, and God’s.

Abram’s faith was credited to him as righteousness, and he only had a few stories to hold up. For Abraham, it was the promise of a child. But the child of promise is not just Isaac or Ishmael. The child of promise is something that Abraham could not have imagined. Abraham wandered the promised land generations before his descendants would call it their home. And Generations after those who settled there, his descendant would be born in Bethlehem, and play out a pageant that we have seen and know to be true. We have seen so much more of God’s glory than Abraham could have imagined. Like Abraham, we are sometimes caught up in our fear. But we know that the faith of Jesus Christ is credited to us even more than Abraham’s faith is credited to him.

“[Jesus] was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements for us.” The requirements are met, the promise is made, and it has been credited to us as righteousness before we have a chance to debate it. We do not have to earn it, in fact we cannot. But neither can we lose it, “the promise is secure for all of Abraham’s descendants, not just for those who are related by Law but also for those who are related by the faith of Abraham, who is the father of all of us.” The promise is secure not because of anything we have done or left undone. The promise is secure because God says so.

And when we ask of ourselves the same question we have asked of Abraham, “Christian, what do you have faith in?” The answers can ring out with confidence, because our faith is in the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that don’t exist into existence. Our faith is that when we poor sinners make a mess of this world, God doesn’t stop at cleaning up the mess, God cleans the sinners. God has declared that God will be with us and our own sinful nature cannot stop him. Like a mother who will not forsake her nursing child, like a father who welcomes the prodigal home, the requirements of righteousness have already been met.

Even when our faith falters and we revert to our fears, God still keeps God’s promises. Even when we cannot let our statement of faith rise up from within us, even when we cannot whisper our own faith, the faith of Abraham is counted as ours. Even more, the faith of Jesus our Lord is counted to us. We don’t have to be good enough, we don’t have to have enough faith. God is good enough, and faithful enough, to carry out the redemptive promise.

So don’t be afraid, says the LORD, I am your protector. How freeing is that? How freeing is the promise that we are a redeemed people, and there’s nothing that is not already taken care of? “The promise to Abraham and to his descendants, that he would inherit the world, didn’t come through the Law, but through the righteousness that comes from faith.” The faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, who “was handed over because of our mistakes, and he was raised to meet the requirements of righteousness for us.”

So to answer Abram’s final question, “LORD God, how do I know that I will actually posses it?” You know it because God sweeps away all that we have to fear, and frees us to act in faith, rather than fear.

Amen.

Focus: God is faithful in spite of our fears.

Function: To encourage people to act out of faith, rather than fear.