GET DRESSED FOR THE NEW YEAR

A Sermon for the first Sunday after Christmas
December 31, 2006
by Pastor Laura Gentry

Colossians 3:12-17
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (New Revised Standard Version)


Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

In our second lesson for today, we hear a portion of a letter that was written to the Christians at Colossae, which was in what is now southwestern Turkey. It had a flourishing wool and textile industry and a significant Jewish population. It seems that most Christians there were Gentile. It was most likely written in Paul’s name, by one of Paul’s disciples. In the ancient world, writing in the name of a respected author was accepted and regarded as an honor.

In this portion of the letter, the author is in the midst of describing the Christian life. He instructs them: “Set your minds on things that are above” In order to be ready for Christ when he comes again, you must strip off the old self. Throw it off—get spiritually naked so that you can put on what is right. You need to cloth yourself with virtuous behaviors instead, so that you can be transformed into God’s image.

Today is New Year’s Eve day! It is the time we think ahead to the coming year. We make resolutions or at least we think that we ought to make resolutions. More than any other time of year, we get serious about how to better ourselves, how to make the coming year count. And so this advice from the book of Colossians is quite helpful in this thought process. How do we better ourselves? We put on the following behaviors, just as you would put on clothes. We've got to get dressed for the new year.

Compassion
Compassion is the first thing we are to clothe ourselves with. Think of the most compassionate people you have known. They have an overflowing sympathy for everyone. They go the distance to connect with others and to help them. What would it take for you to put on an extra cloak of compassion this year?

Kindness
The next thing we are to put on is kindness. To be kind is to be friendly, generous and considerate. Have you seen the bumper stickers that says: “Practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty”? It is such a good reminder that kindness should be given lavishly, even randomly, because God is so good to us.

Humility & Meekness
The writer says we are also to put on humility and meekness, a gentleness towards others. We are not to go about puffed up as if everyone owes us something. Rather, we are to be so grateful for what we’ve been given that we seek out the good of all.

Patience
And we are to put on patience. Another bumper sticker I get a kick out of says: “Lord, give me patience, and I want it RIGHT NOW!” That about sums it up. Even with God, we seem to have too little patience. Think about the really patient people you know and dwell for a moment on the pleasantness they bring. How lovely it is to be around someone with great patience. Indeed, we need to make sure we put on patience.

Forgiveness
He goes on to say that we need to bear with one another (the patience helps with this) and forgive one another as Christ has forgiven us. He knows that even in Christian communities, we can get on one another’s nerves and feelings get hurt. So we must be as generous with our forgiveness, as Christ has been in forgiving us.

Love
In wrapping up the clothing metaphor, he writes: “Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” Love is like the suspenders that hold the whole outfit together. Without love, these other wonderful behaviors have little value. Above all, we must be loving. That is the key to healthy community and healthy relationships. And throughout his life on earth, Jesus modeled this kind of self-giving love for us.

Peace
“And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts,” the author writes, “And be thankful.” Now this is a lovely phrase, but how can we live it as we move into 2007? How can the peace of Christ rule our hearts? The word translated as “rule” here literally means be umpire or referee: so may “the peace of Christ” be the reference point for our consciences.

Unfortunately, there is too little peace in our world and that’s because there is too little peace in our hearts. I mean, how many of you never worry? How many of you never wake up in the middle of the night and find your brain wracked with concern about some issue? How many of you can say that you fully posses a peace, as I say at the end of each sermon, that passes all understanding?

If we don’t have that kind of surpassing peace, if it is still missing from our lives—and I would venture to guess that includes all of us here—then we need to go after it. In the way that Christmas shoppers go after the gifts on their list, in the way that athletes go after the win, we must seek peace and pursue it because it is ours for the taking. Christ offers it to us. In fact, in Ephesians 2:14, it says that Christ himself is our peace. He offer us his very presence and that brings us peace.

As I thought about the message of this powerful letter to the Colossians and how it might impact us this morning, on the cusp of a new year, I decided to make little sculptures of hearts for each one of you (pictured in bowl above). These little hearts look perfectly scrumptious but they are ceramic, so do refrain from eating them. Into each heart, I stamped the word “peace”. You’ll notice that the hearts are all different sized. I sculpted each one individually, rather than using a mold, to symbolize how we are each unique. Some are bigger than others, some are lumpier, some are a bit lopsided—just like we are. Yet, whatever shape our hearts are in, Christ comes and impresses his peace upon it. When we allow that peace to be in us, it is as if we are suspended in it. Difficulties will still come, but now they can’t knock us about. With the peace of Christ, we know that it will be okay. Nothing can separate us from the love of God.

At this time, I am going to ask the ushers to come forward and pass these baskets of hearts out to you. As the basket comes by, please choose a heart that suits you. Once you get a heart, I want you to simply hold it in your hand. They are fun to hold because they are small and shiny. You can run your fingers over the letters and feel the word. I’ve designed these hearts to be meditational tools for you. You can hold this heart and it can help to focus your mind on your desire for peace. It is my gift to you for the new year.

Please hold the heart in your hand as I lead us in prayer. Loving God, as we move into this new year that you have given us, help us to strip off all of our old behaviors, our hurtful and selfish behaviors. Help us to get dressed for the new year with your compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience, forgiveness and love. And God, as we move into the future, please give us your peace. We need your peace in our hearts so that we can absorb all the shocks this world has to offer. Bless these heart sculptures in our hands, that they may help us to long for your peace, to seek your peace and to receive it with joy and thanksgiving. Now in silence, we offer our prayers for inner peace to you. (silence for meditation) Thank you God. Thank you God for your peace in our hearts. Amen.

And now may the peace which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2006

WHAT TO DO WITH A BLESSING

A Sermon for the fourth Sunday of Advent
December 24, 2006
Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 1:47-55
My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever." (New Revised Standard Version)

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

At last, we have come to the fourth Sunday in Advent. Our beautiful wreath is almost entirely aglow and we know this evening, we’ll get to light the Christ candle in the middle. The Advent wreath is a powerful symbol of God’s light illuminating the world’s deep darkness. And how as Christmas gets nearer, the light burns brighter.

This is a powerful symbol precisely because we know darkness. We know it all too well. Even this time of year, which is supposed to be so happy, is a dark, painful and depressing time for many. The the stress of the season shows on most everyone’s face: worn from all the shopping and wrapping and baking.

But that’s not all. Darkness pervades throughout the earth, especially in warn-torn regions like the Holy Land. In the little town of Bethlehem—the very place our Savior’s was born—there is no peace. We also think of US soldiers, like Josh Estebo, in Iraq who are not only in harm’s way, but they cannot come home for Christmas. The death toll of Iraqis is countless and US soldier loss is nearing 3,000. There are so many conflicts around the globe. In fact, there are 15 major armed conflicts at present.

With all of these things on top of whatever burdens we’re already bearing, it doesn’t necessarily make us feel in the Christmas Spirit, does it? We talk of Christmas being a blessing to all of us—that we are blessed with the gift of the Christ child. But how do we rejoice in this gift when we don’t feel particularly blessed in this moment?

And just what does “blessing” really mean? Most people think of blessing as God answering our prayers with what exactly we asked for, when we ask for it. That sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? We pray to God for something, and “poof!” God provides it. It’s almost like God should be wearing a red velvet suit with white fur trim, carrying a cosmic sack full of goodies for nice little Christians. Being showered with the goodies of life would be a great way for us to know we are on God’s “nice” list instead of the “naughty” one.

Yet if we dig into our Gospel text for today, we get a different picture of what a blessing is. Mary, the mother of Jesus, is—we must not forget—an unmarried, pregnant teenager. She certainly didn’t ask God for this. Nowhere in Scripture do we hear her prayer to God to be pregnant, to bear the Messiah. God chose this for her. This predicament was not just embarrassing and inconvenient, it could have gotten her stoned to death. That was the law of her time, and if her fianc?, Joseph, didn’t believe her angel story and turned her in to the religious authorities, she would be as good as dead.

Maybe that’s why Mary dashed out of town to visit her older, wiser cousin Elizabeth, who was also dealing with an unexpected pregnancy by the word of God. Maybe together they could come to terms with what it meant to be “blessed women.”

Elizabeth’s blessing wasn’t exactly what we’d expect a blessing to be, either. Sure, it was her prayers answered. For years, she had prayed for a child. She even promised (like Hannah of the book of Samuel) to give the child back to God for service in the Temple, if only God would grant her this request. Years went by, decades went by; and Elizabeth got used to the fact that she wasn’t going to have children. She got used to the fact that God doesn’t always dish out blessings, no matter how hard we pray for them. Sometimes, God seems horribly silent in the midst of our pain. If Elizabeth had learned to live with God’s silence, she could live through anything. And now, in her old age, when her time for childbearing and child rearing was way past, she had to learn how to live with answered prayers and blessing so long overdue. She, like Mary, had to learn to live with unexpected blessing.

The angel Gabriel had said to Mary, “Do not be afraid; you will have joy and gladness; you have found favor with God. For nothing will be impossible for God.”

Stunned by the angelic visitation, stunned by the impossible message spoken by Gabriel; stunned by the absurdity of their predicaments, no doubt Mary and Elizabeth asked what it means to be “blessed.” How can something be a blessing when it raises more questions than it answers? How do you live with a blessing that creates more problems than it solves? Mary and Elizabeth, no doubt, felt contradictory emotions. Pregnancy alone does that to women. But the strangeness of their pregnancies surely flooded them with expectations and apprehension; happiness and depression; confidence and nagging insecurities; hopes and fears. Elizabeth was old enough and wise enough to know (as Luke writes in Ch. 12) that those “to whom much is given, much is required.” Together, these two women grappled with the irony of being blessed by God: namely, that behind every blessing there is burden.

Both these women were to learn that the sons they were blessed with, were not their own. Both their sons would give up their lives, literally, in service to God. Both mothers would suffer the unimaginable and unspeakable horror of having their sons murdered. Mary, we’re told, witnessed her son’s brutal execution. This is the burden on the other side of blessing.

Indeed, the blessings these women received had burden. They had been given much, and so much was required of them. For them, the meaning of God’s blessing had much more depth than a “Santa Claus” idea of God showering us with goodies. God’s activity in human lives always is surprising; turning up where we’d least expect it; where we’d never think to look for it. God turns the world upside down, making us think again about what’s important, what’s real, what’s valuable.

So here is the interesting thing: if God’s blessings are two-sided (both joy and burden, requiring much from those to whom they are given) then perhaps the opposite is also true: those burdens that come our way in life have the hidden and surprising potential of becoming blessing. If we struggle with our burdens and refuse to let go of them until we receive a blessing—as Jacob did when he wrestled the angel—perhaps our upside-down God will turn our burdens over, in God’s time, and bring good out of them.

As Saint Paul writes, “In all things, God works together for good for those who believe, who are called according to God’s purpose.” That’s why Paul gave this instruction to the Christians in Thessalonia: “Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; give thanks in all circumstances.” It may not be easy, but because we know God is God and God is always at work for our good, despite the darkness of the world, we can rejoice always. We can hold onto hope. That’s what the Christmas message is all about.

This reminds me of a poem by Jan L. Richardson from her book "Night Visions: Searching the Shadows of Advent and Christmas":

With each of our breakings you break,
and with each of our woundings your own wounds grow deeper.
Yet you hold the pieces together
till we learn to make the new connections,
and you guard each throbbing wound
till we have had enough of pain.
You remind us that it is our delight you seek, not our suffering.
And you tell us it is not the wounds that give us life,
but the tending of them in each other.
And you say it is not the breaking that makes us whole
but the mending of the pieces that brings us life anew.

As the season of Advent comes to a close, we prepare our hearts to receive the blessing of the Christ child. God has blessed us richly in this shocking birth of low estate. In it, God turns the world upside down. We must open our eyes and ears to look for God being borne in unexpected places. What is required of us is that we open our hearts to receive the both the burden that comes along with our blessings as well as the blessing that comes along with our burdens, laying them all—as Mary and Elizabeth did—in the hands of our all-powerful God. Amen.

Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understand, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2006

THROW OUT YOUR CAGES

A Sermon for the first Sunday of Advent
December 3, 2006
Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 21:25-36
"There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near." Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. "Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man." (New Revised Standard Version)

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

You can’t fool us. We can read the signs. We know when something is about to happen, like when the sky gets really overcast and we know it is going to rain. Around here, people don’t always signal when they’re going to make a turn with their car. But we can read the signs. We see their head turn right and we know they are about to turn right. There’s no fooling us.

And this time of year, we can tell what’s happening, too. The volume of catalogs we receive quadruples—nearly topping our mailboxes, Main Street is lit with wreathes, and you can’t find a parking spot at the mall. Do you suppose Christmas is coming? Yep, we can read the signs.

Here at church, our Christmas tree shows up, along with our Advent wreath, announcing the beginning of the new church year and the Advent season. Advent means “arrival” and we use this season to prepare ourselves to celebrate the nativity, the first arrival of Christ and to prepare our hearts for his second arrival.

The scripture lesson for today urge us to be alert for this Advent. We see the signs, so we ought to keep awake for Christ’s coming. For when he comes again, our creeds remind us, he will judge the world. We will each be judged. So “being alert” is sort of like preparing for a final exam—the final exam of our whole lives.

How do we prepare? It’s pretty daunting, isn’t it? Because we have to be mindful not only about those wrong things we have done, but also of all the good things we should have done but never got around to. If we take an honest look at our lives, we see that we’re in pretty bad standing for the final exam—that our best preparations have been feeble at best. We are caged by our own unworthiness. Not a very cheery way to start the new church year, is it?

But wait! That’s not the end of the story. At Advent time, we celebrate Christ’s first coming in order to prepare for his second. And how did he come the first time? He came as a vulnerable little baby—just like us. He came gently, quietly. He came to be with us, to walk with us and love us back to life. He came not to condemn the world, but to redeem the world. He came to pass the final exam for us. It is freedom he offers.

Rev. A.J. Gordon was the pastor of the Clarendon Baptist Church in Boston, Massachusetts. One day, he met a young boy in front of the sanctuary carrying an old, rusty cage in which several birds fluttered about. Gordon asked, "Son, where did you get those birds?" The boy replied, "I trapped them out in the field." "What are you going to do with them?" he questioned. "I'm going to play with them, and then I don’t know, maybe I'll just feed them to an old cat we have at home."

When Gordon offered to buy them, the lad exclaimed, "Mister, you don't want them. They're just little old wild birds and can't sing very well." Gordon replied, "I'll give you $2 for the cage and the birds." "Okay, it's a deal, but you're making a bad bargain." The exchange was made and the boy went away whistling, happy with his shiny coins. Gordon walked around to the back of the church, opened the door of the small wire coop, and let the struggling creatures soar into the sky.

The next Sunday he took the empty cage into the pulpit and used it to illustrate his sermon about Christ's Advent, his coming to seek and to save the lost—paying for them with His own precious blood. "That boy told me the birds were not songsters," said Gordon, "but when I released them and they winged their way heavenward, it seemed to me they were singing, 'Redeemed, redeemed, redeemed!'"

This story illustrates the power of what God has done for us in Christ. We celebrate that Christmas is not about judgment, but about redemption. Jesus comes to heal and to forgive us—to set us free. So as we see the signs that his second coming could be at any time, we need not panic. No, in Luke’s gospel, Jesus says to us: “stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Yes, this is an exciting time! Our redemption is drawing near.

What does this mean for us? How ought we to live in light of the fact that Christ’s Advent is near? Jesus instructs us: "Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.”

Now think for a moment, about the people in your life. Are their hearts weighed down? We live in such a heart-weighed-down world that I’m willing to bet you know a lot of people whose hearts are weighed down with worries of this life both great and small. If you take a close look at your own heart, I’ll bet you’ll notice some weighing-down happening there, too. What’s with that? Why is worry and hurt so widespread when our redemption is so near?

It is because we do not see it. We only see the troubles immediately before us rather than the gift of Christ’s redemption just beyond that. Back to the cage metaphor: it reminds me of the hamster, Eunice, who I used to own. She was single-minded of purpose—to escape. She would sit in the corner and chew on the bars of her cage all day. Eunice was so fixated upon this that when I would come along and open the door, she wouldn’t even notice and would go right on chewing on the bars just inches from the open door. It seems to me that’s exactly what God sees when God peers into our lives. Christ has set us free, but we do not believe it is really for us. We do not believe that we are worthy of such amazing love,. We are afraid of such wonderful freedom. We choose our cages instead. How this must grieve the heart of our God who loves us so—a God who spared nothing to win our freedom!

Today marks the beginning of Advent. And the message of this season is the song of those wild birds: Redeemed! We need to get used to the fact that we’ve been redeemed, my friends. We need to practice living like it is really true. We need to learn to sing the song of freedom every single day of our lives. We are invited to live immersed in grace so that the worries of life cannot weigh us down and the uncertainty of the future cannot scare us. The bottom line is that we must throw out our cages! Christ has conquered them.

So yes, Christ is coming! We see the signs. We know it. But it is nothing to be troubled about. It is incredibly good news. Today, we are invited by the God of love to lift up our heads with hope in joyful anticipation. Our freedom is here. Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2006

THANKFUL HEARTS

A Sermon for Thanksgiving Eve
November 22, 2006
Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 17:11-19
On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” (New Revised Standard Version)

Now why in the world did that Samaritan return to thank Jesus? I mean, that wasn’t a requirement. Jesus had just told them to go show themselves to the priests. When they did—to their great surprise—they were healed of their leprosy. Nine of the ten were so excited about the healing that they took off.

Luke doesn’t tell us why or where they went, but we can assume they were eager to get back to their homes and families. After all, being lepers meant that they were precluded from being a part of society and were forced to live as despised beggars outside the city gates. By healing them, Jesus had given them completely new realities—he had given them back their lives. And yet, back to thank Jesus just didn’t make it onto their to-do list. So why did it seem necessary to the Samaritan?

I remember when I was a child at my birthday and at Christmas time, I couldn’t open my gifts without a pad and paper at my side so that I could jot down every last gift and who it came from so that I would be sure to write them a thank you note. My mom really drummed it into my head that whenever anyone gives you anything, you must must must send them a thank you note to show your appreciation (even if you didn’t much care for the gift). Thank you notes are just good etiquette.

Perhaps the Samaritan had a mother like mine and he could picture her saying something like: “Whenever you get cured of leprosy, be sure to send a thank you note!” But I think his return to Jesus was much more than politeness conditioned by etiquette-conscious parents.

So why did he return? Well, he was not only different in his gratitude, he was also different in his race. In fact, Luke doesn’t ever tell us his name. We just know him by his cultural identity, as a Samaritan. He was the only one among the ten who was a Samaritan. As I said, being a leper was a terrible lot for an ancient person, but so was being a Samaritan. This man has been hated and discriminated against on two counts. He was an outsider of outsiders. Perhaps this is the reason—because he’d suffered more— the healing of the Samaritan leper provoked a more profound gratitude.

But we’ll never know for sure because Luke doesn’t ever tell us. Luke is more concerned about depicting Jesus and this is a very interesting story about Jesus. It is shocking, really. Jesus shows that the boundaries of God’s grace are much wider than was previously assumed. Religious folks of Luke’s day would have believed that God’s grace would not include non-Jews, let alone lepers! And yet, here we see Jesus sabotage everyone’s small thinking about God by daring to cross the cultural and religious barriers to reach out to the lepers, including the Samaritan. Grace knows no limits!

And this returning Samaritan appears to realize this. He does not send a halfhearted thank you note like I did when I was a kid at Christmas time. No, he turns back and praises God with a loud voice. But the drama does not end there. He prostrates himself, it says. That means he lays on the ground in front of Jesus with his face right down in the dirt. Now that’s humility! That’s gratitude.

With every part of his being, the Samaritan knows that his healing was a gift, not an entitlement. He has been liberated by Jesus. His former, painful isolation has been terminated. He is now free to connect with people and the first one he wants to connect with is Jesus. Alone for who knows how long, his heart must have craved intimacy and now he is seeking it with God through Jesus.

One of the problems in our society today is a sense of entitlement. We go around with the sense that we’re entitled to everything we have and we don’t owe anybody anything, that we’re not responsible. There is an individualism in our culture that makes us self-centered. And this distances us from other people, especially people whose lives are very different from our own. We can’t relate or empathize with them. The other day, I saw a man wearing a T-shirt that said, “That’s YOUR problem, baby,” and I think that characterizes the general attitude of our society.

The nine lepers who took off to re-join their families must have had the kind of entitlement mindset. But one of them turned back. He turned back from this attitude and came to Jesus in gratitude and humility. He understood that God didn’t have to heal him. He understood that he was not entitled to this goodness at all, but that God’s boundary-crossing grace came to him as a gift.

Here we are again on the eve of Thanksgiving; the time of year designated to be grateful—kind of like obligatory thank you notes. We can gloss right over the giving thanks part and head straight for the turkey, or we can see it as an opportunity to cultivate a renewed sense of gratitude in our hearts. We can let the Samaritan leper teach us to proclaim our complete dependence upon God and lay ourselves at God’s feet, recognizing that what we have is not our entitlement. It is a gift.

We can learn from this leper that to be grateful means to reconnect, to see ourselves as part of God’s larger family, to understand that your problem is MY problem, too. We need one another and together, we need God.

And recognizing all this frees us to have grateful hearts, happy hearts—hearts that rejoice in the half-fullness of the cup rather than hearts that whine about the half-emptiness of it. God has crossed all boundaries to reach us and having grateful hearts frees us to do more boundary crossing of our own, to reach out and love as God loves.

What happened to the Samaritan after his encounter with Jesus? You guessed it: Luke doesn’t tell us. All we know is that Jesus said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.” My guess is that the Samaritan WAS made well, that he was changed by the encounter. My guess is that he went home and saw his family and friends with altogether new eyes—with eyes of profound gratitude. I am willing to bet that he never took anything or anyone for granted after that. And he probably laughed a lot and was enormously fun to be around.

You and I know people like that. And this Thanksgiving, may we be reminded that we are called to BE people like that ourselves. To be happy and healthy and whole and well, we must admit our need for God and one another and be immensely grateful for all we have.

Let us pray: God of boundary-crossing grace, enkindle in us a fire of profound gratitude for all that you have given us. Forgive us for the self-centeredness that so often creeps into our lives. Help us to return to you, as the Samaritan did, to show our thanks for your many gifts. May we live as your grateful and joyful people this Thanksgiving and always. Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2006

THAT'S ENCOURAGING!

A Sermon for the 24th Sunday after Pentecost
November 19, 2006
Pastor Laura Gentry

Hebrews 10:11-25
And every priest stands day after day at his service, offering again and again the same sacrifices that can never take away sins. But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, "he sat down at the right hand of God," and since then has been waiting "until his enemies would be made a footstool for his feet." For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified. And the Holy Spirit also testifies to us, for after saying, "This is the covenant that I will make with them after those days, says the Lord: I will put my laws in their hearts, and I will write them on their minds," he also adds, "I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more." Where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin. Therefore, my friends, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh), and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching. (New Revised Standard Version)

Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I remember a few years ago, I received a nine-page letter here at the church. It was from a Christian writer, not affiliated with any particular group, who was very concerned about warning us of the dangerous reality of hell. Apparently, he felt that Lutherans are not frightened enough of hell, and so he took it upon himself to caution us in the form of this lengthy oration. At one point in the letter, he said, “Pastor, do you realize that the lava that comes out of volcanos comes straight out of the fires of hell?!!” I’m not sure where he got that bit of scientific insight, but he was certainly adamant.

And this fellow isn’t the only one worried about the fires of hell. The fictional Left Behind books, which deal with the presumed horrors of apocalypse, continue to be popular. Many have made the New York Times Bestseller list. In all, there will be 16 books, with the final installment due out next year. Clearly, they grip a real fear in people.

But in the section of Paul’s letter to the Hebrews we heard this morning, he speaks passionately about how we should behave in these last days. Now, Paul believed that the end of the world would be at any moment—and obviously, he was wrong about the timing since it still hasn’t come almost 2,000 years later—but even so, he didn’t think we should live in fear of the final judgement. Instead, we should hold fast to the promise of forgiveness and salvation through Jesus. Meanwhile, we should be about the work of Christ. Furthermore, we should encourage others to do the same.

As we make our way through the Book of Hebrews with its sparkling and sometimes confusing images of sacrifices and great high priests and its extended metaphor of Jesus as that priest who makes all other priests unnecessary, the following verses come to us with a remarkable clarity and freshness: “Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.”

Paul is confident that we needn’t be concerned about how lava is connected to the fires of hell or harbor any other apocalyptic phobias like being left behind, as if Christ’s resurrection had no power. Rather than living in fear, we ought to hold onto hope. Without wavering.

Yet this is difficult to do, especially in our complicated world. How do we live in hope? Vaclav Havel, a Czech writer, put it eloquently when he wrote: "Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good."

To hope is to take action. To hope is to believe so firmly in Christ that you are willing to throw yourself into his work—because it is good. And not only that, Paul says that we also should provoke one another to love and good deeds. Have you ever heard of provoking someone to do good? Probably not. The context we almost always hear that word is bad—you provoke someone to anger. But Paul has a different idea. Instead of provoking anger and strife, we should be using that same concentrated energy to provoke love and good deeds.

We simply can’t afford to be grumpy and negative, though as humans, we are naturally gifted in those areas. As believers in Christ in these last days, we must do the radical: be hopeful and encourage hopefulness in others. But how should we go about it? I mean, they didn’t offer encouragement classes in school. Encouragement isn’t a natural skill. It is something that needs to be learned and practiced. So this morning, I offer you three practical ways to encourage people.

1. ENCOURAGE WITH PRAYER
When I was a child, I always thought the prayers of the people went on way too long in worship. In fact, one time when I was in junior high, I passed out during them! And because the prayers were so lengthy, my family had time to drag me out without anyone noticing because their eyes were still closed. But when I went to seminary, I learned to appreciate the prayers of the people and how they can touch upon so many aspects of our faith. One of the things we do during these prayers is to offer encouragement to those who are ill, or recovering from surgery or grieving the loss of a loved one. And in our own personal prayers, we ought to be praying for our church, and for the individual members of it—that’s why we publish all the prayer requests in our newsletter.

Our prayers on behalf of one another pack a powerful punch because God hears and listens. The other thing about prayer is that it changes us. The more we pray for someone, the more we see them as God does—with compassion—and that changes the way we act toward them. When you pray for someone regularly, you can’t dislike them. If you don’t believe me, take the “prayer challenge” and pray for someone you consider to be an enemy. Pray every day for that person for a month and you’ll find you no longer consider them an enemy.

That’s why Paul encourages us to encourage one another through prayer. This is, indeed, Christ’s work.

2. ENCOURAGE WITH WORDS
Another way that we can encourage others is through our words. As you know, words are powerful and sometimes we wield them like weapons instead of lifter-uppers. We need to be much more careful about our use of words.

After speaking with someone, ask yourself, “Has this person been encouraged by our conversation? Do they have more hope now? Are things brighter for them as a result of our contact?” If the answer is no, then it’s time to get more encouraging!

3. ENCOURAGE WITH ACTIONS
Finally, we need to encourage with actions. Beyond just saying uplifting things to others, we can be doing things to encourage people.

I found a company on-line that sells sample encouragement letters. The written word, it explains, is more powerful yet than the spoken one. “Encourage people with letters,” they say, “we’ll show you how!” And while, I don’t think buying encouragement letters is necessary, I do think they have a point about the impact of them.

Consequently, we have an encouragement team here at church. They do simple things like send notes that say: “You’ve been caught doing something great!” We can all be doing more of that. How many times have you thought about sending an encouragement note to someone and then neglected to actually do it? Taking action—even in a small way—can make a big difference.

In addition, Paul says we mustn’t neglect coming together for worship. This is an important a way of taking encouraging action. It is so difficult to live in hope, to hold on to Jesus without wavering. We absolutely need one another. We can and should be a blessing to one another. That is the active encouragement that a congregation is meant to provide all its members.

Although we live in the “end times,” and have no idea when that final judgment will come, we must not give in to fear. We must trust fully in the grace of God and spend our energy on hope and encouragement in Christ. We can encourage others through prayer, through words and through actions. We can do it! It’s just a matter of getting into new, hope-centered habits. We can make a difference and that’s encouraging!

Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understand, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2006

TRUST FALL

A Sermon for the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost
November 12, 2006
Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 12:38-44
As he taught, he said, "Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows' houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation." He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on." (New Revised Standard Version)

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Many camps offer a high ropes or low ropes course, both offer physical exercises that aid in team building efforts. One of those exercises is called the trust fall. Participants stand on a stump, sometimes as high as six feet in the air, and crossing their arms over their chest and wearing a blindfold, fall backwards into the arms of their teammates. As you can tell, “trust fall” is a very good name for it because that’s exactly what happens—you must trust that you will be caught when you fall. You place your entire well-being in their hands.

I think of the trust fall when I think of this morning’s Gospel story of the widow’s mite. Here was a woman who was widowed and poor. In those days, women could not own property or work for a living so she had to depend upon charity to get by. And she was down to her last two copper coins. To this day, this is all that we know about her. She was a woman of great faith. In fact, she became an object lesson, a living sermon for Jesus. She remains an icon of faith as she was able to “trust fall” into God’s arms.

This unnamed woman is known only by her marital status and her coins rather than her name, since the story is simply called the “widow’s mite.” She is the widow who had nothing but two small coins. I remember reenacting this story in Sunday school and the teacher gave the “widow” actress two pennies to put into the Sunday school bank. But in actuality, the widows coins weren’t even worth that much. Their value was one four-hundredth of a shekel—about an eighth of a penny each. Too small to bear a legible imprint, they were the ugliest little coins in the empire of Rome.

Mark doesn’t tell us much about what’s going on in this scene. We know that Jesus has been teaching in the temple courts. Now, on his way out, he pauses by the treasury to watch as offerings are made. Each person would walk up to one of the thirteen trumpet-shaped receptacles, which were lined along the wall of the Court of the Women. Both men and women were allowed in this courtyard of the temple, but the women could not go any further. The treasury was in this courtyard and it is opposite this treasury that Jesus watched as people came up and offered their money. Each person was expected to say aloud the amount and purpose of the gift in order to be heard by the priest overseeing the collections.

It would have been an impressive sight to see people in fine clothes with their fancy rings tossing in large sums, calling out to all how much they gave. And in such a group, who would notice the widow tossing the two smallest coins in the realm into the offering? Yet, in a move that is so like him, Jesus notices and calls attention to her act of faith.

Jesus has found his sermon illustration, so calls his disciples together for a little sermon. He says, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

Jesus knows that these are not just any two coins, they are the woman’s last two coins. The text says, “All she had to live on,” but the Greek is more shocking. What is really said is that she put in her “bios.” It’s the word from which we get biology—the study of life. Jesus tells us that the widow put her “life” into the temple treasury that day. It wasn’t just coins, it was her very life she offered God.

This is not a sermon about tithing, for the woman did not give ten percent of her income. These were her last two coins to rub together, and rather than keep one back, she tossed both into the temple treasury’s coffers. The widow gave 100 percent of her money. The widow is down to two worthless coins, and she trusts it all to God. If this were a gamble, then the widow would be laying all her money on God. But it is not a gamble, it is trust. She “trust falls” into the arms of a God she trusts entirely.

It would be nice if Mark filled in more details for us. Was Jesus’ arm around the woman as he said, “This poor widow has put in more …” or was the woman blending back into the crowd, never to be seen again? Or perhaps Jesus asked his own keeper of the purse, Judas Iscariot, to give something to this woman so that she would not go hungry that evening. Perhaps the widow became a follower of Jesus. Did she join with the other women who journeyed with Jesus and the disciples from Galilee to the cross and then went on to share the good news?

The Gospel never answers these questions. The nameless widow who gave two small coins fades into the background. It would be wonderful if we knew her name. We could name churches, schools, and charities in her honor. But perhaps namelessness is appropriate for this living parable. And maybe it is best, too, that we don’t find out how her story ends. The nameless woman whose ultimate fate we never know is perhaps an even better icon of trust, for her story was a precarious one. She went to the temple that day not knowing if she would ever have another meal.

And yet, in facing an uncertain future, the widow reached out to God. She trusted that if she gave everything she had to God, even the little she gave would be honored. And whether she was repaid handsomely by Jesus himself, or God cared for her in some other way, we, too, have to trust. We trust that the widow’s story turned out all right, that she was right to allow herself to fall into grace. We trust that no matter what happened, she was God’s.

And by her example, Jesus shows that what we withhold matters more than what we offer. The widow was a woman of great faith, who held nothing back. She knew what Jesus’ disciples were just beginning to learn: we are to give, knowing that everything we have is God’s already. We can’t give God anything. But we can offer our very selves to the Kingdom of God, holding nothing back.

Do we even know what it means to trust fall into God’s arms? Do we give ourselves completely to anything, let along God? The theologian Soren Kierkegaard (whose grave I recently saw in Denmark), explained that God’s grace in Jesus Christ is entirely free, but it costs us everything because we must take the leap of faith. We must trust God with our whole lives. Being a disciple of Jesus is a serious endeavor. It is costly discipleship.

Today, we are receiving new members and it is exciting to have them join with us in our effort to lead faithful lives. It is not easy to trust fall. Not easy at all. And so we need one another in this important mission. We pray for our new members: that they can inspire us and we can inspire them. And together, we can come closer to the faith of this humble widow who placed her whole life back in her loving creator’s hands. Amen.

Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.

© Laura E. Gentry 2006