Sunday, February 28, 2010

GATHERED UNDER GOD'S WINGS

A Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent

by Pastor Laura Gentry


Luke 13: 31-35


In this morning’s gospel text, we have one of the strangest juxtapositions of animal imagery. That’s right: we have talk of a fox and a hen within two verses of one another. You remember the old children’s story of the crafty sly fox and the little red hen? These two opposites have often been put together in stories because they are natural foes in the animal kingdom, kind of like cats and dogs.


But why would Luke, our storyteller here, put these images together? What is he trying to teach us?


Well, it begins when the Pharisees come and offer a friendly word of warning that Herod is plotting to kill Jesus. He responds by saying: “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed away from Jerusalem.’” Yes, Herod is a sly fox. He is the predator who sees Jesus as a threat and wants to get rid of him. He’s just as we would expect a fox to be. There’s nothing out of the ordinary with this image.


But then, Jesus bursts into a surprising public lament. He bemoans the state of the city, crying “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”


This is rather shocking on a number of levels. First of all, Jesus is very demonstrative of his emotions. For those who are used to keeping a stiff upper lip, it is a bit disarming that Jesus, our role model, would let his feelings show with such abandon. Perhaps he is even weeping as he utters these words. He is clearly shaken by the disobedience to God and the cruelty of the people of Jerusalem.


To know Jesus is to know God. So this is telling us how much God hurts for the world, how much God’s heart aches when we turn away and follow other things, when we choose self-centeredness and injustice. It tells us how much God longs for us to return. It is shocking that God is so passionate about us.


The second thing that surprises that he likens himself to a mother hen. Did we hear that right? He compares himself to a female chicken? What in the world are we supposed to do with this bizarre image? Chickens, as you know, just aren’t that glamorous and for those who are fixed on the maleness of Jesus, this feminine metaphor can be a stumbling block. But for now, let’s try to look past these barriers to our understand and open our minds to what Jesus is saying to us.


First, let’s deal with the hen thing. When we know that Herod—the fox—is out to get Jesus, we would rather Jesus be a wolf or some other powerful predator who can take care of that nasty fox. Instead, he calls himself a hen. We all know what short work foxes make of hens. In so doing, he shows his vulnerability.


But it is this very vulnerability that makes Jesus so spectacular. He says, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings.” Have you ever seen a mother hen do this? Apparently, the mother has a wonderful ability to scoop up her little chicks and tuck them right under her wings where they will be safe. When the wee ones peep out and try to make a run for it, she simply scoops them back in where they can nestle securely, unaware of the dangers of the outside world.


What an amazing tenderness this show us! Jesus longs to gather us under the loving wings of the eternal God. Isn’t there something incredibly moving about this idea? Isn’t there something deep within us that yearns to be gathered in by the cosmic mother hen? Don’t we hunger for this kind of incorruptible love?


But Jesus goes on to say to the people of Jerusalem, “but you were not willing!” It reminds us that our hearts are divided. Even though a part of us may long to run to the wings of our Savior, another part of us is stubborn and completely unwilling. We’d rather go anywhere but God. Martin Luther described this as being saint and sinner at the same time.


We, like Jerusalem, are not willing. Yet, Jesus goes to the cross for us anyway. He becomes the vulnerable lamb of God for our sake. He subjects himself to the wicked fox. And in emptying himself in this way, he is glorified. Jesus triumphs over sin and death and with this victory in hand, he continues to long for us. He desperately wants to gather us under his wings, despite our unwillingness.


And so in this season of Lent when we are focused upon repentance, we have to look at this scripture and say: what is it asking me to change? Clearly it is telling us that we need to allow ourselves to be gathered up under God’s wings. So often, people find themselves hard to love, hard to forgive. They beat themselves up about every last thing and then wonder why they are unhappy. This scripture tells us that this kind of self-loathing is unnecessary and destructive. Godyearns to draw us under the wings of love no matter what we’ve done. There is always another opportunity to return home. First, we must allow ourselves to be loved.


Secondly, we are invited to let this all encompassing love spill out into the rest of our lives, so that we can give the kind of amazing love that God gives to us. This is such a simple message and you’ve heard this theme running through scripture again and again. Yet, we have a new opportunity to really do it. It makes all the difference in the world.


Let me give you an example. One of the families in my internship congregation experienced a life-changing event 104 days ago. Their young adult son, Grayson, had a heart “event” that may have starved his brain of oxygen for up to 11 minutes. Amazingly, he lived through it. At first, he was confined to a bed where he was on oxygen and a feeding tube doing nothing but thrash about, unable to comprehend a thing. Imagine the pain and suffering his parents went through to see their talented, young college graduate suddenly in this condition! Yet, with many prayers and much hard work, Grayson has made tremendous progress toward recovery and is now in a long-term rehabilitation facility where each he can do many things for himself and each day, he learns new skills.


Just yesterday his mother, Regina, wrote in their blog that she attended her 40th high school class reunion. She had tried to talk herself out of it, thinking that instead she should be driving the 2 hours north to see Grayson over the weekend. In the end, however, she went. And this is what she wrote.


I admit I was looking forward to seeing these classmates after 40 years but I was unprepared for how much it affected me. I walked into a room of 59-year old women and immediately felt surrounded by love. Word of Grayson's situation had already spread among them (thanks to Facebook), the years disappeared and we shared that unique wrinkle in time that you only experience a few times in life. The outpouring of love and prayers made me feel part of something larger than high school, larger than the common experience of parenthood. By no means was I the only one in the room whose life has taken a huge left turn. The room was filled with the challenges of parents, children, health, employment and faith. For one afternoon we felt we were all in this together. For one afternoon these were not just classmates from 40 years ago but we were sisters in life loving each other and praying for each other."


I believe Regina was being held in the wings of God through the compassion and understanding of her classmates. That’s what we need to realize. Every time we care selflessly about someone, we are allowing God to speak to them through us! We can bless people more than we ever though possible if we just nestle into God’s wings and live from that place of security and love.


In this season of Lent, let us tune our hearts to that love, let us listen for the voice of God amid the babble of our daily lives. We are beckoned by God to live in those feathery wings, to be willing to receive the love which God offers us in Jesus and courageously share it. Amen.


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


Sunday, February 21, 2010

THE WORD IS NEAR

A Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent

Pastor Laura Gentry


Romans 10:8b-13

The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart" (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For one believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved. The scripture says, "No one who believes in him will be put to shame." For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him. For, "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved."



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

It’s Lent. That means it’s time to focus on repentance. Well, what are repenting from? Sin, of course. But what does that mean to us in our modern society. Sin is not a very vogue word anymore and so I think it is helpful for us to talk about sin this morning so we can make sure we are all on the same page. What do we mean when we say “sin”?


In early Christian times, the church sought to define sin and found that they could classify all sin into seven categories, which came to be known as the seven deadly sins. The final list included: wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony.


Donald Capps, professor of pastoral care at Princeton Theological Seminary, recently conducted an interesting study about the attitudes that people hold about these “deadly sins” and restored “melancholy” to the list, thus bringing the amount of sins to eight.


Here is how Capps defines each of the sins. As I explain them, I invite you to think about what this study asked people to answer. First, which sin do you consider to be the most serious, the most harmful? And secondly, with which sin do you struggle the most?


Anger: An angry or resentful attitude reflected in feelings of intense hostility, vengefulness and inner rage


Apathy: An apathetic attitude toward life, reflected in an indifference toward the needs and aspirations of others


Envy: A persisting envy of another person who enjoys advantages of attention and recognition that one wants for oneself


Gluttony: Addictive habits, like excessive or erratic eating or drinking, which cause oneself and others misery


Greed: A consuming desire for wealth or affluence (or for the security material things promise)


Lust: A sexual attitude that treats other persons as objects


Melancholy: A personal bitterness toward life; hatred and disgust for the world and the people with whom one associates


Pride: A self-centered attitude of continually expecting or demanding praise and adulation


So of these types of sin—anger, apathy, envy, gluttony, greed, lust, melancholy, and pride—which do you consider the most serious and with which do you most struggle?


Capps’ findings were interesting. For both clergy and laity, pride and envy were at the bottom of the list for the seriousness of sins. They considered them the least offensive. Yet, ironically, these were the top to sins they admitted to struggling with. Yes, the sins of pride and envy plague most Christians.


Capps explains that since people don’t consider these sins to be that serious, they don’t necessarily feel much guilt about having pride and envy. However, they do feel shame about it.


They feel shame because they have high ideals for their lives. They think they ought to be able to accomplish everything they put their minds to, especially in relationships. They think they can be all things to all people. And it turns out they can’t. And so they feel bad about themselves for having fallen short of their own ideals.


This makes people feel drained and depleted. They desperately hunger for recognition and admiration but live with a gnawing sense of defeat and failure. In short, they feel miserable because of their own inadequacy. They are ashamed of themselves.


So what do we do with ourselves when we find ourselves in this boat? When we feel depleted and don’t know how we got this away? Even looking at scripture can contribute to this. For example, in today’s gospel lesson we see Jesus standing up to the devil. Without food, out in the desert, he still has the stamina to beat the devil at his own game every time and resist temptation. We think how unlike Jesus we are because we haven’t that kind of spiritual strength. And that can push us further into our shame.


Yet, we also have some amazingly helpful words from Paul in our Epistle reading. He is upset at how how the people are seeking to establish their own righteousness. Isn’t that what we’re doing when we feel ashamed about not living up to our high ideals? We don’t need to be the perfect people we think we can be, he explains. “For Christ is the end of the law so that there may be righteousness for everyone who believes." By this end, he means fulfillment. Christ has fulfilled the law on our behalf.


Christ has done for us what we cannot do for ourselves and his righteousness can be our righteousness no matter what deadly sins plague us. How? By believing and calling upon his name.


That’s the whole deal as Paul tells it. We don’t need to go around puffed up with pride trying to winkle a little bit more appreciation out of people so we’ll feel better about ourselves. We don’t have to get jealous when we see other getting more recognition than we do. These sins stem from the needy, shameful self and they can’t fill our emptiness. They come from the heart of the person who feels unloved.


Yet God loved us so much that he sent his Son, Jesus to be our righteousness of for us. Jesus came to complete the law for us. If we just believe in Jesus and call upon him to help us, we will be saved. That is love. That is pure love. That is what we are hungering for in our heart of hearts.


Paul writes that this love is not far off. He says "The word is near you, on your lips and in your heart." We can grasp the eternal love of God in Christ simply be believing in our hearts and calling to him with our mouths. Salvation is right here. Love is right here. The remedy for our emptiness is right here. Right now.


Oh, can’t we see it? Can’t we grasp it? That’s what this season of repentance is designed for. It’s not here to make us feel more guilt or shame than we already bear. It is to help us see that we don’t have to go on living this way. We can trade in our emptiness for joy. We can admit that we need Christ’s righteousness because we can’t earn it by our own good living. We can reach out and grab onto our dear savior with all our hearts and ask him for salvation. The word is so, so near. Why don’t we just call out to him?


Let us pray: Jesus, we cry to you. You know that our own attempts at happiness have failed us again and again. We simply cannot live up to our own ideals. We fall short and end up feeling depleted and needy. Yet you came to save us. Help us to see that your love and your righteousness are so near to us. We reach out to you again. We believe you. Lord Jesus, save us. Amen.


© Laura Gentry 2010



Thursday, February 18, 2010

AMAZINGLY ALIVE

A Sermon for Ash Wednesday

Pastor Laura Gentry


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

Ash Wednesday is the warning trumpet that sounds the alarm: you are going to die! Tonight, you will be invited to come forward to be marked with ashes and the words “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” No wonder our worship attendance isn’t as great tonight as it undoubtedly will be on Easter morning. Ash Wednesday is difficult. Painful. It calls to mind the harsh truth that we are mere mortals and nothing we can accomplish in our lives will change that. We are dust and we await the inevitable: that we will become dust again.


Yes, it is tempting to just skip this service and the whole 40 days of repentance thing. But you are here tonight, perhaps because you understand there’s something unique in this service—in the ritual of the ashes—and in the journey of Lent.


The American Poet Wallace Stevens wrote: “Death is the mother of Beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfillment to our dreams And our desires.”


What are your dreams? Your desires? How does your impending death compel you to accomplish them? Yes, death is the mother of beauty. Isn’t that what we are saying tonight by our willingness to be here and have ashes smeared onto our foreheads?


Life is fragile and fleeting. When we stare death in the face, we come to a new appreciation for the role of faith in our lives. Our vulnerability drives us into the arms of God and there we find the fulfillment of our dreams and desires.


The season of Lent is about repentance, of turning away from our sin. Many think of it as a dreadful time when we must deny ourselves particular worldly pleasures. Certainly fasting, prayer and almsgiving are the traditional Lenten disciplines and are helpful in this season of repentance. Yet to repent is not just to turn away from sin—it is about turning toward God. That is the beauty of this season.


You see, the irony is that we begin this season talking about death and this helps us turn toward God who makes us amazingly alive. It is about participating in our own resurrection and not just our eternal resurrection that happens after we die, but about our resurrected life in the here and now. This Lenten journey is a journey from death to life.


As you know, our former church musician and friend, Ben Larson, died in Haiti at age 25, just months before his graduation from seminary. Again, we are reminded that life is short. Yet, Ben knew the joy of living the resurrected life each and every step of his way on earth. And in those final moments of his life, even when his life was at an end, his wife could hear him under the rubble singing. Yes, Ben spent his last breaths singing. The final phrase she heard from him was: "God's peace to us we pray.” Ben could sing of God’s peace even in this dark moment because he knew Jesus. Jesus had become his song that he sang by his joyful, faithful living.


One of Ben’s favorite hymns was “Lord Jesus, You Shall Be My Song” and he had requested that it be sung at his funeral “some day,” not knowing his death was so imminent. And so when his body was recovered and brought to Decorah for his funeral and internment, this hymn was sung.


I would like to sing it for you now because I think it illustrates the goal of Lent: that we turn away from sin and death and into the arms of Jesus who will not just love us every step of our journey, but will be our song.


Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey;

I'll tell ev'rybody about you wherever I go:

you alone are our life and our peace and our love.

Lord Jesus, you shall be my song as I journey.


Lord Jesus, I’ll praise you as long as I journey;

May all of my joy be a faithful reflection of you,

May the earth and the sea and the sky join my song.

Lord Jesus, I’ll praise you as long as I journey.


As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant;

to carry your cross and to share

all your burdens and tears,

For you saved me by giving your body and blood.

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant.


I fear in the dark and the doubt of my journey;

but courage will come with the sound

of your steps by my side.

And with all of the family you saved by your love,

we'll sing to your dawn at the end of our journey.


Let us enter fully into the repentance of Lent, with Jesus as our song that we may be amazingly alive. God’s peace to us we pray. Amen.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

DEEP WATER

A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Epiphany

Pastor Laura Gentry


Luke 5:1-11


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

In today’s Gospel lesson, we hear the story of Jesus calling Simon Peter to become his disciple. Now this poor guy has been working all night to catch fish and he’s a professional fisherman—he’s not just doing this for fun like many of you. If he doesn’t catch fish, perhaps his family won’t eat. He is very disheartened at this point.


Then along comes Jesus. He’s already got a following and people are pressing on him to hear the word. So Jesus jumps into Simon’s boat—presumably without even asking permission. He asks him to set out a bit from the shore and then preaches from there as it it is his floating pulpit.


After this, he tells Simon Peter to put out into deep water and let his news down for a catch. Of course Simon is reluctant to do so as it seems to him like a rather dumb idea. Why would they catch fish now? They haven’t caught any all night. It must be one of those weird no-fish days. But he agrees because Jesus seems to be a person of authority.


And it is a good thing he agrees because there are immediate results! Their nets catch so many fish that they begin to break. This is an enormous amount of fish.


Archeologists recently uncovered a fishing boat from that region and era that was 26.5 feet long, 7.5 feet wide, and 4.5 feet high. In fact, my dad just saw it during his visit to the Holy Land. We must assume that this was about the size of Simon Peter’s boat. People in those days were smaller and most stood no taller than 5’5”, which made the boats extremely deep for them, with great capacity to hold fish. This story says that two boats were so filled with fish that they began to sink. Indeed, this is a phenomenal amount of fish.


It so impresses Simon Peter that he recognizes the divinity of Jesus. This is his “aha” moment—his epiphany. Immediately, he becomes afraid of Jesus’ holiness. He says: "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" Like Isaiah and Paul, whose callings we heard about in our other readings this morning, he does not feel worthy to be called by the God of the Universe. But Jesus isn’t really interested in taking no for an answer. He presses him: "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." And so Simon Peter and his friends leave their boats and everything else to answer this calling.


Perhaps it is difficult to imagine just how difficult this must have been for them. Simon and James and John leave everything and go with Jesus without so much as a good bye. Did they have wives? Children? Homes? Businesses to run? We really don’t know. But they left it all behind for the sake of following Jesus. Don’t think for a minute that this was easy for them.


And here we are in the midst of the Epiphany season, reading this text in worship. So the question is: what are we to take from this Gospel passage? How can it inform us in our journey? Well like the texts we examined last week, it asserts that God calls us all to follow. We don’t remember applying for the job but that’s no deterrent. Jesus wants us. He won’t take no for an answer. He doesn’t accept the “I’m not qualified” excuse. He wants us. And he wants us right now to follow him and to learn how to “fish for people.”


That’s really the mission of the church, isn’t it? After all, Simon Peter is the rock upon whom Jesus built the church. And from the get-go, Simon had to fish for people.


What does this calling mean for us? How are we to be fishers of people? This story reminds me of Mother Teresa. She was certainly someone who heard the call of God and dropped everything to go and serve. Many times people would approach her and talk about how they longed to move to India also, so they could work at her side in serving the poor. Many romanticized how great it would be to work in the trenches like she did. But she would tell them: “No, stay where you are. Stay right here and love the people God has given you to love. Care for people right where you are.”


This is very helpful advise because we often think that we can’t do much to “fish for people” unless we were to go do global mission or enroll in seminary or something dramatic like that. Mother Teresa, however, believed that you can bloom where you’re planted. Right here, right now, reach out to the people you are near. That’s a tip we can use.


Nevertheless, even if we don’t move to a different country or take on a new career as an evangelist, we have a tough job. Just as Jesus urged Simon Peter to move out his normal fishing spot and put out into deep water, he calls us to deep water. By this, it means we are to move out of our comfort zones, to do whatever is needed in order to share the Gospel and be “fishers of people.”


Now the expression “you are in deep water” also means that you are in a difficult circumstance. I would have to agree that Jesus probably meant that too. He calls us to go into deep water. This means we must trust God more fully, risk more wholeheartedly. And this is hard for us. We don’t like taking a new step. We don’t like the unknown. In fact, scientists who study the subconscious mind tell us that the subconscious equates the unknown with pain and therefore, it tries really hard to steer us away from doing unknown things. Of course it is scary, but no one said faith was easy. As the disciples found, it is a risk we cannot afford not to take.


So once we get past our own emotional hurdles and we are really determined to learn from Jesus how to be fishers of people, what do we do? It is quite a task. Many church evangelism strategies have been developed over the years as people have attempted to find the best formula for catching people for Jesus. I am not convinced there is a “best one” out there. It is not about having the right sales tactic or the best glossy brochures. It is about really connecting with people and conveying our enthusiasm that will win hearts and minds.


I once had a bishop tell me that the best evangelism is a two step process that can be described in two words: share and invite.


First we must share our faith with others. Think about how you would answer the following questions. What is God doing in my life? How does my faith shape me? Am I enthusiastic about it? Why?


Today we have lots of ways to get the word out besides just talking with people face to face. A new study found that kids age 8-18 are spending virtually all their free time using some form of digital device whether it’s being on the computer, listening to digital music or texting. On average, these kids are spending 7 1/2 hours a day doing this. That’s why I’m on facebook. I’m able to connect with young people and some not-so-young people as well. The pope recognizes that social networking sites are a good evangelism tool. He’s started his own website and is on facebook too and he encourages priests to get blogging. You know it’s about doing whatever it takes to share our faith.


Once we have expressed the joy that is within us as a result of our relationship with God, the second step is easy: invite. Invite others to come revel in the good news. We don’t need to hard-sell them. We just need to share and invite and trust the Holy Spirit to do the rest.


It’s not easy! We are called out into deep water the sake of the gospel. Let’s summon the courage to put out into that water and cast the nets of God’s love far and wide. Amen.


Sunday, January 31, 2010

I AM WITH YOU TO DELIVER YOU

A SERMON FOR THE 4TH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY, YEAR C

by Pastor Laura Gentry


Jeremiah 1:4-10


I don’t have enough experience.

I’m just not that talented.

I think I’m too young.

I’m scared to death of public speaking.

I really don’t have the confidence for this.

I would hate to be rejected.

Can’t you get somebody else for the job? Please!


This is just a glimpse of the litany of excuses the prophets of God have issued. Moses thought he was unable to speak and altogether unexperienced at leading Exoduses. Isaiah was overwhelmed with his own sense of sin. Even Jesus was rejected by his hometown folks. In today’s gospel we hear how he was nearly hurled off the cliff by them.


The prophet’s job has never been easy. No one ever applies for this position. Nevertheless, God has continued to pluck ordinary people out of their everyday lives and equip them for the tremendous task of being a prophet. They all fuss and complain and protest and try to winkle out of it. But God will have none of it. God is perfectly confident in the ability of these regular folks because God infuses them with divine power and wisdom.


That’s certainly the case for the prophet Jeremiah. We hear about his call to ministry in our first lesson for today. God says to him: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” A prophet to the nations. Yes, his prophesy will have not just local but global impact.


It seems his work is all cut out for him, but like others who have been called, Jeremiah asserts that he’s not qualified. His primary excuse is that he can’t speak because he’s too young. “I’m just a boy!” he whines.


Nope. That alibi isn’t going to fly with God. There is no need to fret about this or any other shortcomings Jeremiah may have. “For I am with you,” God assures him, “to deliver you.” His job will not be easy but each and every step of the way, God will be accompanying him—giving him the very words to speak. Then, God actually touches his lips to assure him that the words he will need to speak in his prophetical career will be provided for him. This is not just a pep talk encouraging Jeremiah that he can do it. It is, instead, a promise that God’s true presence will be with him at all times. And because of this, there is truly no need for Jeremiah to fear even though he will be running headlong into difficult circumstances.


He does have a bit of a hard time, by the way. Jeremiah has to speak out against Jerusalem for their worship of idols and false prophets and other violations of God’s covenant with the chosen people. He acurately predicts the fall of Jerusalem—which is not music to anybody’s ears. Inevitably, doing God’s work puts him at odds with just about everybody, including his own family and prevents him from marrying or starting a family of his own. Like Jesus, he finds out that it is hard to be accepted as a prophet in your own hometown. Jeremiah becomes known as the “weeping prophet” and gets mad at God frequently. He suffers so much that he wishes he’d never been born.


Despite it all, however, Jeremiah stands firm. He continues to boldly proclaim the words God gives to him (yes, God gives him the words as promised). And, indeed, he is not destroyed by those who oppose him. God’s promise to deliver him also remains good.


This is good news since God has promised each of us the same thing. We are pretty good at grumbling like our ancestors in the faith. We are all too quick to admit our inadequacies and claim that we’re not up for the job. Yet God won’t let us off the hook. I formed you, God says to you and me. I knew you. I set you apart. I appointed you.


What does that mean to you? As people of faith, we believe that God has called us and that there is a specific use for the gifts we possess. We are incredibly special. God does not want us to shrink from our responsibility. We are called to go forth in faith despite our doubts and anger. We each have the potential to make a huge difference and God has plans for us.


And just what is plan—that mission—God wants us to accomplish? I think contemporary author Parker Palmer, explains it quite well in this statement:


“The mission of the church is not to enlarge its membership, not to bring outsiders to accept its terms, but simply to love the world in every possible way—to love the world as God did and does.…If we are able to love the world, that will be the best demonstration of the truth which the church has been given.”


Yes, we are called to love and not just a little. We are to love with all that is within us. And why not? As we read in I Corinthians, without love we are just a clanging gong with no purpose at all. In the end, love is the most important thing we can do with our lives. My family is still in the process of deciding what to do with my mom’s things. As I sort through her possessions, I am more and more aware of how insignificant they are. They are just things. What is important is the love she gave us. That’s what counts. Life is short. How we live it matters a lot.


And so we are given a choice. Will we answer God’s call? Will we allow ourselves to be mouthpieces of the divine? Will we believe in God’s power so fiercely that it overcomes our fear of failure? Will we trust that God is always with us to deliver us? Will we be the hands of Jesus reaching out to love the world?


I invite you to answer these questions by singing the hymn of the day: “Here I am, Lord.”


© 2010 Laura E. Gentry


Sunday, January 24, 2010

EAT OF THE FAT, DRINK OF THE WINE

A Sermon for the Third Sunday in Epiphany

Pastor Laura Gentry

Nehemiah 8:1-10


When we take a look at our church’s prayer list, we can see that in our own community people are facing some extremely difficult things. Their pain, their suffering, their heartache is all too real.


Unfortunately, this is nothing new for the people of God. In our first lesson from Nehemiah today, we hear Ezra addressing a heartbroken congregation. Their land—the holy land promised to their ancestors by God himself—has been vehemently sacked by pagan invaders. How awful, how unbelievable, how humiliating is that? It becomes one of the most traumatic events in Jewish history. Many are forced off their land to go live in exile. When they eventually do get to return nearly 50 years later, they are still under foreign occupation. This time, it is the Persians, who unlike the Babylonians, allow the Jews limited freedom of religion. They can rebuild their temple but there is so much rebuilding to do that it seems impossible. Even the prophet Nehemiah gets depressed. He weeps, mourns, fasts and prays for days. But then he takes action and rallies the faithful to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.


In today’s passage, the people gather after this rebuilding effort to hear Ezra read from the law of Moses. This is not a short reading like a the hour-long-church-service-format we’re accustomed to today. No, he reads to them from early morning until midday. The exile-survivors who hear it have a new understanding of the Mosaic law and how they had transgressed it as a nation. They are overwhelmed with grief. They weep and fall onto their faces to worship God.


Then Nehemiah says: “This day is holy to the Lord; do not mourn or weep,” because that’s exactly what they are doing as he says this. “Go, eat of the fat, drink of the wine, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”


And POOF! They do it. Off they go to have a great big festival where they will indeed, eat, drink and send portions to those in need.


But wait a minute, that’s crazy! They are just a remnant of what they used to be as a nation. Even now with their return and the city walls rebuilt, they are hurting, grieving, facing insurmountable odds. Now they are supposed to just prance off and have a party because “the joy of the Lord” is their strength? You have to understand that there is nothing sensible or logical about this bit of advise at all. It is ridiculous. How can God expect them to be happy at a time like this?


We can certainly wonder about this today. All the bad news keeps coming at us through the news sources 24 hours a day: one disaster after another, political disagreements, economic woes. It never stops. And all this on top of our own problems! Depression runs rampant. In fact, the World Health Organization rates depression as the fourth greatest cause of human suffering and disability in the world. How can God expect us to be happy at a time like this? And yet God does. We are commanded to eat of the fat and drink of the wine, and share it generously for the joy of the Lord is our strength. That’s the message of this scripture. The joy is OURS. It is for our time and place as much as it was for the ancient people of God.


"The greatest honor we can give Almighty God," wrote the English mystic Juliana of Norwich, "is to live gladly because of the knowledge of his love." No matter how bleak our personal circumstances or the state of the world, God’s love is more powerful. That’s why God commands us to be joyful. It is not that God is being insensitive to our plight or somehow doesn’t understand how bad things are for us. No, we are expected to be happy because our faith informs us that the joy of the Lord will blossom even in the desert of our lives. To be happy, therefore, is a sign of faith. It is, after all, a fruit of the Spirit.


The French Nobel laureate AndrĂ© Gide (1869–1951) wrote: "Joy is rarer, more difficult, and more beautiful than sadness. Once you make this all-important discovery, you must embrace joy as a moral obligation." A moral obligation? Have you ever thought of joy as being that important? Well, scripture tells us that it is.


So does science. In 2008, the findings of a 20 year study were released. They reported that happiness is contagious. Nicholas Christakis, a professor of medical sociology at Harvard Medical School in Boston and James Fowler, a political scientist at the University of California, San Diego teamed up to do this study. The results were amazing. They showed that your happiness affects others. If you are happy, in fact, your friends are 15% more likely to be happy! That means that you make a difference even if you don’t realize it.


And not only are your friends affected by your happiness—your friends’ friends are too. If you are happy, your friends’ friends are 10% more likely to be happy. And even the next degree is affected. If you are happy, your friends’ friends’ friends are 6% more likely to be happy. That means your happiness goes out at least as far as third-degree-removed friends. Incredible!


This is important because happiness has measurable benefits. It has been shown to have an important effect on reduced mortality, pain reduction, and improved cardiac function. Health and happiness are inextricably linked.


Interestingly, there was a study done in 1984 that found having an additional income of $5,000 increased a person’s change of becoming happier by about 2%. Now if a happy friend increases our chance of being happy by 15%, then you could estimate that a happy friend is worth over $37,000. Wouldn’t it be great if you were so rich that you could just run around and give each of your friends $37,000 without even denting your pocketbook? Well, you can give them the equivalent boost by being happy.


No wonder André Gide said it is a moral imperative to be joyful! We need to be joyful not just for our own sake, but for the sake of others. We can bless the world through our own faith-filled joy.


Yes, God speaks to us today through the words of Nehemiah: “Go, eat of the fat, drink of the wine, and send portions to him who has nothing prepared; for this day is holy to our Lord. Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.”


Let us pray:
God of Love, we believe that you give to us the fruit of Joy and that it is our strength, especially in difficult times. Even so, it is not easy to live in this joy and to spread it to those in our lives. Transform our sorrow into gladness, we pray, that we may live as you want us to live—being radiant over your goodness all our lives. Help us to celebrate and share your love always. Amen.


© 2010 Laura Gentry