Category: Christian Discipleship

A Room Called Remember, Deuteronomy 8:1-2, 7-18

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

Note: I’m a little late getting this Memorial Day Message posted, but remembering whose we are and who helped get us where we are is not a seasonal activity.

Remembering is a funny thing isn’t it? I have no trouble remembering who won the 1975 World Series but I constantly forget where I left my glasses 5 minutes ago. I have to put lists in my smart phone to remind me where I’m going and what I’m supposed to buy – but I have to be smart enough to take the phone with me to make that work. I remember laughing a few years ago at an older friend who walked into a meeting and pulled up the calendar on his phone or whatever that thing was that came before smart phones. When I asked him if he was looking up where he was supposed to go next, he said, “No, I’m trying to figure out where I am now.” Not as funny when it happens to me.

One of my favorite authors and theologians, Frederick Buechner, tells of a dream where he was in a hotel room where he experience pleasant memories that gave him a deep sense of peace and joy that he had never experienced elsewhere. As his dream went on, Beuchner said he wandered off to other places and adventures and then returned to the same hotel but was given a different room where he felt uncomfortable, dark and cramped. So he went down to the front desk and told the clerk about the wonderful room he had earlier. He said he would very much like to have that room again, but he had failed to keep track of where it was and didn’t know how to ask for it. The clerk said he knew exactly which room it was and that Beuchner could have it again anytime he wanted it if he would ask for it by name. The name of the room he said was “Remember.”

Memorial Day is a good time to visit the room called remember. When I was a child living in a small town where all my relatives lived and most of my ancestors were buried, we called this holiday Decoration Day – because it was a day to go visit cemeteries and decorate the graves of loved ones with flags and flowers. We’ve lost that tradition for a lot of reasons – families are spread out too much geographically and we’re all busier than ever. But some of our reluctance to visit graveyards is because we don’t want to face our own mortality. Not too many generations ago there were cemeteries next door to most churches, and it’s too bad they’re gone. Walking by a graveyard on your way to worship is a great way to put life into perspective.

I actually like cemeteries – they are peaceful, quiet places, like the room called remember, and like that room, they are important places to visit, but not a place you can homestead – you can’t live there.
Our text from Deuteronomy 8 is a call to remember. The Hebrew people are at a crossroads, a time of great transition, a time of joy as they are about to enter the long, long-awaited promised land after 40 years of wandering and suffering hardships in the wilderness. The verses we read today are part of a long lecture/sermon that Moses gives to his people in preparation for their new life in the Promised Land. He gives them the 10 commandments in chapter 5 and then goes on at great length to remind them and warn them about why they should not only remember God’s commandments but actually keep them, especially in the midst of their new-found prosperity. Moses knew how humans tend to call on God a lot when things are desperate, but when life is good, not so much. He repeats the refrain for emphasis, “Remember the long way the Lord has led you;” Take care that you do not forget the Lord your God;” “Remember the Lord your God.”

Sometimes we don’t visit the room called remember because there are painful memories there too. The old Frank Sinatra song says, “Regrets, I’ve had a few.” I think old blue eyes was using his selective memory if he only had a few regrets. I knew a woman once who lost her adolescent son in a tragic car accident, and one of the ways she dealt with her grief was to keep his room as a shrine – to the point that she refused to change anything about the way the room looked the day he left – even to the point of not picking up the dirty clothes he had left on the floor. This went on for years. Getting stuck in the past is like driving all the time looking in the rear view mirror.

A precocious 8 year old in a Sunday school class was waving her hand eagerly to make a comment after that day’s Bible lesson on the story where Lot’s wife disobeyed the commandment not to look back as they were fleeing from the destruction of Sodom. When the teacher got to the point where Lot’s wife looked back and was turned into a pillar of salt he asked little Sally what she wanted to say. She said, “I understand this story.” Not knowing enough to quit while he was ahead, the teacher asked, “And how do you know about this story, Sally.” “Oh, she said, “My dad was driving down the street the other day and he looked back, and he turned into a telephone pole.”

We need times to look back and remember – holidays, anniversaries of significant events, past mistakes and accomplishments – we need times and places, sanctuaries, safe places to remember the history of God’s saving grace, but we can’t dwell in the past.

George Santayana is famous for saying that “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” We sometimes forget that Memorial Day is not just a holiday to celebrate the beginning of summer, but is a time to honor those who have made great sacrifices to preserve our freedom and in Lincoln’s famous words at Gettysburg, “gave their last full measure of devotion.” For me the Viet Nam Memorial in Washington is one of the most awe-filled, sacred rooms called remember I’ve ever visited. Honoring veterans is more than just remembering with flowers, flags and white crosses, however. It means providing for the emotional and physical needs of those damaged by the ravages of war so we know longer have homeless veterans suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome living on the streets and under bridges. Honoring veterans means learning the lessons of history that teach us that violence and war have rarely ever led to real peace. Honoring our Vets means rededicating ourselves as Christians to be followers of the prince of peace so God’s vision of a time when we can beat our swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks is more than just a vision.

The room called remember is a place for reflection and mid-course corrections. When a space craft is launched toward the moon or Mars or some distant planet just an error of a degree or two can result in missing the destination by thousands of miles or even light years; so mid-course corrections and adjustments have to be made regularly. Remembering who we are and whose we are and adjusting our life goals and directions regularly to keep our purpose in focus is a critical part of discipleship.

One of my mentors gave me some priceless advice several years ago that brings remembering down to the bottom line practical level. He was leading a personal growth workshop and the topic was dealing with regrets and forgiveness so we can move forward. I’m sure you don’t do this, but some of us do – when something goes wrong we want to find someone to blame; or when we succeed we’d like to take all the credit. My mentor said there are only three questions we need to ask to evaluate a situation, no matter how good or bad the outcome may be. The three questions are simply these: “What worked?” “What didn’t?” And “what next?”

Try them out – those three little two-word questions are priceless ways to learn from our past experience, let go of baggage that keeps one stuck in the past, and finding direction for the future. And as well as they work as simple human questions, they work even better as a prayer.

Frederick Beuchner says one of the reasons we don’t visit the room called remember very often is that we are escape artists. We are masters of distraction – turn on the TV, play video games, surf the net or social media on our many electronic devices. We do that sometimes to avoid painful memories. Barbra Streisand sang the theme song from an old movie called “The Way We Were.” The song appropriately is called “Memories,” and part of the lyrics say “What’s too painful to remember we simply choose to forget, for it’s the laughter we were after, whenever we remember.” Selective memory is sometimes a useful thing but we may learn more from painful unvarnished truth, and the good news, contrary to what Jack Nicholson says, is that with God’s help we can handle the truth.

Memorial Day is often a time of remembering not just veterans but other loved ones who are no longer with us. Katrina talked last week about finding the Paul in our lives, our mentor, and remembering is a great way to honor those who have helped us get to where we are today. The Hebrews got thru the wilderness to the Promised Land because of God’s guidance but also through the leadership and persistence of Moses and Joshua and I’m sure countless other women and men. Take time this weekend to remember and give thanks for your guides and mentors.
One of the advantages of having lots of years of life experience is that we have more memories to draw upon. Another old song from my memory bank is one by Helen Reddy called “You and Me Against the World.” In part the lyrics say:
“You and me against the world, sometimes it seems like you and me against the world.
And for all the times we’ve cried I always felt that God was on our side. And when one of us is gone, and one of us is left to carry on, then remembering will have to do, our memories alone will get us through.”

That’s part of Moses’ message to the Hebrews and to us – when the going gets tough and the memories are painful, remember that God is on our side and our memories of God’s mercy and the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us will get us through.

There’s was another holiday unique to United Methodists just yesterday– Aldersgate Day. Does that ring any bells from confirmation class? May 24, 1738 – John Wesley, one of the founders of Methodism, found himself despondent because his enthusiastic gospel message had been rejected by his Anglican church, of which he was a priest. He had made a failed mission trip to America; the love of his life had broken up with him. His faith was at low ebb. His journal entry for that May 24 says, Heavy-hearted, he went to an evening society meeting on Aldersgate Street in London “very unwillingly.” It was there, while someone was reading from Martin Luther’s Preface to the Epistle to the Romans that he felt that his heart was “strangely warmed.” He describes it as: “I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that he had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.”

The room called remember for Christians is full of those kinds of stories about God’s redemptive love. The God who led the Hebrews through the wilderness is the same God who turns Saul into Paul, who redeems the adulterous murderer named David, who blesses Sarah and Deborah, Ruth and Mary. I had a young person in a Bible Study one day who had discovered some of those juicy stories in the Hebrew Scriptures about incest and deceit, polygamy and pomposity – you know the stories you don’t usually hear about in Sunday School. The ones that tell us old Jacob had his 12 sons by 4 different women and was only married to two of them!!! This young woman looked at me rather skeptically and said, “Steve, what are those people doing in the Bible? They aren’t very good people!” I ask myself that question many days when I look in the mirror. It’s like asking why Jesus ate with sinners – because if he didn’t he would always have to eat alone.

Remembering the history of God’s redemption of the flawed, fallible human beings in the scriptures and in church history is good news because it means God’s amazing grace can forgive even us and use us to carry on the work of Christ. The God who led the wilderness wandering Hebrews to the Promised Land is still going before us to show us the way if we remember who we are and whose we are. It may feel some days like “it’s you and me against the world,” but it isn’t. We are never alone. Not in the wilderness or the grave yard. Not on the mountain top or in the valley of despair.

So I invite you to make time this weekend, whatever your plans for this holiday may be, to visit the room called remember. It is a place of peace that passes all human understanding. Give thanks there to the God who has brought you through whatever twists and turns your life has been, through times of hardship and prosperity, joy and pain. Give thanks for those who have gone before us, sacrificed for us, and loved us when we didn’t or couldn’t love ourselves. Draw eternal strength from both the good and painful memories, and then trust the creator and sustainer of us all to lead you onward to create memories and new paths for others to follow.

Memorial Day, 2014, Northwest United Methodist Church, Columbus, Ohio

Ends and Means?

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

A few weeks ago I had one of those “did he really say that?” conversations with a clergy colleague. We were discussing a news story about Baptist churches in Kentucky and New York that were advertising they would be giving away door prizes to entice new people to attend their church.

Apparently forgiveness and salvation aren’t reward enough to get some people through the church doors since many churches have tried similar gimmicks. There was a church in Columbus, Ohio a few years ago giving away a car on Easter. Sure beats the coffee mug, cheap pen and refrigerator magnets our church offers as welcome gifts.
What got my attention about the Baptist churches’ promotion was that they were promising to give an AR-15 and other guns to the lucky winners of their door prizes. The church in Troy, NY even went so far as to quote John 14:27 (“…my peace I give to you”) over a picture of a semi-automatic rifle! To make matters worse, the churches in Kentucky were in Paducah – where three students were killed during a school shooting in 1997. Really, you can’t make stuff like this up!

Foolishly assuming that most followers of the Prince of Peace and certainly most pastors would agree that this was a really bad idea, I made a comment to my colleague about how absurd, if not blasphemous, this was. His response blew me away. He said, “Well, we wouldn’t do that in my church, but if that’s what it takes to appeal to the target (Freudian slip?) audience in that community, then it might be OK.” I was too dumbfounded to respond.

When I relayed the conversation to another friend, his immediate reply was, “No it’s not OK. A stripper would attract some people to church too, but that wouldn’t make it right.” Churches that start acting like businesses are in danger of selling their souls along with their “products.” Marketing strategies are fraught with ethical dilemmas in any business, but certainly the church must hold itself to a higher standard than Wall Street or Main Street when it comes to promoting the Gospel. When churches or any institution fall prey to the temptations of growth and institutional preservation as the primary motivation for what we do and say, we are on the slippery slope of believing that any means are justified if they achieve an honorable end.

It is no secret that mainline churches are in trouble. Membership and attendance figures have been in a steep decline for decades, and that reality can convince otherwise good people to compromise their ethical standards and fall into a panic mode of self-preservation. It is an inherent danger to institutional religion. Institutions almost always have a primary value of preserving and maintaining themselves. Institutional leaders have a vested interest in looking successful and maintaining their livelihood that can cloud objectivity. And the more dire the statistics become the greater the danger. Desperate people do desperate things, like giving deadly weapons to people instead of “beating their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” (Isaiah 2:4, Micah 4:3)

Yes, these are scary times, and I understand why individuals want to protect themselves and why churches want to keep themselves alive. And I know all motives for what we do are mixed. I’m sure those Baptist churches have a genuine desire to share the gospel along with the guns. Self-preservation is a very basic human motivation, but Christians are called to measure the means we use to achieve our means by the higher standards of the one who said, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it” (Luke 9:24).

“A Borrower and a Lender Be,” A Holy Week Sermon on Matthew 21:1-13

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values, Lectionary Texts

Suppose you went out to get in your car at the mall or after church next Sunday or even in your driveway and a couple of strangers were looking it over. When you ask them what they’re doing they say, “Please give us your keys.” I’m guessing the first question you would ask is, “Why?” And when they say, “Because the Lord has need of it,” would you just hand over the keys or would you more likely call the cops?

That’s what the Gospels tell us Jesus did to “borrow” a donkey in preparation for his Palm Sunday entry into Jerusalem. We are so familiar with the Holy Week narratives that we often fail to grasp the radical nature of what this story tells us about Jesus and what got him crucified. John Robert McFarland grabbed my attention on this matter in an article in The Christian Century way back in 1990 entitled “Go Steal Me a Donkey.”

This is not Sweet Little Jesus holding lambs and children in his arms. Healing the sick and loving people don’t get you crucified, but challenging the political and economic foundations that society is built upon will get one in a lot of hot water immediately. These verses from Matthew 21 are bookended by donkey stealing and Jesus physically turning over tables in the temple and driving the money changers out because they have claimed what belongs to God for their own purposes. This Jesus is not a wimp. He is one with the courage to challenge anyone and anything that is contrary to God’s wills and to pay the price for his convictions.

Tax day in the US fell within Holy Week this year, and that makes looking at Jesus’ theology of economics even more real. In “Go Steal Me a Donkey” McFarland points out that both socialists and capitalists claim Jesus, but he isn’t either. The former believe in collective ownership of property and the latter in individual ownership. Jesus believes everything belongs to God. In the very next chapter of Matthew (22:15-22) the Pharisees challenge Jesus on the tax issue. They try to trap him with a question about whether it is legal to pay taxes to Caesar. Jesus gives a clever politically correct answer. He says, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” That sounds like a safe answer, but Jesus’ actions tell us he knows the bottom line on his 1040 for the IRS would be a big fat zero.

Would he get audited? You bet, but he would do it anyway. Why would he do that knowing the trouble it would cause? Because he knows everything belongs to God, including donkeys and upper rooms in which to celebrate the Passover. Jesus borrows what he needs because it all belongs to God. There’s an old adage about borrowing that is so familiar we often think it should be in the Bible. But “neither a borrower nor a lender be” is not biblical. It actually comes from Polonius in “Hamlet,” not Jesus. In fact, what Jesus says about borrowing and lending is a direct contraction of Shakespeare. “Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you” (Matt. 5:42). “If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again” (Luke 6:34).

Jesus borrows: a manger for a cradle, boats to teach in, houses to heal in, and a tomb to be buried in. He doesn’t ask for what he needs, he commands. When he borrows his disciples, he says, “Come, follow me, Now!” No time to bury the dead. Do they leave their families and their livelihood in exchange for some promise of great wealth and fame? No, he says, “Take up your cross and follow me.” When he borrows Peter and Andrew from their fishing nets, when James and John leave their father Zebedee in his boat, when Levi leaves the tax office, do you think Jesus plans on returning them? When you borrow a cup of sugar to bake a cake, do take the sugar out of the cake and return it? I hope we don’t return a used Kleenex after we “borrow” it! When Jesus claims us followers and disciples, there’s no turning back. It’s for keeps, because everything, including you and me, belongs to God–always has, always will.

That’s the bad news. What we think is ours isn’t. We are just stewards and caretakers of what belongs to God, and what’s worse is that selfishly trying to cling to what is “ours” will keep us out of the Kingdom of God. That’s why Jesus says it is harder for a rich person to enter the kingdom than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. It’s why Pope Francis is cracking down on Bishops who build multi-million dollar mansions for themselves while millions starve.

But here’s the good news. We can borrow freely from God whatever we need in life. God gives us Jesus as an example of what that ultimate borrowing of things that really matter in life looks like; and Holy Week is the best example ever of how that works. We see it demonstrated throughout Jesus’ ministry, but it is concentrated in those final days of his life between Palm Sunday and Good Friday. We’ve seen it when Jesus is napping in the boat during a storm. His disciples are freaking out, but Jesus is sound asleep because he has borrowed the peace of God. When those same disciples try to talk him into homesteading on the mountain of Transfiguration where it’s safe and comfortable, Jesus borrows the courage from God to set his face toward Jerusalem and the cross; and he never looks back.

When he is confronted with physical violence and arrest in Jerusalem, he borrows the peace of God again not to resist violence with more violence. His prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane is not for his own safety and comfort, but he borrows integrity and obedience from God as he prays “Not my will but your will be done.” And then on that dark Friday afternoon, the supreme gift of grace is borrowed again when he says, “Father forgive them” to the men who have nailed him to that cruel cross. Jesus doesn’t say, “I forgive you,” and that’s significant. In mortal agony from those wounds, I believe it was humanly impossible for that amazing compassion to come from Jesus himself, just as it is often impossible for us to forgive those who hurt us badly. Jesus couldn’t forgive them, but he knew someone who could–and that he was free to borrow that strength and grace from his God.

We know that source of grace as well, and we are invited to borrow from that eternal God whenever and wherever we want with no interest and no expectation to repay the debt. The borrowing Messiah of Holy Week teaches us that when we are free of possessions that possess us, when we are free of fears and insecurities from the cares of trying to control our own lives, then we are free to live and free to die. Because we know everything belongs to God, including us, now and forever. Holy Week and Easter invite us again to borrow the gift of grace, the gift of new life.

Adapted from a sermon preached at New Life United Methodist Church, Columbus, OH, Palm Sunday 2014.

“Prince of Peace,” Isaiah 9:6-7, John 14:25-27

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

The “Prince of Peace” is a phrase that only appears once in Scripture, in Isaiah 9:7, a passage we often hear at Christmas time. Isaiah tells us that God’s Messiah is named “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Those words are very well known because of their inclusion in George Frederic Handel’s famous oratorio “Messiah.” It is tempting to sing those few bars of the Hallelujah Chorus, but I will refrain since I remember some advice I received many years ago when preaching my final sermon at another church. Most of us are familiar with the phrase “Swan Song” that is used to describe a farewell performance. But what my friend told me on that occasion was where the phrase “swan song” comes from. It comes from the fact that swans sing before they die, and my former friend suggested to me that it is better if some people die before they sing. In my case that is good advice.

We all want peace in our world and in our lives, and Isaiah’s words remind us that the Judeo-Christian scriptures have been promising a messiah bringing peace to the world for over 3600 years. Isaiah says “His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore.” (9:7)

In spite of that wonderful promise, we don’t seem to be getting any closer to a peaceful world. We feel like little kids in the back seat asking incessantly, “are we there yet?” And we’ve been asking so long that we are often tempted to just give up on peace– and that would be the most tragic outcome of all.

God’s persistent vision of peace is a dream that will not die and Lent is a time for every follower of the Prince of Peace to recommit ourselves to following his example in how we live our lives. But we have to be realistic. Creating world peace is too big a job for any of us to take on, and we can easily get discouraged and give up. No matter how much we want to, we can’t solve the conflict between the Russians and the Ukranians. We witness more and more death and destruction in Syria and Iraq and Afghanistan and on the streets of American cities every day. We desperately want peace, but what can we do to make a difference in a world that seems bent on destruction?

We know the ingredients that make for peace: Mercy, humility, compassion, empathy, and forgiveness. But knowing those words alone isn’t enough. So God gives us Jesus, the Prince of Peace, to show us and teach us what those words mean. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus directly challenges the old ways that have failed repeatedly to bring peace. He says “You have heard it said an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, but I say to you, love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you…turn the other cheek.” He says “blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5).

But Jesus doesn’t just talk a good game, he models for us how peacemakers live. He doesn’t just say to forgive your enemies; he does it, even while hanging on the cross in mortal agony. He doesn’t just preach humility and meekness; he refuses to call on God when he could have called down God’s might to spare him from the cross. He doesn’t ask God for reinforcements to defend himself from the arresting soldiers in the Garden of Gethsemane; he says, “Not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). And when one of his disciples draws a sword and lops off an ear of a high priest’s slave, Jesus not only heals the slave, he explicitly tells the disciple to put away his sword because “those who live by the sword will die by the sword” (Matt. 26:52). Because Jesus was at peace he could live it, even under the fear of death itself. Nobody ever promised it would be easy. Nothing important ever is.

One important question for peacemakers is how to deal with anger. Anger is a natural human emotion, and because he was human Jesus got angry too. At least four times, the Gospels tell us he called the Scribes and Pharisees a “brood of vipers” (Matt. 3:7, 12:34, 23:33, Luke 3:7), and in his most angry moment overturned the tables and drove the money changers out of the temple because he said they had turned it into a den of thieves (Matt. 21, Mark 11, John 2).

Is that the most effective way to deal with conflict? Not really, and Jesus knew that, which is why that scene stands out, because it was so atypical of Jesus’ normal style and demeanor. Much more Christ-like is the advice in Ephesians 4:15 which says, “speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him who is the head, even Christ.” In order to do that we have to suspend our judgment and anger and meet people where they are, even if we really don’t like going there. To grow into Christ, we must learn to understand why people do stupid, hurtful stuff. Peacemakers remember that everyone is dealing with their own brokenness and burdens. Empathy and compassion are the foundations of living peacefully. Yes, I didn’t say this was easy, just necessary.

But we often fall into a 3 year-old mentality when we get into a conflict. Many times I remember as a child telling my mother when I was caught in a battle with my sisters, “They started it!” “She hit me first!” Only in later years did I learn to appreciate my mother’s wisdom. She would say, “I don’t care who started it; you can stop it.” Anyone can start a fight, but peacemakers are those who rise above their emotions and figuratively turn the other cheek. Otherwise the cycle of anger just repeats and often escalates.
Another common mistake we make in dealing with conflict is to ignore it and hope it will go away. As I know from decades of personal experience, it never does, it just gets worse. The scriptures are loaded with stories of people like Jonah, Elijah, Moses, even St. Paul who try to flee from God’s call because it seems easier than facing conflict and trouble. But peacemakers are like first responders who run toward trouble while others run away. Fleeing from conflict might seem easier in the short run, but it’s not. The Prince of Peace is our example. He doesn’t run from the cross waiting for him on Calvary or let his friends talk him out of doing what he must do. He sets his face toward Jerusalem and never looks back.

Here’s the bad news about conflict. Change and conflict go together like a horse and carriage, and change, along with death and taxes, is one of the constants in life. The Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, captured that truth centuries ago when he said, “You can’t step in same river twice.” It may look the same, but the water that is flowing by here in the Scioto River today will be well on its way to the Ohio River if you go back to the same place tomorrow. Everything in creation is in a constant state of flux – every being is either growing or dying – there is no static point of being. A tree is growing as long as it is alive – but as soon as it is cut down to become lumber for a home or furniture, it begins to decay. The same is true of God’s peace. We are either growing and moving toward a more peaceful way of life, or we are sliding backward into darkness. And we all choose every minute of every day which side we are on by the way we treat each other.

One reason peace is so illusive is that God’s ways are not our ways. We humans confuse power with peace. As someone has said, we keep looking for Rambo or some other super hero and God sends us Gandhi. The Prince of Peace doesn’t ride into Jerusalem like a conquering hero on a white stallion. If Jesus comes to town this Palm Sunday, he won’t arrive in a stretch limo but in a beat up VW bug. He is a suffering servant, obedient to what is required and right, even when it’s hard.

Jesus shows us that it takes great courage to be a peacemaker. It’s much easier to be a bully and get your own way, but those who choose that path will never be at peace. True peace can never come by the ways of force. History teaches us that oppressors always lose in the long run because coercion is not God’s way, and what is not in harmony with the will of God cannot long endure.

That’s why Jesus reminds his disciples in his swan song before his arrest that his peace is not the world’s peace. John 14:25-27 says, “I have said these things to you while I am still with you. 26 But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Unlike the world’s peace, God’s peace is a deeper eternal peace that stays the course when every fiber of your being wants to flee or fight. God’s peace is not about personal safety or comfort, or success measured by the world’s standards. Real peace comes only from total trust and obedience to will of God.

One sermon I most remember preaching was on September 23, 2001 just 12 days after the 9/11 attacks. The text I resisted for days but felt compelled to preach on that day was from Matthew 5, a part of the Sermon on the Mount, where Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” The title of the sermon was “How Can We Ever Do That?” And the answer is we can’t, but God can. That kind of love comes only from God’s peace, which passes all human understanding.

That kind of peace is not human peace, but the king’s peace, and it’s not King David we’re talking about but the real King. Isaiah refers to the Messiah as the prince of peace and not the king of peace. Why is that? Because God is the only true king and the son of the king is the prince. One key to Jesus’ inner peace is that he knows who he is; he is the prince of peace, not the king. He knows his place and doesn’t let power go to his head, but trusts in the only real power there is.

We can go back to the text from Isaiah to sum this up.
Isaiah says “His authority shall grow continually,and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.”

The text clearly states that God’s wants there to be endless peace, but if you know the history of Israel, you know that David’s grandsons only two generations later destroyed the peace and David’s kingdom by reverting back to the world’s ways and not God’s. So how could Isaiah be as wrong as a weather forecaster? He’s not, and to understand why he isn’t wrong we have to look very carefully at the last verse of that passage. “Forevermore” is not a human concept. Only the eternal God can do forevermore, and that’s why the last line says not a human ruler, but “the zeal of the Lord of Hosts will do this.” And if we remember that Jesus is a descendent of King David we realize that in the long run it is very true that His Kingdom is forever.

In a few weeks we will again relive the passion of Jesus during Holy Week. As you hear those stories again this year, I urge you to pay attention to the contrast between the Roman Governor Pilate and Jesus. Pilate condemns Jesus to death and thinks he has finally solved the Jesus problem for the Romans and the Jewish authorities, right? But we know better. Pilate doesn’t win that battle in the long run, the Prince of Peace does.

That risen Lord has left us with the Great commission to go and make disciples. And as the Prince of Peace he has shown us that a major part of our job description is to be peacemakers, the ones who are called the children of God.

The prayer of St. Francis is one of the best descriptions of a peacemaker ever written.
“Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” AMEN.

Preached at Jerome UMC, March 30, 2014, as my final sermon before retiring.

Life Lessons I Didn’t Learn in Class

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

Overhearing the Gospel is a great title for a book on preaching by Fred Craddock. Craddock argues that an indirect and subtle approach to hearing the difficult truth of the Christian Gospel is often the most effective method of communication. It’s why Jesus relied so heavily on parables to share his truth. Stories have a way of bypassing prejudices and ideology by touching hearers at a deeper level than purely rational arguments can do. Stories personalize concepts and appeal to emotion and morality in a holistic way that is more persuasive than a more direct imperative approach.

That’s why listeners who first heard Jesus urge them to “love their enemies” or “turn the other cheek” probably said, “You’ve got to be kidding!” But when convicted by the truth of the Good Samaritan story, even the lawyer who started out planning to “test” Jesus had to admit the real neighbor in the story was not the religious leaders, as one would expect The surprise hero of that parable is the hated enemy from Samaria who showed compassion on the man who was mugged and left for dead by robbers on the road to Jericho. (See Luke 10:25-37).

I learned some great life lessons via the indirect approach 50 years ago in high school. Blessed with a good memory, I was always a “good” student, which simply means I knew how to play the education game well and regurgitate answers that teachers wanted to hear on tests. But I realized recently that some values I learned in “extra-curricular” activities were far more important than any quadratic equations I solved or verbs I learned to conjugate. The irony is that the lessons I value most from my high school education came from our choral music teacher, Walter Kehres. What makes it ironic is that I cannot and never have been able to carry a tune in a bucket. I am also not very technologically or mechanically gifted; so I don’t remember how I ended up as one of the students asked to run the light board in our school auditorium, but I’m very grateful I did.

As part of the stage crew I had a priceless opportunity to participate in two major musical productions. To explain the value of that experience I need to set some historical context. I attended high school in a small, conservative rural Ohio community from 1960-1964 during a time of great tension and change in American history. My wife and I recently saw the excellent movie, “The Butler,” that is yet another example of the power of narrative. The film covers the history of the Civil Rights Movement from Eisenhower to Obama, and was a painful reminder to me of how isolated and unaware of what was happening in our own country I was in my youth.

That isolation was a function of the culture and ideology that defined my community and my education. For racism to be addressed directly as part of our academic curriculum would have been met with strong opposition from the community. That’s why the indirect approach to controversial issues was necessary and effective. I will never know for sure if addressing social justice issues like racism and multiculturalism even factored into our music director’s decision when he was choosing the shows to be performed each year. I hope it was, but what I do know is that my junior year our big musical production for the year was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s great musical “South Pacific.”

Here’s how Wikipedia describes “South Pacific:” “It centers on an American nurse stationed on a South Pacific island during World War II who falls in love with a middle-aged expatriate French plantation owner but struggles to accept his mixed-race children. A secondary romance, between a U.S. lieutenant and a young Tonkinese woman explores his fears of the social consequences should he marry his Asian sweetheart. The issue of racial prejudice is candidly explored throughout the musical, most controversially in the lieutenant’s song, “You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught”.”

Here are the lyrics to that prophetic song:
“You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear, you’ve got to be taught from year to year, it’s got to be drummed in your dear little ear, you’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught to be afraid of people whose eyes are oddly made, and people whose skin is a diff’rent shade, you’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late, before you are six or seven or eight, to hate all the people your relatives hate, You’ve got to be carefully taught!”

Had that message about racism and an inter-racial couple been preached from any pulpit or taught in any classroom in my hometown it would never have been tolerated by anyone, including me. But hearing those words sung dozens of time in rehearsals and performances in the context of a “story” sneaked them past the censors and filters in my head. The words and emotions of that great show are so memorable that 50 years later, I can still sing most of the score to this day (fear not, only in the shower).

I have no idea if that production affected anyone else the way it did me, and the message was so subtle, or I was so obtuse, that I didn’t realize until recently what am impact it had on me, even though I’ve quoted “Carefully Taught” in numerous sermons and classes over the years. In that high school auditorium when I thought I was just running a light board, seeds of tolerance and social justice were planted in my head and heart that slowly began to germinate. That made me open to more direct messages and experiences about racial equality in the very formative years of my formal and informal education that followed.

I don’t know if Walter Kehres, our music director, is still living or not, but wherever he is, I send a very belated thank you from one of the most non-musical students whose life you helped change forever.

“The Power of Persistence” Luke 18:1-8

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

I was reminded this week of the famous 1972 picture of Kim Phuc, a 9 year-old girl running naked from a Napalm explosion in Viet Nam. She was naked because she had ripped off her burning clothes and was fleeing for her life. She was badly burned, spent 14 months in the hospital and endured 17 surgeries over the next 12 years. Kim spoke in Columbus this week about her journey from that hell to the peace of forgiveness. Among other things, Kim says that it took her a very long time to forgive those responsible for the napalm burns she suffered as a child. She says it took a long time for the “black coffee cup” in her heart to clear. But she prayed every day and every day it became a little clearer. “And one day there was no more coffee left….My cup was empty. God helped me to refill it with light, peace, joy, compassion, understanding, love, patience and forgiveness.”

Kim Phuc’s witness sums up very well the theme of this third sermon in our series on prayer as making circles around God’s promises, i.e. praying hard and long through seasons of disappointment and pain. (This sermon is part of a series based on the book The Circle Maker by Mark Batterson.) In the legend of Honi the Circle Maker, his prayers for rain to end a drought in Israel are answered almost immediately, but what if it takes weeks or months or years for God’s promise of healing peace to become reality?

When prayers seem to be unanswered, many of us have had seasons in our lives when we would agree with the dying mother who told her son who is a pastor that she did not want the hymn “Sweet Hour of Prayer” sung at her funeral because the hour of prayer “is not always sweet.”

Another issue for me is what to pray for when the list of prayer concerns seems longer than the winter of 2014. I often feel selfish to pray for myself when there are so many other needs in the world – terrible suffering in places like Indonesia, Syria and Sudan or all the people without power in the frozen tundra from Georgia to Maine.
One big lesson of the Circle Maker book for me is that I often limit what I pray about for all the wrong reasons. Someone once said that God created humankind in God’s image, and we returned the favor. Because it’s hard to even imagine what God is truly like, we often think of God in human terms, and when we do that we fail to recognize the vastness of God’s power.

If God were like us trying to handle all our prayers it might look like a scene from the movie, “Bruce Almighty.” In the film, Bruce Nolan, played by Jim Carrey, complains that God is not treating him fairly and is given a chance to have God’s power and see if he can do a better job. Things are fine for Bruce when he uses his new powers to get his job back, romance his girlfriend and get revenge on some enemies. But then Bruce begins to get all the prayer requests that normally go to God. He is overwhelmed by hundreds of voices in his head, and God tells him that’s because the prayer requests are backing up on him because he is ignoring the needs of others. So Bruce tries several things to manage all the requests. First he imagines a filing system, but his whole apartment is quickly filled wall to wall with filing cabinets. Next he suggests putting all the prayer requests on post it notes, and immediately he, his dog, his girlfriend, and his entire home are covered in little yellow 3M sticky notes. Finally he creates a computer program to receive prayer requests and starts typing like a mad man to respond, but no matter how fast he types, he cannot keep up and still has over 3 million unanswered prayers in his in box. His solution is finally to just say “yes” to all the requests and make everybody happy. NOT.

The comical scene is a great reminder that God’s ways and God’s powers are not our ways. Our finite minds cannot comprehend the infinite and universal nature of God, and that means is that deciding if I should pray for either my own needs or for the needs of the entire world is a false choice. It’s not an either/or because God, unlike Bruce Almighty can handle any and all the prayers we can offer.

One thing we do know is that God, unlike Bruce, does not just says “yes” to all prayers. Persistent prayer doesn’t mean that all we have to do is ask what for we want and God will overnight it to us like Amazon.com! God knows better than that even if we don’t. A key premise of the Circle Maker is to draw circles around God’s promises, but to do that we must first discern what God truly promises. For example, we often misinterpret Jesus’ promise of an “abundant” life to mean material abundance. But anyone who looks carefully at how Jesus lived knows full well that the abundance he embodied and promised is not of this world at all. We wish Jesus promised us a Rose Garden, but the reality is that we all have to walk the lonesome valley of the Garden of Gethsemane just as he did. Jesus’ promise is not a bypass around suffering but his companionship and guidance with us every step of the way to eternal life.

We also need to be clear that persistence is not the same as stubbornness. If we fail to discern God’s true promises and keep praying for the wrong things our prayers become like wheels just spinning in the ice and snow going nowhere. The secret is listening to God so we know when the answer to a prayer is “no.” In II Corinthians 12 Paul prays three times for God to remove a “thorn in his flesh.” We never find out what the particular problem is, but what we do learn is that Paul clearly heard God’s response to his request and knew that God’s answer was a resounding “no.” So Paul moved on to much bigger things that God was calling him to devote his energies to– like taking the Gospel to Rome and to the rest of the world.

In our Scripture lesson today from Luke, we have a parable about a persistent woman who begs and pleads with an unjust judge so long that the judge finally grants her request just to get her off his back. A word of caution: if we read that text too quickly it might sound like all we have to do is nag God long enough and we’ll get whatever we want. We have to read the first and last lines of that passage carefully to understand what this parable tells us.

Luke says, ‘Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” He then tells the parable of the unjust judge and assures his listeners that God is far more just and compassionate than this judge. Verse 7 says, “And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will God delay long in helping them? I tell you, God will quickly grant justice to them.” God’s promise is justice. God is not like a vending machine that spits out whatever we ask for, but a God of justice. Like a loving parent God doesn’t grant every wish a child makes, but tempers requests with wisdom and love. A just God is concerned about what’s best for all of creation, and that means we can’t all have everything we want at the expense of others who also have needs.

There’s another reason we need to be persistent and patient when we pray: Luke tells us that God will QUICKLY grant justice. “Quickly” is a relative term, and we must remember that God’s time is not our time. If prayers for warmer weather were based on majority rule and granted quickly on our time frame, spring would have sprung weeks ago, right?

Luke saves the best line of that parable for the very end. After assuring us that God will grant justice, he says, “And yet, when the son of man comes, will he find faith on earth?” Prayer is all about faith, and the persistent power of faith is what keeps us in prayer when things seem overwhelming and hopeless.
Will Jesus find faith when he looks at you and me? Will he find us praying just for little circles of selfish needs or for justice for all of creation? Praying hard and praying through times of discouragement are the true tests of faith. Anyone can have faith when things are going according to plan, but when we hit detours, pain, failure, that’s when faith alone will see us through.

There’s a Chinese proverb about persistence that says “If you fall down 7 times, just get up 8.” And that applies even when things are blatantly unfair and unjust as they were for the woman in the parable. She refused to give up and her persistence was rewarded.

I Thessalonians 5:17 says that we are to “Pray without ceasing.” That’s the key to persistent prayer because prayer really means staying in relationship with God. We all know that communication is essential to any relationship – open, honest, vulnerable, caring communication. I didn’t say it was easy – if it were easy the divorce rate in our country would be far less than it is. If open communication was easy we would not have wars and violence that happen when relationships between people and nations break down. Communication with God is no different. Like any relationship, we have to work at it, every day, persistently.

When Paul tells us to pray without ceasing, he isn’t saying we need to be on our knees 24/7. That kind of holiness is impressive but not practical. Prayers need legs and feet and hands to be put into action. One of the powerful reasons for praying is that God uses prayer to motivate us to reach out to those we pray for in acts of kindness and mercy. To pray without ceasing simply means we are constantly in touch with our creator as our guide and director.

God is available to everyone 24/7 everywhere and anywhere. How that is possible is way beyond my pay grade as well as Bruce Almighty’s, but it’s true, and it’s true not only of the quantity of prayers God’s In-box can handle, but for the size and scope of what we can and must pray for.

Persistence and patience are partners for powerful prayer. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said that “The Arc of the Moral Universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” I’ve done a lot of reflecting lately on issues of justice and the progress or lack thereof we’ve made toward a just world in my lifetime. I’m coming up this year on my 50th high school reunion, and that has a way of giving one pause. I also recently saw the movie “The Butler” which covers the history of the American Civil Rights Movement from the 1950’s to the present, which just happens to cover most of my lifetime. All of that makes me wonder about how slowly the arc of the universe bends toward justice, and I get impatient to the point of despair. But circle makers pray and work for justice in and out of season. We don’t rest on our laurels but keep a prophetic eye on any place where God’s justice needs to be proclaimed.

We sometimes forget that it is in our own self-interest to pray and work for a just world. Our good fortune to be able to live in a safe, comfortable community does not make us immune to the problems of those who live in other less fortunate zip codes. The economic welfare and safety of the suburbs do not exist in isolation from crime and other social problems in nearby cities. That means our prayer circles need to be large enough to include our neighbors in the broader community and world, not just those people we know by name.

An article in this week’s Columbus Dispatch listed some interesting facts about last year’s top 5 philanthropists in our country – a list of many of the usual suspects. I was troubled to read that Mark Zuckerberg who topped the list had given all of his millions in donations to local agencies in Silicon Valley where his Facebook empire resides. I’m sure there are legitimate needs in Silicon Valley, just as there are everywhere, but to limit the scope of one’s concern to that community seemed very parochial and short-sighted to me. When I commented to a friend about that, he said he had read that after some friendly persuasion was exerted on Mr. Zuckerberg he has donated a very generous amount of money to the Newark, NJ schools. That happened because someone circled that concern and persisted in prayer for a larger vision of justice.

Issues of justice are complex and seeing results is much slower than smaller things we circle in our prayers – but that is no reason not to include them in our prayers. Solving big problems like education and the environment seem hopeless at times, but in the long run unless they are addressed, nothing else will really matter. And so we pray harder and longer, without ceasing, confident that no problems are too small or too large for God.

Whether praying for a loved one who is ill or for a society that is fractured, our prayers are the same – for healing – not just for a simple cure, but for a holistic spiritual healing. That’s the promise of God we can circle in persistent prayer with confidence that our prayers will be heard because God finds faith in those kinds of prayers.

When we feel hopeless – about personal or universal problems – we pray anyway. The God of justice hears our prayers and in God’s infinite wisdom grants mercy and justice in God’s good time. It is not for us to ask when or why – our job is to pray without ceasing, especially when the hour of prayer is not short or sweet.

[Sermon preached at Jerome United Methodist Church, February 16, 2014]

Maturing Faith

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.” (I Corinthians 13:11)

Those words of St. Paul came to mind as I was reflecting on changes in my life. I do that a lot these days as I look back on my 67 years of life experience. One particular reflection was sparked by a friend’s post on Facebook about the great hymn, “O Young and Fearless Prophet,” which is one of my favorites. The prophetic words by S. Ralph Harlow are as relevant today, if not more so, than when written in the early days of the great depression (1931). It’s not a popular hymn with most congregations because it hits too close to home when it says things like, “we betray so quickly and leave thee there alone;” or “help us stand unswerving against war’s bloody way, where hate and lust and falsehood hold back Christ’s holy sway.”

And it gets better. Verse three concludes with “forbid false love of country that blinds us to his call, who lifts above the nations the unity of all.” And verse four says, “Stir up in us a protest against our greed for wealth, while others starve and hunger and plead for work and health; where homes with little children cry out for lack of bread, who live their years sore burdened beneath a gloomy dread.” Those are words that would make both the Hebrew prophets and contemporary ones proud.

What’s that have to do with I Corinthians and thinking like a child? You see I never heard about the prophets or the social gospel in the churches where I grew up. My favorite hymn as a child was at the other end of the theological spectrum, “Onward Christian Soldiers, marching as to war.” It pains me to admit that, but it also gives me a sense of hope that change and conversion are possible. I believe Paul is reflecting on his own amazing conversion in that verse about childish and adult faith.

I know some people would call it back sliding rather than a conversion, but I am constantly amazed and grateful when I remember where I came from and where I am now on my faith journey. My entire high school received propaganda from the John Birch Society, and I had been taught no critical skills to even question the truth of such a hate-filled world view. If you aren’t familiar with the Birchers they were, as a friend of mine describes them, “somewhere to the right of Genghis Khan.” Think of them as the Tea Party on steroids. For me, to travel from that place to a more liberal and universal understanding of God and the world, thanks to many mentors, is one of the richest blessings of my life. My former self was fearful like a child, and while I have a long way yet to go in my faith walk, my current trust in a tolerant and merciful God is a more adult faith that I thank God for daily.

What that says to me is that a God who took a childish Christian killer named Saul and transformed him into the greatest missionary the church has ever known can also take a small-town kid like me with a narrow view of the world and of the Gospel and broaden my horizons. A great God who can do that can also bridge the seemingly hopeless divisions between the political and theological factions in our divided nation and world today.

To “put an end to childish things” means to mature in our faith, a life-long task for all of God’s people, individually and collectively. It means growing beyond a self-focused concern for my own personal salvation to a universal faith that demands justice and mercy for all of God’s children, not just people who look and think like me. That’s not a new thing. Deutero Isaiah described it 500 years before Christ when he said, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (Isa. 49:6)

The Hebrew people loved thinking they were God’s chosen people, and they were; but the prophets and Jesus challenge them and us to re-interpret what it means to be chosen. God’s people are not chosen for special privilege. We are chosen to be God’s servants and messengers of a grown-up Gospel that is inclusive, not exclusive; that cannot rest in material or spiritual comfort as long as there is suffering and injustice for any of God’s creation.

My own faith journey is perhaps best captured by the contrast between the militaristic imagery of my childhood theme song, “Onward Christian Soldiers” and another great hymn, “Lead On, O King Eternal.” The latter by Ernest W. Shurtleff includes these powerful words: “For not with swords loud clashing, nor roll of stirring drums; with deeds of love and mercy the heavenly kingdom comes.”

As we, let’s hope, near the end of the longest war in American history, my prayer is for an adult faith that will ask hard questions about what we have gained in the war on terror and at what cost. To ask such questions is in no way to dishonor the sacrifices made by the men and women who have served in that war. I would argue that the greatest honor we can bestow on those who have suffered and died in the service of our country is to rededicate ourselves to the peaceful ways of Christ. Harlow’s prayer is our prayer today, as the hymn concludes this way: “O young and fearless Prophet, we need thy presence here, amid our pride and glory to see thy face appear; once more to hear thy challenge above our noisy day, again to lead us forward along God’s holy way.” May it be so.

Gifts of Wisdom and Grace, Luke 2:25-32

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

Ever had one of those embarrassing situations where you get a late Christmas card, say on December 23 or 24, or you get an unexpected gift from someone who was not on your list. It’s too late to reciprocate without it being obvious that it’s an afterthought. Or you get something of much less or much more value than the gift you have for someone. Awkward. But is a gift really a gift if something of equal value is expected in return?

What about God’s gift of Jesus to us? Is that a gift we deserved or could possibly match with something in kind? Not a chance because the supreme gift at Bethlehem is a gift of grace. It is unmerited, unearned, for no reason – just because God’s middle name is “Grace.”

That’s one of the big differences between God and Santa Claus. You know the song that says, “You better watch out, you better not pout, you better not cry I’m telling you why. He’s making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who’s naughty or nice?” The clear implication is that the Jolly Old Elf only brings good gifts to the Nice. And that’s the reason we start celebrating Christmas in October or November now – it gives parents and teachers more time to extort good behavior out of kids who are anxiously waiting, not for Jesus, but for a new X-Box.

By contrast, the gift of the Christ child comes without bribes or a big price tag. It is one of those more-than-we-deserve or ever expected gifts, and those who recognize it are blessed indeed. There’s a little known addition to the Christmas story in Luke because it comes after the end of what we normally read as “the Christmas story”. We usually read as far in Luke 2 to get all the characters present at the manger scene, except for those late arriving kings, and we stop there at verse 16. But Luke continues the birth story later in chapter 2.

Luke 2:25-32 tells the story of the baby Jesus being brought to the temple to be consecrated when he was just 8 days old. His parents made an offering of a pair of doves or 2 young pigeons, the simple gift of peasants, all they could afford. And then Luke tells us,
“Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”

Simeon has spent his life looking for the Messiah. He allows God’s spirit to put him in the right place at the right time, in the Temple, to fulfill that purpose. And when Simeon holds baby Jesus in his arms he finds the peace that only comes when we are true to our life purpose and persistent enough to follow our dreams till they come true. Because Simeon’s deepest desire is fulfilled, his life is complete and he tells God he is ready now to die in peace.

I pray for that kind of satisfaction when my time here on earth is over. Death is very hard for those who have unfinished business in their lives but much easier for those who are at peace. This is probably a poor analogy but some of us can relate anything to football. The last few minutes of a football game can either be very exciting or pretty boring. Which it is depends on who’s ahead and who has the ball. If the team that is behind has the ball they will do anything they can to prolong the game – call time out, run out of bounds, spike the ball to stop the clock, in order to make the game last as long as possible so they can try and score enough points to win. They are not satisfied to let the game end because their purpose has not been fulfilled. But if the team that is ahead has the ball it’s a totally different story. They will wait as long as possible to run every play, keep the ball on the ground and inbounds so the clock won’t stop, and finally just get in what is called the victory formation and kneel down and let time expire, because they are satisfied with what the scoreboard says.

Simeon was wise enough to know that his life purpose was accomplished. He had found the promised salvation of his people, but much more than that, Simeon is wise enough to realize that God’s good gift is not just for the Jews but is for all the world. He says, “My eyes have seen your salvation which you have prepared in the presence of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles (which means everybody else in the world who is not a Jew), and for Glory to the people of Israel.” It’s the same message the angels gave the shepherds: “we are bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.”

No matter how old we are, we all need mentors—people who can teach us things we need to know. Mary goes to her older cousin Elizabeth for advice, Joseph and the shepherds are mentored by angels, and Simeon is a great mentor for all of us because he understands the scope of what God’s grace is all about. Who are your mentors? Mentors don’t have to be old. Isaiah tells us “a little child shall lead them.” My grandkids teach me all the time about what unconditional love and joy are all about. Older people like Nelson Mandela teach us what it’s like to love and forgive even after 27 years of imprisonment, most of it at hard labor. Think of the bloodshed Mandela and others working with him prevented by finding a peaceful way to end the evils of racism and Apartheid.

Grace is the gift of salvation for all people, a freely given no-return-expected gift. Grace is one of those words that are hard to define, but we know graciousness when we see it. For example, in the Exodus story, when the Hebrews came to the Red Sea with Pharaoh’s army in hot pursuit, they were trapped, facing certain death until the waters of the sea were parted and they were able to cross on dry land. And then when the Egyptian chariots and horses and soldiers tried to follow them the seas closed up and drowned them all. That part of the story is in the Bible, but another story says that God was away on business that day and left the angels in charge. And when God came back he found the angels high-fiving each other and celebrating. They said, look Lord, we got them; we wiped out every last one of those Egyptians! The angels were expecting praise and a promotion from God for their victory, but God did not look pleased. One of the angels said, “What’s wrong, Lord. We saved your people!! Why are you not pleased?” God said, “Don’t you understand, the Egyptians are my children too?” And do you know who tells that story? The Jews. Amazing Grace prepared in the presence of all people.

Fred Craddock, one of my favorite preachers, tells of meeting a woman at coffee hour after a service where he preached. The woman was in her late 30’s. She asked Craddock about his family; so he inquired about hers. She said her parents were dead, sisters all lived out of town, and she had taken care of an elderly uncle for 8 years before he died. Craddock said, “Your uncle must have been very grateful.” “If he was he never said so,” she said. “I never heard a word of appreciation – just much swearing and complaining if his meals were late or not to his liking.” She worked at a bank and went home every day at lunch to feed him and then hurried home after work to fix his dinner. She had no dates or social life because she needed to be with her uncle. When he died, her co-workers said she must be relieved. But she said through her tears, “they didn’t get it. I loved my uncle.” A profane, demanding, cruel, oppressor who had enslaved her for 8 years, but she loved him. By the way, her name is Grace.

Adam Hamilton in his book, The Journey, writes about going to the Holy Land to research his book. One of the things he discovered there in Nazareth where Jesus grew up was that scholars believe that Mary’s family lived in a cave. A cave!!! These were dirt poor, working class folks in a little back water town that was so unimportant it didn’t even make it on the list of towns and villages in Galilee! And that’s where God chose to send his only begotten son. Amazing Grace prepared in the presence of all people.

Can you imagine the conversation at the staff meeting in Heaven when God announced his plan to come to Bethlehem as a poor peasant boy who couldn’t even afford a first-class offering at his consecration? The angels said, “Why would you do such a thing? Maybe for good, nice righteous people like Simeon, but not for all the people! They’re profane and unfaithful. They’ve stoned the prophets and broken every law you ever gave them. Have you forgotten the golden calf and the inquisition and Auschwitz and Nagasaki and the KKK, 9/11, Newtown or Columbine? They’re ungrateful and demanding, never satisfied with what you do for them. They don’t have a clue about living in peace with each other or how to take care of the earth!”

And God said, “I know, but they’re my children, and I love them.”

Receive again this night God’s gift of amazing grace – for the naughty and the nice – for all people who will receive him still. Amen.

[Jerome UMC, Christmas Eve 2013]

Christ Candle Drama

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

Narrator: During the 4 weeks of Advent we have had some interesting people from modern and Biblical times help us light the 4 candles on our Advent Wreath. I’m sorry to say that the guest we hoped to have tonight will not be able to be here. We wanted to have one of the Wise Men light the Christ Candle for us, but as you may recall from Matthew’s Gospel, the Wise Men didn’t actually arrive to give their gifts to Baby Jesus until he was almost two years old. So I guess we will have to get by without their wisdom tonight.

Shepherd: [enters from off stage with an attitude] Wait just a minute, please. You don’t think the Magi were the only wise people in the Christmas story, do you? I get pretty tired of those three kings getting all the publicity with their fancy robes and big camels, and expensive gifts. If it hadn’t been for a lot of other smart people the whole Christmas story would never have happened.

Narrator: Excuse me, who might you be and what are you talking about?

Shepherd: Oh, I had a small part in the Christmas story, too; I’m Eli, one of the shepherds who came to the manger.

Narrator: Oh my, I didn’t recognize you, Eli, I mean without your sheep and away from the Nativity scene and all. I’m so sorry. But what were you saying about the other wise people in the Christmas story?

Shepherd: Well, think about it. The story begins with Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah. They had to be wise enough to believe God when they were told they would have a child in their old age. And their son, John the Baptist, prepared the way for Jesus and even baptized him. And what about Mary’s fiancé, Joseph? He was wise enough to believe the angel who told him Mary’s baby was really God’s son. Believe me; most guys would not have believed that story.

Narrator: I see your point. These were common ordinary people who were smart enough to trust God with some incredible ideas.

Shepherd: And that’s not all. Think about us shepherds—we didn’t have college degrees, but once we got over the shock of seeing all those angels, we were wise enough to pay attention to the biggest birth announcement in all of history. Everybody else in Bethlehem was too busy to even notice. But we heard God’s message and came running; so we got to be the very first people ever to worship the Christ child.

Narrator: You’re right, that was very wise. And now that I think about it, we’ve left out a very important wise person in this story. There was a certain young peasant girl who got some very shocking news about becoming the mother of God’s son. Mary must have been scared to death!

Shepherd: Yes, I’m sure she was. She told us she didn’t think Joseph or anyone else would believe such a wild story about her baby’s father. But she was smart enough to go to Elizabeth for advice. Mary was wise beyond her years to have the faith to say “yes” to what God was asking her to do. And because of all the wisdom from all those people the history of the world was changed forever. [Pause]

Narrator: Eli, thank you for sharing your wisdom with us. Would you do us the honor of lighting the Christ Candle tonight, as we celebrate again the birth of Jesus Christ, the light of the world? [Eli lights the Christ candle and both exit.]

4th Sunday of Advent, 2013: The candle of love

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

Pastor: We have a special guest to help us light the 4th Advent candle today, the candle of Love. Someone we all know from the Christmas story who’s in all of our nativity scenes—Jospeh of Nazareth. Welcome to Jerome church, Joseph. Most everyone knows a couple of things about you, Joseph. We know you were a carpenter and how surprised you were when Mary gave you the big news about the baby.

Joseph: Yes, that news was really hard to wrap my mind around since we weren’t married yet. I almost lost it. But you know, once I got over that shock, I was more blown away by something even more incredible.

Pastor: Wait a minute! What could possibly be more surprising than a virgin birth?

Joseph: Well, think about it. Look at me. Do I look like a prime candidate for someone to raise God’s son?

Pastor: Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you brought it up, not really. I guess Dr. Phil might have been a better choice!

Joseph: Yes, or even someone who could afford to raise that special son in comfort and provide a good education for him. How about you, Pastor? Think how much better the schools are in Dublin than they were in Nazareth.

Pastor: Good point. I’ll get back to you on that one. But seriously, why do you think God chose you and Mary? Did everybody else turn him down?

Joseph: I’ve asked myself that a lot. We were poor as church mice – didn’t have two shekels to rub together. And we were in Bethlehem because of the new Roman tax system that was going to take a big bite out of what little we had. It made no sense.

Pastor: So, how did you make peace with the whole idea?

Joseph: I had this dream and God told me it would be OK. He said people would call our baby’s name Emmanuel, which means “God with us.” When I heard that I remembered how God has always been with people who needed him the most – like the Hebrew slaves escaping from Egypt, or the Exiles in Babylon. God knows that the meek and lowly need help the most. For years and years, my people waited for the Messiah to come. We believed that when the Messiah comes there will be no more suffering. But as I thought about all that history, I realized that’s not it. The truth is that God loves all of his children, especially those who need love the most. God chose simple peasant people like Mary and me to be Christ’s parents to show the world what God’s love means. It’s in places like Bethlehem, exactly where there is suffering, that’s where the Messiah comes.

Pastor: Where there is suffering, that’s where the Messiah comes. (pause) Joseph, thank you for helping us better understand the depth of God’s love. Would you do us the honor of lighting the Candle of love as we sing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel?”