Christian witness – Page 18

“HEARING THE HEAVENS AND DOING THE WORD,” PS. 19:1-14

January 14, 2013September 7, 2021 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values, Lectionary Texts

The heavens are telling the glory of God – without words – can you hear it? Early morning bird song, gentle waves lapping at the sides of a canoe adrift on a lake at sunrise or sunset (if you aren’t a morning person!). Most of us have felt the indescribable presence of God in nature at some time in our lives – as Robert Browning describes it in his famous poem, “Pippa’s Song:”

“The year’s at the spring, and day’s at the morn,

Morning’s at seven; the hillside is dew-pearled;

The lark is on the wing; the snail’s on the thorn;

God’s in his heaven – all’s right with the world!”

We cherish such moments of communion with nature and the God who created it all – in part because it is extra-ordinary. Such beauty transcends the mundane and ugly parts of life that are too much with us. Partly because we don’t take time to seek out those special times and place, partly because it is increasingly hard to find such places in our hectic, crowded lives, polluted by noise and light and smog that tarnish our view of the heavens. Yesterday’s Columbus Dispatch ran a story about air pollution being so bad in Beijing that they scored in the 700’s on a scale that is only supposed to go to 500! A month after the Newtown massacre we know all too well that life is anything but peaceful and serene for far too many of God’s children.

Who was this Psalmist and what planet did he live on? Would he or she have written such glowing idyllic words if he lived in the 21^st century? In our century of suicide bombers and devastation from storms caused by undeniable global warming and climate change? What about the stagnant economy and congressional gridlock or senseless slaughter in Syria, starving kids in Darfur and Detroit? The heavens may be telling the glory of God, but heaven is a long way from our troubled planet – and some skeptics say you can’t get there from here!!!

Given all that doom and gloom, even when we gaze at the vast expanse of the universe on a clear night and pray to our God in heaven, don’t we sometimes find ourselves feeling insignificant and lonely and asking what God’s done for us lately?

I know I do. I can throw a great pity party – and then some friend on God’s behalf reminds me that suffering is written large in every chapter of human history – from the crusades to the black plague, from Roman imperialism to Nazi Germany and the Russian gulag, from the dark ages to modern day war lords, slavery and genocide. And they also remind me that in every one of those generations a faithful remnant has heard and seen the cosmic goodness of God’s creation and refused to surrender to the forces of darkness. Voices like Browning and our Psalmist have dared to affirm the goodness of creation and life, not because of turmoil and trouble, but in spite of it. Luther, Augustine, Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Paul of tarsus, Jesus of Nazareth – just to name a few – too many voices of hope that have made too great an impact on the world to write them off as unrealistic optimists.

And that doesn’t even begin to address biblical history. Like many parts of the Bible, we don’t know for sure who wrote this Psalm or when, but knowing what we know about the history of Israel, it doesn’t really matter. To get a picture of Israel’s political and economic history – imagine a place like Ohio being an independent country and all of our neighbors – Indiana, Kentucky, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, even Canada and that state up north, all take turns overrunning the Buckeye state and taking over our government and economy. At one point we Ohioans are driven by a famine to Kentucky in search for food, and end up being slaves there for several hundred years to the pharaoh of Lexington. When we finally escape and cross the Ohio River again, other people have taken over our homeland, and we have to fight a bitter guerilla war to reclaim it. A then a few centuries later Michigan invades Ohio and our leaders are carried off to exile in Ann Arbor.

Pretty ugly, right? Well that’s Israel’s history – Israel isn’t a great agricultural country – they don’t have lots of natural resources or wealth; but what they had, especially in Bible times was location, location, location. Remember your geography and Israel’s location in that narrow strip of arable land along the Mediterranean coast. It’s called the Fertile Crescent because everything for hundreds of miles to the east is desert. So that narrow strip of land was the only trade route between the great political and economic super powers of the day. The only safe way between Greece, Assyria, Babylon and Rome on the north and Egypt on the south went right through Israel; so everyone wanted to control it, and took turns doing so. My point is that no matter when this 19^th Psalm was written, it could not have been describing some utopian era when “all was right with the world” because no such time to this day has ever existed in Israeli history. The Jews are fully acquainted with grief – to the point where Tevye in that great musical “Fiddler on the Roof” at one point asks God, “couldn’t you choose someone else once in awhile?”

And yet in this Psalm and throughout the calamities of slavery, exile, wars and rumors of wars, God’s people appreciate and witness to the glory of God. They heard the heavens proclaiming the glory of God – do we?

Maybe the Hebrews were closer to the earth and creation than we are in our urbanized technological world, but that’s no excuse. God is still speaking and the cosmos is as magnificent and awesome as ever if we take time to listen to its power and assurance. As the epistle James (1:17) puts it, “Every generous act is from above, from God, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” God and the universe don’t change, no matter how badly we humans mess things up – that’s the good news.

The temptation for some, even many of us, may be to withdraw into the beauty of nature and tune out the cacophony of human conflict. When I hear the shouting matches going on in federal and local legislatures over fiscal reform or hear the litany of senseless violence and tragedy on the nightly news, I can see value in high tailing it to Walden Pond or a remote mountain somewhere and communing with nature forever. But we know better. It’s not enough to hear the heavens proclaim the glory of God; we are expected to put that heavenly assurance into action. From Micah’s admonition to “do justice” (6:8) to James urging us to “be doers of God’s word, and not hearers only” (1:22), the biblical message is clear. We need faith and hope and strength from God in any form we can get it – but it’s not there to hoard for a rainy day. Love is only love if you give it away, or as James puts it even more forcefully later in this letter – “faith without works is dead” (2:26).

Talk can be cheap, and we know actions speak louder than words. So what does doing God’s word look like for us as Jesus followers today? To be doers of the word we need to surrender control and allow the ways of Christ to inform every decision we make–about vocations and vacations, how we spend our time and money, how we share our resources and care for mother earth. And beyond acts of charity and kindness, to prayerfully examine how doers of God’s word can make positive contributions to public policies that shape and influence the lives of everyone in society, not just our own.

We could say, “I have health care and my family is taken care of, so let’s leave the system the way it is, it works for me!!!” Or, “there’s enough money in social security to last my life time, global warming won’t get serious till after I’m gone; so let someone else worry about those complicated issues.”

No, what the heavens proclaim from our cosmic God requires bigger thinking and responsibility from us, and by the grace of God we are capable of bold, creative action, even if fair and equitable solutions to health care and other social justice issues seem currently impossible to achieve.

Yes, the heavens proclaim God’s glory, but we still know that all is not right with the world; and guess whose job it is to fix it? When we think about the beauty of God’s creation, we need to remind ourselves that the Bible doesn’t begin with Genesis chapter 3, which is where Adam and Eve get booted out of the garden. The Bible begins with Genesis, chapter 1 – where humans are created in the very image of God and entrusted to be God’s agents and stewards in the world.

Let’s be very clear that to be God’s agents and doers of the word is not advocating for some kind of works righteousness. We aren’t called to be doers of God’s word to earn brownie points with God. None of us can do enough good deeds to earn our salvation – that’s a gift of grace for those who repent and surrender to God’s word. Faith produces good works, not vice versa. People of faith can’t not do acts of justice and compassion, because once we truly hear the heavenly voice of God we know we are connected to each other – we are brothers and sisters in Christ, including those who don’t yet know we’re all kin.

Above the clamor and racket of modern life, the heavens are still telling the glory of God today. Stop, look and listen for it – hear the power and the majesty – the power and the majesty beyond words, beyond human comprehension, beyond human suffering and injustice!

Stop, listen, hear the heavenly voices, and then go from the places of cosmic beauty renewed, refreshed and inspired to be doers of justice and compassion and hope for those who most need to hear what the heavens are proclaiming.

“Who’s the Real King,” Matthew 2:1-20

December 30, 2012 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

Matthew’s story of the Magi reminds me of Susie who came home from Sunday school and proudly showed her father the picture she had drawn there. It was a picture of an airplane and through the windows there were four people visible in the plane, 3 in the back and one up front. Dad asking a very natural question not recommended for parents of young artists inquired, “What is it?” Susie replied, “It’s the flight into Egypt. See, there’s Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus in the plane.” Stifling his laughter, Dad got in deeper. “Oh, I see, and who is that in the front of the plane?” “Dad,” said Susie, “You should know who that is. It’s Pontius the Pilot.”

Matthew tells the story of the holy family’s escape into Egypt so briefly and matter of factly that it’s easy to pass over it too lightly as Susie did. This story of the magi and Herod is a significant addition to Luke’s more peaceful account of angels and shepherd. In Matthew the innocent babe of Bethlehem is not only homeless but is quickly forced to run for his life from a homicidal King Herod. What might this dark side of the Christmas story say to us today as we come to the end of another Christmas season with the horrors of Newtown and Rochester still hanging in the air? Matthew reminds us that Jesus didn’t come into a world of pretty lights, tinseled trees and holiday parties. He came into the real world, the world that had always stoned and rejected God’s prophets and resisted those who try to challenge the status quo.

Jesus came into a world where Caesar Augustus issued a decree to tax an oppressed people – a first century fiscal cliff if you will. There’s nothing wrong with celebrating the warmth and love of Christmas. We need breaks from our normal routine; we need to pause and ponder the meaning of life, to visit with friends and family; but lest we forget, Matthew 2 reminds us that like Jesus, when the party’s over, we must still live in the real world. Given Herod’s slaughter of innocent children, I’m sure there must have been some in Bethlehem who would have lobbied for an armed guard at the manger, or maybe the wise men should have been brought guns and ammo instead of Gold, frankincense and myrrh.

In the real world there is always the struggle between good and evil – has been since time began. It is both a cosmic and a personal conflict, which plays out here between Baby Jesus and King Herod, a symbol of all the power and violence and selfishness the world can muster. It seems a very unfair match doesn’t it, a helpless, defenseless new born baby vs. Herod’s armies? Gun powder vs. baby powder! But remember what Pastor Dave said on Christmas Eve – God loves the underdog. Baby Jesus is far from helpless, because he has God on his side, and we can have that same power on our side too if we worship the right king and not Herod’s kind of power. In the words of the great hymn, “Lead on O King Eternal,” Jesus wins this battle hands down, “not with swords loud clashing nor roll of stirring drums, with deeds of love and mercy, his heavenly kingdom comes.”

My son and daughter-in-law gave me the HBO series on John Adams for my birthday this fall, and those seven hours of viewing were a great way to spend some of my recovery time after my surgery. It’s a great series based on the biography of Adams by David McCullough, in part because it is so realistic in portraying how difficult the struggle for American independence was. Political debate raged for months about if or when independence from Great Britain should be declared. That first Christmas of the American Revolution in 1776 when Washington’s underfed, ill-equipped, poorly trained army looked doomed to an early defeat, Thomas Paine wrote his famous words, “These are the times that try men’s souls.” Talk about underdogs taking on the most powerful military empire in the world. Adams and the other members of that Congressional Congress knew they were literally risking their lives, committing treason by standing up to the power and authority of King George. But as Harry Emerson Fosdick once said, they chose to be “loyal to the royal” in themselves, to the inalienable rights of liberty and justice endowed upon all humans by our creator.

As in every generation we are also living in times that try our souls, and we face the same critical decisions every generation faces, to choose the ways of the world or the ways of the Lord. Let’s be honest, our priorities aren’t all that different than they were in Herod’s day. Aren’t we still overly impressed by the lifestyles of the rich and famous? Don’t we stress out and work too hard and go into debt for things we don’t really need and can’t afford?

Let’s not miss the radical point the story of Herod and the Magi makes, of these wise kings traipsing around the countryside looking for a poor little peasant baby born in a barn. But even these wise men are fooled at first- they go to Herod, looking for the newborn king. They expected him to be born in a palace, not a stable, and wouldn’t we make the same mistake today?

The Magi are symbols of worldly wisdom and power. They show true wisdom just in time when they see through Herod’s lies and follow the star to Jesus. And there they bow down and worship the true king, the one who doesn’t force his way upon us or try to impress us with wealth and power. Jesus instead shows us the power that is stronger than any bully or injustice—the power of love.

Herod represents a long line of despots: Pharaoh, Jezebel, Nebuchadnezzar, Nero, Hitler, Stalin, Saddam, and Osama. All rulers who appeared to be all powerful. Matthew tells us that Herod was so powerful that when he was upset about the news of Jesus’ birth, all of Jerusalem trembled in fear of his wrath. But like every bully Herod’s fear-based power is hollow. Herod is so insecure and threatened by a tiny baby that he orders the slaughter of innocent children, a horror all too real to us in 2012. How desperate Herod must have been. His desperation shows us that he feared others far more than they feared him. Herod’s kind of power cannot last long because it is built on fear and violence. Herod has the power of death, he can order men to kill babies and they do it. By contrast, Jesus came in the power of eternal life. He has nothing to fear because he is in touch with the power of God that conquers even death itself. Jesus stands for love and compassion, kindness and peace, eternal values that can be oppressed and oppressed, but never conquered – values that aren’t part of the Herodian vocabulary.

Jesus’ peaceful confidence and power are illustrated in a story by Madeleine L’Engle that tells about the holy family’s dangerous journey across the desert into Egypt. Wild animals and robbers were very real threats in the desert, and Mary and Joseph would have had to join a caravan for safety. The story is called “Dance in the Desert,” and as L’Engle tells it, the first night in the desert might have been like this:

“The child will be frightened,” one of the camel drivers said and with his great, calloused hands began to play upon a tiny reed pipe. A scrawny donkey boy ran into one of the tents and came out with an enormous horn, certainly heavier than he was, and managed to blow into it so that a braying squawk came out the end. The little boy laughed and clapped with joy as he sat on the young man’s knee in the circle around the largest of the fires.

Outside the circle, from the edges of the dark, came a deep, sustained roar. The camel driver dropped his pipe, his huge hand reaching for his knife. “It is a lion.” The tremor of fear that ran through the group touched everybody except the child. He slid off the young man’s knees and walked on his still unsteady legs to the edge of the circle. “Wait,” the mother said, as the camel driver reached for the little boy.

The firelight seemed dimmer, the moonlight on the sands outside brighter. At the crest of a dune stood a magnificent lion, completely still, so that he seemed like one of the stone carvings that the sands cover and then uncover on the desert floor. His tail began to twitch, not in anger or irritation, but in dignified rhythm. Then ponderously, he rose on his hind legs to his full height. The child stood at the edge of the circle of firelight, holding out his arms in greeting. The lion dropped back to his four paws and moved slowly to the company, not menacing, not stalking, but in measured, courtly circles. “He’s dancing!” the donkey boy said. “The lion is dancing!”

The camel driver’s grip relaxed, though he kept his hand on the knife’s hilt. At a responsible distance from the caravan the lion knelt on his forepaws, then dropped to his haunches and lay still on the sands, watching.”

Because Jesus is the real king, He has nothing to fear from any human king or the king of the beasts. That’s the same message the gospels tell us when Jesus shows his kind of power over and over again – refusing to use force, resisting Satan’s temptations of glory and worldly power, calming the seas, exorcising demons, healing the sick and raising the dead. And yet, even with all those signs of divine power, Jesus still had few real disciples. Why? Because most people then and now are fooled by Herod’s kind of phony power. We call the Magi wise because they eventually recognize who the real king is. Herod tries to order them around like he does everybody else. He lies to them about his desire to worship Jesus. But the Magi’s wisdom wins out. Their ultimate obedience is not to Herod, but to the real king, and they refuse to play into Herod’s evil hand.

It is one thing to recognize the real king and bring him gifts and worship him. That’s the easy part. The acid test is which king we obey when push comes to shove. In our heads we know that God will win in the long run, but we live in the short run, and that’s where we must show our loyalty to the true king if we want our world to become more like God’s kingdom. We have the choice, every day, and history sadly shows a lack of wisdom in our ability to recognize and follow the real king. Too many Herods have risen to power in our world. Too many innocent children have died. Following the Newtown massacre, everyone is asking what we can do to make our world a safer place. That’s a complicated question and a debate we need to take very seriously. But there’s one thing we all can do right now today to help change the world and that is to commit ourselves more fully to follow the prince of peace.

In a few days the Christmas trees and decorations will be gone, the manger scene will be packed away in its box, but the choice of which king we serve and how we will live in 2013 will remain. That choice affects how we relate to our families, friends, colleagues, how we respond to economic challenges, to the needs of the less fortunate. It affects everything we do, and we need to be constantly aware of that. Because the forces of evil are subtle and tricky. Herod will try anything to undermine our faith by fear and intimidation, tempting us with all kinds of lies about earthly comforts and rewards instead of eternal ones.

Nobody ever said allegiance to the real king is easy (and if they did, they were lying). Accepting Christ as our king is not a one and done decision. You can’t even do that with your driver’s license, you have to renew it regularly. Each Christmas we need to hear the story again, fresh and new, to be challenged by its simple yet profound truth. And every day we need to make a conscious choice to follow the one true King.

Several decrees go out in the Christmas story – one from Caesar Augustus ordering a census, one from Herod ordering a massacre. But the one we need to hear is the decree of the angels proclaiming the birth of the one true king, the savior of the world who conquers our fear forever. Let’s remember Jesus’ teaching on allegiance to authority. He taught us to render to Caesar only that which belongs to Caesar, but always and foremost to give our ultimate allegiance to the true king and Lord of all creation. Let us remember that this is not a new challenge – that way back in Deuteronomy the Hebrew people were faced with the same choice. And Joshua made it very clear when he said, “Choose this day whom you will serve.” And like Joshua, we pray for the wisdom of the Magi to respond today and every day, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.”

“Be Careful What you Ask For” Text: Mark 10:35-45

October 23, 2012 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

What would you do if your boss asked you to undertake a big project that would require a lot of effort and travel but she wouldn’t tell you what the project was until you agreed to do it? Would you buy that deal? Or if your very best friend comes to you with a financial crisis, and when you ask what it is or how much he needs – the answer is that he can’t tell you but just needs you to write him a blank check! That’s what James and John seem to be saying to Jesus in this passage from Mark 10. “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you.”

Why would these two close disciples of Jesus even dare to ask such a brash and bold thing? There is some evidence to support this unseemly behavior if we look elsewhere in the Gospels. At least four times Jesus seems to offer the disciples and us that kind of magic wand. ‘Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith you will receive” (Mt. 21:22). And three times in John’s gospel, “I will do whatever you ask in my name” (John 14:13; 15:7 & 16).

Such a deal! No wonder James and John want to cash in. What would you pray for if you were guaranteed you’d get whatever you asked for? New job? Healing for yourself or a loved one? Straight A’s? A full-ride scholarship to the college of your choice? Browns in the Super Bowl? Hey, it says whatever you ask!!!! How about healing a broken relationship? Or let’s think really big and go for world peace and a healthy environment.

But there’s something wrong with this picture isn’t there? We’ve prayed for most of those things and more, and more times than not, the answer is ‘no’ or ‘not now” or “not yet.” The cancer isn’t cured. The marriage ends in divorce. The perfect job doesn’t appear. Mr. or Ms. Right turns out to be a big Ms-take, and the world seems further from peace than ever.

If God is all powerful and promises to answer our prayers, why is there so much suffering and pain? Why is the world such a mess? We’ll come back to that question later. First let’s look at the second surprising thing in this story about Jesus and his disciples. After the audacity of James and John to ask Jesus to grant them whatever they want, the next surprise is that Jesus doesn’t laugh in their faces for daring to ask such a foolish question. Jesus calmly responds, “What is it you want me to do? “ And when they say they want the seats of honor next to Jesus in his kingdom, then Jesus gets a little more direct with them. He says, “You don’t know what you’re asking.” In other words, “Be careful what you ask for.” And then Jesus goes on to explain for the umpteenth time the cost of discipleship. Following Jesus means being a servant and a slave, the exact opposite of the cushy places of privilege and honor James and John were asking for.

In Isaiah (55:8) God says, “My ways are not your ways.” Jesus makes the same point here in Mark. He says “among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. BUT IT IS NOT SO AMONG YOU (church); but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant; for the son of man came not to be served but to serve” (10:43). Sometimes our unanswered prayers are the result of asking for the wrong things–like when we pray for athletic victories. I don’t think even Jesus could get the poor Browns to a Super Bowl; or for materialistic things or success in a job or on a test at school when we haven’t taken the responsibility to do the work and the study necessary for success.

Even prayer for peace and the environment can be nothing more than pious platitudes if we don’t live peaceful and environmentally responsible lifestyles. That’s why the letter of James tells us, “Faith without works is dead.” That epistle says it does no good to wish someone well if we don’t lift a finger to help feed them or meet their needs. A friend of mine on Facebook recently posted a few messages about breaking a new bottle of insulin she needs to take every day. Her insurance company refused to replace the expensive medicine, and she didn’t have money in her budget to replace it. After a few days of going without the insulin she posted another message saying she was starting to feel the effects of going without. In response there was a long list of messages from her Facebook friends offering prayers and messages of sympathy, but not one offer of any funds to help her buy her meds. Prayers without works to back them up are dead.

At first glance, it looks like James and John’s request is denied because they are asking for special recognition. Don’t we all like to be appreciated and affirmed? We put our plaques and diplomas and awards on our office walls, but I don’t see many of us displaying pictures of times we really messed up or a headline from the paper when we got a speeding ticket. What if James and John simply asking for assurance that they’re ok? Just a few verses earlier Mark tells us they were afraid as they headed ever closer to Jerusalem and what awaited Jesus there. Maybe James and John just want to be close to Jesus. Don’t we all want to be sure God is walking beside us on our daily journey – to be reassured that the single set of footprints in the tough times are really God’s and not ours?

But there’s a difference between asking for God’s presence and expecting special treatment. We’d all like to be exempt from suffering and pain, and our loved ones too. But we are called with Christ to suffer with those who suffer. Fred Craddock, one of the great preachers of our time describes what we want as “almost Bible” – things that we think are or should be in the Bible but aren’t. He says we want the Bible to say that “when the Messiah comes there will be no more suffering.” But what it says is “Where there is suffering, there the Messiah comes.” And Jesus calls us to be there with the suffering also if we want to be next to him. Yes, God promises a peaceful, pain-free existence for the faithful, but that peace comes only in the spiritual realm of divine healing, beyond the trials and tribulations of this mortal existence.

Some prayers also go unanswered because they are just too small. The scope of our prayer concerns is like an archery target of concentric circles – you know what that looks like with the red bull’s eye in the very center of the target. Our personal concerns and needs are naturally at the bull’s eye. Next to us are those we love and care most about, then come friends and neighbors in the next circle, then friends and acquaintances of others brought to our attention when they are put on the prayer list, etc. The secret to growing in our faith is an ever-expanding sense of who we are connected to in God’s family until our prayers and service reach to the far outer ring of the circles – to those we don’t even know who look different and think differently, even worship differently or not at all – even to those we have labeled as our enemies. All of God’s children and all of God’s creation become part of our prayer vision and circle of compassion. That’s the vision that inspires our giving to missions at home and around the world. It’s the reason dozens of our own Jerome church members are on three mission trips to Kentucky, Haiti and Argentina at this very moment. Praise God for that dedication and service.

The scope of our concern is like flying in a plane. At ground level all we can see are the other planes on the tarmac and the terminal and the control tower, and those people out there losing our luggage. Then as the plane lifts off the ground we can see the parking lots and highways next to the airport, then the skyline of the city we are departing from, and as we get higher we can see for miles – pick out lakes and rivers and other landmarks. And from 30000 feet on a clear day we can see all the way to the horizon miles away. And for an even better view, we’ve all seen pictures of the earth sent back from Apollo astronauts circling the moon and have seen what a beautiful, fragile little planet we live on – one without the artificial borders and boundaries that divide us from one another. From that vantage point we begin to get a God’s eye view and a universal perspective that calls us to pray and act on behalf of all creation and all of God’s children.

Jesus calls us to be servants of that whole creation, and that means making hard choices. We have to put our own desires and wishes on hold to tend to the needs of others. Mothers and fathers and caregivers for the sick or elderly know exactly what that means, and the Scriptures challenge us all to adopt that role of caretaker for God’s world and God’s people – not just out of necessity, but with joyful hearts.

God has entrusted humankind with the care of all creation and we must take that job more seriously. It isn’t easy – none of us want to give up the comfortable lifestyle we enjoy. We can pray for researchers and business leaders to find solutions to difficult environmental problems – but all of us need to also do more to simplify our own consumption of the finite resources God has provided. I know businesses don’t like EPA regulations that limit their freedoms and their profits, none of us do, but without rules and regulations we are not good at environmentally healthy choices and practices – because when our eyes are focused on just the bulls eye of our own well-being and not on the Creator’s perspective, we lose sight of the bigger target.

World peace is an even bigger challenge. We pray for our troops and honor the sacrifices they and their loved ones make every day that we too often take for granted. But Jesus calls all of us to live peacefully too. He says, “If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also” (Mt. 5:39), and stop the cycle of anger and revenge. Yes, I know there are huge questions about how we do that in the face of tyrants and terrorists, and I don’t have any easy answers. But what I do know is that the Scriptures challenge all of us to wrestle with what that means and how we respond to bullies or road rage or a back stabbing colleague at work. Jesus says pray for your enemies and for those who abuse you, but prayer alone is not enough — he also says to love them.

World peace is so big an issue we are tempted to throw up our hands and just give up, but that is not an acceptable response. None of us is likely to go out this week and stop the violence in Afghanistan or Syria or even on the west side of Columbus – but every one of us will have multiple opportunities to respond peaceably to someone who rushes in front of us in the checkout line at Kroger’s, or takes a parking place we were obviously heading for. We will all have chances to put ourselves in the shoes of someone who is unkind or rude, perhaps because they are distracted by problems at home or work or have just gotten terrible news from the Dr. Or a student at school who is a jerk because he or she just flunked a big test or got cut from the squad. And I guarantee you that all of us will have many chances in these final days before the election to resist the temptation to put down those we disagree with politically and choose instead to respectfully disagree .

On the topic of elections and political disagreements – a friend posted some very good advice this week from someone I never expected to see on Facebook–John Wesley, one of the founders of the Methodist church. Way back in 1774 Wesley wrote these words that are just as relevant today as they were 250 years ago. Wesley wrote in his journal:

“I met those of our society who had votes in the ensuing election, and advised them,

To vote, without fee or reward, for the person they judged most worthy:
To speak no evil of the person they voted against:
To take care their spirits were not sharpened against those that voted on the other side.”

In every situation, I urge all of us to pray and meditate on Jesus as the way and the truth and life as we make daily choices this week. Remember what Jesus says to James and John: “It’s not about you. You don’t need to elbow and shove your way into the spotlight.” God sees acts of servanthood and they may not get recognized or rewarded in the coin of the realm – but God will reward us with the peace that comes when our prayers are in alignment with our actions, and our will is in harmony with God’s.

How do we live peaceful lives of love and forgiveness toward others? The best advice is always to look to Jesus as our example, and when it comes to the question of how to pray faithfully there is one short prayer of Jesus in Mark 14:36 that says it all. That prayer is the exact opposite of what James and John ask of Jesus. They want to play God and expect Jesus to do whatever they want. In contrast, in his greatest hour of need on the night before he was crucified Jesus also prayed to God and asked very clearly for what he wanted. Remember he says, “God, for you all things are possible, remove this cup from me.” In other words, “get me out of this mess.” But unlike James and John, Jesus doesn’t stop there. He goes on to say, “But not my will but thy will be done.” That is the ultimate test of authentic prayer. Do we give God’s will priority over ours? We can and should voice our deepest fears and requests to God. God wants that kind of personal relationship with us. But the bottom line is to humbly let God be God and submit our desires as faithful servants to God’s will. A sincere prayer for God’s will to be done is prayer that will always be answered.

[Preached at Jerome UMC,Plain City, OH, Oct. 21, 2012]

“Mixed Messages,” (Matthew 11:28-30; 16:24-26; Mark 6:30-37)

September 6, 2012 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

Here’s a trivia question for anyone who is a Beatles’ fan. Can you name a Beatles’ song that talks about preaching? There may be more than one, but the one I’m aware of is “Eleanor Rigby.” One verse of that song says, “Father McKenzie, writing the words to a sermon that no one will hear. No one comes near…” And then comes the haunting refrain “all the lonely people, where do they all come from?” Where do all the lonely people in the world come from? Great question and I don’t know the answer. But I know to whom they come. They come to the church.

Theologian Frederick Buechner says it’s not the presence of God in our lives that keeps us coming back to church; it’s the absence of God, the hunger for spiritual food to fill the God-shaped hole in our lives. We come looking for the rest and renewal Jesus promises in Matthew 11:28-30. Our weary souls leap for joy when we hear Jesus say, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Where do we sign up for that R&R Jesus?

But hold the phone before you get too excited. Just five short chapters later in Matthew that offer seems to have expired as we hear “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” (Matt. 16:24-25) An easy yoke or take up your cross? Which is it Jesus – we’re getting mixed messages here! Almost makes me want to set up an empty chair and have a little imaginary chat with Jesus about this seeming contradiction, but then I realized that gig has already been tried and it didn’t exactly make anyone’s day. And to make matters worse, my research tells me that the verses about rest and the easy yoke appear only in this passage from Matthew. None of the other gospels include it, but the part about self denial and taking up one’s cross, that appears in Mark and Luke also, and Matthew and Luke both have it twice in their gospels to make sure we don’t miss it. And Jesus certainly walks that walk; so the Scriptures are clear that we have to take sacrifice and service to others seriously if we intend to be followers of Jesus.

Which makes me ask again, “where’s the rest for weary laborers in Christ’s vineyard?” We hear the message loud and clear, deny oneself – serve others – be a servant of all. We want to obey and follow, but we’re tired Jesus. We’ve been at this church thing a long time and it often seems hopeless. We feel empty, inadequate, and unable to keep our own soul and body together, let alone respond to the needs of all the lonely, hungry people – there must be 5000 of them!!!!

Where do they all come from? Where do we all come from? Empty nesters trying to cope with houses that are suddenly too quiet, kids in new schools searching for real friends, caregivers for the sick, single parents trying to be breadwinners and heads of household, the underemployed and unemployed, those without purpose and passion. Some of us are struggling with addictions, with problems of aging. Some of us are victims of bullies or peer pressure. Some of us are grieving the death of lifelong partners. All the lonely people.

One of the other things I wish Jesus hadn’t said is that “the poor will be with you always.” (Mt. 26:11, Mk. 14:7) But there is no historical evidence that he was wrong about that. I learned recently that even in the affluent suburb close to my home the number of lonely, hungry people is dramatically increasing. That shouldn’t surprise me, but the numbers did. 750 people per month on average are coming for assistance to the local ecumenical food pantry. 15% of the kids in our suburban school district are on free and reduced lunches, and in two of our school buildings that number is over 50%. And we know the problems are much worse in urban areas and vastly worse in other parts of the human family around the world.

Where do all those people in need come from and how can we possibly feed them all? That’s the question Jesus’ disciples also ask in the familiar story in Mark 6:30-37. Jesus recognizes that the disciples need a break from the ministry they are doing; so he takes them off to a deserted place for some rest, or so he thinks. But apparently someone tweeted or texted their destination because there’s a whole crowd of lonely people waiting for Jesus when they arrive, hungry for his words and his healing presence. Mark tells us they look like a bunch of sheep without a shepherd, and Jesus of course has compassion on them and begins to teach them many things. And when it begins to grow late and folks are getting hungry, the disciples suggest they send the crowds off to McDonalds or Chipotle to fend for themselves. But Jesus looks the disciples right in the eye as only Jesus can look at you, and he says, “YOU give them something to eat.”

“What? You must be kidding Jesus! It would take a week or more wages to feed this crowd. We don’t have that kind of money.” (That’s a loose translation) But Jesus says, “How many loaves have you? Go and see.” (6:38)

There is a story in John Westerhoff’s book, Will Our Children Have Faith; about a young couple who had everything in life except the thing they wanted the most. They loved children and desperately wanted to have a family of their own. But no matter how hard they tried or how many fertility specialists they saw, their sorrow grew with each miscarriage and each passing year of unanswered prayers. Through their years of frustration and disappointment and anger, the person who supported them most through that lonely journey was their parish priest, Father John. He counseled them and prayed with them and walked their path with them each step of the way. And then the miracle happened. When Samantha conceived and was able to give birth to a beautiful baby boy there was no question what they would name him. He was baptized “John,” in honor of the faithful priest who delighted in seeing the little boy grow into the curious toddler who warmed Father John’s heart with his smiles and giggles every Sunday morning.

When Johnny was about two and a half he was out early one morning with his mother, taking the family dog out for his morning exercise. The dog chased a squirrel into the neighbor’s yard, and Samantha went after him. In those two minutes Johnny toddled over into the driveway behind the family car just as his father came rushing out of the house late for work. Tom, unaware Johnny was behind the car backed over his son and killed him instantly.

Father John came to the house as soon as he heard the tragic news and found Tom and Samantha in utter and inconsolable despair sitting on the bed holding each other as they wept. Father John didn’t know what to do or say. No words seemed able to touch the depths of the devastation these grieving parents were engulfed in; so the priest just sat beside them on the bed and cried with them.

A couple of days after he conducted the hardest funeral of his life, Father John stopped by the home to see how Tom and Samantha were doing. He was dreading the visit because he felt that he had been totally inadequate in his pastoral care of them on the darkest day of their lives. So when he reluctantly rang the doorbell he was bowled over when Samantha greeted him warmly and threw her arms around him. She thanked him profusely for all that he had done for them. He said, “But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know what to say. I just sat there and cried.” She said, “You gave us all you had, and it was enough.”

When Jesus sends the disciples out to see how many loaves they have to feed the multitude, he doesn’t ask them to give more than they have, just all that they have. He says, “Go see what you have and bring it to me.” And when they surrender meager five loaves and two fish to him, they must have been thinking there was no way even Jesus could feed over 5000 people with five loaves and two fish.

But they suspended their doubts and gave him all they had, and when Jesus takes it and blesses it, not only is it enough to feed the multitude until they are satisfied, there’s enough leftovers to feed the next batch of lonely, hungry pilgrims already coming down the road.

I played a tough golf course several years ago and laughed when I looked down at one of the sprinkler heads on a long par 5 hole. I knew I was a long way from the green, but where I expected to see the number of yards from that point to the green, instead there were these words from, “All You Got.”

That’s what Jesus gave for us, and what he asks for us in return. I saw a piece of wisdom on Facebook recently that said, “When the going gets tough, we have three choices. We can give up, give in, or give it all we’ve got.”

Did you notice at the Olympics that they never give out any medals for running the 99 yard dash? To give all we’ve got means to finish the race, to stay with the mission of meeting the needs of the hungry and lonely people among us for as long as it takes. I’ve been looking for years in my Bible for the word “retirement.” It isn’t there because as long as we have breath we can give whatever we’ve got, all we’ve got.

We can’t do that if we are fearful and attached to things that don’t satisfy. When Jesus asks us to deny ourselves, what he invites us to surrender is our false sense of self that is defined by our resume or our grade cards or our trophy case or our worldly possessions. Those things have no lasting value, but the eternal peace and rest that comes from following Jesus can never be taken away.

The secret when we feel weary and overwhelmed by the needs around us and within us is to know that God doesn’t expect us to give more than we have. That would be unfair, and we do not serve an unjust God. But I promise you, in Christ’s name, that if we entrust God with all we have, our meager loaves and fishes will be more than enough.

(A sermon preached at Jerome United Methodist Church, Plain City, Ohio, September 2, 2012)

5-Hour or Eagle Energy?, Mark 1:29-39; Isaiah 40:21-31

January 27, 2012 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

Someone once compared ministry to being in a tank of piranhas where nobody wants much of you, but everyone just wants a little piece of your time. That is also a great metaphor for life. Who are the piranhas in your life – kids, parents, boss, teachers, students, the IRS, Facebook friends, customers, clients, telemarketers, the church, charitable organizations, starving children in Somalia, spouse—all of the above? Jesus had the piranha problem often. Mark tells us in the very first chapter of his Gospel that Jesus is going around doing his thing – casting out demons, healing the sick, teaching and preaching, and one morning he needs a break from the demands of his life so much that he goes off before daybreak by himself to pray (Mark 1:35). But his serenity break doesn’t last long. The disciples track him down and try to lay a guilt trip on him. “Everyone is searching for you,” they say. Ever feel that way?

Sometimes we flee from the piranha tank to get away from it all at some popular vacation destination, only to realize when we get there that a million other tourists had the same idea. Modern technology doesn’t help. Being connected to the world 24/7 isn’t how our creator intended for us to be wired. We grow faint and weary from information overload, from legitimate demands on our time, and from too many needs we want to meet and too little energy, time and money to go around.

Jesus “went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” That sentence speaks volumes to me about coping with modern day life stressors. First, finding a deserted place is darn near impossible today. Even at home we have televisions in every room and the omnipresent cell phone, iPod, iPad, or the communication device du jour constantly within easy reach. If you don’t think you’re addicted, ask yourself how you feel when there’s no Wi-Fi close by or no bars on your phone. Or, have you ever realized you’ve left home without your phone and feel naked without it? Secondly, if Jesus needed time alone now and then, why would we ever delude ourselves into thinking that we don’t?

I love the interplay among the lectionary texts for February 5^th even though I’m not sure how to resolve the tension between them. In I Corinthians (9:16-23) Paul tells us he has made himself “a slave to all” and has “become all things to all people.” If that doesn’t sound like a sure fire formula for burn out, what does? By contrast when the disciples find Jesus and interrupt his prayer time with a plea for him to meet the needs of the teeming masses, Jesus answers, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do” (Mk. 1:38). Jesus isn’t distracted from his primary mission and purpose by the demands or desires of others. A more dramatic example of that focus occurs in Luke 9:60 where Jesus says, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God” (See also Matt. 8:22). Jesus clearly knows what his priorities are and how to say “no,” even to legitimate, heart-rending needs around him. Remember that Jesus is not only the Messiah, but he is also fully-human like us and understands our limitations.

Competing commitments muddy human decision-making waters all the time. If every choice of how to spend our time, money and energy was a no brainer between a good and bad option, no problem, we could all do it. But it’s rarely that easy. I wrote a short story for an English class way back in my undergraduate days at Ohio State. The story was about a father who chose to spend little time with his family, but it wasn’t the common workaholic, materialistic-driven absentee dad version of that tale. My variation on the theme was that this father was so busy donating his time to good causes at his church and in his community that he was hardly ever home when his children were awake and had little energy left over for any quality time with his spouse. My English prof didn’t like the premise of the story. He thought it would be more effective if the option between good and bad life choices was more clearly drawn. 40 years later, I still think choosing between two worthy causes is more common and much harder to do than opting for something that is obviously the more noble of two forks in the road.

Now the “so what” question. What does this all mean for 21^st century Christians caught on the treadmill of life that just keeps going faster and faster? Where’s the emergency red button that stops the world so we can get off? And if you think this is a new problem for our over-stimulated generation, Google “Stop the World, I Want to Get Off.” That’s the title of a musical and movie made in the early 1960’s about exactly what the title says and what Mark wrote about over 2000 years ago.

Interestingly enough, the problem is even older than that. The Hebrew text (Isaiah 40) for this Sunday, written some 500 years before Jesus’ time, addresses the same problem. “Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted (Isa. 40:30). So, let’s not feel special or put upon. This is a human problem that transcends time, age, generations and cultures. God knew from the beginning we were going to have problems with knowing when to take a day off and sets a clear example for us to follow by resting on the 7^th day of creation (Gen. 2:2). Honoring ourselves with Sabbath rest is so important it ranks in God’s Top Ten list, right up there with not killing, stealing, committing adultery, etc.

So why is this so hard? We all know we need rest and re-creation time. The problem is actually living it. For far too much of human history we have wasted valuable time and energy arguing among ourselves about which day is the true Sabbath and what constitutes resting, instead of just doing it. Please note that how we recharge our physical and spiritual batteries is different for different people. I am an introvert, and I need quiet solitude to be refreshed and renewed. Extroverts, on the other hand, find a loud party or a rock concert very energizing. Whatever is restful and renewing for you – find time to do it on a regular basis. You’re worth it. God says so and Jesus shows us.

I love the way Isaiah puts it. After that verse about even young people getting exhausted, Isaiah says, “but those who wait for the lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like Eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint” (40:31). The secret is waiting for the Lord. Waiting is not easy for our instant gratification culture. We will spend good money we don’t have to upgrade from 3G to 4G, whatever that means, to save a few nanoseconds of download time. We don’t wait well. Waiting means surrendering control and none of us want to go there. But I would suggest that we don’t really have a choice. We can either surrender control to Microsoft or the Messiah, to piranhas or peace. Instant gratification lasts an instant or two. Eternal life endures forever.

Finally, like most of life, this is not really an either/or choice, but both/and. The final verse of the text from Mark for this week tells us Jesus didn’t choose A or B. “And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues AND casting out demons” (1:39). How could he do both? First, he knew that proclaiming the Gospel by word and deed is one way of combating the evil demons that threaten humankind. Secondly, Jesus knew how to say “no” to the demands of the world, take time to wait upon the Lord, and renew his strength so he could soar with the eagles. May it be so for you and me as well.

Fish Tale and Forgiveness, Jonah 3:1-10

January 19, 2012 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

Last week’s text from I Samuel raised a tough question: are some sins beyond forgiveness? I hadn’t looked ahead in the lectionary then but was pleased to find that the Hebrew text from Jonah for this week offers a great response to that question.

Ask most people what they know about Jonah, and you will get “Jonah and the whale” as their response. It’s a familiar story kids learn about and sing about in Sunday School, but it is more than a big fish story (which is what the Hebrew says, not a “whale” per se). I’m not a fisherman, but I’ve always been attracted to Jonah and even chose it as the text for the first sermon I ever preached, way back in 1969. At the time my wife asked me why that text. She said, “What does that story mean for us today?” My response, “Don’t go swimming with big fish.”

Of course, it means much more than that if we take time to ask some basic questions, like what was Jonah doing in the water and why was he swallowed by the big fish? It’s a very short story, only 3 pages, and it makes much more sense if read in its entirety. But here’s the abridged version:

God calls Jonah and tells him to go on a mission to Nineveh.
Jonah doesn’t want to go and jumps on a ship headed for Tarshish (in the exact opposite direction) instead.
God is not pleased and causes a storm at sea, and when the sailors learn that Jonah is the reason for God’s displeasure, they throw Jonah overboard.
God appoints a big fish to swallow Jonah. (Not to punish him, by the way, but to save him and give him time to reconsider God’s offer.)
After 3 days God has the fish spit Jonah out; and Jonah decides this time he’d better listen to God, heads for Nineveh and delivers God’s message.
The people of Nineveh heed Jonah’s warning, repent of their sins, and are forgiven and saved from God’s judgment on them.
Jonah pouts because he really wanted God to give the Ninevites hell, not mercy.

So there’s a lot more going on here than Jonah and the fish. It’s a story about a refusal to say yes when God’s wishes are very plain. Jonah’s call is not ambiguous as is sometimes the case. The message from God to Jonah couldn’t be more clear and direct: “Go at once to Nineveh” (1:1). There is no failure to communicate here – just reluctance to obey. And we all know how smart it is to say “no” to God; so why would Jonah even try? To answer that question requires a little history lesson. Nineveh was the capital of Babylon, a hated enemy of the Hebrew people. Ironically, for our contemporary context, Nineveh sat about where modern day Baghdad is located today. Given that context, we know what Jonah was being asked to do was take a warning to the people of Nineveh so they could be forgiven and spared from God’s wrath.

Jonah knew, as he says in 4:2, that Yahweh was a God of mercy and would forgive those hated enemies of his people. Put yourself in Jonah’s place. Fill in your own favorite enemies: liberals, conservatives, 9/11 terrorists, Republicans, Democrats, Tea Partiers, Muslims, Evangelicals, bitter athletic rivals, business competitors, lawyers, former spouses – whoever it is that you would like to be the very last people God would forgive. That’s who Johan is being asked to save and why he is a reluctant prophet who dares to defy a direct order from God. As the story unfolds we see it is one of repentance – Jonah repents of his obedience after God gives him a three-day time out in the smelly innards of a fish. The people of Nineveh repent after they hear Jonah’s message from God. And even God gets in on the act and repents of his judgment against the people of Nineveh.

Which brings us, finally, back to last week’s question about unforgiveable sin. And the answer is “no.” If God can forgive the enemies of his chosen people who destroyed Jerusalem and carried God’s people off into exile, what could be unforgiveable?

Jonah is a foreshadowing of the grace-filled Gospel of Jesus, which turns on its head the vengeful, don’t get mad, get even theology we often prefer in our Jonah-like assessment of who deserves forgiveness. Jesus states that Gospel as clearly as God calls of Jonah. “You have heard it said ‘an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,’ but I say to you, if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” And, ‘You’ve heard it said, ‘love your neighbor and hate your enemy,’ but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:38-44).

That doesn’t sound like a God who would hold anything unforgiveable, does it? That’s the Amazing Grace we sing about that “saves a wretch like me.” So, then why does it say in last week’s text (I Sam. 3:14) that the sins of Eli’s house shall not be atoned for forever? David Stackpole, one of the best students I ever had in preaching class, interpreted that I Samuel text in a way many years ago that made a lot of sense to me then and still does. David pointed out a couple of key words in I Samuel 3:14 that are easy to read over when our attention is captured by the harshness of the other words in the verse. He pointed out that the verse doesn’t say their sins cannot be atoned for; it says they cannot be atoned for “by sacrifice or offering.”

We sometimes fall into the trap of imposing our human limitations on God. Someone once said, “God created us in God’s image, and we return the favor.” In this case those limitations involve too narrow concepts of not only who and what God can forgive, but how. The Hebrew theology of Samuel’s day saw sacrificial offerings as the default means of seeking God’s forgiveness. Ironically, it was Eli’s son’s misuse of sacrificial offerings that got them in hot water. (See last week’s post for details.) Eli’s sons corrupted sacrifice as a means of grace with their own selfishness and deceit; so how could something they had no respect for and had broken trust with be a vehicle for finding their way back to God.

But because humans spoil one gift from God doesn’t mean God can’t come up with others. To put those kind of limits on God would limit God’s power and render God unworthy of our trust. Jonah tried putting parameters on God’s forgiveness, and we see how well that worked for him.

God’s forgiveness cannot be bought with sacrifice or offering. But it can be accepted as a freely given gift by those who are humble enough to know we need it. The Ninevites were forgiven because they repented and admitted their sin (Jonah 4:6-9). There are multiple scriptures that attest to God’s merciful nature. The prophet Isaiah (1:18) says, “Though your sins be as scarlet I will make them white as snow.” Jesus says to his executioners from the cross, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:24). I John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Yes, I know, there are many counter texts that argue for the vengeful God Jonah wished upon his enemies (like we do). Those texts were written by angry men who wanted their enemies to suffer, but be very careful of that two-edged sword. Those who live by that unforgivable doctrine will stand under the same judgment. See living in glass houses and throwing stones?

God’s grace is free. It can’t be earned by bigger checks in the offering plate or making greater sacrifices of our time and effort. It is simply poured out in an overflowing cup for those who repent and truly seek it. What are you waiting for? There is no need to carry that heavy burden of guilt and anger another day. God who can show mercy on reluctant, disobedient Jonah and on his dreaded enemies in Nineveh can certainly forgive us too.

HEARING AND BEING THE VOICE OF GOD: Genesis 1:1-5; Psalm 29; Acts 19:1-7; Mark 1:4-11

January 3, 2012January 3, 2012 by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values

There’s a famous line in the movie “Cool Hand Luke” where a frustrated prison guard tells the prisoner, Luke, “What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.” It’s a great line but not quite true. The problem is not communication; Luke heard the message, he just chose to ignore what the prison guard wanted him to do. I wonder if we have a similar communication problem with God. The lectionary texts for January 8^th are all about communication, in particular about the power of the voice of God. Literally from Day One (Gen. 1:1-5) to the Baptism of Jesus (Mark 1:4-11) to Paul’s ministry in Ephesus (Acts 19:1-7), God speaks and big things happen. And the Psalm for this Baptism of the Lord Sunday, Psalm 29, speaks directly about the power of “Voice of the Lord” seven times in 11 verses and by implication several other times.

Communication scholars describe Speech-Act theory as the phenomenon by which language has the power to create or change reality. Anyone who has ever stood before a clergy person or a justice of the peace and said two little words, “I do,” knows very well that their lives are forever changed from that moment forward. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is a little ditty most of us learned at an early age. The problem is it isn’t true. Words have power to hurt and heal. Most bullying begins with name calling and naming our political or personal enemies in ways that depersonalize and demonize them is the first step toward justifying abusive and unkind treatment that can ultimately lead to violence and death.

The words we use are a matter of life and death, of light and darkness. Psalm 29 contains a whole litany of things that the voice of God can do: thunder, break cedars, fire, shake the wilderness, whirl oaks, strip forests and cause floods. This must be where the insurance companies get their justification for excluding from coverage (read the fine print) natural disasters as “Acts of God.”

I am more interested in what these texts say about the power of God’s voice to transform human lives than I am the cause of natural disasters. Genesis 1 tells us God spoke light into darkness, and that speech act is far more important symbolically than the on-going debate between creationism and evolution. The darkness God expelled on day 1 of creation is wonderful, but a more relevant question is “what has God done for us lately?” There are still far too many black holes of darkness in our world and our hearts today that need the light of God’s powerful voice of truth.

I love this parable by an anonymous author:

A pilgrim asks a wise one about the moment when we can tell darkness from the dawn. “Is it when I can tell the difference between a sheep and a goat?” she asks. “No.”

“Then is it when I can tell the difference between a peach and a pomegranate?”

“No,” says the elder. “When you can look into another’s eyes and say, ‘you are my brother, you are sister,’ that is the dawn. Until then, there is only darkness.”

Both the Mark 1 text and Acts 19 deal with hearing God’s voice through the sacramental act of baptism. Both texts tell us that John the Baptist preached and performed a baptism of repentance and belief in Jesus as the anointed one who came after John. Mark doesn’t address the perplexing question of why Jesus needed a baptism of repentance because that’s not the point of that text, and not the full meaning of baptism. Repentance is a critical first step in transformation, but only a prelude to what an anointed, spirit-led disciple can do. When Paul asks the Christians in Ephesus “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you became believers?” they reply, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” So Paul proceeds to fix that problem but in doing so creates a theological dilemma for us. Paul baptizes those Ephesians a second time. To this day rebaptism is a controversial issue among Christians of different persuasions, along with what kind of baptism counts, how it’s done, at what age, by whom, etc.

Our different opinions on such matters can sometime be humorous. One person, when asked if he believed in infant baptism replied, “Believe in it! I’ve seen it.” Or when my children were young and we were visiting a Baptist church where my daughter was playing in a piano recital. After the recital our son went up to explore the chancel area and came back to excitedly report, “Dad, they have a Jacuzzi up there!”

Let’s put the debates about sprinkling or pouring or immersing aside for now and focus on one key point of the Acts text and Mark’s account of Jesus’ baptism– what the power of the Holy Spirit does to transform lives. It’s not the water or how or when it’s applied that matters, it’s the voice of God and whether we hear it. Jesus’ public ministry begins from the moment he hears the voice of God saying “You are my son….” The question is have we heard God say, “you are my daughter, you are my son, and with you I am pleased?”

Gospel interpreters sometime wonder if Jesus was the only one who heard God’s voice there beside the Jordan. Given God’s propensity to speak in parables and metaphors and in “a still small voice” (I Kgs 19:12), I’d bet he was. And so would Fred Craddock, I believe, who loves to say that when it came to his call to ministry it would have been so much easier if God had called him in a voice loud enough that his friends and relatives could have heard it too.

We liberal, sophisticated Christians are often afraid of the emotion associated with Pentecostal Christianity. But we dare not let that fear make us miss the positive power of the voice, breath, and spirit of God to transform lives. Jesus is transformed into the Messiah at his baptism and empowered by the voice of God to resist every temptation that Satan can throw at him in the wilderness. God’s voice enables Jesus to find his voice to speak truth and salvation as God’s messenger. We don’t know where Jesus was hanging out till he was 30, but we do know that at this pivotal moment Jesus emerges to “shout from the housetops what the Spirit has told him in a whisper” (Matt. 10:27). By the power of God’s voice he is inspired to go public with his ministry with a passion that enabled him to set his face toward Jerusalem’s cross and never look back, even when his closest friends try their best to persuade him to renounce his calling and take an easier route.

And here’s the important point so don’t miss it– it’s not just Jesus who is transformed and empowered by the voice of God. In the text from Acts 19 we see how the ordinary folks in Ephesus are also changed into God’s messengers. “The Holy Spirit came upon them, and they spoke in tongues and prophesied” (19:7). Those are loaded terms that may need clarification. Speaking in tongues for many of us conjures up images of ecstatic nonsense speech that is unfamiliar and incomprehensible. But what if we interpret tongues to mean that these people were on fire for God and spoke with passion about their faith in ways that people of many different cultures and ethnic groups could understand, as they did on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2)? Acts 19 also tells us these new baptizees “prophesied,” another term that can have negative connotations if we take prophesying to mean what psychics who advertise on late night TV do. Biblical prophets are not fortune tellers or crystal ball gazers. A biblical prophet is simply someone who speaks for God. They are those who know God’s truth and are emboldened by God’s presence in their lives to proclaim good news to a world starving for some.

The world needs people in every walk of life who have heard the voice of God and are willing not only to talk that talk but to walk God’s walk. To do that takes incredible courage and faith in a world where people of faith are often aliens in a strange land. To have the courage of our convictions means that all of us, clergy and laity alike are called to witness to our faith by word and action, even when we know the dangers and risks involved in speaking an uncomfortable truth – in love. The risks of that kind of truth are exemplified quite simply in the fact that the Greek word for “witness” is also the word for “martyr.”

All baptized Christians are called to be witnesses and prophets for God, and the enormity of that calling means we all need to be anointed by God’s spirit. We cannot hope to fulfill the ministry we are baptized into without the power of God’s spirit to guide and direct us. God knows we all need a baptism of repentance, but we also need the power of the Holy Spirit to move us from repentance and forgiveness to become proactive messengers who dare to become the voice of God that transforms lives and the world.

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