February 28, 2010

“The Garden of Gethsemane”
Second Message in the 24 Hours Series

What this message today will do is: 1) explore the gospel account of Jesus’ anguished prayer in the garden of Gethsemane; 2) examine the reasons behind his agony and how those explanations inform our understanding of Jesus’ humanity and divinity in the context of the Passion; and 3) consider our own experiences of despair and self-doubt and our struggle to recognize and accept God’s will for us in light of Jesus’ experience at Gethsemane.

Psalm 25:1-2, 16-18
I love you, GOD— you make me strong. GOD is bedrock under my feet, the castle in which I live, my rescuing knight. My God—the high crag where I run for dear life, hiding behind the boulders, safe in the granite hideout. Look at me and help me! I'm all alone and in big trouble.

My heart and kidneys are fighting each other; Call a truce to this civil war. Take a hard look at my life of hard labor, then lift this ton of sin.

Mark 14:26, 32-42
They sang a hymn and then went directly to Mount Olives.

They came to an area called Gethsemane. Jesus told his disciples, "Sit here while I pray." He took Peter, James, and John with him. He plunged into a sinkhole of dreadful agony. He told them, "I feel bad enough right now to die. Stay here and keep vigil with me."

Going a little ahead, he fell to the ground and prayed for a way out: "Papa, Father, you can—can't you?—get me out of this. Take this cup away from me. But please, not what I want—what do you want?"

He came back and found them sound asleep. He said to Peter, "Simon, you went to sleep on me? Can't you stick it out with me a single hour? Stay alert, be in prayer, so you don't enter the danger zone without even knowing it. Don't be naive. Part of you is eager, ready for anything in God; but another part is as lazy as an old dog sleeping by the fire."

He then went back and prayed the same prayer. Returning, he again found them sound asleep. They simply couldn't keep their eyes open, and they didn't have a plausible excuse.

He came back a third time and said, "Are you going to sleep all night? No—you've slept long enough. Time's up. The Son of Man is about to be betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up. Let's get going. My betrayer has arrived."

Before going to the Mount of Olives, Jesus and his disciples sang a song. Mark doesn’t say what song they sang although it would have been customary to have sung those with words like, “Thank GOD because he's good, because his love never quits.” Or “Not for our sake, GOD, no, not for our sake, but for your name's sake, show your glory.”

What if we were to read Psalm 118 and as we read the words, and listened as fellow human beings, were to imagine what those words may have meant to Jesus as he sang them on that agonizing night? [Two part congregational reading of Psalm 118]

Thank God because God IS good. God’s love never, ever, ever quits! Notice the certainty, the trust in those words? Those were the words Jesus sang, the same words the Psalm says those who fear can also sing. We don’t know, but perhaps that song kept coming back to him, a tune he couldn’t get out of his mind, as he prayed that night. Maybe that is the good news of today’s lesson – God is so good, God’s love never quits.

At the Last Supper, Jesus had predicted that one of his disciples would betray him, and afterward as he walked with them he predicted they would deny and desert him. After all they had gone through together, those closest to him these last three years were going to give him up, turn their back on him, and dump him. He was hurt.

However the idea that Jesus was so upset and in anguish or pleading with God might be unsettling to some of us. It suggests a very emotional scene. And it might be equally upsetting to think he asked God to take away the suffering he was about to face – after all he was God’s son who in our minds should have been fearless.

Mark alone provides such a graphic account of Jesus’ agony at Gethsemane. Luke only hints of his anguish and John omits it altogether. It is Mark who wants us to understand that Jesus was human like us, to understand who Jesus was – fully human yet divine.

Adam Hamilton reminds us that “while we speak of Jesus bearing the sins of the world on the cross, the idea is not that the Father literally covered Jesus with all the world’s sins… but rather that the punishment those sins merited were voluntarily taken by Jesus on the cross in order to reconcile us to God.” God did not turn away, but was present - an act of love beyond comprehension and what God had planned all along. God was grieved by it and watching it all unfold, God joined in the suffering of his Son during those hours on the cross. Perhaps that is the good news – God does not leave us but lovingly joins us in our suffering.

Jesus may have experienced anguish because he was wrestling, as he had done in the wilderness, with the temptation of doing something other than what he was being called to do. Remember what it was like sensing God wanted you to do something – perhaps take on a new ministry, leave behind an unhealthy relationship, or to give more than you could really afford to an organization or group in your community. No doubt it took you beyond your comfort level and where you would rather be. That is a time of real anxiety, isn’t there?

Jesus kept hearing a voice inside saying, “Are you sure? Is this really what you want to do? What about what you had planned? Maybe there is another way?” He faced the same turmoil and confusion many of us face in our decisions. And although there is no comfort in that, there can be in knowing God was with Jesus then and is with us now.

Mark tells us, that is when Jesus prayed. It is probably when we have prayed as well. His prayer to God was, “Not what I want, but what you want.” It was a prayer of complete trust, no matter the cost. Imagine our praying the same prayer today?

To pray, no matter what our need – and as the song’s words are repeated over and over in our heads -“God is good; God’s love never quits.” - “Lord, not what I want, but what you want.” Imagine trusting God enough to turn our confused and chaotic life over to God and say, “Lord, do with me whatever you want.” Perhaps the good news is in placing our complete trust in God.

That is exactly what Jesus did. And sometime in the middle of the night the authorities, lead to him by Judas, arrested Jesus. He stood there, abandoned and alone, watching his disciples run away, now ready for what was about begin – as he sang silently to himself: “God is good; God’s love never quits.”

February 21, 2010

Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13

“Out Into the Wilderness”

Once he had been chosen, and led by the Spirit, Jesus entered the Wilderness Olympics. Enduring a Spartan regimen during his training, he found himself always hungry.

At the opening ceremonies, the organizer, Mr. S. Atan, came up to him and said, 'if you are serious about going for the gold, the sponsors have laid out quite a spread in the athlete's area.  You will find all sorts of delightful food.'  Jesus looked him in the eye and replied, 'that is not what I hunger for.'

As the entrance of the athletes from all the nations began, one of the sponsors, Madame D'Evil, sat down next to Jesus.  She leaned over and whispered in his ear, 'the highest honor of the games is to light the cauldron.  You can have the privilege tonight, and the envy of all the athletes, if you will but sign this exclusive contract to be my spokesperson worldwide.'

Jesus got up from his seat, and as he passed her, he reminded her, 'have you forgotten Who my soul sponsor is?'

At the top of the mountain, as Jesus was waxing his skis, and visualizing the journey he must take in the coming moments, the head official of the race, Lucifer Abaddon, sidled up next to him.  Looking out on the course, he promised Jesus, 'If you go throw yourself down the mountain, if you cut all the corners right, if you become reckless, I am sure that your coaches and trainers will make sure you don't suffer.'  Not opening his eyes, Jesus calmly replied, 'don't tempt me to throw you down the mountain.'

Having tried everything they could, Jesus' adversaries left the wilderness, knowing that the Passover Olympics would be held in Jerusalem.

© 2010 Thom M. Shuman

Lent begins on a solemn note, in a barren wilderness, with a story hinting of the common Lenten practices of fasting, giving things up, and spending more time in prayer. The story of Jesus being tested in the wilderness sort of sets the tone for our own Lenten challenge as we once again take the opportunity to re-examine our own priorities as we reflect on where we place our trust and what holds power in our lives.

Barbara Brown Taylor reminds us Lent came about only when early Christians had "stopped expecting so much from God or from themselves.” They became too comfortable, and “before long,” she said, “it was very hard to pick them out from the population at large.” And so, Lent became “a time of spring housecleaning for our souls, of finding out what our "pacifiers" are: "the habits, substances, or surroundings [we] use to comfort [ourselves], to block out the pain and fear that are normal parts of being human…. It is necessary...to find out what life is like with no comfort but God."

However, today’s gospel lesson is not about the Lenten journey - it is only where we start. What the wilderness story has always been about is what God is doing out there. The story is about who Jesus is. We heard the voice from heaven at Jesus' baptism, and then again last week, saying he is the Son of God. Today's lesson is about the why of Jesus’ ministry - not his grabbing power for himself, or showing off how much he matters to God, or working great magic for the masses. That's not why he was there.

After Jesus' baptism, he goes out, led by the Holy Spirit, both in and with him, to a long time of reflection and fasting in the wilderness. I have been watching athletes from all over the world, who have gone through all kinds of trials and tests in preparation for what they were going to do at the Winter Olympics in Vancouver. Likewise, I can imagine Jesus’ time in the wilderness prepared him for what he was going to do as well.

In Luke we get a sense of the struggle, the test, Jesus faces. What he is offered from his "friend" are things that sound perfectly reasonable and good at first. After all, why shouldn't Jesus satisfy his hunger with a little bread, and wouldn't it be great if Jesus ruled the world (instead of those who did), and how impressive would it be if Jesus flung himself off the temple roof and a thousand angels came to rescue him? That would pretty much seal it for him, right?

I can picture Jesus - hungry and alone and wondering about his future - hearing a seductive voice from deep within himself, offering all these "good" things, perhaps even helpful things for his ministry. N.T. Wright refers to this voice as “a string of natural ideas in his own head… (all) plausible, attractive… which make … a lot of sense." For Jesus, it is a very personal and human struggle – a struggle he definitely wins. But is that really the point – or is it instead what God is doing here?

Perhaps this whole Lent thing is out-dated and no longer relevant. Not only is its discipline hard, its inward directed reflection unsettling - it seems really old-fashioned to "give something up" for Lent. Wouldn’t it be better to do good works, or to rest, or to grow spiritually, rather than making sacrifices and giving things up? Dianne Bergant writes: "Lent is not a season for us to concentrate on what we are going to do to be saved; it's less a time for us to be doing religious 'things' than for us to be open to the transformative 'things' God wishes to do for us."

Put that way, how could Lent now be outdated? When Lent helps us discover how and why we do what we do, and who is really in charge – how could it ever not be relevant? In the wilderness we discover we don’t have to be on our own. Bergant says, “we have Lent each year, so that again and again God can offer us the salvation that only God can give."

So, the story of Jesus being tested in the wilderness is about his being the Son of God, and not about setting an example for us. Our struggle is to be faithful and to grow deeper in our trust in our God – during those times we ‘hunger’ for things, especially when we are "famished." That is when we are "vulnerable" to thinking we have to do something about it rather than ‘leaving it up to God.’ Other times, we face the temptation to prove our worth – to prove we are effective, prove we are beloved, and prove we are on top of things. And yet we only have to open ourselves to God working for us.

Our Lenten journey should always be one of examination and trust – and that is not easy. We all have our particular addictions, our “comfort food.” - the things Barbara Brown Taylor says, "We use to fill the empty place inside of us that belongs to God alone - ." What if we could give them up for forty days, and "simply pay attention to how often our mind thinks about them? What if we were serious about it? Chances are we would hear a voice ‘deep inside us’ warning us against giving up our pacifier, our ‘comfort food.’ Yet it is then we allow God to work through this Lenten practice to shape our faith into one that endures and thrives, no matter what is going on around us, or what happens in our lives, or what we encounter out there, in the wilderness.

John Stendahl, describes well the wilderness in which Jesus was tested, and in which we ourselves wander, at one time or another: "For the desert is not God-forsaken nor does it belong to the devil. It is God's home. The Holy Spirit is there, within us and beside us. And if we cannot feel that spirit inside of us or at our side, perhaps we can at least imagine Jesus there, not too far away, with enough in him to sustain us, enough to make us brave."

With that in mind, let’s go out into the wilderness.

February 14, 2010

2 Corinthians 3:12–4:2; Luke 9:28-36 (37-43)

“Listen To Him”

Today is Valentines Day – when love reigns, but it is also Transfiguration Sunday – when awesome reigns. It is the day the church remembers and celebrates Jesus’ transfiguration when standing on a mountain, flanked by both Moses and Elijah, his clothes turn dazzling white. In a way our observance of the transfiguration of Jesus acknowledges our desire, as well as our need, to be in the presence of a transcendent, awe-inspiring God.

His disciple Simon Peter is beside himself, he is amazed by what he has seen and responds by wanting to do something right away - which of course is all wrong. Peter is all excited about what he has seen. He’s energized. He’s ready to do what any of us might do. But instead of the ‘go ahead,’ God’s answer to Peter is “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” Listen to him? So, what was it Jesus had just told them? He has called them to stop and pray. And earlier he told them what would be expected of them. What Jesus understood his and their calling to be was different from what his disciples understood and this voice from above says, “Listen to him!”

Peter was definitely ‘in the moment,’ he was pumped, he knew what to do, and he was ready to do it. But a voice drowning out his said, “Don’t put this experience in a “box” to preserve it. LISTEN TO HIM. What’s he been saying? In other words, the voice sounded a lot like Saint Paul in my earlier years who sang, “slow down, you move too fast… you gotta make the morning last.” Peter’s immediate response is to do something without first keeping still enough to know what’s really going on. Simon Peter, like all of us sometimes, had it all wrong.

The story of the transfiguration reminds us that whenever we think we know how to handle the amazing and unexplainable presence of God in our lives – we don’t. Instead, we should just clear our mind of all the ideas we have of God and LISTEN to him – to listen to what Jesus has really said. His presence in our life is way beyond our control, and God’s plans for us are way beyond anything we might ever imagine. Instead of designing monuments or building ‘boxes’ to put God in, we should be asking, “Hello, lamp post, what ya knowing… I've come to watch your flowers growing.” There’s that voice again, trying to slow us down!

Kosuke Koyama wrote, “God walks ‘slowly’ because he is love” and he says, “Love has its speed. It is an inner speed. It is a spiritual speed. It is a different kind of speed from the technological speed to which we are accustomed . . . It goes on in the depth of our life, whether we notice or not.” Maybe that was Peter’s problem: he was going 100 mph and God was walking along at three miles per hour - the speed of love. When you “got no deeds to do, no promises to keep” – when you take time to listen – ‘all IS groovy.” Or so the voice sings.

Scholars tell us God's voice is heard by the disciples there on the mountain, but God's power is dramatically revealed in what happens below, where people are suffering. Listening to him, we get a glimpse of whom we are following up there, and - “listening” - a look of what we are following him to down here. Our experience of God then, rather than being for our own benefit, is instead linked to a ‘real response’ to the suffering of the world. "The more open we are to God," N.T. Wright cautions, "the more we seem to be open to the pain of the world.” That may not be what we have in mind, but if we do listen to him, it is what we have been called to.

Barbara Brown Taylor (Home by Another Way) says that what all of us are after is an experience of the “living God.” She says we have had enough explanations of God, what we want is “to come face to face with the real thing” in a place “where God is no absentee landlord but a very clear presence (here and now).”

Jesus models for us just that kind of God – the image of an ever-present God. Paul spoke to the Colossians, and to us, about the freedom that comes from our transformation into the very same image of Christ. It’s not a transfiguration he is talking about, but it is something equally as awesome – our transformation into the reflected image of Christ. Stop and think for a moment about what that means. It means: God ever present in us. It means looking into a mirror and seeing Christ in us. It means God’s response to the world’s suffering through us. It means, above all, God’s love in us.

Author and theologian Thomas Merton wrote, “We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent, and God is shining through it all the time.” That light shinning through came in the person of Christ, who taught that the kingdom of God was a revolution of love that would eventually free all of creation from slavery to sin and death. His death and resurrection would bring about a “new creation.” Paul says it is this hope that allows those who are in Christ to “act with great boldness.” The presence of God, the work of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit all result in our transformation.

Paul reminds us that, in Jesus, God’s mission in the world comes to life and is in fact a proclamation of God’s plan of liberation for all of creation. He is saying God’s Spirit brings “freedom,” but what kind of freedom is it that requires so much of us? It seems counter-intuitive to think freedom comes from our obedience to Christ which requires our listening to him rather than listening to ourselves.

Put another way, the more we live into the mission of God - of loving other as we love ourselves, the more we engage the Spirit and allow him to work in us and through us, and the more we are freed up to realize our true purpose as kingdom and new covenant people. Listen to him.

On this Valentine’s Day, we are reminded that God loves the whole world and calls us to love it with the same kind of sacrificial, joy-filled and transformational love that Jesus modeled so well. God has set us free in Christ, and it’s up to us to use that freedom to participate with God in making the kingdom a reality “on earth as it is in heaven.” Listen to him.

“Life, I love you, all is groovy.”

February 7, 2010

1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11

“Out Into the Deep Water”

We’re called to deep water, not the shallows.

Luke sets the scene: Jesus is standing by the lake of Gennesaret (gehn-NEHS-uh-reht), as the crowd presses closer to hear God’s word. Standing there, Jesus sees two fishing boats — both empty because the fishermen had left to wash their fishing nets. So Jesus gets into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asks Simon to push the boat away from the shore a bit. Then from this boat anchored in shallow water, Jesus begins teaching the crowd who are on the shore.

After he is done, he tells Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch” (v. 4). The lesson is not over yet! By instructing Simon to go out into the deep water, he’s saying that the real possibilities (of spiritual growth and getting closer to God) are where life gets deep and risky. That is what Jesus invites us, as a church, to do as well – to take a chance, to be bold, and to be active – to go out into the deep water.

So when Jesus tells him to do this, what does Simon say? He says, “Lord, we have worked all night…” It isn’t what he says, but how he says it – that lets us know Simon is reluctant to go. He is tired after a long day of fishing, the nets have been cleaned and put away, and now Jesus says, “Go, out there in the deep water.” But, Simon goes. He does what Jesus says. And they catch so many fish their nets are ready to break, and they fill both boats so they are about to sink.

What happens is unexpected; it is amazing. Two boat loads of fish! And all because Simon and the others were willing to go where Jesus had told them – out into the deep water.

That’s the gospel lesson today: to venture forth beyond hearing the Word from our safe shallows and to go out into the deep water of Christian discipleship. That’s where there is abundance and growth – out into the deep water. That’s where surprising discoveries about our selves and the world around us can be made as we reach out to our families, friends and neighbors with the gospel message.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 20th century theologian, has said, “Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.” Discipleship is sharing our experience of God. It is asking, “Has following Christ made any difference in my life?” and if so, wanting to share ‘that difference’ so others might experience ‘a difference’ in their lives as well. Rather than getting people to accept our beliefs, we need only share and live the Word that has transformed our life.

People who witnessed Jesus’ ministry firsthand could "see" and "feel" what he did. They reacted to both his words and his deeds. Maybe that is why today people are turned off by a church lacking consistency between its words and deeds - hearing ‘welcome’ they feel excluded, hearing ‘nonjudgmental’ they feel judged; or hearing ‘open doors’ they feel only a wall. Could that be why “our nets are empty.”

Evangelism is about relationships – old and new – waiting for us somewhere out there in the deep water. It is about our relationship with God and one another and wanting to share that connectedness with others. As a congregation, we must always find creative ways to reach out and embrace those who may be lacking those connections.

There are those waiting for us – out into the deep water – people like Folk/Rock singer Bob Dylan who once said,

“Jesus tapped me on the shoulder and said, Bob, why are you resisting me? I said, I'm not resisting you! He said, You gonna follow me? I said, I've never thought about that before!”

Imagine, all the people in this world who, like Dylan, have never thought about that before, waiting for us – not to hook them and drag them in, but to show them God’s love – and then just waiting for their being caught in the net of God's vision and grace."

We could go out into the deep water in a lot of ways, like: whenever we go on short-term mission trips, whenever we commit ourselves to helping children who seek stability in their lives, whenever we form a men’s spiritual ‘fishing’ community, or whenever we create alternative worship services to reach the unchurched of our community – which require an active and risk-taking spirit – a willingness to “go out into the deep water.”

It is important for the church to venture out, beyond the shallows because discipleship is risky business with great rewards. The abundant life Christ desires for us is never realized by staying where we are. Abraham Heschel said it well when he wrote:

 “Religion declined not because it was refuted, but because it became irrelevant, dull, oppressive, insipid.  When faith is replaced with creed, worship by discipline, love by habit; when the crisis of today is ignored because of the spender of the past, when faith becomes an heirloom rather than a living fountain; when religion speaks only in the name of authority, rather than with the voice of compassion--its message is meaningless.  (Abraham Heschel. From God in Search of Man The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1955, p.3)

What has been our message?

Despite the risks involved in going “out into the deep waters,” we are called to it – to new ministry, to new insights, and to new experiences of our own authenticity. If we are going to grow in our understanding of what it means to be the church, we MUST venture out and take a few chances as we allow ourselves to follow Jesus in faith – out into the deep water.

Where we are called to may be unexpected, places we would rather not go, places that may be uncomfortable or dangerous, or places where we could get in over our heads. And our going may change who we are here. There will be uncertainties – all the things that could go wrong or the people who might be upset. Maybe we would be better off just calling it a day and staying here, in the shallow water, hanging our nets up for the day, and brooding about the lousy results of our efforts. There is some risk out there.

And yet we are encouraged by the good news of today’s gospel story – of the abundance that awaits us when we do go out into the deep water, where God calls us to a new ministry that will transform lives, including our own and will lead to the transformation of the world God so loves. This is who we are and who we have been called to be - “fishers of all people.”