Christ the King Sunday Sermon: "Jesus: Born this Way"

November 25, 2012, Christ the King Sunday

John 18:33-37

“Jesus: Born This Way” 

 Preacher Carrie Smith

 Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

It’s pretty clear that Pilate didn’t “get” Jesus at all. Faced with an unusual prisoner who was known for his preaching and his miracles, rumored to be a prophet, but whose own followers had willingly given him up and who refused to fight for his life, the best Pilate could come up with was, “You’re not from around here, are you?” Pilate was desperate to make sense of Jesus, to give him a title, a category, and ultimately a role he could recognize in his tightly-controlled world. “So…you’re a king, right?” 

Ever since Jesus was born, people have been trying to corner him, label him, sanitize him, bend his message to fit an agenda or a culture, or use his authority for economic or political gain. 

Take just a moment to consider all the different organizations, clubs, political movements, preachers, and kings who have elevated Jesus as their spokesperson in order to justify their actions, to lend credibility to their causes, or to gather new members for their particular group.

Jesus has been heralded as the reason to uphold slavery and to denounce it, to put women into their place and then to give them the vote. Jesus has been honored by the right and the left, quoted by presidents of every party, and had his name affixed to churches with varying levels of adherence to what we would recognize as the Gospel. 

And at this time of year, it’s the retailers who claim Jesus as king. Now, I know that some believe our culture has become devoid of its supposed Christian heritage, and that we are somehow on a slippery slope to an atheist existence because we attempt to allow for some measure of equality in public places: allowing a menorah alongside a nativity scene, for example.

But I’ll tell you that I feel far more frustrated with the way Jesus is co-opted, confused, and manipulated for purposes that have nothing to do with the Gospel, especially at this time of year.

“Don’t forget: Jesus is the reason for the season!” We see this little motto everywhere, starting about the middle of October (apparently, Jesus is the reason for Halloween, too!) This catchy phrase is pulled out every year in the attempt to get me to buy, buy, buy, to show my allegiance to Jesus. The thing is, I do, in fact, believe Jesus is the reason for the season. But I don’t need Jesus to be on my wrapping paper. I don’t need Jesus and Santa to magically show up together in nativity scenes. I don’t care if checkout girls wish me a Merry Christmas, as long as they ring up all my coupons. And as far as I’m concerned, it will be a happy day when we have a Charlie Brown special for the end of Ramadan—because everybody knows, you can never have enough Charlie Brown and Snoopy. 

It’s fun to laugh at these things, but on this Christ the King Sunday, it would be good for us to do a little soul-searching about what we believe. Is Jesus the reason for the season, or is he the reason for our existence? Is Christ the mascot for the month of December, or is he the king of our lives? 

Just to be clear, when Christians say “Christ is King”, we aren’t saying “Our religion is better than yours” or “My prophet can beat your prophet to a pulpit.”  “King” is also not just an honorary title or a sign of respect. Proclaiming Christ as King is an audacious, dangerous claim.

Even the history of Christ the King Sunday in our liturgical year is an audacious one. This is in fact a relatively recent commemoration, having been instituted by the Catholic Church in 1925. When the calendar first included Christ the King Sunday, state control over the church was increasing in many countries. Stalin and Mussolini were names in the news, and Hitler had just published Mein Kampf. It was a gutsy move for Pope Pius XI to declare to the people of the time that Christ is King, over and above any dictator! Christ the King Sunday was to be a reminder to people both inside and outside the church that our allegiance is to Christ. 

Theologian John Dominic Crossan has said that this is the entire message of the Gospels: “Not Caesar, but Christ.” If Jesus is king, then Caesar can’t be. But if Jesus’ followers were subject to him, then it was a threat to the current administration. If Christ is King, then it’s time for a regime change. Pilate himself was so eager for Jesus to name himself a king because, if he would only admit it, then it would be much easier to sentence him to death and silence him forever.

And Pilate was happy to have a reason to silence Jesus, because Jesus had been doing what he was born to do. Jesus, son of a carpenter, born of a virgin, of no royal heritage whatsoever, had been testifying to the truth…and the truth hurts. 

The truth of the Gospel hurts those in power. The truth of the Gospel hurts the rich. The truth of the Gospel hurts all who would use, ignore, or oppress the weak, the poor, the widow, the orphan, the sick, and the outcast. This is a truth that is not easily made into a campaign slogan or reduced to a retailer’s sale flyer.

As we enter the Christmas season in our culture, and the Advent season in our church, the excitement and thrill of expectation is all around us. We can feel it: Jesus is about to born again, in our hearts, in our homes, and in the world! This is a perfect time for Christians to consider once again what Jesus, our king, was born to do. 

Sisters and brothers, Jesus was not born to be our favorite character in this Christmas special. For this he was born: to testify to the truth! 

Christ our King said: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10)

For this he was born: to testify to the truth!

Christ our King said: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free. (Luke 4:18)

 

For this he was born: to testify to the truth! 

Christ our King said: “‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)

For this he was born: to testify to the truth!

Christ our King said: “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:26-28)

For this he was born: to testify to the truth!

Christ our King said: “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” (Mark 10:21) 

For this he was born: to testify to the truth!

Christ our King said: “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” (Luke 6:22) 

For this he was born: to testify to the truth!

Christ our King said: “Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life.” (John 6:47)

For this he was born: to testify to the truth! 

Sisters and brothers, fellow saints, Jesus Christ has come into the world to testify to the truth. For this he was born. For this he was crucified! And for this we are gathered today: to worship and honor the King who rules not by might but by love; who desires mercy, not sacrifice; and who claims as his own all who listen to his voice. Amen.

Thanksgiving Eve 2012

Thanksgiving Sermon – "Heaven is a Piefest"

  Preacher: Pastor Paul Cannon

 Joel 2:21-27, 1 Timothy 2:1-7, Matthew 6:25-33

Good evening!  I want you all to know – first and foremost – that I take some things more seriously than others – and one of the things I take most seriously is pie. In college, I once made up a list of “Rules for Dorm Life” which was really just silly and ridiculous things that people needed to do in order to enter our dorm.  I included the following rule in this list that perhaps demonstrates exactly how much I value pie in my life.  

 

The rule said, “Upon entering our dorm room, friends must present a pie to be donated to its occupants – or be refused entry.”  That’s right, in college if forced to make a decision between pie and friends, I had it in writing that I would choose pie.  As you might imagine, this rule didn’t go over so well with my friends … and though it mostly garnered eye rolls from them, it did actually net us a pie or two, so I chalk that one up as a win in my book.

And so when I heard for the first time that our church has something that we call “Piefest” – well, I knew that I had finally found a place that I could call home.  In fact, just last night, the Bethany church sign actually read as follows “Worship Pie.  7pm.” As much as I love pie, it never occurred to me that I should worship it in any form. I mean, I thought that I took pie seriously, but Bethany Lutheran Church clearly has taken devotion to our favorite Thanksgiving desert to a whole new level.  I suppose I have a lot to learn.

One thing that I have learned about pie, is that like most anything else in this world, it comes and goes in waves. One day you have a freshly made pecan pie – wafting scents of cinnamon and vanilla as it comes out of the oven - with a perfectly flaky, golden brown crust, topped with expertly roasted pecans and a dab of cool whip … (takes a sip of water) excuse me, all this talk about pie is making my mouth water …  Then day after day, the pie disappears into the abyss until suddenly all you’re left with is an empty tin dish containing only crumbs that serve as bitter reminders of all the pie that you used to have – and you want to have again.

Well, maybe it’s not a perfectly analogy, but we often live we are down to our last slice of pie.  If you have siblings you probably know what it means to live like this – my brother calls it the Law of the Jungle.  That is – when you’re sitting down at the table with your family – if you want to get that last slice of pie, you probably need to be the biggest, baddest, quickest, meanest animal in the jungle.  And even if that last slice is sitting on your plate – (dramatic whisper) you’re never safe. If you turn your head, you’d better be prepared to stab somebody with your fork otherwise a thief will likely break off a chunk of crust and caramelized apple.  That’s living in fear.  

As you might imagine though, that’s not how God operates.  That’s not what God desires for your life.  You see, I think that God wants you to live every day as if it’s a piefest. God wants you to live without worrying over our last slice.  God wants us to live as if there is always a freshly baked apple, or pecan or cherry pie that is coming right out of the oven.  

God wants you to live trusting that he will provide.  “Do not worry.” we heard Jesus say in our gospel lesson today, “Look at the sparrows.  They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns – and yet your heavenly father feeds them.”

 If God provides for little birds, how much will God provide for you? God knows that you need money and a job to live. God knows that you need to be able to put food on the table for your family. God knows that you need a home and a roof over your head to protect you from the elements.  But when we live as if we’re down to our last slice of pie – when we live with our forks raised in striking position, ready to stab the next person that comes close to your flaky treasure – when we live this way, we live contrary to God’s will.  

Which is why Jesus concludes his parable with a promise.  He says, “But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Strive first for the kingdom.  Give shelter to the homeless.  Give food to the hungry. Give love to the unloved. Give pie to the unpied! Strive first for the Kingdom, and trust that God will provide for you, in this life and the next.  Go live without worry – as if everyday were a piefest.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.  And please –  go and enjoy yourself a slice of pie.

Amen

November 18, 2012: "The End of the World As We Know It"

November 18, 2012

Mark 13:1-8

"The End of the World As We Know It" 

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

As Jesus came out of the supermarket, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, at this tall stack of Twinkies! Taste how delicious they are! See how they never, ever, decompose! Look how they remain eternally soft and cream-filled, after sitting on our shelves for months and even years!” 

And Jesus asked him: “Do you see these Twinkies? Not one will be left on the grocery store shelves. All will be eaten, and no more shall be made.”

A little bit later, as Jesus was sitting in the parking lot across from the store, Peter, James, John and Andrew asked him privately, “Tell us, when will this be? And what will be the sign that this is about to happen?”

And Jesus began to say to them…

Actually, Jesus didn’t say anything at all about Twinkies! But he did say something about how impressed we are by things that seem to be permanent fixtures in the world.  Stepping out of the temple that day in Jerusalem, the disciples couldn’t stop looking at the large stones and tall buildings that were so different from their neighborhoods by the sea. They must have looked like skyscrapers to a bunch of fishermen. But Jesus swiftly turned their attention back to him, and to his mission.

“Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another. All will thrown down.”
In that one short response, Jesus reminded his disciples that what we deem to be impressive, untouchable, indestructible, permanent, and even sacred, will one day be gone forever, thrown down, and turned upside down.

One day—sooner than we thought, it seems—Twinkies will be no more.

Already, our beloved Marshall Field’s has been replaced by Macy’s.

Black Friday shopping has been taken over by “Gray Thursday.”

And even our generals and war heroes turn out to be just as human as the rest of us.

That’s right: here we are, in November 2012, with the end of the Mayan calendar just one month away, and Twinkies are soon to be extinct.  There are wars and rumors of wars in Israel and Palestine, Iran and Syria. There are earthquakes in various places, and even our sisters and brothers as near as Chicago are experiencing famine, with the rise of food deserts within the city.

So is this the end of the world? And if it is, what does Jesus have to say about it? Tell us, Jesus—when will all this take place, and what will be the sign that all this is about to be accomplished?

Unfortunately, Jesus didn’t give Peter, James, John and Andrew the secret knowledge they were hoping for, and I’m afraid I don’t have any predictions for you, either. But I can tell you that what Jesus did say was that in the face of trials and tribulations, earthquakes and wars, and even the end of the world, Christians are to “beware”, but to “not be alarmed.”

“Beware that no one leads you astray,” Jesus began to say, “for many will come in my name saying, “I am he!” and will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birthpangs.”

Now there have been many sermons preached on this text, sermons which warned Christians to beware of following the wrong preacher, of joining a heretical church, or of rejecting orthodox theology in favor of the newest liberalism. But I don’t think this is what Jesus was getting at. After all, the disciples were in no danger of following a radical, heretical, unorthodox preacher—they were already doing that!

Rather, Jesus knew his disciples faced a reality that is still true today, which is this: When things we think are permanent start to fall apart, we start to fall apart, too.

When the things we think are sacred and untouchable are suddenly gone, we get scared. We try to hang on to what we know. And we are easily swayed by those who tell us “the end is near.” This is why Twinkies are flying off the shelves of supermarkets and gas stations. It’s why people are protesting the new Thanksgiving Day shopping deals (not because of worker justice, mind you, but because we hold Black Friday to be, and I quote, “the holiest day in retail”.) And it’s why the news outlets can’t seem to get enough details about the general’s other woman, the “other” other woman, and the shirtless secret agent.

Every day, it seems, we are reminded of the truth that: “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God stands forever.”  (Isaiah 40:8) And it’s also true that when the things, or traditions, or people we thought were eternal and perfect turn out to be withering grass and fading flowers, we don’t know how to respond.

What does Jesus mean when he tells Christians to “beware” and yet “not be alarmed?” What do we do when the things we thought we could count on are falling down around us? What do we do if the world as we know it is going to end?

There are many examples and illustrations from the great theologians attempting to answer this question. The most famous, for Lutherans at least, is the oft-quoted motto from Martin Luther himself, who purportedly said, “If I knew the world would end tomorrow, I would plant a tree today.”

And there’s this one, perhaps more familiar to our Catholic sisters and brothers: One day, Saint Thomas Aquinas, the great teacher and philosopher, and his Dominican brothers were gathered for their hour of recreation. They were all talking, laughing, and enjoying one another's company before going back to their work, prayer, and study. Someone asked Saint Thomas, "If the world were to end in fifteen minutes, what would you do?" He replied, "I would continue doing exactly what I am doing right now…(with faith, hope, and love.)”

And then, there’s this quote, from a lesser-known theologian—Queen Latifah—from the movie “Last Holiday”:  “Next time, we’ll laugh more, we’ll love more, and we just won’t be so afraid.”

Now, I would apologize for including Queen Latifah in a list with Luther and Aquinas, but it just so happens that I was watching this movie last night as I edited this sermon. And it also happens that Queen Latifah, in this silly Christmas movie, more closely echoes Jesus than either Luther or Aquinas.

In case you haven’t seen this movie, you should know that Queen Latifah’s character, Georgia Byrd, has been told she has only three weeks to live. Her whole life she has lived conservatively, even fearfully, never spending a dime, never taking a risk, and never allowing herself to love. Instead, she has kept magazine clippings of things she wished she could do in her “Book of Possibilities.”

But with the news that her world was about to end, Georgia Byrd cashed in all her savings and set out to make all her possibilities into reality, in whatever time she had left.

She flew to Czechoslovakia to stay at her dream hotel. She went skiing and base jumping. She ate butter—tons of butter!—and most importantly, she started to speak her mind, and to love the people around her.
In other words: she stopped living in fear. “Next time,” she said to herself, “we just won’t be so afraid.”

Jesus has said that a time or two himself.

“‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Luke 12:32
“Do not fear. Only believe, and she will be saved.” Luke 8:50
“Do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.” Luke 12:7
“Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” Luke 5:10
"Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me." Matthew 28:10

And…in Mark chapter 13 (the Message Version):
“When you hear of wars and rumored wars, keep your head and don't panic! This is routine history, and no sign of the end.”

I admit, I won’t lose any sleep over the demise of the Twinkie, and I couldn’t care less about the Mayan calendar. But I am more than concerned at what’s happening in Israel and Palestine. I’m horrified when I hear of children going hungry—in Crystal Lake, in Chicago, or anywhere in the world. It’s hard not to be alarmed at the violence all around us, not to mention the hurricanes, earthquakes, and floods that seem to come with increased force and frequency.

And yet, as a follower of Jesus and a person of faith in God, I know these events are no invitation to begin doomsday prepping. This is no time to hoard food, to countdown days, to preach catastrophe, or to live in fear. “This is no sign of the end.” said Jesus. “This is just the beginning of labor.”

Sisters and brothers, it’s no accident that we hear these apocalyptic verses of Scripture just before Advent. Today is a reminder that what we are waiting for during Advent is not just the baby Jesus. The birth of Jesus, our crucified and risen Savior, turned the whole world upside down, but this is not the end of the story. We are preparing, as people of faith, for what God is going to give birth to next. We are preparing for the day when mourning and crying and pain will be no more, when all the hungry will be fed, when the lion and the lamb will lie down together, and when peace will reign over all the earth---in our hearts, in our families, in our communities, and even in the land of Jesus’ birth.

Therefore, let us go forth with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that God’s hand is leading us and God’s love is supporting us, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Be not afraid! Amen.

November 11, 2012: Living Courageously

 

November 11, 2012: 24th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 12:38-44

"Living Courageously - The Offerings of the Widows"

PREACHER: Pastor Paul Cannon

 (Drops two coins in the can and pauses for a moment)

Those are the sounds of a poor widow’s last remaining coins. 

In our gospel story today, Jesus is in the temple preaching and teaching, and then he goes and sits down to watch for a moment.  And what Jesus sees, is a woman who is down to her last dollar – in fact – she’s down to her last pennies. 

Maybe you can imagine such a person – maybe you’ve seen such a person holding signs on a street corner – maybe you know some poor soul (a neighbor?) who has lost everything – maybe you’ve been there yourself.  You all know what poverty looks like – even if you haven’t experienced it yourselves – and if you have any sense at all you are probably afraid of it.

We fear poverty, because we know what it looks like.  We fear it because one third – one third – of the people in this country are one paycheck away from being in the exact same situation.  Most of us are one devastating illness away from not being able to pay the mortgage anymore.  And even if you’re not in that boat, even if you are relatively secure financially, all it takes is a hurricane, or a recession, or a bad investment and you could be in the exact same place that the widow was in – down to her last pennies.

We know very little about this woman, but it’s not hard to guess what happened to her.  Her husband died, and with it died the means for her to make a decent living in that society at that time.  There wasn’t anyone to care for her.  She was probably forced to beg for those last pennies she had.  (takes the pennies out of the can). And yet Jesus watched her from across the room as she dropped them into the offering box.  (drops the pennies back in).

Those are the sounds of somebody giving everything. 

The first story that we read today was very similar.  This time, it’s Elijah, one of God’s prophets, who was walking down a road, hungry and thirsty.  And God told him that when he reached Zarephath – the city that he was traveling too – that there would be a widow there who would give him bread and water.  And when Elijah arrived, he found a poor starving woman who was down to her last cup of flour and her last drops of oil.

Elijah asks her – of all people – for some food and something to drink.  The widow responds to Elijah saying, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of meal in a jar, and a little oil in a jug; I am now gathering a couple of sticks, so that I may go home and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die.” 

That last bit comes as a shock – they were starving to death.  Her food was running out.  Her son didn’t have much longer and it would all be over.  So she was going to make a fire, bake a biscuit or two for herself and her son, and wait for the end. Now, most of us would say that to ask somebody in this situation, for anything, would be unthinkable.  It should have been Elijah who was giving her some money and food and water.  It should have been the prophet of God who stepped in to save their lives.

Instead, Elijah brings the message that all of God’s messengers bring when they visit people: “Do not be afraid.”  Do. Not. Be. Afraid.  If you ask me, there is nobody in the world who has more of a right to be afraid than a mother whose son is starving to death.  Fear comes with the territory. 

But Elijah gives her a promise from God.  He declares to the fearful widow, “This is the word of the God of Israel: ‘the jar of flour will not run out and the bottle of oil will not become empty before God sends rain on the land and ends this drought.’” How much courage might it take to trust a promise like this?  How many of you would bet the lives of your sons or daughters on the promise of an unfamiliar God?

I’m guessing nobody here, myself included, would take that bet. (takes the coins out of the can) And maybe it was out of desperation, maybe it was because of madness, or maybe this promise was her last hope, but the poor widow of Zarephath took Elijah into her home, and gave him the last of her food.  (drops the coins into the can). 

Those are the sounds of courage.

During my time in Seminary, my internship congregation was “Light of the World.”  And this was a really unique place for an internship site because the congregation was only 3 years old when I got there.  It was a brand new mission start congregation. 

Of course, the two years that I was at Light of the World, was during the height of the recession.  To say the least, it was a tough time to start a church.  A lot of the regular congregation members were having a tough time either finding employment or finding full time employment or finding jobs in their field.  And of course with congregation members struggling financially, Light of the World was struggling financially. It was doing all it could to get by. 

Pastor Deb, who had started the congregation, was really fond of having one-to-one conversations.  She would invite folks out to coffee and just listen to their stories.  And as she talked with more and more folks – all those people who were struggling with money – certain themes started to emerge.  She learned that people were afraid that they wouldn’t be able to provide for their families.  People would tell her about the tremendous sense of shame they felt in their poverty.

I remember one woman in particular whom Pastor Deb invited out to coffee.  She had been a realtor when the housing market collapsed and on top of that, her husband was suffering from Parkinson’s and was no longer able to work.  Over the course of a few years, she lost nearly everything she had. She went into bankruptcy. She was forced to sell many of her valuables in order to get by.  And even though she was flat broke, she kept making payments on her Mercedes.  She didn’t want other people to know that what she was going through. She wanted to hide. She was ashamed.

And so as Pastor Deb heard all these heartbreaking stories, an idea began to form.  What if people could talk about what they were going through with each other?  Maybe if they could hear one another’s stories, they could begin to break free from the fear that caused people to turn inwards, rather than outwards.  And so the congregation started some dinner groups called “Fearless Feasts.”  And at these dinners, folks were encouraged to share their stories about money and the shame/fear that went along with it.

It was amazing to see the transformation in people. On Sundays, people were buzzing.  We had numerous folks share their stories – in church – about their fears and struggles regarding money. And they shared how their faith in our God – who gave everything for us – was helping to turn their fear into courage.

And wouldn’t you know it?  Offerings began to rise.  People were giving more as we were learning to live our lives free of the fear that causes us to turn inwards. We learned that how we spend our money is perhaps one of the truest reflections of our values. (takes the coins out)  And we learned to be brave enough to say “I value my church – I value my community – I value my faith more than I value a new pair of jeans.”  (drops the coins into the can).

Those are the sounds of a people following their faith.

In case you didn’t catch it.  This is stewardship Sunday.  And all across the country there are pastors giving sermons about how the church is in need of more money and about how you can share more of your wealth and more of your time and more of your talents – but I’m pretty sure that nobody wants to hear that drivel – amen?  (The stewardship team might have been the only dissenters there, but I guess that is their job).  And honestly, I wouldn’t want to hear that sermon any more than you would. 

This sermon is about living our lives courageously.  It’s about having faith in God’s promise to care for you when you are in need; having faith in God’s abundance of resources; having faith in a God that has defeated death itself. It’s about a God who shakes you free from the shackles of sin and fear.  This sermon is about opening yourself up to God’s call – listening to what he’s saying – and following him, even if it leads you to the cross.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, God is calling all of us to live like this - to live free of fear.  To give – not just one percent, or two percent or ten percent – but everything we have and everything we are.  And when we learn to do that (takes the coins out) – we will be free indeed. (drops the coins into the can).

Amen.