Holy Trinity Sermon - 2013

Sermon – May 26th, 2013 Holy Trinity Sunday @ Bethany Lutheran Church

What You Believe Matters

Preacher: Pastor Paul Cannon

Good morning Bethany Lutheran Church! Today is Holy Trinity Sunday! Yes! I’m excited! Or in the minds of people going to churches all across the country, today might be more appropriately called – What-the-heck-is-the-pastor-talking-about? Sunday!

Because even as a seminary graduate, a pastor at this church, and somebody who spends a fair amount of time thinking about these things, I have to tell you that I’m really no closer to understanding the Trinity than anybody here. I even had to go to YouTube this week to figure out more about the Trinity – which makes me wonder why I racked up so much student debt…but I digress. And I’d love to play the clip for you, but it turns out that our video system is as hard to figure out as the Trinity itself. **Note to any readers - This video contains content that isn't suitable for young children.

So here’s the truth of the matter – nobody understands what it means to have a Trinitarian God. There are three persons of the Trinity, but there’s really only one God. All three persons of the trinity are distinct, yet you can’t really separate them. In seminary they had to make up words just to describe what the Trinity is supposedly like. Have you ever heard the word “Perichoresis” before? No? Be glad.

In order to think about the Trinity, you have to walk this proverbial tight rope where one wrong word here or there makes you a Lutheran heretic! To prove my point, I’m going to put you all on the spot here a little bit. I am going to give you three analogies for the trinity – and I’m going to make you pick the analogy that you think is not heretical. Okay?

#1: The Trinity is like the Sun (S-U-N) because you have the actually star (the sun), which gives off heat and light that come from the star.
 #2: The Trinity is like ice, water and vapor because it has three different forms even though it is all made up of the same substance.
#3: The Trinity is like a three leaf clover because there are three different aspects that make up one God.

 So let’s vote. If you think the Trinity is like the Sun (S-U-N) raise your hand. If you think the Trinity is like ice, water and vapor, raise your hand. If you think the Trinity is like a three leaf clover, raise your hand.

Are you ready for the answer? You are all heretics. Congratulations! And before you get offended, please remember that Martin Luther himself was a heretic so us Lutherans come from a long, proud line of religious rebels.

If you are anything like me though, you’re probably wondering if any of this matters. Just think of everything that’s gone on in the last week – we had the tornadoes in Oklahoma; there was the terrorist attack in London. There is a war going on in Syria. People are dying of preventable diseases like malaria in Africa. And what difference could a Trinitarian theology possibly make to you all in your daily lives? What difference could it make in the lives of these baptizees here today? Does it make any difference at all?

I’m here today to say “Yes,” I think it does matter. And I'll tell you why I think it's important, but first I want to share a story with you all.

I went down to Nashville two weeks ago to go to a nerdy pastor convention called the “Festival of Homiletics.” For those of you who don’t know, the festival is a preaching convention where pastors like myself go to listen to some of the best preachers and thinkers in the country. And one of the speakers was this little unassuming 80 year old southern woman named Phyllis Tickle.

 During this talk, shee told a story that really stuck with me about a lecture that she gave a number of years ago about whether or not Mary, the mother of Jesus, was really a virgin. After the lecture she somehow wound up in the kitchen of that church and she noticed a young boy staring at her. And so she went up to this youth and said, “Excuse me young man, can I help you?” And the boy kind of sheepishly looked at her and said, “I think that the story about the virgin Mary is so absolutely beautiful that it has to be true – whether it happened or not.”

Those words were ringing in my head this week. The story is so absolutely beautiful – that it has to be True. And that’s a capital “T” truth. It’s a truth that’s bigger than cold, hard facts and figures. It’s truth bigger than doctrine. It’s truth that goes down to the roots of who we are and who God is.

It’s the truth that Jesus says to his followers in our gospel today when he says, “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth.” Jesus doesn’t mean that the Holy Spirit is going to come and answer every question we have, but that through the Spirit we will know the capital “T” truth about our God.

And that’s exactly how I’ve come to think of the Trinity, because brothers and sisters in Christ, I cannot – for the life of me – explain to you exactly what the Trinity is or how it operates, or how it makes sense without somehow committing a heresy by mistake. But there is something so beautiful about our Trinitarian God – there is something so awe inspiring about a god that loves so deeply that oneness wasn’t enough – that I think somehow it has to be capital “T” true.

Can I get an Amen?

Well this all sounds really nice, but again I ask,  "How does it matter in the face of tornados and terrorism and war?" and "What does this mean for the families that are about to baptize their little babies?"

I always tell my confirmation kids this: what you believe matters. More specifically, what you believe about God matters.

So if the god you believe in is a judgmental, wrathful God, - why you might become a little judgmental and wrathful yourself. And if the god you believe in is a clock maker that wound up time at the beginning of everything and watches indifferently as events unfold, then you might become a little bit indifferent yourself.

What you believe matters.

And I believe that the Trinity matters because I think that if you knew the depth and beauty of God’s love, in the way that we see each person of the Trinity loving, that you couldn’t help but rush to the side of the tornado victims in Oklahoma.

 If you started to dig into the Bible and realized how passionate each person of the Trinity cares for the entirety of creation – you might be able to pray not just for the victim in London’s recent terror attack, but for the perpetrators as well.

I believe that it matters today for the families who are going to baptize their little ones – not in the sense that they need to memorize Trinitarian doctrines and raise their kids to conform to doctrine. It matters because if they only knew the truth – if they only knew the capital “T” truth – that knowing and being in a relationship with this Trinitarian God brings overflowing life, I believe these families couldn’t help but usher their children into a life of faith.

And to the congregation of Bethany Lutheran, I believe that it matters for you too, because if you could encounter the beautiful, self-giving, agape love of the Trinity, that you too would be willing to give more and more of your time and energy to make sure that Mason, Deangelo, Emily and Jake (our baptizees) were raised in the faith.

 Brothers and sisters in Christ, what you believe matters – not in the sense that you need to be in line with church teaching – but in the sense that your conception of God will form who you are and what you do in this life.

And fortunately, our Trinitarian God, is a God of love. Our Trinitarian God is a God of passion and conviction. Our Trinitarian God is a God that gives everything for us.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Pentecost Sermon 2013: Pastor Carrie Smith

Pentecost Sermon: May 19, 2013

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

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

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

This morning we heard the story of the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit fell upon a gathering of believers like fire, giving them the ability to speak other languages. We sometimes call this the “birthday of the church”, and not only because it’s a good reason to eat cake! We call this the birthday of the church because it marks the beginning of something new. It was this day when God gifted believers with a new mission and purpose: to share the Good News of Jesus Christ across the boundaries of language, culture, race, gender, orientation, class, economic status, political persuasion or physical ability. On Pentecost, God sent us out beyond every boundary humans have ever created—and through the gift of the Holy Spirit, God gave us the power to do it.

Some of you are wearing your Pentecost red this morning, but even so, you may not be feeling especially powerful, particularly if you have ever tried to cross one of these boundaries and experienced just how hard it can be. We humans are master architects and builders of separation walls. If you’ve ever worked on an interfaith committee or an anti-racism team; if you’ve tried to help a classroom understand your child’s disability; if you’ve ever lived in another country or learned another language, you know the walls that separate us are high and often difficult to climb.

I learned something about boundaries—and how the Holy Spirit transcends them—when I was twenty years old and had the chance to study in Germany for a year.

The first new language I learned to speak that year abroad wasn’t actually German, but rather the language of public transportation. Public transit is something that just didn’t exist in small-town Oklahoma. Your choice for gettin’ around where I came from was essentially a choice of “vehicle”: car or truck.

But in one 24 hour period on my journey to Germany, I experienced my first overseas plane ride, followed by my first train, first street car, and first taxi ride. Then, once my bags were unpacked at my hosts’ home, they asked if I’d like to accompany their daughter at her rowing lesson. Soon, there I was, in my first rowboat, rowing down the Rhine River.

Needless to say, the study abroad experience was overwhelming and disorienting. I looked for comfort and stability in church. I had just recently joined the Roman Catholic Church back home (that story is a sermon for another day!) so I started attending daily mass at the huge cathedral in Mainz, where I was living.

It didn’t take long to realize this church was very different from my small, liberal, university campus parish in Oklahoma. I didn’t understand the language. I didn’t know any of the hymns. There was lots of standing up and sitting down that we didn’t do at home. And at age 20, I was a good 60 years younger than anyone else attending those early morning masses. It was beyond discouraging, but I kept going, praying hard to feel the presence of God in my life that I so dearly missed.

Adding to my sense of being out of place was this one woman at the church who always seemed to be staring at me. She made me nervous, with her long black dress and her little head doily. Her nose-hairs alone were enough to put the fear of God in you! Every day when I arrived, she was already there praying, and let’s just say: her demeanor was less than welcoming.

One morning, as I arrived and quietly found a spot to kneel and pray, nose-hair lady began to shuffle towards me. I did a quick mental check: What had I done wrong? Was my skirt too short? Did I sit in her pew?

When she got to me, I cautiously looked up at her and then nearly fainted, because she was smiling at me! Without saying a word, she reached out and took my hand. She pressed into it something small and hard. Then she just held my hands in hers for a few moments and looked into my eyes before going back to her usual place to pray.

When I opened my hand I saw it was a tiny silver medal, with an image of a baby dressed in royal clothing. I truly had no idea what it was or what I should do with it! Later, I found out it was an image of the Infant Jesus of Prague. At that moment, however, it meant one thing to me: I wasn’t alone. God was with me even in this foreign land. And this woman had been praying for me!  Through the power of the Holy Spirit, God was speaking to me through this woman, across the boundaries of language, culture, and generation. This was a Pentecost moment for me.


There have been other Pentecost moments that stand out in my mind. Once, when I was having pregnancy complications, my Egyptian neighbor brought me the biggest pot of soup I had ever seen, and without saying a word she communicated that God was with me even on bed-rest. Another time, it was I who was given the gift of tongues, when I found myself sitting on an airplane next to a man who spoke no English and was traveling from Germany to, of all places, Oklahoma City. Between us, we managed to have a conversation in something you might call “Jerklish”. But when I was able to understand that he wanted water “mit Gas” or “with bubbles” and arranged for the flight attendant to bring a bottle of Perrier, you could see the tension and fear leave his shoulders and his face.

Now, you might be saying, “Pastor Carrie, I don’t see how this has anything to do with the Holy Spirit! You’re just talking about the power of a smile, the power of food, or the power of kindness and a glass of water. What does this have to do with God?”

To which I might respond: “Oh, how we limit God’s presence and power in our lives!”

In fact, our under-estimation of God’s power is what made the Day of Pentecost so scandalous! There they were, the faithful of the early church of Jesus Christ, all gathered together in one room, and when they experienced that first Holy Spirit smackdown and started speaking in tongues, no one could understand what was happening. The devout religious folk living in Jerusalem said, “Aren’t these all just poor fishermen from Galilee? Where did they learn to speak my mother tongue?” Most assumed they were drunk, even at nine in the morning, which just shows you the kind of reputation and standing Christians enjoyed at the time of the early church. But what other explanation could there be for simple, ordinary people, suddenly gifted with the ability to cross over boundaries of religion, language, race, and culture?

Indeed, what explanation can there be for those moments when a smile, a pot of soup, or an act of kindness communicates God’s love between people who otherwise share nothing in common?

On the Day of Pentecost, it was Peter who stood in the assembly and announced that this was in fact the power of God at work! This strange event was just the beginning of God’s presence and power in the lives of the faithful through the gift of the Holy Spirit.  This is the work of the Advocate, whom Jesus promised, who makes our sons and daughters prophesy; who makes our young men see visions, and our old men dream dreams; and who gives us a peace that passes all understanding.

So sisters and brothers in Christ, if the power of Holy Spirit can be found working through a bunch of poor fishermen from Galilee or a pot of soup from a neighbor, then who are we to limit the Spirit’s power to transcend other boundaries in our lives? How is the Holy Spirit at work through this community?

We say “Surely it can’t make any difference if we try to sing a hymn in Spanish in worship. I might sound ridiculous—I don’t even know what I’m singing.” And yet, for your neighbor, this could be a Pentecost moment, when the Spirit empowers you to sing the Good News in her mother tongue.
We say, “I love to knit. But how can that prayer shawl I knitted really help to spread the Good News?” And yet, this week, in my role as a member of the County Mental Health Board, I heard from a counselor how she picked up two of Bethany’s prayer shawls at the FaithBridge Interfaith Thanksgiving Service, and gave them to a woman and her daughter who were in great need. Today, the little girl still has hers on her bed at home, and the mother finds comfort knowing she is wrapped in the prayers of those she doesn’t even know.

We say, “I’m 80 years old, and you can’t teach an old dog new tricks! How can the Holy Spirit possibly work through me?” And yet today we pray a blessing over Mavis Bagby, age 80, who is traveling to Uganda next week to accompany the people there. I have no doubt Mavis will experience many Pentecost moments, as the Holy Spirit works through her and through the Ugandan people to transcend boundaries of language, race, class and privilege in service to God’s mission.

And today we are blessed to be witnesses to the baptisms of four new brothers and sisters in Christ: Jimmie, Natalie, Myles and James. Through water and the Word, God claims them today as God’s own, forever marked with the cross of Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit. But my favorite part of the baptism liturgy is after the water, when I have the honor of laying my hands on each of their heads and praying these words:

“Sustain Myles (and Natalie, and Jimmie, and James) with the gift of your Holy Spirit: the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the Spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever. Amen.”

 

This is my favorite part of the baptism liturgy because, like that Day of Pentecost in the second chapter of Acts, I know it is the beginning of something new. This is the baptismal birthday of Myles, Natalie, James, and Jimmie. This is the day we celebrate that each of them is gifted with God’s Holy Spirit, and from this day forward is sent out into the world in God’s service. Who can say how the Spirit might work through them? Who can say which boundaries they will erase, which walls they will tear down, or whose languages they will speak? Who can say how they will prophesy, dream dreams, or cast visions for the church and for the world? Who can limit how God may use each of them to share the extravagant love of Jesus Christ to those who need to hear it?

Sisters and brothers, through the cross of Christ and his resurrection, every barrier that stood between us and God is gone forever. And now, through the gift of the Holy Spirit, God has empowered believers to remove every barrier that stands between us and our neighbors.

Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, alleluia!

7th Sunday of Easter: May 12, 2013

7^th Sunday of Easter, May 12, 2013

Acts 16:16-34

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith

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

A pastor-friend recently told me the story of going to church for the first time when she was about sixteen years old. A classmate had invited her to join the bell choir, knowing she was a musician and could easily follow the music. So she went, feeling skeptical and nervous and out of place, but hoping to hear something that would change her generally negative opinion of Christians and church.

The lesson of the day was about Jesus and the feeding of the five thousand. The preacher stepped up to the pulpit, and my friend tuned in with anxious anticipation to her very first sermon. And then the preacher began with: “Let’s get one thing straight. Jesus didn’t really feed all those people.”

The sermon went on to describe all the possible ways this miracle didn’t really happen, and how the story should teach us to share, but let’s not take it too seriously.

Well, the way my friend, the future pastor, tells it, she tuned out immediately after those first sentences. That sermon merely confirmed what she already thought about Christians: that they were all hypocrites; that they didn’t really believe the stuff in the Bible anyway; and all preachers were there to do was tell you how to live your life and make you feel guilty. Done, done, and done.

She didn’t go back to a church for a long while after that.

I’m telling you this story today, because as we consider the story of Paul and Silas and their dramatic escape from prison, I think it’s important that we’re careful not to over-spiritualize or take away the power of their story of imprisonment and freedom.

You saw the basic story played out just minutes ago, but let’s recap: Paul and Silas were thrown into prison for preaching about Jesus and especially for freeing a slave-girl possessed by a spirit. While in prison, they inspired the other inmates by continuing to pray and to praise God even from behind bars. When a huge earthquake shook the foundations of the prison, opening the cell doors and freeing them from their chains, the jailer was poised to kill himself out of fear of what his employers would do when they saw the prisoners had escaped. But Paul called out “Stop!” and announced that he, Silas and all the other prisoners were still there! The jailer, confused and in awe at this turn of events, fell to his knees and asked how he, too, could be saved. Paul and Silas not only answered that question, but followed him home, teaching his entire household about the Good News. That very night, the jailer and his whole house—slave and free—were baptized! And then…they had a party. All good stories should end with a party!

Now this is a story that grabs us, demanding our attention, complete with spirit possession, exorcism, false imprisonment, prison conversions and a mass baptism! Sounds like God’s own summer blockbuster to me! But, imagine for a moment hearing a sermon on this Gospel story that went like this:

“Let’s get one thing straight, folks: Paul and Silas weren’t really freed from prison during an earthquake sent by God! And even if they were, no one believes that all the prisoners would stick around afterwards or that the jailer wouldn’t kill them. This is merely a story about freedom from sins and bad habits. It’s about how if we believe the right things about Jesus we will feel free! But let’s not take it too seriously.”  Amen?

NO! Not amen! If preaching is about proclaiming God’s Good News for our Bad Situations, then exactly who is this good news for? I don’t need to come to sit in a pew for an hour on Sunday to hear how to feel free. I feel free when I have a real day off. I feel free on the last day of school. I feel free when I lose a few pounds or pay off the department store credit card.

But if it’s a beautiful spring morning, and I’ve come to a brick building to sit on wooden pews next to people I don’t even know, I want to hear about real freedom!

I want to hear about three girls, kidnapped and held captive for ten years, who gained freedom this week in Cleveland. I want to hear how one of those girls, Amanda Berry, said to the 911 operator after being rescued by a neighbor: “I've been kidnapped. And I've been missing for 10 years. And I'm here! I'm free now!”

I want to hear about Reshma, the Bangladeshi woman found alive after 17 days in the rubble of that illegally-built garment factory, who called out, “Brother, save me!” and then, when they pulled her free, “I never thought I would see sunlight again.”

I don’t know about you, but these days I desperately need to hear more real stories of freedom and liberation, of prisons broken open and slaves going free! I need to hear about people finding freedom from the prisons of addiction, of abuse, of guilt, and of shame. I need to hear about the poor and the elderly, the unemployed and the uninsured, finding freedom from systems of oppression we silently endorse.

I am standing here today to proclaim to you real freedom for real people, through the love of God in Christ Jesus. I take that seriously, and I hope you do, too.

We don’t come to hear the Word of God to make us feel better or to be entertained. We don’t come to the table because that piece of bread and that sip of wine can take the place of the Mother’s Day brunch we’re going to later today.

No, we come here each Sunday as a community, with all our differences and all our disagreements, from as many backgrounds and viewpoints as there are pews in this room, because we are hungry for freedom, and we know it is here for us in the water and in the Word, in the bread and in the cup we share.

Paul and Silas found freedom when an earthquake shook the very foundations of the prison. In the same way, we come here to be reminded of the day when the cross of Christ shook the very foundations of the world.

That event, when Jesus, fully human and fully divine, went willingly to the cross for the sake of people imprisoned by sin, turned the whole world upside down. The love of God we see when we see Jesus on the cross frees us today from the burden of trying to be perfect. Today we are set free from our past mistakes! Today the cross of Christ is stronger than the bars of injustice! Today God’s love tears down the walls of hate we love to build!

The cross of Christ is the earth-shaking, prison-leveling event which this very day breaks open our hearts and frees us to love extravagantly, just as God loves us through Jesus Christ. The cross breaks open cell after cell after cell, setting free the people of God to live lives that bear witness to the love of Jesus Christ.

This is real freedom for real people!

And…this freedom is not for us to keep to ourselves.

It was Martin Luther who taught the church about the responsibilities that come with freedom in his work “On the Freedom of a Christian”. He wrote:

“A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none.


AND


A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”

In other words, through Christ we are perfectly free and must answer to no one.

But, because we are free in Christ, we are also, at the same time, perfectly bound to our neighbors. Our lives are not our own! We, who were made free through Christ, are now “slaves of the Most High God” as the servant-girl called Paul and Silas. And being slaves of the Most High God means we are forever linked to the lives of others.

Because we are free, we are bound to look past the white picket fences in our communities and to care what’s happening next door, whether we live in Cleveland or in Crystal Lake.

Because we are free, we are bound to consider how the $5.99 shirt we purchase is imprisoning workers in a foreign land.

Because we are free, we are bound, through the cross of Christ, to every prisoner, to every forgotten child, to every sex worker, and to every human being deprived of dignity and liberty.

As Christians made free through the cross of Christ, it is our baptismal call to work for the freedom of all people. It is our duty and our joy to break open screen doors and let free abducted girls from captivity. It is our duty and our joy to use our purchasing power to end slave labor. It is our duty and our joy to speak out against racism, sexism, homophobia, and every wall which separates us from each other.

Sisters and brothers, Jesus prayed that we would be one as he and the Father are one. As we leave this holy place today, I pray that we would indeed be one: of one mind and one heart, living into the freedom we have through Christ. I pray that when we leave this table, strengthened and nourished, forgiven and freed, we will go out boldly speaking God’s words of hope and liberation to all who need to hear them, shaking down walls of injustice, exclusion, and hate wherever they are found.

And now, since we Lutherans can be a quiet bunch, please turn to your neighbor and practice by proclaiming: “Sister (or brother), if the Son makes you free, you are free indeed!”

5th Sunday of Easter; April 28, 2013

5^th Sunday of Easter, April 28, 2013

Psalm 148; John 13:31-35; Revelation 21:1-6

PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith 

A few minutes ago you heard the Confirmation students’ updated, “Mad Libs” version of Psalm 148. Now, let’s read together Psalm 148 as it is printed in your Celebrate insert:

¹Hallelujah! Praise the LORD ^| from the heavens;

     praise God ^| in the heights.

²Praise the LORD, ^| all you angels;

     sing praise, all you ^| hosts of heaven.

³Praise the LORD, ^| sun and moon;

     sing praise, all you ^| shining stars.

⁴Praise the LORD, heav- ^| en of heavens,

     and you waters a- ^| bove the heavens.

⁵Let them praise the name ^| of the LORD,

     who commanded, and they ^| were created,

⁶who made them stand fast forev- ^| er and ever,

     giving them a law that shall not ^| pass away.   R

⁷Praise the LORD ^| from the earth,

     you sea monsters ^| and all deeps;

⁸fire and hail, ^| snow and fog,

     tempestuous wind, do- ^| ing God's will;

⁹mountains ^| and all hills,

     fruit trees ^| and all cedars;

¹⁰wild beasts ^| and all cattle,

     creeping things and ^| flying birds;

¹¹sovereigns of the earth ^| and all peoples,

     princes and all rulers ^| of the world;

¹²young ^| men and maidens,

     old and ^| young together.   R

¹³Let them praise the name ^| of the LORD,

     whose name only is exalted, whose splendor is over ^| earth and heaven.

¹⁴The LORD has raised up strength for the people

and praise for all ^| faithful servants,

     the children of Israel, a people who are near the LORD. ^| Hallelujah!   R

I had a few other sermon ideas in the works this week, but yesterday morning, as I walked my puppy Charlie around the neighborhood, all I could say to myself was “Praise the Lord!” Praise the Lord, the sun is out! Praise the Lord, I’m not wearing a wool sweater! Praise the Lord, it’s spring! Praise the Lord, God is finally doing a new thing! Amen!

As I walked, my mind kept going back to the psalm for today, Psalm 148, which invites everything—from humans to sea monsters, from the sun and moon to fire and hail—to praise God. It’s an invitation, not a command: and yet it’s clear that in the psalmist’s opinion, whoever we are, whatever we are doing, we should be about the business of praising God.

Music is probably the first thing we think of when we want to praise God, and whether we consider ourselves musically talented or not, many of us learned to praise God with singing from the time we were little. Let’s test it out a bit. I’ll sing the first phrase, and you finish it:

Praise him, praise him, all ye little children….(God is love, God is love!)

Praise him, Praise him….(praise him in the morning, praise him in the noontime.)

Hallelu, hallelu, hallelu, hallelujah…(praise ye the Lord!)

(I will remind you that the Bethany choir meets on Wednesday nights at 7:30 pm…)

Music is most certainly a wonderful way to praise God, and we can look to the great Lutheran musician Johann Sebastian Bach as an example of putting one’s gifts to work for that purpose. In fact, Bach’s life motto was “Soli Deo Gloria” , which means “to the glory of God alone.” Bach proclaimed that all the music we wrote was written to honor God, not himself.  This is saying a lot, considering he wrote new music nearly every week for his job as church organist! That’s a lot of praise!

On the other hand, Bach also allegedly said, “Bring me a bowl of coffee before I turn into a goat.”

So, apparently, even J.S. Bach didn’t feel much like praising God until he had had his morning cup of coffee, which makes me feel considerably better about myself.

And this gets me to the next point, which may very well be what you are thinking right now:
“Praising God is all well and good, Pastor, but what if I don’t feel like singing praises? Never mind my lack of coffee or the lack of sunshine the last few weeks. What about the bombings in Boston, the explosion in Texas, the building collapse in Bangladesh, and the earthquake in China? What about the loss of our beloved Carol, whose funeral is tomorrow? How can we praise God in the midst of all this?”

If you’re thinking something along these lines this morning, you should at least know you’re not alone. We all struggle some days to praise God, especially when the world seems particularly un-praiseworthy. In fact, I wonder why this psalm was written. It could be that it was an especially beautiful spring day, like the one we had yesterday. It could be that the psalmist was walking in nature, as I was, and was inspired to write these beautiful words.
Or…it could be the psalmist was having an April like we just endured. Maybe these words weren’t written for the days when we have sunshine on our shoulders, but rather for the days when the sun seems a distant memory. Perhaps these words were written for when the rain and the cold, the violence and the loss in the world have taken away our “alleluias”. Maybe these words are both an invitation and a reminder to the creeping things and the flying things, to the trees and sea monsters and everything else, that life itself is a gift. That being part of this incredible creation is a miracle. That whoever you are, and whatever life brings you, you are to be about praising the One who created you. As it is written:

⁵Let them praise the name ^| of the LORD,

     who commanded, and they ^| were created,

⁶who made them stand fast forev- ^| er and ever,

     giving them a law that shall not ^| pass away.

Of course, this is easier for the sea monsters, cattle, fruit trees, and creeping things mentioned in this psalm. They don’t have much choice in praising God! The fire praises by burning. The creeping things praise by creeping. The sea monsters praise by swimming. And the hail…well, I don’t want to think about how hail praises God! But the point is, whether these creatures and elements of creation feel like it or not, they praise God. 

So what does that mean for us, God’s creatures who struggle with the blessing and curse of freedom, and of reason, and of feeling the weight of the world’s sorrows? How are we to praise God?

“Worship” is another way of saying “Praise God”, so I looked to pastor and author Frederick Buechner’s definition of “worship”. He writes:  

“To worship God means to serve him. Basically there are two ways to do it. One way is to do things for him that he needs to have done - run errands for him, fight on his side, feed his lambs, and so on. The other way is to do things for him that you need to do – sing songs for him, create beautiful things for him, give things up for him, tell him what’s on your mind and in your heart, in general rejoice in him and make a fool of yourself for him the way lovers have always made fools of themselves for the one they love.”  (“Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC”, pp.97-98)

Love is the focus of the Gospel text for today, in which we heard again the words Jesus left with the disciples at the last supper: “As I have loved you, so you should love one another. By this they will know you are my disciples: if you have love for one another.” This is Jesus commanding us to be about the business of that first kind of praise—doing something for God that God needs to have done. “Little children, I am with you only a little while longer,” said Jesus. In his absence, God needs us to love the world the way he did.

Therefore, we praise God when we love each other the way Jesus first loved us. We praise God when we welcome sinners and tax collectors and Democrats and Republicans and tree-huggers and former Pentecostals and doubters and all the rest to eat the same bread and drink the same wine. We praise God when we challenge the powers-that-be for the sake of the poor and the oppressed and those with no voice. We praise God when we heal the sick and comfort the dying and wrap our arms around the grieving and the lonely. We praise God by loving each other, even when we happen to not like each other very much.

This kind of love is no easy task. Jesus makes it sound so easy, sitting there at the table with his friends! But when we read it today, we know just how hard it was. We know about the cross. We know about the suffering. We know about the tomb.

But we also know about the empty tomb, and Easter morning, and how Thomas touched the wounded hands and side, and how the disciples came to know Jesus on the walk to Emmaus. We know how hard it is to love someone to the end, because Jesus already did it!  But we also have seen that because he loved us to the end, death is no more. Mourning and crying and pain are no more, for the first things have passed away.

Jesus’ love for us is how it is that we, his disciples, can love one another even when it’s hard.  His love is why we can praise God even when the spring seems far off.

And his love is also why praising God is something we need to do. Like the trees and the birds and the sea monsters, we can’t help but sing songs, make art, dance, plant gardens, solve math problems, balance the books, and teach children. We can’t help but sing at the top of our lungs, like the guy I saw in the middle of the thrift store yesterday, belting out the choruses to every song on the radio, bless his heart! We can’t help but make fools of ourselves, out of love for the One who created springtime, who placed women like Carol in our lives, and who sent Jesus to be love-in-the-flesh.

Therefore, let all things that have breath, praise the Lord! Alleluia, Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!