Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you; and before you were, I set you apart (Jeremiah 1:5)

Friday, October 28, 2022

This Summer

“This Summer” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on July 11, 2021. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 34:40.

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Scripture Texts:
Acts 3:1-16

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“We do not see things are they are. We see things as we are.” This Talmudic quote from Rabbi Schmuel Ben Nachnami notes that seeing is not always vision. What we see in life is more than what the eye beholds. A person or circumstances right in front of us can be merely the surface of someone or something more profound.

Let me explain.

If you ever want to shock someone, when they ask you what you do for a living, tell them you are a gay pastor. This will be shocking to that person because most of you are not gay nor a pastor.

So you might just have to take my word for it. But when I tell a stranger that I am a gay pastor, 4 out of 5 times the person responds in shock. There’s usually follow-up questions! Non-churched adults, especially those who grew up in the church but no longer have any church connection, are often surprised that one can be both gay and a pastor. Radical, right?! It’s a great conversation starter.

I think the shock also comes from when they ask what I do for a living, they don’t assume to see a gay pastor before them, whatever a gay pastor looks like. Unless I am wearing a rainbow stole or my preacher’s robe, both of which I have, I don’t think most people would put two-and-two together and assess I must be a gay pastor by my appearance. And not like it matters anyway.

Actually, in fact, a former clergy colleague of mine once criticized my appearance as a pastor saying he, “could never do the Lord’s Work in clothes as comfortable as mine.” (I was wearing button up and chinos). Fortunately he said it in front of two of my former church members, who knew my character and ability, and said, “If Pastor Taylor ever visited us in the hospital wearing a full suit and tie, we’d be thinking we were on our death bed needing to say good bye to our loved ones right then and there.”

As if pastors have one way to dress… as if any of us do.

How do people perceive you when they see you? Can they tell if you’re a teacher or a doctor or an engineer? How about if you’re a parent or a grandparent? What do they look like? What’s their uniform?

By what you’re wearing right now, or how or where you’re sitting, or the items you brought with you, could any of us tell what your hobbies are or where you’re from or your plans for the rest of the day? By looking at you, could I criticize your deepest faults or share your greatest gifts? Would I be able to know your full story?

The answer is no. “We do not see things are they are. We see things as we are.”

Anything I say about you based off appearance alone is only a projection of myself onto you.

Each of you are something more than the human eye can see. And each of us are more complex than any of us in a solo understanding can comprehend.

This summer we are focusing on the book of Acts as part of our summer theme: “One Worship, One Church: A Summer of Being Together.” If you joined us for worship two weeks ago or had a chance to view that service at a different time, you would have heard a conversational sermon preached by the three pastors. That sermon, which launched our summer theme, was inspired by passages found in the opening chapters of Acts: chapters 1 and 2.

Immediately following the ascension of Jesus, the early followers of the Way were told to wait until the Holy Spirit would descend upon them with power. This must have been incredibly difficult as after witnessing the resurrection of Christ, I’m sure all the disciples wanted to do was to go out into the world to preach the Gospel and serve their neighbors. But they were told to wait. And so they did.

Then, during Pentecost, the Spirit of Power did descend upon them and the early church was created. To build and expand the church, the disciples did simple but holy things. If you remember, the early church in the 2nd chapter, the period right after the moment of Pentecost, the early church “followed a daily discipline of worship in the Temple followed by meals at home, every meal a celebration, exuberant and joyful, as they praised God. People in general liked what they saw. Every day their number grew as God added those who were saved” (Acts 2:46-47).

That’s what we’re doing this summer. We’re focusing on building community, and we’re doing it through simple but holy things: one worship service, a variety of music, intentional fellowship every week, and food and fun to share with one another.

If you read my Eblast letter from Thursday, you know how I feel about this summer. Grateful is exactly the word. In general, I like what I see, because we’re together after over a year of not being together.

But even this summer, there is something more happening than the human eye can see. To believe this, we must have faith.

Think of the early church. There was something more there too.

Our passage for today immediately follows the verse I quoted earlier that was a part of the conversational sermon preached two weeks ago. The early church is still worshipping daily, enjoying the simplicity of just being together as one body.

Peter and John, two of Jesus’ original disciples during his earthly life, are now living out the resurrected and now ascended Christ’s command of going out and making disciples of all nations.  Outside of the temple, as part of their daily visit, they see a man who had been lame from birth. The man calls to Peter and John and asks for alms of silver and gold. But Peter takes the hand of the man, raises him up, and commands the man to “stand up and walk” in the name of Christ. And so the man does. He stands up. He walks. And then he starts jumping and leaping and praising God.

The story is similar to a healing performed by Jesus. Remember the story of the paralytic man being lowered by friends through a hole on a roof so that he would be placed at the feet of Jesus to be healed? There too, a man once lame, was healed and was able to walk and jump and praise God. This is found in Mark 2.

Both stories feature the healing power of Christ. This is important. Peter makes it very clear to the crowd that he did not heal the man; it was Jesus and faith in his name that made this man walk again.

But there is a difference in these stories as well. When Jesus heals the paralytic man, he does so by forgiving the sins of that man. He acknowledges the man as a sinner and then he forgives him. As our perfect judge and redeemer, Jesus has the authority and the power to do so. To name the sins of the marginalized in addition to the sins of those in power with the promise of his forgiveness.

But in our story from today, there is something more than meets the eye.

Peter never names the sins of the lame man as he heals him in the name of Christ. Instead, Peter turns to the crowd, to the Israelites who are just like him, and names their collective sin; their sin of sentencing Jesus to death and he calls them all to repent.

First, don’t let any of us twist this into an anti-sematic passage. Peter, a Jewish man and follower of the God of his Jewish ancestors, is preaching to a Jewish crowd, followers of the same God through their Jewish ancestors. This crowd that Peter is preaching too is also most likely not the same crowd that gathered before Pilate the day Jesus was sentenced to death. But yet this is a collective truth and a collective responsibility. Peter calls the crowd – those worshipping in the temple every day as well as himself – to repent. And then Peter gives them the opportunity to do so.

Peter holds himself and his worshipping community accountable. This idea isn’t new to us.  With more media attention to injustices across our world and country, we know we too are called to hold each other accountable. White people holding white people accountable. Men holding men accountable. Straight, cisgender people holding straight, cisgender people accountable. This is our responsibility.

But what if this summer and moving forward, we as a community of faith hold each other accountable? Not out of piety or superiority over another, but instead rooted in our faith in Christ and our call to be a community with one another.

Do we believe the Spirit could intervene if we are forthcoming with the ways in which we fall short?  Do we believe the Spirit would heal if we were honest about our ailments and our areas of concern? Do we believe something more is at work? Something more than we can see with our own eyes…

What does accountability look like during a summer of “One Worship, One Church: A Summer of Being Together”? What if the accountability is as simple as the simplicity of the responsibility we have this summer? How do we stay accountable to worshiping together and breaking bread together, and generally enjoying it as we do?

I think it can be as easy as one, two, three.

One, each of us need to first and foremost hold ourselves accountable. Let each of us commit to this time of experimentation and discernment in our community of faith. Try to be here every Sunday and be intentional about your time here. Sing the music, pray the prayers, and enjoy the time in fellowship. Participate and be engaged. We’ll get more of out of all of this when we do.

Two, find joy and gratitude in at least one aspect of worship every Sunday. Write it down if you would like. Make that your number one takeaway and focus on that joy. Maybe you liked a song a line from the sermon. Maybe you saw a friend you haven’t seen in awhile or maybe you met someone new. Maybe the most joyful thing was worshipping in your pajamas that day or maybe it was the first time this week you got to experience a sabbath. Find that at least one piece of joy or gratitude and then share it with someone. That’s a healthy way to hold others accountable; by sharing your joy and asking them to share theirs. Positivity is contagious.

And three, speaking of holding others accountable, find your people – your inner circle; the people most like you – and hold each other accountable. Even directly if needed. For example, let’s say you belong to a circle of friends that believes Sunday worship is best when Stephen wears a bowtie. On the days he wears his bowtie, I’m sure you and your circle go find each other and say just “how lovely that polka dot” pattern was! And on the days that Stephen doesn’t wear a bowtie, maybe some in the circle complain that worship wasn’t at meaningful because we didn’t get to appreciate the dashing design around his neck. If this happens… and it is bound to happen, whether it’s about bowties or music, children or chairs, when someone in your circle who has similar beliefs, opinions, and preferences as you; if and when someone in your circle might complain, kindly and compassionately redirect them back to the joy and gratitude. The positive takeaway you promised to focus on that week.

There is something at work here that is more than any of us understand. Let us live in response to God who we know is at work in all of this, whatever it might look like and what ever may come from it. Maybe – just maybe – if we spend a summer of empowering another, our faith in Christ and our call to be a community will make us whole again. I believe that it can.

I think this summer is a summer is letting the Spirit do her work. It’s a summer of believing Christ can do anything… and that Christ will do something. It’s a summer of repentance and a summer of healing. It’s a summer of intentional faith and fellowship. It’s a summer of being together.

There is more to this summer than the human eye can see. Thanks be to God for that. Amen.

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