How Does a Weary World Rejoice? We Root Ourselves in Ritual

“How Does a Weary World Rejoice? We Root Ourselves in Ritual” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on December 31, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 37:10.

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Scripture texts:
Luke 1:21-38

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Merry Christmas! And Happy New Year! It has been just 7 days from when we gathered by candlelight to celebrate the birth of Christ, God’s Son, our Savior. Throughout December, we’ve been making room to welcome Christ into our hearts but honoring all that are hearts are already carrying. Weariness or joy, amazement or hope – there is a space for all of it this Christmas. How does a weary world rejoice? We sing and we pray; we witness and watch in awe; we rejoice together, we cry together; we hope with intensity.  

But we don’t just do this only for Advent and Christmas, right? Or at least, we shouldn’t. 

Every Sunday we come to this place with our hearts full of joys and hurts to rejoice in a weary world. Every Sunday we come to make meaning of our lives and find strength for the journey. Every Sunday we come to worship with our siblings in Christ knowing we are not alone. Every Sunday we raise our voices in glory by singing familiar and beloved songs. Every Sunday we recite liturgy and prayers to give words to our hopes and fears. Every Sunday we come to hear God speak to us through Scripture and Word. Every Sunday we are making room for Christ to be known in our lives so that we can make Christ known in the lives of others. Every Sunday we are rooting ourselves in rituals because rituals can provide order and meaning in a weary world that often feels beyond our control. 

In our scripture reading today, we find a young family at the heart of a weary world narrative. Here, Mary and Joseph are new parents to the Christ child, journeying into the unknown of parenthood.

Eight days after the birth of Jesus, Mary and Joseph circumcise their child and give him the name Jesus, as was commanded to them. They return to the temple in Jerusalem to enact the sacred birth rituals of their culture and tradition. In the midst of their observance, the unexpected occurs. A man named Simeon, guided by the Spirit, enters the temple to proclaim Jesus as the “light of revelation.” Following him, a prophet named Anna approaches, praising God and speaking about Jesus to everyone longing for redemption.

In this story, we see the power of ritual in marking a sacred turning point. Even though Mary and Joseph might have been weary of what lay ahead, these sacred rituals and those who bore witness to them offered encouragement and strength for their journey.

But what do these ancient rituals mean for a 21st-century congregation? Well, rituals are not confined to the pages of scripture or the walls of ancient temples. They live with us in our daily routines, in our shared celebrations, and in the ways we grieve. Rituals provide structure to celebrations, losses, and transitions. Rituals bring meaning to our lives, especially when our futures seem deeply uncertain. They can help us make sense of confusing, ambiguous, daunting, or difficult chapters in our lives. While we might not always associate rituals with joy, perhaps we can find joy in the meaningful ways we choose to mark and celebrate our lives.

In 2014, The Reverend Cecelia D. Armstrong delivered the eulogy at her father’s funeral. She spoke of her father as a great giant. Rev. Armstrong described him as one of those guys who just helped wherever he was needed. However, he did not just come and do things for you. He would show you how to do it yourself because he did not want to return and do the same task again. He was the epitome of the saying, “Give a person a fish and they will eat for a day. Teach a person to fish and they will never go hungry.” Rev. Armstrong said her dad believed in planting seeds that would grow in the very people who would be here long after he passed away.

Rituals are one of the ways we plant seeds in our lives and in the lives of the generations to come. 

Think about it.  Even the experience of burying a seed in dirt, a seemingly weary task, can produce something beautiful in time. Even in the most challenging times, rituals can comfort us, guiding us through the dirt so to speak, and help us bloom. Our rituals have the power to bring joy even in times of great weariness. They provide comfort, solace, and a sense of belonging. 

Right before Christmas, I asked on my Facebook page for church goers, both FPCA members and beyond, to share stories of attending church (or rooting themselves in ritual) following a significant life event. Consider the rituals in these stories. 

A friend of mine from North Dakota shared a story about the strength and resilience of her congregation when we returned to their church after a devastating fire. The ‘new’ building stood as a powerful testament to their faith and their resolve, a symbol of their commitment to their rituals, and a beacon of hope in a weary time.

A member of this church shared a story of worshipping on All Saints Day after his father’s death. While remember ‘I Sing a Song of the Saints of God’ with tears streaming down his face he was given powerful reminder of father’s place in the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us.” Despite his grief, he found solace in the rituals of our faith, in the hymns that reminded him of his father's place among the saints.

Or consider the experience of a woman who returned to church after her father's death. Growing up, she always sat between her parents at the church… and on that day following her father’s death, she said she could feel my dad sitting to her left, teasingly nudging me, which was our special way to say ’I’m glad you’re here with me’ To this day, she shared she still feels his presence to her left, and her Mom to her right. She felt the presence of her parents beside her, their rituals of sitting together in church bringing a sense of comfort and closeness. The rituals she shared with her parents continued to provide solace, even in their absence.

A couple from my previous congregation shared a story of returning to church after finding out they were expecting a child after years of battling infertility. The rituals of their faith gave them hope and patience during their struggles, and their return to church after receiving the good news was a joyful celebration of God's faithfulness.

Friends of mine who I used to serve with in a church in New Jersey shared a story that following their wedding, they returned to their church. Despite the challenges they faced as a LGBTQ+ couple in other churches, they found acceptance and love in a worshipping community. The rituals of their church not only recognized their union but celebrated it with joy and love.

Another member shared, on 9/11 all she wanted was to be with her girls and be at church. The service brought hope and comfort as we all grieved together knowing that God grieved with us. She also shared another story about the joy of bringing each of her girls to church for the first time after they arrived. The wait for each was long and filled with pain and disappointment which made the joy of their arrival that much stronger. It was a holy experience to share her joy with the people and the God who had seen me through it all. Here, the ritual of community, brought comfort in following 9/11 and joy following the arrival of her daughters. 

Finally, another member and friend shared her first time back in after her first child, a son, was born still. She remembers it coincided with Lent, and it felt comforting to find herself in a pew. She described that she never experienced a greater understanding or connection to the experience of sacrifice and loss together with the hope resurrection. She identified with Mary, Jesus’ mother, knowing she too lost her Son. It made it okay for her to just show up and weep.

These stories remind us of the power of rituals. Whether we are celebrating a new union, grieving a loss, or sharing the joy of a long-awaited blessing, our rituals ground us in our faith, connect us with our community, and give us a reason to rejoice.

The rituals we partake in, whether they are joyous or challenging, allow us to rejoice in the knowledge that we are a part of something greater, and that there is always hope for a weary world. In every seed we plant, in every ritual we partake in, there is an opportunity for the weary world to rejoice. 

Tonight, we will bid farewell to this year and step into the unknown of a new year. As we reflect on the power of rooting ourselves in ritual, we must consider the significance of this moment. It is not a mere coincidence that we gather here on the first Sunday after Christmas, on the eve of a new year.

The rituals we embrace in our faith, the songs we sing, the prayers we offer, the community we find solace in, all serve as anchors in our lives. They ground us, providing stability and meaning amidst the uncertainties of the world. And as we stand on the threshold of a new year, these rituals become even more vital.

In this weary world, where chaos and change often reign, our rituals offer us a sense of continuity and purpose. They remind us of the values we hold dear, the love we have for one another, and the faith that sustains us. They guide us in setting our priorities for the year ahead.

As we embark on this new year, we must prioritize the rituals that ground us in our faith. Let us commit to regular participation in worship, to engaging in prayer and meditation, to nurturing the connections we have with our church community. These rituals will be the foundation upon which we build our lives in the coming year.

In the weariness of the world, we can rejoice by rooting ourselves in the rituals that unite us, that connect us to God and to one another. We embrace this truth as we step into the new year, knowing that with each ritual, we bring light into the darkness and hope into the weariness. 

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen."

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How Does a Weary World Rejoice? We Find Joy in Connection

“How Does a Weary World Rejoice? We Find Joy in Connection” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on December 10, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 39:30.

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Scripture texts:
Isaiah 40:1-11
Luke 1:24-45

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Today, we gather in the spirit of the Advent season, on this the second Sunday. Our overarching theme this Advent is a question that resonates deeply within all of us: “How does a weary world rejoice?” It is our hope to answer that question as a community this Advent and Christmas and to provide encouragement and even instructions on how we, as part of this weary world, can rejoice.

So how do we answer that question today? How does a weary world rejoice? 

We find joy in connection.

There is immense power found in connection with others and the joy it can bring, particularly in times when the world around us feels heavy with weariness.

Luke 1:24-45 introduces us to Elizabeth and Mary, two women marked by divine intervention and interconnected by familial ties. Both are faced with pregnancies that defy human understanding: Elizabeth conceives in her old age, and Mary, a virgin, is chosen to bear the Christ child. Despite the societal and generational differences that exist between them, a shared experience unites them. This shared experience becomes a source of connectional joy and comfort, a beacon of light in their remarkable circumstances.

In this passage, we find Elizabeth secluded, pregnant in her old age after years of barrenness. We don’t know why she chose to hide herself away, but we can imagine the questions swirling in her mind. ‘Does the Lord know how old I am?’ ‘Why now, after all these years, am I blessed with a child?’ ‘Has all the years of being childless filled me with shame and weariness?’

On the other side, we have Mary, a young woman newly pregnant and not yet married. She, too, might have been asking herself, ‘Does the Lord know how young I am?’ ‘How can I rejoice in this unexpected pregnancy when I’m not married?’ ‘What am I to do?!’

While we don’t know how Elizabeth found out she was pregnant (after all, scripture tells us the angel visited Zechariah with the news and then made him mute), we do hear about the angel sharing the good news with Mary.

But Mary's initial reaction to the unexpected visit of the angel Gabriel was one of fear and confusion. She was troubled by the sudden announcement that she was highly favored and that the Lord was with her. In fact, Luke tells us that Mary's state of mind was even more troubled than Zechariah's. Luke employs the Greek verb e-ta-rax-they to describe Zechariah’s troubled state of mind. But Luke uses die-ta-rax-they, a stronger form of ta-rax-they, to describe Mary’s state of mind when she heard Gabriel’s initial announcement. E-ta-rax-they simply means “troubled,” but die-ta-rax-they means “greatly troubled.”

This was a significant moment for Mary, and she had every reason to be greatly troubled by this unexpected visitor and the grand but vague announcement. She was in a vulnerable position, being young, female, and poor in a society that valued age and power. The stakes were high for Mary, as one wrong move could have severe consequences for her personal and family reputation.

However, Mary's story stands out for the transformation she undergoes from her initial fear and trouble to a place of acceptance and affirmation of the angel's announcement. The angel, Gabriel, sought to reassure Mary and convince her to embrace her role in the mission. He made grand pronouncements about her favored status, the greatness of her son, and his eternal kingdom. These pronouncements should have brought great joy to Mary. But interestingly, they did not fully reassure her or alleviate her anxiety.

Mary still had questions and asked, "How will this be?" The angel's response, assuring her of the power of the Most High and the divine nature of her offspring, was strong. However, it still did not completely ease her doubts.

It is in the same announcement that Mary’s child will be the Son of God, the angel tells her that Elizabeth is also pregnant. It was the news of Elizabeth's miraculous conception that finally convinced Mary to accept the angel's announcement. The fact that her relative, someone she knew well, was also experiencing a similar situation gave her the reassurance and support she needed. Mary understood the importance of someone who would walk with her, share in her experience, and stand by her side during this uncertain journey.

And even more so, when Mary arrives at Elizabeth’s door, something miraculous happens. When Mary encounters Elizabeth, her relative and companion in unexpected motherhood, Elizabeth’s child leaps in her womb, and she is filled with the Holy Spirit. Then, Mary’s fear gives way to joy.

Mary and Elizabeth experience joy together. Their joy is shared! It is mutual! It is contagious! In that moment, joy bursts forth, not in isolation, but through connection.

The two share a joy that only grows and expands from their connection.

This shared joy between Mary and Elizabeth echoes the words of Brené Brown, who defines joy as “an intense feeling of deep spiritual connection, pleasure, and appreciation.” She tells us that joy is “characterized by a connection with others, or with God, nature, or the universe.”

Similarly, in the Greek language of the New Testament, the word for “happy” or “blessed” is ma-ka-rios, which suggests a state of good fortune or carefree living. Yet, this is not the joy we speak of today. The joy we seek is not dependent on wealth or ease, but rather, it is a joy born of connection. It is the Greek word for joy, chairó, that we hold in our hearts as we journey through Advent. This is a joy that can be found in hardship, in uncertainty, in weariness, because it is a joy that grows in relationship.

This is the joy we are invited to seek in this Advent season: joy rooted in connection; joy that grows in relationship; joy that can flourish even in a weary world.

The prophecy of Isaiah 40 echoes the sentiments from Luke as we encounter another expression of connectional joy. The prophet Isaiah speaks words of comfort to a weary people in exile, promising them that their suffering will end, that they will return home. These words are a balm, a soothing salve for a people wearied by oppression and loss. They offer comfort, yes, but more than that, they offer hope. And hope is a potent catalyst for joy.

Just as Isaiah’s words comforted the exiles, so too do we find comfort in our connections with one another. We find joy in the shared experiences, in the mutual support, in the simple and profound act of being there for each other. This is how a weary world rejoices.

We witness weariness every day, both in our present lives and in the lives of people across the world. We think of those who are lonely or isolated, those who grieve, those who are burdened by fear and uncertainty. We recognize that joy may feel elusive for many of us.

Yet, the stories of Elizabeth and Mary, of the comforted exiles in Isaiah, remind us that joy is not a solitary endeavor. It is not something we must muster on our own. Joy is not an isolated experience. Instead, joy is something we share, something we create together, something we find in connection. When we cannot find joy within ourselves, we can draw from the joy of others. In the sharing of our joy, we multiply it. Joy expands in a community.

For any of us, whenever facing difficult or unforeseen circumstances; when facing weariness - what matters most is having someone who will share in our experience, stand with us, and walk alongside us.

This is the essence of the incarnation, that God not only assures us of God’s care but also shares in our human experience and journeys with us in our everyday lives. Jesus Christ, the incarnate God, the Word made flesh, Emmanuel – “God with us” – promises to always share in our experience, to stand with us, and walk alongside us.

This Advent season: embrace and embody the incarnation. Embrace the incarnation, that God is with us, walking with us in our joys and struggles. And because of our faith in a God who does that for us; we must do the same for others. Embody the incarnation and promise to walk with others in shared joys and struggles, both yours and theirs. As followers of the incarnate Christ, lift up the relationships you create and foster as holy endeavors with the most beloved of people— every relationship; every person.

We are never alone in our struggles. We are part of a divine design, intricately connected with each other, with God, with the universe. Even in our weariness, we can find joy in these connections because the joy is always there. Yes, it is true. Joy is always there, waiting to be discovered in the connections we share with one another, with God, and with the world around us.

As we journey through this Advent season, may we be open to the joy that comes from connection. May we find comfort in the shared experiences of our community. May we hold joy for each other, just as Mary and Elizabeth did. And may this shared, connectional joy light our path, guiding us through the weariness of our world and into the hope and peace of the coming Christ.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

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Reformation: A Journey of Love

 “Reformation: A Journey of Love” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on October 29, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 47:38.

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Scripture texts:
Deuteronomy 34:1-12
Matthew 22:34-46

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"We are imperfect people striving to live God's love in the way of Jesus Christ." 

This is our new mission statement. It’s a declaration of our unyielding commitment to not only follow the teachings of Christ, but to live them out in our everyday experiences and interactions. This statement, like mission statements for any body or organization, serves as a reminder and a guide, a compass to direct our actions and attitudes. 

Today, on the occasion of Reformation Sunday, we dive deeper into our new mission.

But first, Reformation Sunday is a poignant reminder of the fluidity and vitality inherent in our faith. It is a faith that has been molded, modified, and matured over centuries by the transformative power of God's love and our pursuit of living out this love in its purest form. On this day, we commemorate the "Reformed Church, Ever Reforming," celebrating our faith's capacity to evolve and adapt, acknowledging that our faith is not a fixed entity but a journey that grows and matures in response to the ever-changing context of our world.

Our scripture readings for today, Deuteronomy 34 and Matthew 22, speak to that. They provide us with a navigational map for our journey through this changing world. 

Deuteronomy narrates the transition of leadership from Moses to Joshua, marking a significant shift in the Israelites' journey from the wilderness to the Promised Land. This transition resonates with our own journey as a Church within a world that is in a state of constant flux. Like Joshua, we find ourselves leading a congregation that is different from those of the past, navigating a new landscape with its own unique challenges and opportunities yet unseen. We’ve had our own shift in leaders. You know this. Pastors, Elders, Deacons, and members have come to this ministry and Pastors, Elders, Deacons, and members have moved on from this ministry. Our church body is not the same as it once was. It’s similar, our essence is similar, but we are not the same. We have grown and matured just like the faith that we have. God is doing a new thing, and we as a congregation is living in response to that new thing by doing a new thing ourselves. 

Our other passage, Matthew 22:34-46, serves as the bedrock of our faith. In this passage, we witness Jesus concentrating the essence of the law into two fundamental commandments: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind," and "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." These commandments are exactly that. They are commands. They must serve as our instructions from God in all times and seasons.

This passage from Matthew echoes the spirit of our new mission statement. As "imperfect people striving to live God's love in the way of Jesus Christ," we are encouraged to respond to change with love - a profound love for God and an equally profound love for our neighbors. As we navigate the issues of our time, no matter how complex or contentious, our response must always be anchored in these commandments of love. In light of racial injustice? We must respond with love for our neighbor. Climate change? We must love God’s creation! Economic disparities? We must lift each other up in love! 

Just as Jesus revolutionized the religious landscape of his day by emphasizing love, compassion, and inclusivity, we too are called to revolutionize our world in a similar manner. This is evident in the protestant Church's response to contemporary issues. For example, numerous churches including ours have expanded their embrace to welcome and affirm LGBTQ+ individuals, recognizing their belovedness as God's children. This is a demonstration of loving our neighbor as ourselves, extending the embrace of God's love to all, in full celebration of everyone’s identity. This is how we welcome the stranger, as scripture invites us to do. 

Our understanding of scripture, in line with the world we inhabit, evolves over time. A child reading Matthew 22 today will interpret it differently than an adult, and that same child, as an adult, will likely interpret it differently than adults do today. This evolving understanding is a testament to the dynamic and living nature of God's Word, which communicates to us across different generations and cultures.

This evolving comprehension of scripture should not be seen as a weakness; rather, it's a strength. It's an indication that our faith is vibrant and responsive, similar to how the Israelites under Joshua's leadership adapted to their new existence in the Promised Land. We, too, must adapt to our changing world, always guided by our love for God and our neighbor.

As we reflect on Reformation Sunday, we celebrate our Church's capacity to reform in response to the world around us. We pay tribute to those who blazed the trail, from Martin Luther, who sparked the Protestant Reformation with his Ninety-Five Theses, to modern-day reformers who continue to shape our Church's evolution. This includes you! You too are a reformer. Think about it. 

Our new mission statement invites us to live God's love in the way of Jesus Christ. This is an invitation to embody the teachings of Jesus, to love God, and to love our neighbors in every aspect of our lives. It's a call to action – to serve, to embrace, and to love, especially in the face of uncertainty or unfamiliarity.

In the same spirit, when we come across people, ideas, or situations that are new or foreign to us, we might not understand them immediately. But our response, guided by Jesus’ teaching and now even our own mission statement, should always be grounded in love. We are called to listen with open hearts, to learn with open minds, and to love without reservation, even when we don't fully understand.

We reform society, the church, the world – all of God’s kingdom – when we love. When we let God’s love through us be so tenacious that there is no avoiding, ignoring, or escaping it; this world will change for the better. Your love, my love – all of our love – all of us – will change this world for the better. 

Our journey is not a solitary one. We are part of a larger body of believers, each contributing to the growth and health of the whole. Our faith is not static but dynamic, continually growing and evolving as we engage with the world around us. It's a journey of transformation, of constantly becoming, as we live out God's love in the way of Jesus Christ. Our growth as individuals and as a community must be rooted in love, truth, and unity in Christ. 

And while the path ahead may be filled with challenges and uncertainties, we can take comfort in the unchanging nature of God's love. In the words of Hebrews 13:8, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." Despite the ever-changing nature of our world, God's love is our constant, providing a firm foundation upon which we can stand.

Our faith rooted in God’s love is a sanctuary in times of fear and uncertainty. It is a beacon guiding us forward. And in a world that is continually changing, God's presence and love remain our steadfast anchor.

May our love for God inspire us to love our neighbors, and may our love for our neighbors deepen our love for God.

"We are imperfect people striving to live God's love in the way of Jesus Christ." 

This statement – our statement – will guide us on our journey, reminding us that while the world around us may change, our call to love remains the same. May our love for God and our neighbors be the compass that guides us through the changing landscape of our times.

The Reformation was not a one-time event 500 years ago but a continual process. It is an ongoing journey of seeking, questioning, learning, and growing. It requires us to be open, receptive, and responsive to the Spirit's movement in our lives and in our world.

Just as the early disciples were called to spread the good news, we too are called to share God's love with the world. We are called to bring hope to the hopeless, comfort to the grieving, and light to those in darkness. We are called to serve, not out of obligation, but out of love.

The journey may not always be easy. There will be times when we feel lost or uncertain. There will be times when we are challenged and tested. But we must remember that God is with us every step of the way. Just as God guided the Israelites through the wilderness, so too does God guide us.

We are a church of reformers, a church of change. We are a church that is not afraid to question, to adapt, to grow. We are a church that is dedicated to serving God and serving our neighbors. We are a church that is guided by love.

As we face the future, let us hold on to the truth of Romans 8:38-39, "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Our path may not always be clear, and our steps may not always be steady. But with God's love as our compass, we can navigate the evolving world of our time with courage, wisdom, and faith. As we move forward, we will strive to live God's love in the way of Jesus Christ; imperfect people loving God with all our heart, soul, and mind, and loving our neighbors as ourselves.

"We are imperfect people striving to live God's love in the way of Jesus Christ." 

Amen.

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"For Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, Forever"

“‘For Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, Forever’” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on August 27, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 21:18.

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Scripture text:
1 Chronicles 29:10-13
Revelation 11:15-19
Luke 11:1-4

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Today, we conclude our journey through the Lord's Prayer, arriving at the final sentence, "For Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, Forever. Amen." 

This line not found in Jesus's original prayer in Luke 11:1-4, nor is this line found in the Lord’s Prayer according to the Gospel of Matthew. It was added by the early church, and it’s our focus for today. 

Throughout our eight-week series, we have explored the Lord's Prayer line by line, allowing it to shape our understanding of prayer and deepen our connection with God. And at times throughout this series, we have delved into the depth of Albert Curry Winn's book, "A Christian Primer." 

With the Lord’s Prayer, Winn emphasizes the need for Christians to fully grasp the relevance of the prayer Jesus gave us 2000 years ago, not as mere recitations, but as an embodiment of our faith and trust in God. 

We continue that embodiment today as we explore our concluding line of the Lord’s Prayer.

But before we start diving into the prayer, we need to talk about why this sentence is part of our prayer, even though according to the two gospels where the Lord’s Prayer is found, this line is not. 

If any of you have a Catholic background, you might have realized the Catholic version of the Lord’s Prayer would have concluded last week with “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil” similar to how the prayer concludes in both the Gospels of Luke and Matthew. But as Protestants, we conclude the prayer with an affirmation, “For Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, Forever. Amen!”

According to the Gospel of Luke, Jesus taught his disciples this prayer before his death and resurrection. In fact, he taught his disciples this prayer with the shadow of the cross falling across his face. He knew what was to come in the few short days ahead, so it would make sense for Jesus to end his prayer on a somber note: “Lead us not into temptation….”

But the early church lived through Jesus’ miraculous story. Despite the cross, despite the shadow of Gethsemane, despite the horror of Calvary, despite persecution and martyrdom, despite DEATH! – the resurrection triumphed over all. To make sure this cry of triumph was heard loud and clear by everyone, the early church took King David’s words as recorded in 1 Chronicles as their own. David was singing praises to God after the materials for the great Temple Solomon was going to build were assembled. On the verge of great change, like the start of the temple, David wanted all prayers of praise and thanksgiving to be given to God and for the world to be perfectly clear on this. It was only fitting that on the verge of another great change, like the start of the Christian church, the early followers of the Way would also want all of their prayers of praise and thanksgiving to be given to God and for all around to know exactly who they believed ruled over them. 

This addition to the prayer served as a doxology, a hymn of praise to God, that summarized the people’s faith. It was a way for the early church to assert their trust in God's eternal sovereignty, power, and glory in a time of great persecution and uncertainty. 

Unlike the six petitions before, this part of the prayer is an affirmation. This was their confession of faith. 

And it’s ours. 

When we conclude the Lord’s Prayer, we are praying that what we have asked of God is in fact already done. God answers our prayer as we pray it. 

The relevance of this final line in today's world cannot be overstated. We live in a time of uncertainty and challenge. We face personal struggles, societal issues, and global crises. Yet, just as the early church found solace in God's eternal reign, so can we. 

The conclusion to this prayer is a faithful and powerful “nevertheless”.

When we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we are not praying, “Our Abba – all is right in your world. Therefore, “Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, forever” – Therefore, all praise and honor are yours, O God. No! We are not saying this at all!

It’s quite the opposite. 

When today’s leaders, like tyrants of the past, bring great harm upon the innocent. In any country that allows the death of countless children and the persecution of individuals based on their beliefs, gender, race, or orientation. In the creation of weapons capable of annihilating humanity, we still pray. Nevertheless, thine is the kingdom! 

When those in power today have the ability to displace and make refugees of the poor. In this century, millions are forced to flee their homes as refugees. And that’s just one example. The powerful continue to amass more power, ruthlessly enforcing their will, while the powerless grow weaker, struggling to fulfill their desires. And when the church attempts to engage in the power struggle, it is labeled as “too political”. And when the church inspired by God, aligns with the powerless, it might appear weak and foolish in the eyes of the world. But nevertheless, thine is the power!

And in our time, everything – everything – besides God is given splendor. The masses celebrate athletes, rock singers, and comedians, while the name of God is disrespected and dishonored as basic human rights are being debated and stripped across our country. Nevertheless, thine is the glory!

When we are praying the Lord’s Prayer, we are praying, “Our Abba – We are hungry, feed us. Our Abba – We are sinful, forgive us. Our Abba – We are facing evil, save us! – And even though we are hungry and sinful and experiencing evil, nevertheless, “Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, forever.”

Because we have faith that God will always – always!  - feed us, forgive us, and save us. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow! Always! 

Even though our futures are uncertain, nevertheless, our faith is in God. 

The final line of the Lord's Prayer stands as a beacon of hope in the midst of darkness. It reminds us to shift our focus from our individual needs and concerns to the grandeur of God's Kingdom. It calls us to expand our vision and recognize that our ultimate purpose lies in aligning our lives with God's eternal plan.

In a world where power structures crumble, where justice often seems distant, and where the pursuit of glory can lead to despair, this line of the prayer invites us to trust in God's unfailing authority. It is a reminder that true power resides not in human hands but in the hands of our loving Creator, who upholds justice, mercy, and love.

This prayer extends beyond the boundaries of time. It speaks to our present circumstances and resonates with the cries of our hearts. It teaches us to find peace and strength in knowing that God remains in control. God’s Kingdom is unshakeable, God’s power is limitless, God’s glory is everlasting. It is in God’s Kingdom that we find justice, in God’s power that we find strength, and in God’s glory that we find hope.

As we conclude our exploration of the Lord's Prayer, may we carry with us a renewed understanding of these profound words. We conclude by remembering these words are not empty recitations but an affirmation of our unwavering faith. Listen to Winn as he concludes his own reflection on the end of the Lord’s Prayer. 

Does the [Lord’s] prayer end with a great self-deception? Are we saying that what is obviously not true is true after all? Not exactly. The Hebrew prophets used a strange and wonderful grammar. They spoke of the certain future in the present tense. What God says will be, already is! The end of our prayer declares that in spite of those who presently exercise the rule and the power and the glory, in spite of the ecological crisis and the nuclear buildup and all else that threatens us, this is the world's future: God's name shall be hallowed, God's kingdom shall come, God's will shall be done! We cannot say how or when, but the promises of God stand sure. So we end our prayer by shouting in the grammar of the prophets, Tomorrow is here! As Don Shriver puts it, ‘When we add the doxology to the Lord's Prayer, along with the early church, we are leaping ahead, so to speak, to claim our places in the hallelujah chorus of the end-time.’

Why do we stand for the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ when Handel's Messiah is performed? Not just because a king of England stood long ago. Because that magnificent text from Revelation declares our wildest hopes to be present truth. And Handel found music that says, ‘Yes, it is true after all!’

Quiet, now. Can you hear it above the wails of the ambulances, fire engines, and police cars? Above the whine of jets carrying death on their wings, the throbbing of submarines carrying death into the depths of the sea, the crash of falling bombs, the roar of helicopters, the rattle of small arms? Above the strident debates in Congress and in the United Nations? Above the anodyne of rock music that numbs our eardrums to the uglier noises of life? Do you hear it?

The kingdoms of this world are become 

the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ; 

and he shall reign for ever and ever.

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah!

To which we say, ‘Amen!’ It is so. May it be so. And may we live now as though it were already so. Amen and amen.”

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Ascension, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54351 [retrieved August 28, 2023]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/skip/111045024/.

"Thy Kingdom Come"

 “‘Thy Kingdom Come’” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on July 23, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 36:10.

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Scripture text:
Luke 6:17-26

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For the last couple of weeks, we have been preaching on the Lord's Prayer. We've been breaking it down week by week and reflecting on the different lines throughout the prayer: "Our Father, Who Art in Heaven," "Hallowed Be Thy Name," "Thy Kingdom Come," and so on. 

Last Sunday in our summer series on the Lord’s Prayer, we explored the importance of revering God's holy name and God’s holy actions. We recognized the need for a restoration of the “holy” in our lives and in the world. As we utter the words, "Hallowed be thy name," we acknowledge our desire for God's name to be honored in every aspect of our existence. This prayer takes us beyond mere repetition of words, inviting us to align our hearts and minds with the sacred and to live in reverence of God's presence.

But our prayers do not end there. In fact, that is only the beginning. In the Lord’s Prayer, a prayer that Jesus gave us to say as well as to use as a model for our other prayers, our prayer petitions continue. Today, we pray and mediate on the petition, “Thy Kingdom Come.” 

But before we dive into our scripture passage, I want to reference a book we have been using as a main resource for this series. The Rev. Dr. Albert Curry Winn’s published this book, A Christian Primer, in 1990 (two years before I was born). The Rev. Dr. Albert Curry Winn was Moderator of the 119th General Assembly (1979) of the Presbyterian Church in the United States, President Emeritus of Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, and the leader of the committee that drafted “A Declaration of Faith” for the Presbyterian Church. In his book, A Christian Primer, he reflected on the different lines of the Lord’s Prayer. Here’s a part of what he wrote on “Thy Kingdom Come”:

“Someone commented that ‘Hallowed be thy name’ is a bit abstract. ‘Thy kingdom come’ is a bit concrete. In fact, it may be entirely too concrete for some of us. If you feel that religion should have nothing to do with politics, I advise you to stay away from this petition. ‘Kingdom’ is an incurably political word. When we pray ‘Thy kingdom come,’ we are not praying to be taken out of the political order into some heavenly sphere where no decisions have to be made about how power and money and services ought to be distributed among people. We are praying that God's sovereignty may come to earth and become effective in the political realm and for the political questions that plague us and at times divide us. We are saying, ‘Take over, God. Rule and overrule in the affairs of people and nations.’”

Jesus teaches us that we must pray for the rule of God over all human affairs to become actual, real, and visible. And in a world that often seems devoid of God's presence, we are the ones called to intercede for the coming of God's kingdom. 

But first, this is no earthly kingdom. This is God’s kingdom, and while the petition, “Thy Kingdom Come” is concrete, the word “kingdom” here is a little more difficult to define, 

The concept of the "kingdom" as described by Jesus is both present and future. Jesus declared that the kingdom of God was already at hand, indicating its imminent arrival. In the gospel of Mark, Jesus begins his ministry by bolding declaring, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” (Mark 1:15). He emphasized this further when he cast out demons, stating that if he did so by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God had already come. And whenever questioned about the kingdom's arrival, Jesus responded that it was in their midst and has already made a tangible impact on the world.

However, Jesus also spoke of the kingdom as something that is yet to come. He described how we should receive it like little children. He spoke of the quality of righteousness required to enter it. He encouraged us to seek God's kingdom and to pray for its arrival. Jesus did not detail every aspect of the present and future kingdom, but instead, instructed us to be a part of it through our own actions: repent, believe, receive, enter, seek, pray, etc. And he also used parables to convey its nature. The kingdom of God is like a seed sown in the ground, growing silently until the harvest. It is like a hidden net filled with various fish or it is like yeast in dough that causes it to rise. At times it is hidden, but it is always there at work for something good and great. 

Our prayers and search for the kingdom are aimed at its eventual manifestation, when it becomes visible, effective, and real. The hidden presence of the kingdom guarantees that it will eventually be revealed in God's own timing. Just as one cannot prevent a seed from sprouting or bread from rising, the kingdom of God cannot be stopped from coming.

Which bring us to our passage for today: 

Our passage from the Gospel of Luke presents Jesus preaching the Sermon on the Plain, where he addresses a multitude of people seeking healing and hope. This is similar to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount as found in the Gospel of Matthew, where the well-known and beloved Beatitudes were preached. 

In this passage, Jesus not only brings physical and spiritual healing to those in need, but he also challenges societal norms and expectations. He turns our understanding of blessings and woes upside down, demonstrating that God's Kingdom is radically different from the kingdoms of this world. Jesus reveals that true blessedness is found in poverty of spirit, in hunger for righteousness, and in the pursuit of peace.

In the midst of this proclamation, Jesus warns the privileged, the rich, and the complacent about the consequences of their actions. He calls them to examine their hearts and to recognize the ways in which they have contributed to the brokenness of the world. By doing so, Jesus invites all of us, regardless of our social standing, to participate in the transformation of our communities and the establishment of God's Kingdom.

Because God’s kingdom will bring the great reversal. 

The poor will have the kingdom, and the rich will have only past memories. The hungry will be satisfied and the full will be hungry. Those who weep will laugh and those who laugh will mourn. The kingdom is the great reversal. But it’s more than just the blessings and woes were heard in this passage. 

We have more reversals according to the Gospels. The last will be first and the first will be last (Mark 10:31). Children will be the teachers of adults (Matt. 18:1-4). Servants and slaves will be the great ones (Mark 10:43-45). Tax collectors and harlots go into the kingdom ahead of recognized religious leaders (Matt. 21:31). Those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted (Matt. 23:12) Not those who exercised power, but those who served the marginalized--the hungry, the thirsty, the strangers, the sick, the prisoners-will inherit the kingdom (Matt. 25:31-46).

This kingdom, far from being a distant dream, is a reality that we can actively participate in. It is a kingdom of justice, love, and peace, where God's will is done on earth as it is in heaven. When we pray, "Thy Kingdom Come," we are not simply requesting divine intervention, but acknowledging our role as co-creators with God. We are invited to join the work of justice, peace, and reconciliation. Just as Jesus proclaimed the good news, we too are called to share in the ministry of liberation and restoration.

When we pray for God's Kingdom to come, we are asking for the reign of love, justice, and compassion to be established in our hearts, our homes, our communities, and our world. We are called to challenge systems of injustice, to comfort the suffering, and to work tirelessly for equity and peace.

As part of our summer series on the Lord’s Prayer, we have installed new images in our art gallery. We have incorporated eight different images, each inspired by one of the eight lines from the Lord's Prayer. To create this gallery, we assigned eight individuals of varying ages a line from the prayer. They were then tasked with selecting a piece of art from any century that resonated with their assigned line. Accompanying each artwork is a brief paragraph explaining their choice and the inspiration behind it. I strongly encourage you to check this out, as you will feel connected to Christ through his prayer through images. 

I chose one of the images featured, and I chose a photo of the arrest of Rev. James Lawson. You can see it here. 

In 1960, during the height of the Civil Rights Movement, Rev Lawson organized nonviolent sit-ins and protests in Nashville, Tennessee. Rev. Lawson's commitment to justice and equality eventually led to his arrest. In a famous photograph, we see him standing courageously, embodying the essence of God's Kingdom even in the face of opposition and persecution.

Rev. Lawson's story highlights the transformative power of actively living out the Lord's Prayer. It reminds us that the Kingdom of God is not a distant dream but a reality we can bring forth in our communities today. Just like Rev. Lawson and countless others who have fought for justice and equality, we are called to be agents of change and transformation in our world. The pursuit of this kingdom is a responsibility we all share.

Let us recognize the urgency of embodying God's Kingdom in our world today, just as Rev. James Lawson did in his time. We are called to challenge systems of injustice, to comfort the suffering, and to work tirelessly for equity and peace.

May we be inspired by the example of Jesus, who proclaimed the Kingdom of God and called us to repent and believe in the good news. Let us remember that the Kingdom of God is not a distant dream, but a present reality that we can actively participate in. Additionally, we cannot ignore the deep wounds of division and prejudice that continue to afflict our societies. We witness the pain and suffering of this world every day. In embodying God's Kingdom, we are called to actively work towards dismantling all structures of oppression and promoting inclusivity and equality for all.

Today and all days, we draw courage from the life and teachings of Jesus, who consistently challenged societal norms and stood in solidarity with the marginalized. He broke down barriers of race, gender, and social status, demonstrating that the Kingdom of God transcends human divisions. As followers of Christ, we are called to follow in his footsteps, speaking out against injustice, advocating for the rights of the oppressed, and fostering unity and reconciliation.

In our own lives, embodying God's Kingdom means striving to live with integrity and compassion. It involves extending love and forgiveness to those who have hurt us. It includes seeking reconciliation and healing in broken relationships. It means using our resources, time, and talents to uplift others, especially those who are in need.

Imagine a world where the Kingdom of God is fully realized, where justice flows like a stream, and where love reigns supreme. It is not an unrealistic dream, but a vision that can become a reality through our collective efforts. Each act of kindness, each act of justice, and each act of love brings us one step closer to the fulfillment of God's Kingdom on earth.

If anything, at its very foundation, the petition of 'Thy Kingdom Come' is the prayer, the belief, the hope, the call to action: that although God’s world is not as it should be, one day it will be.

It’s the faith that one day our world will be the Kingdom God intended it to be.

Thy Kingdom Come… 

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

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Attribution for above photo: 

Nonviolent Conflict, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59714 [retrieved July 23, 2023]. Original source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/48520962@N03/4459867117.

Workers in the Harvest Field

 “Workers in the Harvest Field” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on June 25, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 23:50.

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Scripture text:
Matthew 9:35-10:8

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Today, we gather to reflect upon Matthew 9:35-10:8. 

Up to this point in the Gospel, even with Jesus’ twelve disciples and his many followers including the women and children, Jesus’ ministry has relied on him to be the sole shepherd, missionary, teacher, preacher, and healer. But Jesus’ ministry has grown tremendously; his very presence has been so transformative in the lives of individuals and the community that endless crowds have gathered at his feet in hopes to hear his Word and receive his healing. Those who received his transformative grace knew that the great harvest God promised was now made ready in the presence of Jesus. 

But the endless crowds meant more and more people needed Jesus. They needed him to preach and teach and heal. The people of Israel were living under Roman occupation. They were a people who had been oppressed and marginalized for centuries, and they longed for liberation and justice. When Jesus came to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God, a message of hope and liberation for all people, these people prayed that their lives would be changed. 

Our passage opens with Jesus looking at the endless crowds and realizing that despite his presence, despite all of his teaching and preaching and healing, despite all the lives that he transformed; the endless crowds were still harassed and helpless. 

Jesus, in his infinite wisdom as the Son of God and as God, saw that his work as the sole shepherd was not enough for the needs of the endless crowds. He couldn’t do this alone. 

The needs of the people were great. The reward – the harvest – was even greater. But the workers – the ones who brought the harvest to the people – were few. So what did Jesus do in his infinite wisdom? 

Jesus calls and commissions more workers! 

He starts with his own disciples… but they are not called disciples anymore. They are now the Apostles, or the sent ones. This is the only time in the Gospel of Matthew where the disciples are referred to as Apostles.

The Apostles, through the power of Jesus, now have the authority to heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, and cast out demons. Jesus is sending his newly commissioned apostles out to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God and to heal the brokenness they encounter. 

I love that this radical act of liberation is just pure common sense. The needs are great. The harvest is greater. But the workers are few. So Jesus calls and commissions more workers to bring the great harvest to meet the needs of the people. 

But it’s not just anyone that Jesus commissions. It’s the twelve disciples. It’s twelve diverse young men from different walks of life, professions, and backgrounds. Each of them have different stories and gifts, but they have the right gifts to proclaim the good news and to heal those who are hurting. Remember, Jesus called each of the disciples by name – by name – to follow him. And now they are called by name go out and go forth. These are the right kind of workers sent by God to bring God’s harvest to God’s people. 

The Rev. Dr. Cleo LaRue, an excellent preacher and theologian and a former professor of mine at Princeton Theological Seminary, modernizes this metaphor. In a commentary on this passage, Dr. LaRue suggests this metaphor, “The game is winnable, but the really good players are few. Therefore, ask the coach to send more good players onto the field.” Or “The burning house is salvageable, but the able firefighters are few. Therefore ask the captain to send more qualified firefighters into the burning rubble.” 

First, when God calls any of us for us to do the work necessary, God is calling the right people for the right work. The athlete is not being sent into the burning building, the firefighter is not up here preaching on a regular basis, and this preacher is not winning any games in the Super Bowl anytime soon. 

But that also means that when God calls the right people to do the right work, there’s no denying that our gifts do not meet the work God is calling us to do. When God calls you, you are the right person. 

But I don’t think this passage needs any metaphors, not a harvest or a game or a burning building. 

If you are an active member of a church in the 21st century, then you know this verse in Matthew 9:37 to be all too true: “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.”

God’s grace is plentiful, but the Apostles are few. 

Now it’s my turn to tell a parable. 

In Lehigh Valley, there was a church on the corner of Cedar Crest and Tilghman, although once upon a time this church was in downtown Allentown but that besides the point. One day, this church went out to the streets and saw the countless people walking around, lost and aimless. The church felt a deep compassion for them and knew that they wanted to do something to help.

The church decided to spread God’s message of hope and love to the people of the city. God asked a faithful group of the church to spread this message, and the reward would be great if they did: God’s Word would be spread.

The group eagerly agreed and set out to spread God’s message. They started by going to the hospitals and comforting the sick. Then, they went to the shelters and fed the hungry. They spoke words of hope to all who would listen! 

As the years went on, the church noticed that there were still many people in need of help. So God sent another faithful group of the church to join the first: their reward would also be great if they did: God’s Word would be spread. 

The second group started working alongside the first, spreading the message of hope and love throughout the city. They too went to the hospitals, homeless shelters, and those in need.

As the church came out of a devastating pandemic, the church saw there were still people in need; in fact, now more than ever. More people were sick. More people found themselves in poverty and experiencing homelessness. More people needed God’s liberating hope and love. So God sent another group of people, some of which came to this church because of the work of the first and second groups, to join the saints of the first and second groups.

The third group eagerly agreed and set out with the others to spread the message of hope and love. They worked hard, doing all they could to help those in need. They too knew the reward would be great: God’s Word would be spread.

When members of the first and second groups saw this third group join them, some saw it as an opportunity to stop the faithful work God called them to do all those years ago. After all, there was this new group sent by God now to do the same work that they have been sent to do all these years ago. And these people were churched enough to know this modern-day parable is inspired from the Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard, from Matthew 20, and they knew that no matter if they worked 50 years or 1 year, their reward from God would all be the same… so did it even matter if they stopped their work now and let the new generation take over? 

We are living in a time of declining church membership, and many people are turning away from organized religion. One of the laments I hear most often in my role is the lack of children and youth at our church. While we have a considerable amount of children and youth in our church, especially when comparing ourselves to the other presbyterian churches in the valley, these numbers are nothing compared to what they used to be at this church. And I get that; I really do. But while most of us are quick to lament the current numbers of our children & youth, I am lamenting the number of adults who want to work with our children & youth. 

While it might make logical sense that with less children & youth, this means that we need less adult support for our children & youth. But I know every single person in this room knows this is not how it works. When our numbers go down, now more than ever do we need more people serving. 

Replace children & youth with any other ministry in our church: mission, pledging, serving as elders & deacons, joining a bible study, and this message is still true. When our numbers go down, now more than ever do we need more people serving. 

The first group sent by God to spread God’s Word all those years ago is still just as necessary as the third group sent by God this year. And if the first or second group stops their work now because they see this third group now stepping up and serving, then they are doing nothing to meet the needs of the world today. And as we all know, those needs are greater than ever. 

The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.  God’s grace is plentiful, but the Apostles are few. 

This is a challenge for us as a community. And! This is an opportunity for us to re-envision what it means to be a church today and the presence of First Presbyterian Church of Allentown in Lehigh Valley and in the world today.

Every single person in this room has been called by name by God to be an Apostle; to be a sent one. 

How do I know this? 

Because not only are you a member or a friend of First Presbyterian Church of Allentown… but because you are God’s. 

You have been claimed in the waters of baptism. You have been regularly invited back to this table. You listen and hear and receive God’s Word on the daily. You have been called beloved. You are still called beloved. 

Friends, you are called. 

If God can call shepherds, who were considered to be among the lowest of the low, to welcome the Christ-child, if God can call women, who at the time were to be seen and not heard, to preach the resurrection of Christ, if God can call a whole bunch of nobodies to be the first very first apostles; then you better believe that God can call you too.

And you are. 

The needs are great. The reward is greater. But the Apostles are few. 

But today we pray. We pray to the Lord of the Harvest to send more laborers into the harvest, to bring the harvest to those in need. 

And God must be answering our prayers today because here we are… and in just a few moments, we will be sent out into this world. We leave this place as Apostles. We will proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God, and we will heal the brokenness we might encounter. 

Listen to the Message translation of Jesus’ words to his disciples at the end of our passage today: “Go to the lost, confused people right here in the neighborhood. Tell them that the kingdom is here. Bring health to the sick. Raise the dead. Touch the untouchables. Kick out the demons. You have been treated generously, so live generously.”

That commission is now given to us.
It starts right here, with you and with me.
We are called. 

Amen. 

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Pencz, Georg. Christ Speaking With the Disciples, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56411 [retrieved June 25, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Christ_Speaking_to_the_Disciples,_from_The_Story_of_Christ_MET_DP855491.jpg.

Where Are You Headed?

 “Where Are You Headed?” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on April 2, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 46:00.

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Scripture Text:
Matthew 21:1-11

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I have a request for each of us today. I want us each to wave our palms during the sermon today. I’m serious. Don’t injure yourself, don’t put yourself out of breath, and don’t terrorize your neighbor. But wave your palm proudly high up in the air for as long as you can. I’m going to do it too. 

Let me tell you about Palm Sunday. Sorry to Christmas or Easter, but Palm Sunday is my personal favorite day of the church calendar. I love the fanfare of it. I love the palms and the way they call us to worship in a different way. I love the way it joyfully, powerfully, and humbly prepares ourselves for Holy Week and Easter Sunday. I love that the Palm Sunday scripture text is found in all four gospels and is still so relevant today. I love Palm Sunday!

But the number one reason I love Palm Sunday is because six years ago, I was ordained as a Minister of Word & Sacrament on Palm Sunday. It was the day that the very same church that told me I would be punished for being gay affirmed my call as an openly gay man leading the church. I call it my own Triumphal Entry into ministry. It was a beautiful day that I remember with great joy and gratitude. 

A year after being ordained, I was scheduled to preach on Palm Sunday. I remember being so excited to have the opportunity to preach on my ordination anniversary. I think I was going to use it to reflect on my first year of ordained ministry. But that week leading up to Palm Sunday was different. Five years ago, the week of Palm Sunday, youth and leaders organized the March for Our Lives protests across our country. That is because that year, on Ash Wednesday, 17 lives were lost at the Stoneman Douglas High School shooting in Florida. 

That year, Palm Sunday echoed Jesus’ own triumphal entry but instead of hearing, “Hosanna! Lord, save us!”, the crowds shouted, “Enough is enough! Save our kids!”

It is estimated up to 2 million participants marched in the March for our Lives protests that first year, making it still one of the largest nationwide protests our country has ever experienced. 

That number also echoes the original triumphal entry. 

It is estimated that around 2 million people gathered to welcome Jesus as he marched into Jerusalem. 

I imagined that it was on that day of all days of how incredible it was to be a disciple of Jesus. Jesus is riding a donkey and a colt into Jerusalem, and as he does, he is surrounded by large crowds the entire way, with seemingly no end to their numbers nor their shouts. It was a roar; joyful praise and adoration! People throwing down their cloaks; waving branches high in the air; this was the BEST day!

Think of what happened, just a few moments ago, the praise we sang and the joy we felt as we waved our palm branches during our opening song. How cool is it that we get to do that in church?! To sing and celebrate the coming of our Lord? That’s the joy millions felt as Jesus rode that donkey and colt into Jerusalem. The world bowed at his feet, threw cloaks on his path, and sang of his greatness. 

The disciples got to be a part of that as the inner circle, his closest friends and followers. They got to experience this pure joy; they too were heroes! I’m sure they loved it! 

And can we blame them? Who wouldn’t want to be associated with Jesus on that day? This is the Lord of all; and they got to march with him! We still get to march with him and for him, and as Christians, we gladly do so! 

Are we still feeling that joy as we wave our palms now?

This is the best day. This is Jesus in a moment of power and status, praise and triumph—this day of all days, I am with Jesus, just like the disciples gladly were.

But do we understand what the first march stood for? 

Jerusalem was a Jewish city, but it was still under Roman rule. Every year, around the Passover, the Emperor would parade through Jerusalem, where all of the Jews lived. The Emperor would march through Jerusalem with all of his soldiers, weapons, and prisoners just to remind the Jews that he was their ruler, even greater than their God. 

Jesus’ march, simultaneously happening as the Emperor’s march, was a direct threat to the Roman empire. The Emperor’s march carried the threat of death if you disobeyed, Jesus’ march was an invitation to life if you dared to follow. 

The people were given a choice. They could be complacent in a broken system that welcomes death. Or they could rebel and protest a broken system, which might lead to their own death, but bring new life onto others. 

What happened that week after Jesus’ march in Jerusalem?

The disciples will soon leave Jesus. They eventually gather together one last time to share in the Passover meal. You know the story. Jesus takes a loaf of bread, blesses it, and breaks it. He then takes a cup, blesses it, and pours it. Both shall be done in remembrance of him. And all the disciples participate; it’s the last time before Jesus’ death that they are truly all together; that they are with him.

The moment Jesus goes out into the Garden of Gethsemane, his disciples will soon scatter. They all leave him as he is arrested, tried, tortured, and then crucified. The disciples, the very same people who were with Jesus as millions welcomed him into the city, became swallowed by a broken system. It was easier to accept the way things were in the broken system rather than accept the invitation into creating a new, better system. 

And friends, as much I would like to question what the disciples were thinking, I can’t. I don’t get to question why they left. because I’ve left Jesus behind too. And maybe, whether intentionally or not, you have too.

A few years ago talking to a friend about how often Presbyterians celebrate the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper. Her, being a faithful Catholic, was appalled when I told her that it’s about once a month. Her jaw actually dropped when I told her our polity, as found in the Book of Order, only requires a minimum of once a quarter. Catholics requires the Sacrament of Lord’s Supper to be celebrated every week at the first least: that’s 52 weeks a year. Presbyterians require a minimum of once a quarter; that’s 4 weeks a year. So First Pres, we’re at least beating the minimum; good for us! My friend, in her state of shock, then asked why we only celebrate it once a month.

And I slipped up and said the words that sent her into a tailspin. When she asked why we only celebrate it once a month; I said, “I guess we only celebrate it when it’s convenient for us.”

And although I didn’t actually mean it the way that I said it or the way it came across, my friend started a truthful and just rant. I’m going to save you all from that full conversation, but I will share a powerful line. In her rant, she said, “Where in the Bible does Jesus say, ‘Take up your cross and follow me when it’s convenient for you.’”

Heh. She’s right.

Friends, the disciples gladly were with Jesus during the Triumphal Entry. They didn’t question anything; they didn’t turn their backs. They gladly walked alongside him as people joyfully cheered and bowed and everything was easy and fun and exciting. But the moment it wasn’t easy and fun and exciting; they left. And at times, so do we.

How is the Palm Waving? Are we still doing okay?

When I was in seminary, for two summers, I worked at a Christian outdoors camp in North Dakota. That camp – Camp Metigoshe – would host a Christ-hike every Wednesday for the campers on site that week. It was a passion play that showed the life of Jesus, from his baptism in the Jordan to his death on the cross and eventual resurrection. A few of the counselors and staff would play the role of Jesus as well as other characters including John the Baptist, some of Jesus’ disciples, the Samaritan Woman, the blind man, Pontius Pilate, etc. If we were a counselor without a part in the Christ-hike, we still had two lines. 

During the scene of the Triumphal Entry, as Jesus marched into Jerusalem, counselors and staff were supposed to initiate the cries, “Hosanna! Lord, save us!” and invite the campers to do the same. 

Our second line came a few scenes later. After Jesus’ last supper, after praying in the garden, after his betrayal and arrest; Jesus comes before Pontius Pilate on trial. During the scene, Pilate asks the crowds what we should do with Jesus. This time, the counselors and staff were supposed to initiate the answer until others joined us. When Pilate asked us what we should do with Jesus, we shouted, “Crucify him!”

To this day, I still believe this juxtaposition of lines is an accurate representation of what it looks like for us to follow Jesus. On our faithful days, we shout, “Hosanna! Lord, save us!” On our days we feel too inconvenienced, we unintentionally shout, “Crucify him!” 

This week, like all the other many weeks our country experiences a school shooting, is a holy week invitation to see just how far we are willing to stay with Jesus. Will we continue to shout “Hosanna! Lord, Save Us!” or will we give in and become complacent in a broken system as we shout, “Crucify him!”?

“I need my guns.” Crucify him!

“We should ban drag queens and books.” Crucify him!

“I have no power to make a difference.” Crucify him!

Crucify him! Crucify him! Crucify him! 

I can see why the crowds and disciples left Jesus. It was all too easy to fall victim to a system that made them feel powerless. 

But when Jesus defeated death upon the cross, the disciples found their power once more. And they marched and they protested and they preached, and soon the broken system broke and the invitation to life and new life was spread.  

I believe in this power today. Because I will tell you this is not a partisan issue. It does not matter if you are a republican or a democrat or neither. The republican parent and the democrat parent wants just as badly for their child to come home safely as the other. And I don’t think a single person in this room disagrees with me on that. Our children’s lives are and always will be our priority. Right there, we have found the common ground to have a conversation that invites others into relationship, and together we have the power break the broken system. 

And it will be hard. It will be hard to have patience with each other. It will be hard to figure out the right solution. It will be hard to stand your ground when others might challenge you. But it will be even more hard to hear another Palm Sunday sermon five years from now following even more school shootings and even more lives lost. 

Like waving our palms, being a Christian is sometimes tiring and painful. It is easy and joyful when it’s convenient for us. When our lives are filled with blessings, you better believe all of us are singing our loudest praises for God. But being a Christian also means following Christ beyond the Triumphant Entry and into the shadow of Gethsemane and the horror of calvary. Being a Christian means taking up the cross at all times, not just when it’s convenient to us. Being a disciple of Christ means we still wave our palms and still shout “Save us!” when life is exhausting and painful and hard. 

Five years ago I heard the best Palm Sunday sermon to this day. Probably one of the best sermons I’ve ever heard. But it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t even a clergy’s. 

It was the youth marching in the streets shouting, “Enough is enough! Save our kids!”

Hosanna. Lord, save us. Hosanna. Lord, save us. 

Are you still waving your palms? At this point, it probably has become hard and difficult and perhaps even painful. But that is the requirement of us as Christians: to follow Christ even when it’s hard. That is how we heal a broken system. 

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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Will You Give Me a Drink?

 “Will You Give Me a Drink?” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on March 12, 2023. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 47:42.

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Scripture Text:
John 4:1-42

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This Lent we are Seeking. We are asking questions.

Last Sunday, we were introduced to Nicodemus who approached Jesus in the middle of the night to ask a big faith question, as found in the Gospel of John chapter three. This Sunday, we have Jesus approaching a new character, the Samaritan Woman at the Well, at noon day, as found in John 4 as we heard today. While the interactions carry some parallels, the differences are even more striking.

Nicodemus is a Pharisee, an insider, a leader of the Jews. He is a man, he has a name, but he comes to Jesus by night. The character to whom we are introduced in this week’s text is a Samaritan, a religious and political outsider. She is a woman, she has no name, but she meets Jesus at noon, in full daylight.

Nicodemus’ questions directed toward Jesus turn into Jesus giving Nicodemus a religious lecture that roughly has been recorded into 21 verses of scripture while the woman’s questions of Jesus turn into a theological conversation between the two that lasts 42 verses. In fact, it’s the longest recorded conversation Jesus has with anyone is all the four gospels.

With Nicodemus, Jesus tells him that Jesus is the Son sent by God, but with the Samaritan Woman, Jesus tells her that he is God.

And even Nicodemus last question to Jesus is demanding more answers of him, “How can these things be?” while the woman’s final question is a rhetorical revelation to the community, “He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”

But the best parallel between the two stories, in my opinion, is the example that John 4 is of something Jesus says in John 3.

In John 3, when lecturing Nicodemus, Jesus says the beloved line that so many of us still know today.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

For God so loved the world…

The entire world.

Not just the Jewish people but the world. And to prove it, especially to his disciples that are traveling with him, Jesus challenges the very notion of who he came to save.

Our text opened with Jesus leaving Judea, where he just had the conversation with Nicodemus, and heading back to Galilee. Verse 4 says that Jesus had to go through Samaria.

But the truth is, most of the Jewish people, when traveling from Judea to Galilee, would have taken a longer safer route across the Jordan to avoid Samaria with whose residents they have deep-seated animosity.

But Jesus tells the disciples they have to go through Samaria. The disciples among others need to fully see and witness and experience and even be a part of the world that Jesus came to save. Samaria is an example of the world.

But more than just the disciples needing to see an example of the world, Jesus needed to find this woman. Jesus needed to find this woman.

How can we be so sure? Because it was Jesus who first spoke to her. Which is unlike Nicodemus who needed to find Jesus and first spoke to him.

Jesus begins by telling the woman to give him a drink and it opens the door to a beautiful theological conversation. Can you imagine that? Deep, profound, complex, complicated, rich, challenging, inclusive theology from the simple request for water.

Last Sunday we asked our worshippers in our 8:45 a.m. service to write down a question for Jesus. If we were like Nicodemus and were able to ask Jesus a private question in the middle of the night, just the two of them, what would it be? Most of those questions were the deep, honest questions many of us would ask. There were questions on sin, suffering, trials, temptations, salvation, and identity. But there was one question that one of our worshippers wrote that really stood out to me, because it was so different. And it was question that I think Jesus would answer.

The question that this person would ask Jesus in the middle of the night, just the two of them, is… “Jesus… what is your favorite color?”

Now, I’m going to test you real quick, raise your hand if you can answer the question, “Why did God let sin into the world?”

Now raise your hand if you can answer the question, “What is your favorite color?”

I can talk with any of you about your favorite color. It doesn’t matter our age, gender, skin color, political affiliation, background, or story. I can talk with just about anyone in Lehigh Valley about their favorite color. No matter their education, socio-economic class, or religion. In fact, this is a pretty good universal question that could be asked of anyone around the world: “What is your favorite color?”

Similarly, so is asking for a drink of water.

As the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman begins, Jesus brings himself as an equal to the woman. He is a dehydrated human in need of water. It does not matter that Jesus is a man or a Jew. He is thirsty. And most likely, so is the Samaritan woman, as she is at the well drawing water for herself.

The two find common ground. Both of them are thirsty. It starts with water, a basic necessity of life. Jesus needed to go to Samaria. Now he needs water. And finally, he needs this woman. And she needs him too.

Jesus needs water to drink, and the woman needs living water. But Karoline M. Lewis, in her book Belonging, writes it’s more just needing water or living water.

She writes: “Jesus needs [the Samaritan woman] to be a witness, and she needs Jesus to invite her into this new identity.”

This mutual need is what it means to belong to a community.

This mutual need is also what moves the Samaritan Woman into the revelation of who Jesus is.

Remember the conversation between the two.

The Samaritan Woman sees Jesus first as a man and Jew. As the two continue to talk, she then sees him as a prophet. Eventually he moves into recognizing him as the Messiah.

But he is more than the Messiah.

Jesus is the “I AM!” Jesus invokes the name of God to show that not only is he the Son of God but he is God.

And help us all remember? When does God refer to Godself as “I AM!”?

Exodus 3. God, when speaking to Moses through the burning bush, refers to Godself as the “I AM!”.

But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is God’s name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” God said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’ ” God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’: This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.”

By the way, Jesus and the Samaritan Well are at the Well of Jacob. This story about God and Moses is about both of their ancestors as Jews and Samaritans.

When God declared Godself as the “I AM!” to Moses, an entire nation is set free. The Israelites are saved from slavery. They are directed to leave behind Egypt. They are promised a land flowing of milk and honey. God is their provider, and God is with them as they leave behind what they know and as they are delivered into salvation.

So too is it with the Samaritans.

Jesus declares himself as the “I AM!” to the Samaritan woman, the first of many times Jesus declares himself as the “I AM!” in the Gospel of John.

“I am the bread of life.” “I am the light of the world.”” I am the gate.” “I am the good shepherd.” “I am the resurrection.” “I am the way, the truth, the life.” “I am the true vine.”

Jesus declares, “I am the Messiah” to the Samaritan woman, an entire world is set free. They are saved from their sin. They are directed to leave what they think they know behind. You heard even the woman left her jar of water behind when she went back to her town as Jesus’ witness. They are promised salvation. Jesus is the provider of living water, and Jesus – Emmanuel: God with us – is with them.

The Samaritan Woman’s testimony to her people cause the Samaritans to believe Jesus is also for them, in fact, they declare him as the Savior of the World.

Jesus said he came to save the world, and the Samaritans see this.  

In the Gospel of John, it’s the only time Jesus is called Savior.

And it’s interesting, because the Samaritans don’t need the cross or the crucifixion or even the resurrection to recognize this.

For the Samaritans, their salvation is not found in the events that happen during Good Friday or Easter Sunday. Their salvation is found in the invitation to be in relationship with God through Jesus. Their salvation is found in the humble request for water.  

Here, salvation means to belong. To belong to God. To belong to a community. All of this in found in Jesus.

I wonder if any of us would be so quick to rise to conflict or to leave if we truly believed that our salvation is tied to belonging to this community we call our church home.

In my first sermon to this community, I preached on the Parable of the Lost Sheep. That parable teaches us God would do anything and everything to restore the lost sheep back into the flock, no matter that cost. And the moment we met each other, we took a selfie together and I shared that I believe that when anyone leaves a community, we should say this to them: “We are less without you. We are not complete without you. You are a valued, gifted, much needed part of our community.”

I was speaking those words to each of you. And in turn, you were also speaking it back to me.

I need you. I belong to you. And you belong to me. And all of us belong to God. That is salvation.

And it starts with a request for water. Or even more simply, it starts by finding common ground.

Think about Jesus asking this woman for a drink. It was a risk. It was a risk for the Son of God and Godself to be so openly human in this moment. And yet, it is this question – and Jesus’ willingness – that leads to this woman’s transformation, to an entire community’s transformation. Jesus risks everything by speaking with the Samaritan woman, crossing cultural, religious, and social lines, demonstrates his willingness to be vulnerable. When he asks for what he needs, he shows that even Jesus cannot make it alone.

It is the same for the Samaritan Woman. Despite a long list of good reasons why she shouldn’t be vulnerable to anyone, she boldly asks Jesus for living water. And she did so trusting he would give it to her.

Jesus needed the Samaritan woman. The Samaritan woman needed him. They belonged to each other in that moment. That is salvation.

I think the challenge this Lent for each of us is NOT to just be the one to answer the question, “Will you give me a drink?”

It’s to be the one who asks it.

As for Jesus’ favorite color, although I can’t say this for certain, I think it’s the rainbow.

Thanks to be God for God’s Word this day. Amen.

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