Hosanna! Hosanna..?

“Hosanna! Hosanna..?” was preached at Sunnyside Presbyterian Church on Sunday, March 25, 2018. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, commentaries, Palm Sunday / Passion Sunday, and March for Our Lives. This was originally written to only focus on the transition of Palms into Passion and the preparation into Holy Week, but I spent Saturday night rewriting it to include my thoughts following the March for Our Lives marches across the country. You can listen to an audio recording of this sermon here.

----------------------------------

1 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” 4 They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” 6 They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. 7 Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna!

            Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!

10        Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David!

Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

11 Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.

----------------------------------

I want us to imagine what the Triumphal Entry actually looked like. It’s an important story. It’s included in all four of the gospels, each telling the same story but with their own small yet significant details. The version we just heard from the Gospel of Mark has its own thing that sets it apart from the other versions, and we’ll get to that and why it’s a necessary part of the story. But first, as I said, I want us to imagine what the Triumphal Entry actually looked like.

We have people from all over, from the towns and the countryside, gathered together for one purpose. To symbolize one thing. To share in one thing. They raised palm branches in the air, waving them as they cried out together, “Hosanna! Hosanna! Lord, save us!” They cheered together; they chanted together. And Jesus along with his followers marched forward toward the city knowing full well that this city would send him to the cross; send him to his death. And yet still he marched. To resist wrong authority, he marched. To protest the finality of death, he marched. To bring salvation to his people, he marched. Christ marched forward. But not everybody liked it.

It’s not too different from what marches look like today. People coming together from different places for one reason. They make signs to raise in the air; they cheer and chant and cry out together. And they resist and they protest and they bring forth change. They march… and people don’t like it.

Kind of like the March for Our Lives march that took place in D.C. and all across our country, including here in South Bend. Now I’m not going to get into gun reform; that’s not what this sermon is about. We had an Adult Formation class a few weeks ago that was specifically on that topic, which provided a safe space for healthy dialogue and continued progress. I’m thankful for that. And so, I’m not going to talk about gun reform; that’s not today’s point. But I am going to talk about something I saw happen before, during, and after the marches.

I believe in healthy and safe protest. I believe that all people, both conservative and liberal, children and adults, have the right to protest and should do so when they believe we could be doing better. While I personally thought it was incredible for people to come together for something they believe in, there were some people who didn’t like that people were gathering together. Threats were made against the people gathering together. All across the country people threatened to bring guns to a protest on gun reform. And you can’t just say these are empty words. We remember what happened to the march in Charlottesville where someone physically drove a car through a parade of people, killing one and hurting many others. And South Bend actually wasn’t any different; our own city experienced an outcry of rage from people who didn’t like that others were gathering. Fortunately, from what I saw, no threats of bringing guns were made, but following the march, I was on the internet reading the news stories that covered the march. And then I read the comments. Never read the comments. Have you ever heard that piece of advice? Never read the comments. I get it. I get why they say that. Because for every five positive comments, there is at least one harsh, negative, demeaning, hateful comment.

The negative comments from our own march here in South Bend said things such as, “I’m leaving South Bend for hosting such a thing” and “No progress was made today”. There was a comment directly made at youth who were there, and let me tell you, there were many youth there. The comment said the youth are “indoctrinated Hitler Youth march[ing] for the new Fourth Reich in South Bend”. And then there was another comment that stood to me. It said, “I hope all these marchers get pneumonia.” Pneumonia…

I think this comment stands out to me because the last time I preached from the pulpit it was on Mark 1:29-39. If you remember, that passage tells us about the time Jesus healed the mother-in-law of Simon, one of his followers. He healed this woman of a fever. And in that sermon, we talked about the severity of a fever and how it could have led to death. Pneumonia can lead to death. For some of us, we know pneumonia has led to death…

In the Triumphal Entry, people waved palms crying out, “Hosanna! Lord, save us!” as Jesus marched. And when Jesus marched, some people must have already been whispering, “I wish he would die” for just a few days later these people sentenced him to death. At the March for Our Lives, people waved signs crying out, “Enough is enough! Save our kids!” as they marched. And in the same way, some people whispered through the means of the internet, “I wish these people would fall ill.” But despite the threats, the ill-wishings, the negative comments; people still marched. Jesus still marched.

And I can’t help but imagine, Jesus who is the Son of God and is God, knew he was marching to his death for he is All-Knowing and All-Powerful, the courage he must have had to keep marching. That same courage that comes from God that shows in the people who march today.

Because like the people who march today and like Jesus who marched so long ago, there’s this critical juxtaposition of emotion happening. I’m sure there’s hope knowing people have gathered together to bring positive change. There must also be fear for all the things that could happen. And I’m sure there is also sadness as Jesus considers what has already happened and what will happen. I can’t help but feel overwhelmed thinking of all that Jesus must have been feeling, how much raw emotion must have been there, and the time and space it would take to process and accept all those emotions. But Mark’s version of the Triumphal Entry has a detail that I think is crucial to the story.

At the end of our passage, after Jesus has marched forward to Jerusalem, after the people waved their branches and spread their cloaks, after loud cries of “Hosanna” were heard—Jesus heads into the temple late at night. There he takes a moment to pause, to look around, and after “seeing everything,” he leaves. I read multiple commentaries on our passage today, and they all describe how anticlimactic that moment seems to be: that following his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Jesus enters the temple, and then he leaves the temple.

But I have to disagree. Jesus entering the temple to take a moment for himself is exactly what I need to see Jesus do. It’s so very human. I believe that Jesus just like the rest of us would have been resistant to his upcoming death with every fiber of his being, but he made the choice to die for us because he loved us. When we cried, “Save us!” to Jesus, he responded with salvation. So even though he was willing to die, I don’t think Jesus would have wanted to die. That moment in the temple, that moment alone in his Father’s house, that moment late at night when everyone else was in their homes; I believe Jesus took a moment to accept what he needed to do, and when he accepted what was to come, he moved forward with further courage and strength. He was preparing himself for the cross.

As I said, this moment is so very human. When we approach something that will be filled with great sadness or when we approach something that will break our hearts, we are told to prepare ourselves. You know what I’m talking about. As we have conversations with loved ones that we don’t want to have. As we enter into the hospital room. As we witness the death of the people we love. As we grieve at their funerals. As we continue to live our own lives without them. We do our best to prepare ourselves for each of these moments.

One of the best pieces of advice I received when working as a chaplain intern in a hospital was to prepare myself every single time I entered into hospital room. At first, I thought this meant to gather as much information as possible. To read up on the patient’s diagnosis. To learn about their family history. To have scripture and prayers ready for them. But this isn’t what my teachers meant. In fact, some of the experienced chaplains would look up the patient’s diagnosis before they met the patient… and some wouldn’t. No, what they meant was to emotionally prepare yourself so that you as the chaplain would provide the best means of support no matter what was about to happen.

I remember the first time this preparation was crucial. As part of the internship, the chaplain interns would have overnight on-call shifts once a week. My first on-call shift I was woken up a little after midnight to receive call saying a chaplain was needed as a woman was actively dying. Hearing that a woman was dying instantly took my slumber-filled brain into a moment of adrenaline and panic; everything hit me like a frantic rush and I was instantly overwhelmed. But I remembered the advice I was given; to prepare myself for what was to come. And so I started reciting the Lord’s Prayer. As I changed into my clothes, as I walked the halls of the hospital, as I took a moment to breathe outside the patient’s room; I said the prayer we all know, and I said it again and again. It was a calming ritual on repeat. And when I finally entered into that patient’s room, I felt as prepared as I could ever be, and I trusted that God would work through me to provide the support that this family needed. And after that woman died and after I left that room and that family for good, the rush of emotions came back and I was overwhelmed once again. But I also gave thanks to God because while I was in that room, I was prepared to do what I was called there to do.

And I think God continues to prepare us every day for what comes next, especially this day for this upcoming week. Palm Sunday is an exciting Sunday in the church; it’s even a fun Sunday. Did you love the kids processing this morning during our first hymn? That same joy in their faces as they waved their palms was the same joy that was felt by the people who waved their palms when they saw Jesus riding the colt. That joy has lived on throughout the years and is seen almost every Palm Sunday. But it’s important to note that Palm Sunday is also Passion Sunday. We remember that Jesus marched into Jerusalem knowing he was headed to the cross. Our shouts of joy will soon turn into shouts of anger: “Hosanna” into “Crucify him!” We know this feeling all too well. Our own shouts have turned from joy to anger. And then our worry for ourselves will cause us to abandon Christ. And then we’ll feel guilty and sad as he hangs and eventually dies on the cross. And then we’ll be in shock as we see the emptiness of his tomb. And then we’ll doubt the first time we see him, and we’ll ask to see the holes pierced through his limbs and stomach. But then we’ll celebrate the moment we realize it’s him; that he defeated death for us and gave new life to us. All these raw, rush of emotions… and it all happens within a week. We need to prepare ourselves. We all need to prepare ourselves.

For those of us who march just like Jesus marched, let us prepare ourselves to march again and to be ready for whatever is to come. For those of us who didn’t like that people marched, let us prepare ourselves with open hearts & minds and respond to those we disagree with, with love.

Starting today, Palm Sunday / Passion Sunday, we prepare ourselves. We follow what Jesus did. We’re already in a temple; we’re already here in our church. And while we don’t have to be to prepare ourselves, but we are, so let’s take advantage of it. Let’s prepare ourselves for this week. Our joy will soon turn to sadness, the light will soon fade into darkness, our palms will turn into a cross. We’ll feel it in the rest of our service today. We’ll experience it on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday… we’ll remember it on Saturday as we wait in eagerness for Sunday. And then we’ll wake up, we’ll come back together, and we will be ready to celebrate in joy for Easter is indeed coming. And so we march. We will march.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

----------------------------------

Photo Credit to the Office of Mayor Pete Buttigieg

Searching for the Sacred

“Searching for the Sacred” was preached at Sunnyside Presbyterian Church on Sunday, February 4, 2018. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, commentaries, the Super Bowl (ha!), engaging young adults, and an intergenerational storytelling event immediately following worship. You can listen to an audio recording of this sermon here.

-----------------------------------

Isaiah 40:21-31

21 Have you not known? Have you not heard?

    Has it not been told you from the beginning?

    Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?

22 It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,

    and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;

who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,

    and spreads them like a tent to live in;

23 who brings princes to naught,

    and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing.

24 Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,

    scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,

when he blows upon them, and they wither,

    and the tempest carries them off like stubble.

25 To whom then will you compare me,

    or who is my equal? says the Holy One.

26 Lift up your eyes on high and see:

    Who created these?

He who brings out their host and numbers them,

    calling them all by name;

because he is great in strength,

    mighty in power,

    not one is missing.

27 Why do you say, O Jacob,

    and speak, O Israel,

“My way is hidden from the Lord,

    and my right is disregarded by my God”?

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God,

    the Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

    his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

    and strengthens the powerless.

30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

    and the young will fall exhausted;

31 but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,

    they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

they shall run and not be weary,

    they shall walk and not faint.

-----------------------------------

Mark 1:29-39

29 As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30 Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31 He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

32 That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33 And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34 And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

35 In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36 And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37 When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38 He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 39 And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

-----------------------------------

Throughout the four Gospels, Jesus performed many healing miracles.

He made the blind see; he gave voice and sound to a deaf mute.

He cured lepers, those afflicted by skin deformities and disfigurements.

He healed paralytics and caused the lame to walk.

He healed women; he stopped the bleeding of a woman who bled for 12 years and he called a woman to stand up straight after being crippled by a spirit.

He removed intense suffering from a man experiencing chronic pain; he blessed a withered hand; he healed the son of a royal official from a distance.

And Jesus didn’t stop there.

He restored the ear of guard after it was cut off by a sword. He exorcised demons out of many afflicted.

And he raised people from the dead; a daughter, a young man, Lazarus. From the dead he raised them!

We think of all these great miracles; these great and divine healings, and think to ourselves, “What power our savior must have! He can heal anything!”

And Jesus can heal anything… including a fever.

I need to be honest with you all. I’m speaking for myself here. When I first read our gospel passage, my immediate reaction was, “Okay so nothing happened. Good story, Mark.”

What’s funny is we have a person in our life who tells stories like this. A person who hypes up the story they are about to tell. You know the one, the one who gets you on the edge of your seat with excitement as you await for something revolutionary to happen. And then nothing seems to actually happen.

Like, “Hey, I need to tell you something! It’s really good! I went to the store today!”

And so you would naturally respond, “Okay and then what?!”

And then they say, “Oh. Nothing. I just wanted to tell you I went to the store.”

So I admit when I first read this passage from the Gospel of Mark, I had this natural reaction to say, “And then what?”

“Jesus healed a woman with a fever.”                                                “And then what?”

“Well then he went to go pray.”                                                         “And then what?”

“Then he said he wanted to go out to neighboring towns.”               “And then what?”

“And then he did. The end.”                                                               “The end..? What!”

And I also must admit that this feeling of a lack of a revolutionary moment comes from the fact that this story starts with the healing of a fever. A fever! Something I have had; something you have had. Something some of us have had in the last month or even last week.

And I also admit because of my age demographic and the use of modern medicine, a fever doesn’t sound like that big of deal. Jesus who brought people back from the dead also took the time to heal a woman from a fever. I’ve been wrestling with this dichotomy all week.

So I read this story again. And I read it again. And again and again and again.

And each time I read it felt like a door was opening little by little till eventually I was invited into this sacred space.

Because it made me realize that God works great things not only in the grand scheme of things but also in the small. In the almost seemingly trivial matters. Because this story just like the stories of Jesus raising people from the dead matters.

Because we know this story like all stories is the Word of God written with intent and purpose. With divine, sacred meaning.

And these words—these exact words and phrases found in our passage today—hold those same divine meanings. Let us turn back to the first few verses to explore certain words and phrases together.

“Mother-in-law.”

 “Fever.”

“Lifted her up.”

“She began to serve them.”

First, we see that we are still in the first chapter of Mark. Mark as a Gospel moves quickly. In the first chapter alone, Jesus has already been baptized, tempted in the wilderness, called his first disciples, and cast out an unclean spirit from a man. Among his first disciples Jesus called were Simon and Andrew, the fishermen who were called to be fishers of men. And when they were called, they dropped their nets, left their father—their family behind, and followed Jesus without question.

Which is significant because when we hear that story we marvel at the courage Simon and Andrew had because they left their families behind; some of us even understand it as that broke their family’s bonds to follow Jesus. I mean, scholars even admit that the Gospel of Mark can appear to be quite anti-family.

But here, just a few short verses after Simon and Andrew left their families to be disciples of Jesus, they call on him to heal Simon’s mother-in-law. One of Jesus’s closest followers is hurting because a family member is sick, and so Jesus responds. Not by some grand or marvelous act, but by holding her hand.

Which brings me to her fever. Again, I admit; her illness seemed trivial to me; minor in comparison to the many other healings done by Jesus. But a fever can be no small thing. I mean, even fifty years ago, a fever was no small thing. Even today, with certain circumstances, a fever can lead to death. So 2000 years ago in biblical times, a fever was definitely no small thing; no insignificant illness. For Jesus to heal her fever is just as miraculous as making a blind man see.

And when he healed this woman of her fever, Mark tells us that Jesus lifted her up. In fact, in nearly every healing story throughout the Gospel of Mark, the person healed is “lifted up” by Jesus. Lifted up as in raised up. Raised up as in the resurrection. The healing of Simon’s mother-in-law is the first resurrection story in the Gospel and a forecast of Jesus’ own resurrection that will come.

This healing narrative then ends with Simon’s mother-in-law serving Jesus and his disciples. Staying true to customs of that time, “She began to serve them.” The woman who was just sick in bed moments ago is now up and ready to serve the men. But her service to the men doesn’t make her secondary to them in this story; rather, Simon’s mother-in-law is restored by Jesus to be herself once again; to do what she felt called to do—to serve, to feed, to repair, to fulfill responsibilities, and to provide for Jesus. This service and provision to Christ is important in this story because at the end of the Gospel of Mark, when Jesus has been hanging on the cross and just taken his last breath, when all of his male disciples have abandoned him, Mark 15:4-41 says, “There were also women looking on from a distance; […]. These [women] used to follow him and provided for him when he was in Galilee; and there were many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem.”

In the original Greek text, the same verb is being used to talked about Simon’s mother-in-law serving the men in the first chapter and for the women who provided for Christ in the second to last chapter. And because of that, biblical scholars say it’s okay to presume that Simon’s mother-in-law was there with the other women; that she never abandoned Christ even when Jesus’s official disciples including Simon and Andrew did. To be with Christ from beginning to end makes this woman a follower of Christ. To be a follower of Christ who is willing to serve Christ makes this woman a disciple of Christ. To be a disciple of Christ, “then to her has been given the secret of the kingdom of God.” 

So yeah, and I might just be telling myself this but maybe I’m telling you too, this story is so much more than what we get from a quick, initial listening. When we take the time to listen to a story, to just listen, we are brought into that story. And when we are brought into a story, we see its significance and purpose. We feel the emotions and we make sense of the details. The story begins to come alive before us. We are invited into an intimate place of narrative. And in that intimate place, something more happens; something sacred. The words are transformed and the bonds between the listener and teller become stronger. And in that, Christian fellowship happens. A glimpse of the heavenly kingdom can be seen through the relationships growing between God’s people.

It should also be noted what an initial listening to our Isaiah passage would be. Did you hear the animal reference in the last verse? This Isaiah passage, Isaiah 40, one of the four assigned lectionary readings for this exact Sunday ends with, “but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles…” A quick, initial listening would also make it sound like God is rooting for the Philadelphia Eagles today in the Super Bowl.

I admit I laughed at that reference when I read the Isaiah passage knowing today was going to be the Super Bowl. But this passage in Isaiah is similar to the story told in the Gospel of Mark because it is asking us to accept the invitation to enter into an intimate place of sacredness with God.

“Have you not known? Have you not heard?” It invites us to listen; it invites us to learn. And all through this passage are words of transformation: faint to power, legs to wings, weariness to stamina, questions to understanding. We hear and see the same transformations as when we took the time to listen to what Mark chapter 1 was really saying. Once again, we are invited into a more intimate place, and by entering, we are surrounded by a certain level of sacredness.

Now I want us to consider our own setting; our own story. Sunnyside is a place of blessing. It seems we always have one thing after another. Another event. Another project. Another ministry. Another mission. In fact, when Jessica Young Brust, our regional representative for our Engaging Young Adults grant, came to visit Sunnyside a few weeks ago said one of the things that her impressed us most about our church is that even though we already have so much going for us, we still actively listen to where God is calling us as a church to go. We are letting God’s story live through us and our stories.

So we continue to do this. We don’t just sit back and rest. No, we get up and serve. And we know this takes work. It especially takes work as we continue to build relationships as Sunnyside continues to be a new community of faith for people of all ages. Families with kids, grandparents with youth, young adults looking for a place of belonging, seniors looking for a church home. They are all searching for something. And so our ministry grows. And we get excited. We see the faithfulness of God through the members of our community. But in this, God challenges us.

We are an intergenerational church. We are an intergenerational family. We believe that every person here is a child of God and therefore each of your presences here is valued. We believe that if you were not here today, our church wouldn’t be the same without you. First time visitors and longtime members. Our church wouldn’t be as special without you. And then today is intergenerational worship. We have heard and will hear the voices of children and youth and adults of all ages here in this hour alone. And we know each of those voices matter because they are sharing their gifts for the glorification of God.

And then following worship we have our all church lunch downstairs in the fellowship hall. And I’m so thankful for the young adults of Sunnyside who have agreed to host it. Our bible study on Tuesday evenings has become a safe, secure place of community for our young adults here at Sunnyside. And they want to share that community with you. They want to share their stories, and they want to hear yours. They want the relationships they build with all to transform into something sacred. And to do this, all we all need to do is to just listen, to be invited into an intimate place, to respond with gratitude, and to accept the invitation of a new, sacred relationship.

I love that this passage from Mark ends with Jesus going out into a deserted place to pray. When the disciples find him in this place, they say “Everyone is searching for you.” And Jesus responds by saying that he will go to them. Is that not also true for us? We search for Christ. We spend our days searching for Christ. And we know with holy confidence that in our searching for Christ, Christ comes to us, here in worship, here at the table, here in our stories, here in the relationships we build with one another.

Perhaps searching for Christ means we must search for the sacred. And to search for the sacred means we must search for the stories. It’s a beautiful thing to hear God work through people; all we have to do is listen.

Amen.

-----------------------------------

Welcome to the Nativity

“Welcome to the Nativity” was preached at Sunnyside Presbyterian Church on December 24. 2017 at the 11:00pm Candlelight Communion Christmas Eve service. Inspirations for this sermon included Scripture, interactive worship services, Rodger Nishioka, nativity sets, communion as God’s table, discussions from our Young Adult Bible Study, and Sunnyside’s intergeneration community.

-----------------------------------

Luke 2:8-20

8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,

14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,

    and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”

15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19 But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

-----------------------------------

We would make room for you this night of all nights, dear Lord: room in our minds and hearts; room also in our life together. Let your word be born in us anew so that, by the power of the Holy Spirit, your splendor shines in us and through us. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

-----------------------------------

The past two years at our winter youth lock-in, both junior high and senior high, we hold a worship service called, “I am not BLANK enough.” It is directly inspired by this passage found in Luke: God’s revelation of the birth of Christ the Messiah to the shepherds. During that service, the youth are invited to fill in the blanks on slips of paper that read exactly as the title of that service suggests, “I am not BLANK enough.”

It is an activity that surprisingly connects the youth; bonds them together as one community of faith because it’s something they all have in common. It’s something that they have all experienced. And adults, we have too. We have all heard that phrase at least at one point in our lives; probably more but definitely at least once. That phrase “I am not BLANK enough.” 

Maybe it comes from an external source: from jobs you didn’t get, bullies who bring you down, or maybe just friends or family who for some reason just didn’t believe in you at that moment. Or maybe—and this is probably more common—it comes from the internal source; your own voice.

You look in the mirror: I am not pretty enough. You feel out shape: I am not athletic enough. You didn’t get the promotion you wanted: I am not smart enough. Something bad happens: I am not good enough. You feel alone: I am not loved enough.

During that service, the youth acknowledge every single “I am not BLANK enough” phrase they have ever heard in their lives. They write them down, they take a moment to see what they wrote, and then they rip that slip of paper into the tiniest pieces and throw them away straight into the trash. Gone. Garbage. Because when God revealed the birth of Christ to the shepherds, we learned that those phrases of “I am not BLANK enough” are trash. They’re not true. They don’t accurately reflect who we are or what we are called to do.

When Christ the Messiah, our Savior, was born; God told the great good news to the shepherds. People who were probably at the lowest of the low on the social hierarchy. They were probably uneducated. They were probably poor. They possibly had the absolute worst hygiene because they spent their days and nights with (as our children’s program put it a few week ago) stinky, smelly sheep. And they were common. There wasn’t anything seemingly special about the shepherds. The shepherds had every right to say they were not BLANK enough when God came to them. But they didn’t. They recognized the glory that was before them and went with haste to Bethlehem to see in person what God had told them. And when they arrived, they saw Joseph, and they saw Mary, and they saw a baby wrapped in clothes lying in a manger. Before them was the birth of Christ, and in that moment, the shepherds found their place in the nativity.

I’ve been reflecting a lot of what that first nativity scene means for us today. This is because I was recently given my first nativity set made out of wooden twigs, branches, and bark from an anonymous “Secret Santa”. I admit I got a little emotional as I unwrapped each fragile piece in the set.

First I unwrapped the stable, Christ’s first home here on earth. And then came the three wise men, each ordained with a small crown representing age, wisdom, and wealth. Next came the family of shepherds—grandparents, parents, and kids—a multigenerational family profession. Then I unwrapped Joseph. A young man who trusted God and his unwed, virgin bride-to-be. A young man who took his pregnant girlfriend to his hometown. The young man that would be the one to raise Jesus.  Mary came next, I unwrapped her slowly. In my hands I held a figurine of an even younger woman than Joseph. And I remembered that God chose her to bring Christ into the world. Young. Unwed. Virgin. And I remembered that she listened when the angel of the Lord came to her. And I remembered that she rode a donkey for miles while pregnant. And I remembered that she gave birth in a stable, surrounded by animals, because there was no room in the inns. And then at last, I unwrapped the smallest figurine in the set. A tiny baby in a tiny manger. The Word made Flesh, the incarnate God, the Savior the Messiah. Jesus Christ the king. The center of the nativity scene; the reason for the nativity.

Now being the person that I am, I wanted to complete my nativity set; I wanted to be able to see the full scene. I wanted the star in the sky, the angels from heaven, the cattle and sheep that filled the stable; I felt they all needed to be there for the birth of Christ. But I didn’t have a star or the angels or any of the animals from the biblical narrative. So I got a little creative. The star was the easiest. I just used a large candle with the flame to represent the light from the sky. I also didn’t have sheep or cattle… but I did have a little wooden elephant… so my nativity scene features an elephant. And then this morning one of our church members said I absolutely needed angels to be a part of the scene and since I didn’t have any angels, they volunteered a pink flamingo I had elsewhere in my office to represent the angels as flamingos and angels “both fly”.

I look at my nativity scene—the shepherds and the wise men, Joseph and Mary, the baby in the manger, the elephant and the flamingo—and I realize, this is what the church of today looks like.

Because at the very first nativity—at the birth of Christ—everyone had a place. And whether they came right at the birth or days or years later, they were welcomed. They were called to be there. The old, wealthy, senior wise men from the east. The poor, stinky, family of shepherds from the fields. A young, unwed couple becoming parents for the first time, and a baby wrapped in bands of cloth lying in a manger.  Together as one they celebrated that baby; together as one they celebrated the birth of our Savior.

Nothing prevented all who were there from being a part of the nativity. Not their timing. Not their age. Not their ethnicity. Not their profession. Not their socio-economic class. Not their relationship status. Not their gender. Not even their past or where they have been. Nothing prevented them from being a part of the nativity. Rather God came to them, went to them, called out to them and said, “Do not be afraid. I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.”

Is that not who we are as a church today? Is that not what we celebrate here on Christmas? The good news of great joy! The Messiah born in the manger!

Today’s church is the nativity. Today’s church—the body of Christ—will have a place for everyone. We will have our wise men… and our wise women… our wise people. And we will have our family of shepherds and our family of doctors and our family of teachers… and just families of all kinds. We will have our young people; maybe married; maybe divorced; maybe single—they are welcome here. And today’s nativity will have children; oh yes, we will have children of all ages. Babies to teenagers; they will all be invited to celebrate Christ Jesus.  

In just a few moments, you all will be invited forth to the table to taste the good news before you. The body and blood of Christ. In just a few moments, you will be brought before God and Christ in the heavenly kingdom by the power of the Holy Spirit. And in that moment we will celebrate the birth. We will celebrate the life. We will celebrate the resurrection. We will celebrate that Christ WILL come again. You have a place at this table.

And just like nothing prevented those at the first nativity from having their place, nothing prevents you from having your place. Not your timing. Not your age. Not your ethnicity. Not your profession. Not your socio-economic class. Not your relationship status. Not your gender identity. Not your sexual orientation. Not your Christian denomination. Not your immigration status. Not your past; not your present; not your future. Not anything that makes you feel like you are not enough because this is God’s table, and you are made in the image of God, and therefore you are more than enough.

You are invited to be a part of this celebration. You are invited to be a part of this glory. You are a part of God’s story; you are part of God’s church. Welcome to the nativity; welcome to the table.

God said to us, “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people.” And friends, that good news is before us tonight. Thanks be to God.

-----------------------------------

Photo Credit to Amy Sheets

Saved by Grace through Faith

“Saved by Grace through Faith” was preached at Sunnyside Presbyterian Church on Sunday, November 12, 2017. It was part of We Are Reformed-Sola! preaching series. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, commentaries, laughter, the 500^th anniversary of the Reformation, laughter, and Sola Fide & Sola Gratia.

-----------------------------------

Ephesians 2:1-10

1 As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins, 2 in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient. 3 All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our flesh and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath. 4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. 6 And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7 in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. 8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast. 10 For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

-----------------------------------

I’m about to reveal an embarrassing moment from my childhood. There’s a point to this. I promise. Bear with me.

When I was a very young kid in elementary school, we’re talking eight and younger, I showed extreme perfectionist traits. I mean, I was a rule follower. Everything was black or white. A stickler to one and only one way of doing things. And you would think since I followed all the rules, I would be a good kid, right? The kind of kid all parents would want? Wrong. I think my parents would describe young Taylor as… Overwhelming. Obsessive. Occasionally hilarious. But always extremely annoying.

For example, and my dad loves to tell this story, when I first started tee-ball at the age of four or five, I made sure to learn all the rules. Not just the major rules like there’s nine players on the field or the purpose of gloves, balls, and bats; we’re talking the specific, almost trivial rules. Such as if the ball falls off the tee and unto home plate on strike three, the player is out. Well here’s little five-year-old Taylor playing his first game of tee-ball. It’s my turn to bat. I head toward the tee. I’m ready to make the ball fly. This is my moment. Swing… and a miss. Strike one. It’s okay. I’ll try again. No big deal; I got this. I ready myself once again. Here we go… swing… and a miss. Strike 2. I should have realized at this point that I would never have a future in baseball. But I’m not a quitter. I’ll try again. I take my stance; I grip my bat, I eye the ball. Swing… and I make contact… with the tee… the ball falls off… hits home plate… and then rolls forward slight toward the pitcher’s mound. I hear my coach yelling behind me, “Run! Run!” And so I do, I sprint to first base, and surprisingly, I make it safely. 

But then the realization sets in… the ball fell off the tee and hit home plate… so I turn toward the umpire who is probably a fifteen-year-old working his first ever part-time job… and I say, “I’m out.” He says something along the lines of, “It’s okay. You’re fine. Just stay where you are. You’re safe.” And so I begin to argue. I start explaining the rules of tee-ball to the umpire, explaining that I deserve to be out. My coach is telling me to be quiet and just play the game. My parents are hiding their faces in shame. And five-year-old Taylor convinces the fifteen-year-old umpire to declare that I was out. You would think my team would love me for this; I played the game fairly. But no, there was no love for Taylor in that moment. It’s like they wanted to win or something…

This pattern continued for several years. I would disqualify myself at swim meets. I would correct teachers when they missed something I got wrong. I even once told my grandfather that I was dropping out of school because I spelled one word wrong on a first-grade spelling test. Some would describe me as a know-it-all, but I knew the truth… I was just getting what I deserved.

I’m still have “perfectionist” tendencies… but over the years, I’ve learned to let things go and be grateful for what is happening around me. I’ve learned that it’s okay to make mistakes; that I should learn and move forward. I’ve learned that maybe I followed rules too strictly and that I needed to be a little bit more flexible. And I learned not to argue when someone gives me more than what I deserve, even when I don’t believe I fully deserve it.

This fall we have been working our way through our “Always Reforming” preaching series. Together we have been exploring how we are the reformed church, ever reforming.  And two weeks ago we celebrated the 500^th anniversary of the reformation. Five hundred years ago, during the reformation, reformed theologians began developing the solas, or the doctrines that would be central to our tradition. To this day, we recognize there are five solas, and we are making our way through all five of them before Advent starts in just a few weeks. On the day we celebrated the 500^th anniversary, Pastor Jamie started us off with Sola Scriptura, or scripture alone—the belief that all confessions, creeds, practices, and teachings must be rooted in Scripture, the divinely inspired Word of God.

Since we have four solas left to discuss and only three Sundays including today till Advent, we’ll be covering two solas today. Sola Gratia and Sola Fide—grace alone and faith alone. Fortunately, and maybe even divinely designed, both are covered in our passage today found in Ephesians 2.

But before we go into explaining Sola Gratia and Sola Fide, I want us to understand the context of Ephesians. See, Ephesians 2 begins with a direct explanation of what we should deserve. It tells us that we should be out; should be disqualified, should be wrong… it tells us we should be deserving of wrath. Which for someone like me who likes the clear set of rules makes sense. You know, if I actually think about it, five-year-Taylor being the “rule follower” that I was without fully understanding what I meant would be saying, “Give me the wrath! I deserve the wrath!” And the truth is, unfortunately five-year-old Taylor in that moment, represents human nature.

This is because, my friends, before the divine intervention of Christ, we wanted wrath. We didn’t know any better. We were dead due to our sins against God, which should naturally make us enemies of God. That’s what Paul is writing to the Ephesians. He is writing a message regarding death and new life. When Paul starts the second chapter of his letter to Ephesus, he starts boldly and strongly. He declares the citizens of Ephesus as dead. Because of their sins and because of their transgressions, because they are children of wrath; because of who they are and because of what they have done - they were dead. The ways of this world and their responses to it didn’t give them life; instead, it was an infinite death sentence. There was nothing they could do to save themselves; there was nothing they could do to bring themselves to life. And without a Savior - they would continue to be walking a life of spiritual death until the finality of physical death overtook them. They were, and will be forevermore, dead.

And sometimes when we look at what is happening in our world around us; it can make us question whether our world is still dead. In the last four months alone, we experienced heartbreaking amounts of tragedy. Riots in Charlottesville and across our country because of racial hate. Hurricanes affecting our southern coastal states and territories. Wildfires across the states in the east. A gunman raining bullets down during a concert in Las Vegas. And then just this week, a different gunman shot and killed 26 beautiful lives in a church in Texas. A church, a place of worship, a sanctuary. I didn’t even name all of the tragedies that have happened; there’s too many. Is the world still dead? Are we still dead? We may not be the causers of these tragedies, but this is the world we live in; therefore, we are a part of them. Our own sin clings to the sins around us; it’s human nature. And it’s scary because we try do better and then another tragedy strikes. It makes me feel like sometimes we are dead too. But then it makes me realize that grace and faith are incredibly important to hold onto in these moments because we’re not dead. Thanks be to God for a divine intervention.

Now before the reformation took place, the church was teaching Christians that by good works they could pull themselves away from this spiritual death; that by good works they would receive salvation and bring themselves to new life. But the reformers argued that this didn’t make sense; that this couldn’t happen, spiritually or physically, because our human nature wills us to stay dead. That if we had it our way, we would stay dead, away from and against what God intended, and therefore enemies deserving punishment. 

And that is where Sola Fide was introduced. Because all of humankind is fallen and sinful, we are incapable of saving ourselves from the wrath of God. No amount of works can bring us back into salvation. Instead, our justification is by faith alone. Our assurance of pardon is received solely through faith based on the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. Again, this means the divine verdict of salvation is not based on anything done by us but rather on Christ and his righteousness. And the reason why Christ is acting on our behalf according to Ephesians is because of God’s great love for us, because God is full of mercy and grace.

This explanation continues in Sola Gratia. Once again, we hear that no merit on our end can be a part of achieving salvation. Rather, our salvation is given by the divine grace of God; not because we deserve it, but because it is a gift freely given by God. Sola Gratia should be understood in two ways. One, God is the sole benefactor of grace and does so without any cooperation from humankind. And two, that humankind, even under the influence of grace, cannot receive more grace by any actions of our own. We have to see grace for what it is: a gift freely, fully, and solely given by God; it is gift we do not deserve, yet it is a gift that we are still given.

I love that Sola Fide and Sola Gratia are central to our tradition because they show what great love God has for us. It makes me love being Protestant and reformed and Presbyterian because we are reminded how much our God loves each of us. However, there is one thing that we need to discuss that reformed protestants are often criticized for and it’s this: if we are justified by faith alone and receive salvation by grace alone, what is the purpose of our good works?

We believe our good works are done in response to the grace that we have been given; that our good works show thanksgiving for the salvation we have received. It the ultimate glorification of God; the glorification of God that God desires. And at Sunnyside, we respond to what God desires. We build bridges of faith. We act as the hands and feet of Christ. We give God our glory when worship and when we fellowship and when we connect. We respond to the grace we have been given.

Sola Fide and Sola Gratia go hand-in-hand with one another, and they can be put together in one simple phrase: “Saved by grace through faith.”

That’s our takeaway for today. If you have to remember just one thing from the sermon, please don’t make it my memory of playing tee-ball. Remember this: saved by grace through faith. Saved by grace through faith. Make it a mantra. Saved by grace through faith. If any of my confirmation students are using this message as one of their required sermon evaluations, you should definitely write this down: saved by grace through faith. All of Sunnyside, let’s say it together: saved by grace through faith.

Good. There is it. Thanks be to God? Thanks be to God. Amen.  

-----------------------------------