Listening for Hope in Signs and Reminders

 “Listening for Hope in Signs and Reminders” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on February 21, 2021. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 38:15.

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Genesis 9:8-17

8 Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, 9 “As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you 10 and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. 11 I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” 12 God said, “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: 13 I have set my bow in the clouds, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. 14 When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, 15 I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh, and the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” 17 God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.”

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You know the story of Noah, right? It’s a well-known biblical story that we teach to our children in their earliest years. It’s a story that was probably taught to us in our earliest years! At least it was for me..

Need a refresher? Here we go! Genesis chapters 6 through 9.

A long time passed since God created the world. People forgot about God except for one man. His name was Noah. He loved and obeyed God.

“I am very sad that people have forgotten about me,” God said to Noah.

“I am going to bring rain to flood the earth—lots and lots of rain. Build yourself a huge boat of cypress wood.” Noah did just what God said and made a big, big boat with lots of rooms.

Noah was 600 years old when he entered the boat with his wife, their sons, and their sons’ wives. God brought two of every kind of animal to the boat.

Elephants and zebras, lions and tigers, pigs and giraffes, dogs and cats, deer and rhinos, bears and cows, horses and goats, lambs and monkeys all came two by two. All different kinds of animals, birds, and creepy, crawly things came to the boat. Noah took all of them into the boat. Then the door shut behind them.

Inside the big boat the lions roared, the dogs barked, and the birds chirped.

It was stuffy and stinky! It was muggy and hot! On the outside it rained and rained.

It rained big, giant drops and little, baby drops for 40 days and 40 nights. The rains came down and the flood waters came up. The water splashed on the sides of the big boat and pushed it up and down for 150 days. Finally it rested on the top of a tall mountain.

Noah waited and waited until God said to him, “Come out of the boat, you and your wife and your sons and their wives.” Noah’s family and all the animals came off the boat.

They put their feet on dry land. They ran, and skipped, and jumped. They twirled and danced in the sunlight. They thanked God for the land and God blessed them. Noah’s family grew and grew. The animals and the birds and the creepy crawly things filled the earth again.

God painted a rainbow of brilliant red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violent across the sky and promised, “Never again will water flood the earth. Whenever you see the rainbow in the clouds, I will see it too, and I will remember.”

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This is a story we know.

Or so we think.

The story of Noah and the flood is one of the biblical stories that we are so familiar with that we think we know the whole story.

As I said earlier, we teach it to our own kids. I can tell you; our DIG kids know this story. We teach it as a children’s story of animals and rainbows. We teach it as a story of God’s love for all living creatures and how we should remember God’s love each time we see a rainbow. We teach the metaphor that there will always be a rainbow following every storm. I love that message! I really really do.

And yet, this story is not for children at all. This story is about how our God is so angered by human rebellions that God floods the whole earth, wiping out nearly everything in a fit of divine rage. This is a story of a God of wrath who is willing and ready to strike down sinners… and it’s a story of a God who does exactly that. This is a story of genocide.

And honestly, on top of the genocide, this is a story of gender bias as the men in the story are all given names (Noah, Shem, Ham, and Japheth) while the women are all nameless and are only listed as possessions of their husbands (Noah’s wife; his sons’ wives) AND this is a story of extreme ethnocentrism because the moment after God places the rainbow in the sky, the rest of chapter 9 and the conclusion of the story features Noah cursing his innocent grandson and that grandson’s lineage, making him a slave to the future generations of Noah’s other grandsons. That particular story has been used as theological support for Christians persecuting Jews or Christians enslaving people of African descent.

And for some reason, many of us ignore the genocide, the gender bias, and the toxic ethnocentrism of this story, whether intentionally or not. Or even worse, we try to justify it, which leaves this entire story charged with theological potential to be used for evil in generations to come. Or least, let’s be honest, we’re not teaching those parts of this story to our children…

Here’s the thing about Noah and the flood; it’s a children’s story and it’s not. If we want the full story, we cannot separate the story of the ark and the pair of every animal from the story of the flood and the countless deaths of women, men, and children found in this narrative. If we want the full story, we cannot separate the story of the covenant from the story of the curse. If we want the full story, we cannot separate the rainbow from the rain. If we want the full story, we cannot separate the hope from the lament.

That’s the season of Lent we are in this year; a season of both lament and hope. This lent will be a season in which we cry both “How long, O Lord!” and “Alleluia!” This will be a season where we acknowledge all that we have loss and it will be a season where we lift up all that we have been given. This will be a season of tears and smiles. There will be grief and there will be joy. This Lent will be a season of death and resurrection. We cannot separate one from the other. Not this year.

So what if we approached the Genesis 9 passage that Diane read for us in the same lens? One in which we approach the story acknowledging both its beauty and its terror. 

For one, acknowledging the full story will give better insights to what a covenant actually is and why it is important within the context. Here, we see God entering into a binding arrangement with humans and it’s one founded on relationship.

As we heard in Genesis 9:8-12:
8 Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him, 9 “As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, 10 and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark. 11 I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth.” 12 God said, “This is the sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations:

This covenant and the way that God makes it with every living creature for all future generations implies that God will always maintain an ongoing relationship with every being, human and animal; truly all of creation for all time.

But also, acknowledging the full story gives better insight as to why we love this story, despite its overwhelming tragedy.

You see, Noah and the flood is not the only ancient flood story. Set around similar times with strikingly similar flood details, myths of great floods were told throughout the Ancient Middle East, Southwest Asia, and Northeast Africa. Stories that included characters you might have heard of: Atrahasis or Gilgamesh.

But here’s what sets Noah’s story apart. Those other flood myths, with their strikingly similar details, had the purpose to explain why catastrophes and tragedies in the world continue to exist today.

But Noah’s story – Noah’s story – had the purpose to explain the covenant of blessings and hope within great tragedies.

The rainbow placed in the sky is an ongoing sign of hope that things will turn around for the better even during the tough times. It is also a sign of assurance that moments of genocide, gender bias, or toxic ethnocentrism – or really, tragedy in general – should not have the final word.

And God chose to do this with a rainbow; a sign we still see in the sky today and a sign that bears more significance that it did in the world of this passage. Today the rainbow represents the beauty and God-given goodness of the full spectrum of human sexuality. And just as the covenant states concerning the wellbeing of “every living creature” and “all flesh,” no one is excluded from this sign of hope or covenant. Which means that this covenant between God and all flesh established generations ago still exists between God and every girl, woman, boy, man, and intersex person, every lesbian, gay man, bisexual and transgender person, every atheist, agnostic and religious person, every Muslim, Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu, Wiccan and pagan person, every person of ability and perceived limitations, every person of any nationality, ethnicity or racial construction or category, and it even includes those who defy and explode any  of these categories.

That radical inclusivity is definitely a sign of hope that still exists today.

As we continue to navigate the devastation of a global pandemic and as we approach its one-year anniversary, holding onto a message of hope is something we all could benefit from. But we can’t fully do it without also acknowledging the lament each of us carries in our hearts.

One of the reasons that we hold onto this biblical flood story, as a children’s story or not a children’s story, either way – one of the reasons that we hold onto this biblical flood story so tightly is because it reminds us to hope for the rainbow in the storm.

For us, that means even the middle of great tragedies and in a season of lament, signs of hope are still there.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

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Moyers, Mike. Reminder, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57154 [retrieved October 28, 2022]. Original source: Mike Moyers, https://www.mikemoyersfineart.com/.

Practice Joy in All Times

 “Practice Joy in All Times” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on May 15, 2022. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 35:35.

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John 16:1-24

1 “I have said these things to you to keep you from falling away. 2 They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, an hour is coming when those who kill you will think that by doing so they are offering worship to God. 3 And they will do this because they have not known the Father or me. 4 But I have said these things to you so that when their hour comes you may remember that I told you about them.

“I did not say these things to you from the beginning, because I was with you. 5 But now I am going to him who sent me, yet none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ 6 But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts. 7 Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you, but if I go, I will send him to you. 8 And when he comes, he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment: 9 about sin, because they do not believe in me; 10 about righteousness, because I am going to the Father, and you will see me no longer; 11 about judgment, because the ruler of this world has been condemned.

12 “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. 13 When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. 14 He will glorify me because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. 15 All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.

16 “A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me.” 17 Then some of his disciples said to one another, “What does he mean by saying to us, ‘A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me,’ and ‘because I am going to the Father’?” 18 They said, “What does he mean by this ‘a little while’? We do not know what he is talking about.” 19 Jesus knew that they wanted to ask him, so he said to them, “Are you discussing among yourselves what I meant when I said, ‘A little while, and you will no longer see me, and again a little while, and you will see me’? 20 Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy. 21 When a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. 22 So you have pain now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. 23 On that day you will ask nothing of me. Very truly, I tell you, if you ask anything of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. 24 Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete.

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Philippians 4:4-6

4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

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Long, long ago, in the beginning of beginnings, there was an artist that surpassed all other artists. So beautiful; so divine. The architect of eternity; the designer of infinity. The alpha and the omega of all masterpieces. 

She was known as the Great Creator. And in the beginning of beginnings, the Great Creator began to create.  She would devote herself to a new piece, a piece of wonder and beauty. It would be considered one of her greatest works. As she worked, time ceased to exist. How many days passed as she dedicated herself to her art? How many years? Centuries? Generations? It was just the Creator and her work with limitless time to dream and to create. Her fingers flew and her creation swirled. It was almost like a dance – a grand whirlwind of color and formation. There was separation. There was configuration. She shaped it all. Everywhere was individually designed and formed by her touch.

Her fingerprints were on everything. They built up the mountains. They dug down the valleys. Rivers like ribbons wove throughout the two. She created lakes, ponds, and oceans to speckle the creation with ripple and movement. Light bounced off the waters, devising a mirrored reflection of dazzling lights that danced with the Creator herself. It was the finest display of jubilation. There were trees that climbed their way toward the sky, and there were sprouts that flecked the ground with animation. Every plant ideally placed to give her art a purpose. After everything was built and created, after everything was shaped and crafted, after everything was fashioned and formed, the Great Creator began to paint.

She started with blue. Blue everywhere. In the sky and in the waters. There was blue. Then green to hint at world filled with growth. The plants were given green. So much green. She used white and black and every shade in between to distinguish between light and shadows. It gave a contrast in her art. The sun was given gold and the moon was given silver. Each precious color had its moment to shine. And when sun and moon would switch dominions, she would use orange to signal the transition between night and day. She used red here and yellow there. Every color – every shade of color – was painted into her piece. She had given beauty to this world. Her hands had formed this world; her fingers had painted it. But she had one thing left to do before her piece was complete.

With a giant gust of air, the Great Creator breathed into her creation. Every creature and creation felt her breath like a rushing wind traveling through the trees, up the mountains, and down the valleys. And with this breath, the piece was given life. And with that, she was done. Her masterpiece was finished. Every creature and creation bowed down to the glory of her work. They rejoiced in their artist. She smiled down upon them, and in that moment she gave thanks.  And when the creatures and creation saw the Great Creator smile down upon them like a sunrise of dazzling lights, they too rested and gave thanks. For one moment – for just one small moment – If only for a moment… all of creation rejoiced.

There was still so much work to be done. The Great Creator would have to sustain her masterpiece and eventually she would have to redeem it, but here, here in this moment, she and Creation rejoiced in the work she had done. She took a moment to give thanks for the gift she had given to her people for it was one of the greatest gifts ever given. It was a gift to be shared by every creature and creation.  It was the gift of life. And the world rejoiced.

The practice of joy is as ancient as creation itself. From the very beginning of everything, the earth itself sang for joy at the notice of God’s presence in its midst. Look at the natural world around us, from the gateways of morning sunrises to evening sunsets, the roar of the waves and the strength of the mountains, the flow of the rivers and the breadth of the plains – Creation’s beauty practices joy.

And so should we.

Over the last few weeks, starting on Easter morning, we moved into a season of joy. This followed our six Lenten weeks of practicing spiritual disciplines. There we talked about fasting and prayer, listening and resting.

But then we moved into a new discipline, perhaps for some of us one of the most difficult disciplines. On Easter morning, with a church full of life, we rejoiced that Christ has risen; he has risen indeed! For a moment, all of us rejoiced! And we, as a community, made the commitment to continue to rejoice, to practice joy – for at least the next couple of weeks. As our Easter numbers dwindle, as we talk about sabotage and conflict in workshops and small groups, as we move further from the celebration we felt that morning, we still are called to practice joy.

No matter the present circumstance, whether good or bad, if we practice joy at all times, it moves us beyond just a fleeting feeling but into a great act of faith. While it may be easy to practice joy when we experience God’s love, grace, or mercy; it is a true act of faith to practice joy in times of danger, distress, grief, or fear. While experiencing joy during these times of hardship and pain may be more difficult, it is in these moments where God intervenes and where we may experience our most valuable moments of joy. And that is why we must practice joy at all times.

Think of Paul’s joy in his letter to the Philippians. At this point, Paul has accomplished a big part of his ministry, and empires – not just people – empires have noticed this. In fact, when Paul writes to the Philippians, he is currently imprisoned for spreading a message that is too great for the people to hear. He knows there is so much more work he and the Philippians both must do. They must spread the gospel, live actively in their faith, avoid enemies of the cross, obey and imitate Christ, maintain unity, stand firm in the Lord – there’s so much work that needs to be done and right now he is facing hardship and his upcoming doom, but in the letter to the Philippians, Paul rejoices in what has happened and what will happen. He even begins his letter by writing to the Philippians, “I thank my God for every remembrance of you, always in every one of my prayers for all of you, praying with joy for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

Paul uses his joy and the joy of the community of faith around him as an anchor. There is an emphasis on joy because the Philippians are beginning to distinguish things that truly matter from things that do not. And the good news is the things that truly matter are going well. The Gospel is advancing. Ministry is expanding. The work is being done, and this work will continue to be done until the coming day of Christ when their work will be complete. In this moment, Paul calls on the Philippians to rejoice with him. To be joyous and to be glad. Because, yes… while there will be disappointment and worry along the way, God’s promises will be fulfilled.

We could replace the Philippians’ story with our story.

First Presbyterian is beginning to distinguish things that truly matter from things that do not. And the good news is the things that truly matter are going well. The Gospel is advancing. Ministry is expanding. Our work is being done, and this work will continue to be done until the coming day of Christ when our work will be complete.

Think of every moment of God’s blessing to us in our past. Think of God’s current presence in our midst. Think of whatever is true, honorable, just, and more that is happening here!

By looking at God’s unending faithfulness in our lives and in the lives of God’s people throughout time, we can trust in God’s promise of future restoration.

And look at God’s unending faithfulness.

The same Great Creator who gave us of the gift of life also gave us the gift of grace. The same Great Creator who fashioned the world out of nothing also came down in the Word made Flesh to live among us. But instead of coming to us in extravagance and glory, Christ came as a humble servant born in a manger. He lived a life serving others – healing the sick, feeding the 5000, performing miracles of all kinds. With twelve disciples and hundreds of followers, he traveled the countryside. He told stories and preached parables. He lived out God’s love for all us, especially the outsiders – the least of these. In his final days, when Christ knew something was about to happen to him, he had a special supper with his family. The Last Supper; The Lord’s Supper. He broke the bread and poured the cup. It was a promise to our salvation. Then the people who once loved him turned on him. The people who Christ loved betrayed him. They sent him to his death. Christ – the one true Son of God – died an agonizing, painful death on the cross. With his blood – the red of his blood – the same red used in creation – the sins of humankind were forgiven with the gift of grace.

On the night of that supper, Jesus warned his disciplines of his impending death and of their own suffering that was to come. He tells them of their own pain, trauma, and death. But then, he looks at each of his friends, and he tells them the presence of the Holy Spirit will be with them in every moment, and pain will not have the last word.

In fact, Jesus compares their present moment to the pain of childbirth, which is why I wrote God as female in my creative creation story. Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy. When a woman is in labor, she has pain because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. So you have pain now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

In creation, the world was given life. In the resurrection, the world was given new and eternal life. And Christ promised to dwell among us once again.

“So you have pain now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”

There are and will be times in all of our lives where joy feels impossible. Whether from our own errors, the choices of others, or the systems around us, sometimes the present feels grim at best and sometimes, at its worst, the future shows no end in sight. But it is then, that the practice of joy – rejoicing in God’s blessings throughout time as well as rejoicing in the blessings in the lives of those around us – it is then that practicing joy will bear its greatest fruit.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his last letter to his friends, while acknowledging the deaths of so many who died at the hands of the Nazis, urged his friends to practice joy. Bonhoeffer was worried that the horrific daily anxiety, the constant threat of death, and the unceasing war would deaden his friends’ souls. And it would, right? So he wrote this to them: “The joy of God has gone through the poverty of the manger and the agony of the cross; that is why it is invincible, irrefutable. It does not deny the anguish, when it is there, but finds God in the midst of it, in fact precisely there; it does not deny grave sin but finds forgiveness precisely in this way; it looks death straight in the eye, but it finds life precisely within it. What matters is this joy that has overcome.”

Invincible, irrefutable joy…

That is no passing joy; that is not just a feeling.

That is God’s joy present among us, a joy that has overcome all things.

In the midst of whatever pain we endure in this season, we can trust that there is new life ahead, when sins are forgiven, justice is restored, and our broken world is once again made whole.

Embrace this joy. Practice this joy in all times.

In the name of the Father, Son, Holy Spirit, one God, Mother to us all. Thanks be to God for the Word this day. Amen.

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Drawing Near to God by Listening to God

 “Drawing Near to God by Listening to God” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on March 20, 2022. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 38:45.

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1 Samuel 3:1-11

1 Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

2 At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; 3 the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. 4 Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” 5 and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. 6 The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” 7 Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. 8 The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. 9 Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

10 Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” 11 Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle.

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Each week as we journey through Lent, we’ve been focusing on a different Spiritual Discipline. And the Spiritual Disciplines we’ve been focusing on each week come directly from Scripture. Today is no different as today we reflect on and hopefully practice the discipline of listening to God.

Scripture is full of stories of people listening to God. The very foundation of our Christian is rooted in Mary of Nazareth listening to the Angel from God telling her she would be the mother of Jesus. After a moment of shock, Mary replies, “I am the Lord’s servant. Let everything you’ve said happen to me.”

Centuries earlier, there was the story of Moses. While tending a flock of sheep, Moses saw a burning bush call out to him. The voice of God tells Moses to bring the Israelites out of Egypt and after some reluctance and a few excuses, Moses returns to Egypt to free the people.

The prophet Isaiah replied, “Here am I. Send me!” when God called out to him. The 12 disciplines left everything behind to follow Jesus when it was asked of them. Jeremiah first thought of himself as too young when God spoke to him but then became a prophet of the Lord. Even Ananias, who did not want to restore Saul’s (also known as Paul) eyesight due to Saul’s persecution and murder of early followers of Christ, listened to God when God said God chose Saul to be a instrument of God’s Word. And of course, there’s Samuel that we heard from today who said, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

Can you imagine if any of them chose to ignore God’s voice? To say something like “God what you’re saying is really neat but you’re not listening to me…”

We might just have a different story altogether…

A few weeks ago, while scrolling through social media, I saw a disagreement between two people I respect. One had posted an article that shared one perspective on this one thing, and the other person commented saying they didn’t agree with that perspective and then they offered their own. The first person responded in disagreement, and so the second person responded by saying “Just try to hear what I’m saying…”

“Just try to hear what I’m saying…”

And then the conversation was over. No more responses. No more dialogue. No more disagreements nor the opportunities to find common ground. Before the conversation even had a chance to be fruitful or faithful, it was over all based on a comment that there was a lack of listening from the other party.

For those of you who have social media, you have most likely witnessed something similar to what I just described. As of late, the topics could include politics, theology, the pandemic, war, mental health, how we should raise our children, rising gas prices, even sports… just to name a few. And I’m not focusing on the disagreement. To disagree is NOT a bad thing; at times it’s the most faithful thing. I’m focusing on two people talking past each other, a lack of listening, and an abrupt end to a conversation because an understanding that “hearing me” should be synonymous with “agreeing with me”.

This is not just unique to social media though, is it? Have you ever witnessed a conversation where there was a lack of listening? Both parties are talking but neither are listening. And then suddenly one of the two says, “You’re not listening!” (which is most likely true of both parties) and then the conversation just ends.

Or let’s be a little bit more honest, before God and before one another, how many of us were in a conversation and we in that moment lacked the skill of listening?

Or even to take it one step further and to be really honest, before God and before the people we see as our church family, how many of us were in a conversation here at FPCA or in a conversation with a person from FPCA or in a conversation regarding FPCA that lacked listening?

And before we point our fingers and say “Taylor, I know exactly what you are talking about. I know exactly who you are talking about,” then you’re not hearing this sermon. We are all guilty of this, and so today we are looking inward.

Listening to God is a spiritual discipline that we are all called to practice. For some, we hear God in Scripture, in preaching, in prayers, in music. For others, we hear God in nature, in laughter, in the rush of life, and in the silence of it all. Listening to God draws us closer to a God that is always drawing closer to us. Listening to God brings into focus an invitation from Jesus to converse with him, to simply be with him. That invitation to be with Jesus, are you listening for that? Can it really be that simple?

Each of us have a preferred method listening to God. When we want to listen to God, we go do the things that we feel enables us to do that. We go to worship, we turn on music, we go for a walk. But here’s the catch. Should we only be listening to God when we want to listen to God?

Think of Mary. Do you think she wanted to be an young unwed mother? Think of Jeremiah. He did not want to a Prophet of the Lord. Think of Ananias. He was worried that Saul would kill again if he restored Saul’s eyesight.

Or think of Samuel. While sleeping, the voice of God calls out to him. Three times throughout the night, Samuel awakes to a voice saying his name. Three times he goes to his mentor Eli, waking him up as well, to ask what Eli wants of him. And three times, Eli tells Samuel that he did not call for him and that he should go back to bed. It is on the third time Eli tells Samuel to listen for the Lord if he is awoken again.

And of course that is what happens, for the fourth time in the night, Samuel awakes because he hears the voice of the Lord calling out to him and this time Samuel listens to that voice rather than confusing it for Eli’s.

Waking up four times throughout the night…. Sounds like a bad night’s rest to me. Can you imagine, waking up a teenager four times throughout the night, for them to listen?

I imagine Samuel, a great biblical figure, was not and did not want to listen for God while he was sleeping. In fact, Samuel hears God four times but didn’t actually listen for God until the fourth time. This is because Scripture tells us the Samuel didn’t know the Lord or the Word of the Lord which is why he could hear the voice of God but not recognize it as God. This is only revealed to Samuel after he listens to Eli. Samuel is only able to listen to God after he listens to Eli.

Samuel was able to hear God but not listen. That is, until Samuel listened to another…

When was the last time you listened for God in another? When was the last time you recognized the conversation happening between you two was also with God? And when was the last time that during a conversation in which you didn’t like what you were hearing, you listened even more intentionally for how God was at work by listening intentionally to the person you were conversing with, even if you disagreed with them?

Adele Ahlberg Calhoun, author of Spiritual Disciplines Handbook, writes, “Developing an ear that recognizes God’s voice and that listens to your life opens up the possibility of hearing God through anyone or anything. Practice listening to God and you will develop a heart tuned to pitch and timbre of God’s word to you.”

Developing an ear that recognizes God’s voice takes practice from all of us. But with practice, a greater chance to not only hear God’s voice but to listen to God’s voice is possible.

I think it starts with how we practice our listening skills with other people as a way to honor them, as a way to honor the image of God within them.

And yes, sometimes listening as a means to honor someone may mean listening while disagreeing, while being upset, while being passionate, and while worrying if the conversation that is happening is actually God’s work happening right in front of us. And I believe, most of the time, it is exactly that.

What if the next time we are in a conversation with someone, whether in-person, email, or social media, we tried to model how God listens to us?

Think about it. I think most of us in the room have an active prayer life, or at least hopefully we did this week as that was the topic of last week’s worship services. In prayer, we call out to God for guidance, direction, protection, and answers. Sometimes we demand for God to do something, to give us a sign, or to show us the way. And God just continues to listen. Not ignore; not dismiss; not shut us down. The Almighty keeps listening.

And while listening, God is not taking a break or doing nothing. We trust that God is at work in the listening because true authentic, intentional listening engages the heart. God listens to us so intentionally and deeply because our very lives are a part of God’s story.

What if we listened to each other like that? That we listened to each other so intentionally and deeply that their lives become a part of us. That their story becomes a part of our story. How much more present would God be in our community if we all listened to each other’s stories so intentionally and deeply that it all became one story?

And I get it. At times all of us have experienced moments where we feel like we’re not being heard. What if our response to that was to listen more? What if we all took the vow to listen more, to one another and to God?

And again, “listening” is not synonymous with “agreeing with me” or “doing what I say.”

Listening is hearing something beyond just words or noise. Listening is gift of being fully present with one another and with God. Listening is rejoicing in presence.

Henri Nouwen wrote a beautiful book in the form of a letter to a friend, The Life of the Beloved, describing the ways all of us are beloved by God. Nouwen compares hearing God’s voice to discovering a well in the desert: “Every time you listen with great attentiveness to the voice that call you the Beloved, you will discover within yourself a desire to hear that voice longer and more deeply. It is like discovering a well in the desert. Once you have touched wet ground, you want to dig deeper.”

That’s the community we are called to be. A community that loves each other so much that listening to each other is not something we do out of necessity but because we desire to hear each other longer and more deeply. A community that just wants to listen more because we recognize being present with each other and with God is a gift like a well in the desert.

Let’s dig deeper.

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

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Wesley, Frank, 1923-2002. The Call to Samuel, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59172 [retrieved March 21, 2022]. Original source: Contact the Vanderbilt Divinity Library for further information.

 

Baptize: Dying and Rising with Christ

 “Baptize: Dying and Rising with Christ” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on January 30, 2022. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 19:35.

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Romans 6:3-11

3 Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.

5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6 We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. 7 For whoever has died is freed from sin. 8 But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. 9 We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. 10 The death he died, he died to sin, once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. 11 So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

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As a young child, one of the very first prayers I remember reciting is the traditional version of “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.”

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Amen.

Who remembers this prayer?

This week I thought of this prayer and without thinking much about it, I said these words as I was getting into my bed.

But let me set the scene. Above my bed, almost acting as a headboard, I have displayed three nature landscapes. The left picture features snowy mountains. The right picture features a forest of trees. But the center is a vast body of water.

And so I said those words of that prayer:

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

As I said those words, I rested my head on my pillow and then I looked up. I’m directly beneath this portrait of water, as if I’m submerged beneath its depths, “If I die before I wake…” and I remembered my baptism.

Now, like many of you, I was baptized as a young infant, younger than three months. So when I say, I remembered my baptism, or when we call on each other to remember our baptism, we are not intending to recall the event or moment it happened, but rather, remembering our baptism means we are claiming the promise made to us in our baptism. Remembering our baptism means honoring the name of the Triune God inscribed on our hearts. It means rejoicing in the new life given to us as beloved children of God. Remembering our baptism means sharing that life and joy with others, so they too may know just how loved they are in the eyes of their Creator.

This week, as I laid in bed beneath this body of water, metaphorically submerged in its depths, reciting a prayer about sleep and death, I remembered how loved I am. And although all the details may seem odd, it also just makes sense.

Baptism, like the water it contains, holds these details in a mysterious paradox. Submerging and rising, death and new life.

The last couple of weeks we’ve seen water as life-giving. We must drink it. All of creation consumes it to grow. We use it to wash and clean. Throughout history, people and civilizations have sought out bodies of water to settle nearby. Water itself has served has boundaries and barriers. Water sometimes stands between where we are and where we want to go, so crossing the waters is an act of freedom, especially when crossing that water leads to a well-deserved vacation.

But as much as water is essential for life, health, growth, and enjoyment of humankind, water is also capable of great damage, destruction, and even death. The same water that we seek out can also be a tool of great devastation. Think of tsunamis or hurricanes, flooding or blizzards. Water can bring both life and death, which presents us with the very paradox found in Christian baptism. What does it mean to both die and rise with Christ in baptism?

To understand this, we must go back to the beginning of the Gospels.

Two and three Sundays ago, we read Mark 1:1-11, the story of Jesus being baptized in the Jordan by John the Baptist. Jesus’ baptism truly marks the beginning of Jesus’ ministry according the Gospels. And moments before Jesus ascends into heaven after his death and resurrection, he tells his disciples to go out and baptize others. But Jesus doesn’t ever baptize anyone between his own baptism and ascension, or at least it’s not mentioned in scripture. What makes Jesus’ practice of baptism even more unusual, if baptism is a sign of repentance and a washing away of sin, why did Jesus, who was without sin, need to be baptized?

Understanding why Jesus was baptized and why he tells his followers to do the same to others will help us understand what it means to die with Christ in our baptisms.

When Jesus was baptized, the voice of God reaches out from the heavens claiming Jesus as God’s Beloved Son. The Holy Spirit descends and marks Jesus in this claim from God. Jesus’ baptism is the Triune God working separately and as one, the true definition of the Trinity. It’s a moment of diversity and unity, revelation and mystery, gathering and sending, giving and receiving, dying and rising – all captured in love.

Jesus was baptized so that we might share in his baptism when we are baptized. In the same way, Jesus shared our life when the Word became Flesh and God lived among us as the Incarnate Son. That’s who our God is. A Savior who wanted to share the human experience with us so that we might share the holy heavenly experience with him.

Because when we are baptized, we share in the moment that Jesus experienced in his baptism. The spiritual blessings of Christ’s baptism spill over into our lives in our baptisms. The same Holy Spirit descends and marks us. The same voice from Heaven reaches out and claims us as beloved. The same moment of diversity and unity, revelation and mystery, gathering and sending, giving and receiving, dying and rising – all captured in love – happens to us in our baptism because it happened to Christ in his.

So if we share in Jesus’ baptism and Jesus’ life, it also makes sense we share in his death.

And although Jesus’ death was terrifying and cruel, sharing in his death is another gift given to and for us. Sharing in Christ’s death means sharing in his crucifixion. That crucifixion directly hangs the oppressive powers of sin and death in our own lives. Sharing in Christ’s crucifixion means the very power of death that tries to claim us is uprooted and cut off.

Although we will die one day, it is not to death but to life.

To share in Christ’s death means the story of Easter, his resurrection, is also shared with us. We share in the liberating, life-giving power of God that takes root and grows within us every day as the resurrection is happening right here, right now.

In baptism, dying and rising with Christ is a sign and symbol, but it is more than just a metaphor. Baptism, death, and resurrection were actual events Jesus experienced as part of his humanity. These are moments we too have experienced and will experience: our own baptisms, our own death, and our own promise to new life. And while we haven’t experienced our own death and resurrection yet, we live out the pattern of dying and rising with Christ in our baptisms as we fulfill our calling of Christian discipleship. Every moment of letting go of old burdens or destructive habits as we embrace Christ’s new way of truth and life, when we turn away from violence or hate and instead turn to peace and love, when we confess our sins and receive the promise of forgiveness and grace, and when we reject and resist social evils by breaking down dividing walls and instead build up beloved community in Jesus’ name – that’s the practice of death and resurrection in our own lives every day.

Dying and rising in baptism may seem like a holy mysterious paradox too difficult to grasp, but that’s the Savior we follow. We share in Jesus’s baptism, life, death, and resurrection. We share in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, a leader who calls forth wisdom from foolishness, strength from weakness, abundance from scarcity, and new life from death. This is a God rooted in paradox, but it’s a paradox for our sake.

So today we remember our baptism. We submerge ourselves beneath the baptismal waters to share in the death of Christ. And with a breath of fresh air, we rise to new life, marked by the Holy Spirit and claimed as beloved. This is the Gospel. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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Prepare for Something More

 “Prepare for Something More” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on December 6, 2020. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 35:00.

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Mark 1:1-8

1 The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

2 As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,

    who will prepare your way;

3 the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

    ‘Prepare the way of the Lord,

    make his paths straight,’”

4 John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

--

It’s been a year.

We have been together for one year.

A year ago, on the second Sunday of Advent in 2019, I started at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown as your Pastor for Youth and Faith Formation.

And what a year it has been.

To say I never could have guessed what this year would hold for us would be… an understatement.

This year has been so much more, both joyous and terrible, than any of us could have ever imagined. It has been difficult for all of us. But here we are, one year later, and that feels like an accomplishment, so today, I celebrate this and you and our relationship. I hope you feel like celebrating this too.

Because despite some of the obvious hardships we’ve experienced together over the past year, such as global pandemic, we’ve also experienced more discreet and unspoken hardships.

One of them being is listening to and supporting the call to ministry of a young gay pastor.

And for any of us who want to wave this off and say it’s no big deal… don’t! This is a big deal!

Because when you all called me to be your pastor a year ago, you committed to learning about what it means to care for and be cared for by a queer pastor who’s experience with the church is unlike any of its predecessors.

For example, ten years ago, when I was a freshmen in college, when I was pursuing a degree in finance and not divinity, the idea of someone like me being called a pastor was not only farfetched, it was forbidden. For it wasn’t until a year later that the ordination of LGBTQ+ individuals as Ministers, Elders, and Deacons was no longer prohibited. This doesn’t mean it was fully approved and it definitely wasn’t affirmed; it just was no longer prohibited.

This means for the first twenty years of my life, or the first 2/3rds of my life, the formative years as a child and youth (the very years you’ve entrusted me to form the faith in your very own children in youth), the church made it very clear that was no place for people like me.

That is… until one person made room. And then another made room. And then others and others and others.

I think of The Rev. David Sindt, who during the 1974 General Assembly of the United Presbyterian Church of the USA, stood on the Assembly floor holding a hand-written sign that read, “Is anyone else out there gay?”

I think of any pastor who deviated from the norm, which once upon a time, pastors were exclusively straight white men. Countless women and pastors of color who have opened more doors for people on the margins of our society and the margins of our church. This includes Margaret Towner and every woman pastor that has followed in her place here at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown.

And now First Presbyterian Church of Allentown has a gay pastor and queer members.   

It was the ministry of trailblazers like Sindt and Towner whose actions led pivotal and holy transformations within the church that we so love. But what about those who came before Towner and Sindt? Because I’m sure that there were women who preceded Towner and queer people who preceded Sindt whose actions ended with rejection, ridicule, and pain. We don’t hear about them. We don’t celebrate their accomplishments. Their stories aren’t told today. They garner minimal attention, because they are the forerunners—those who plow the ground, destabilize the terrain, and make ready for change that is to come. They are not The One; they are those who come before The One. But we know it is forerunners who are the ones who pave the way for the rest of us, just as John paved the way for Jesus.

We heard that in our Mark passage. John is preparing the way for Jesus.

This passage is equivalent to the Christmas story as told in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. But here you will find no babe in a manger or a weary young couple. Rather, here in the Gospel of Mark, the Good News of Jesus begins with the introduction of John the Baptist. Clothed in camel’s hair and leather, with a plate of locusts and honey nearby for a later meal, John’s life speaks of One who is to come. And we here that this scene is set in the wilderness.

Most of us would – I would assume – attribute the wilderness as possibly the desert or forests – I’m thinking of Tom Hanks from the movie Castaway – or maybe in the context for John, we’re possibly thinking the wilderness as life outside of human structure and civilization, similar to the Israelites wandering through the wilderness for forty years. Regardless, most of us would assume the wilderness that John was in was dirty, crazy, uncomfortable, and daunting – a place that needed to be conquered and defeated.

However, theologian Delores Williams offers a different version of the wilderness, one rooted in the experiences of enslaved persons and that remains present in the traditions of many American Black churches. Rather than a place to be feared, Williams reinterprets wilderness through the lens of the biblical Hagar: wilderness is a place of struggle and Spirit, both problematic and promising. For in the wilderness, Hagar meets God. Hagar’s experiences become symbolic of the African American experience of wilderness as both sacred and struggle-ridden. “For African American slaves,” writes Williams, “the wilderness did not bear the negative connotations that mainline white pioneer culture assigned to it.” Further, “The wilderness was a positive place conducive to uplifting the spirit and to strengthening religious life.”

The symbolic wilderness Williams describes reminds us to remember those who came before us and navigated the difficult terrain, preparing the way for generations to come. Forerunners. Perhaps understanding wilderness as a space where faith is cultivated and strengthened illuminates why “all the people of Jerusalem” went to John in the wilderness (1:5). They were drawn to a man on the margins with a message. And that message would lead them to Christ, who also was a figure on the margins with a message.

A few months ago, Stephen and I in our conversation sermon talked about liminal spaces and moments of liminality. A space and moment we are as a congregation are currently in… and in that sermon, we compared it to us wandering through the wilderness. Jan has also reminded us than we are in this moment of great transition; this wilderness.

But what if this wilderness we are in is more than just dirty, crazy, uncomfortable, and daunting but rather a space and time – a moment – in which we can find the sacred in our struggle? And what if the wilderness any of us experience as individuals is more than just a place that needs to be conquered and defeated but rather a space that is necessary for our faith to be strengthened by the Spirit’s intercession?  And what if the wilderness we are in right now is not a time in which we feel so isolated and alone but rather a time that we are called to remember that there has been and always will be a communion of saints – forerunners who have paved the way – that we too are now a part of? What if the invitation to wilderness is a call to prepare for something more? What if wilderness is not death to the church but rather a gateway to the resurrection?

Back to John – many of us know that the lives of Jesus and John ran parallel, up to John’s execution preceding Jesus’ execution. This reminds us that the journey of forerunners is not without risk and consequence. Margaret Towner was never recognized as a pastor or allowed to preach here at FPCA and David Sindt was never allowed to serve another church as a pastor after he came out as gay.  Like John -- Towner, Sindt, and so many other unknown and unsung forerunners were ridiculed and denied for what they believed was right; what God was doing in their lives. In the same way that John called early believers to repentance and suffered for his message, forerunners like Towner and Sindt called communities to equity and just practices and suffered for their message. Even today, those who dare to defy the status quo and speak truth to power, even naming what can be before it is realized, experience threat, peril, and endangerment. Yet with fortitude, forerunners persevere.

What is interesting and curious about the Gospel of Mark is the way that it starts in verse 1 of chapter 1 that we heard today: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” – “The beginning.” The Gospel of Mark makes it clear that Jesus’ story is just the beginning of the Good News of God coming to us, because according to Mark, that story has not come to an end. It is continued into the life of communities of faith today.

And that brings us to us, here in the right now, a congregation in the wilderness made up of individuals who for whatever reasons are also experiencing our own versions of wilderness.  And it may seem daunting… but we must remember the good news of Christ also continues in our story. This is an opportunity for us to prepare the way of the Lord in new way built upon the foundation of the forerunners who prepared the way of the Lord for us. This day in Advent – may we all pause in gratitude for the sacrifices and the ministry forerunners have done in the wilderness for us. And may we gather their strength with our strength and continue to plow the ground, destabilize the terrain, and make ready for change that is to come. Because every Advent we remember it is the One – The Word Made Flesh -  who will come.

Thanks be to God. Amen. 

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Barry Smith, Rev. Beth Brown, and Rev. Janie Spahr in 2014 holding up the David Sindt Collage that was created by Barry Smith. The collage is housed in the archives of Lincoln Park Presbyterian Church in Chicago. Photograph courtesy of Barry Smith.

Read more on the ministry and life of David Sindt in this article. 

 

 

 

The Shepherd's Hope

 “The Shepherd’s Hope” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Allentown, PA on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2021. Several leaders of the church told stories of hope through the perspective of those at the birth of Christ: Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds. You can hear/watch this sermon here, starting at 45:38.

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Luke 2:8-14

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!”

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You want to hear my story of hope?

A few years ago, I would have felt my story wasn’t worth sharing.

I am a shepherd.

And before you look down on me or feel bad for me or want to pray for me…

Don’t.

I’ve been a shepherd my whole life. I was born to be a shepherd; I didn’t choose it. This is the way your God – my God – made me to be.

Yes, when I was younger, this is not always how I wanted my life to be. I thought it was unfair. I had dreams of something else. Maybe being a king or having lots of wealth. I dreamed of being powerful. I dreamed of people looking at me and me leading them. Oh, I dreamed a lot. I prayed a lot.

But somewhere along the way, my dreams shifted. I started dreaming of my life as a shepherd, a wanderer and a nomad, alongside my crazy and wild, loving family. These dreams became my reality. And my reality became my joy.

So you don’t you feel sorry for me. I like being a shepherd.

Maybe I’m not wealthy or powerful or even respected… but this is the life for me… and I’m happy.

Or I thought I was. No, I am. I am happy. I worked really hard to be happy with my life as a shepherd. But something was missing. I didn’t know it at the time. I was happy but I could be happier. Sorry, I’m messing this up. I’m a shepherd; not a preacher. I was happy but I wasn’t complete. You know what I mean?

I didn’t know there was more for my life until one night.

On a regular eve, as I was out with my people doing our thing, watching our flocks by night, the brightest light appeared in the sky. I heard a scream. I honestly didn’t know if it was me or a buddy of mine. And then a loud voice towered over us.

“Do not be afraid!” – Yeah, right! I’m shaking at this point.

“I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger’”

A sign? A child? A manger?

Then, the light shined even brighter and I heard a multitude of voices and song and laughter and and and… I heard hope.

I heard hope.

And I look over, and I see my friends and they see me, and we don’t even have to say anything. We smile and we just start walking. We have to find this child.

Because that’s the something more that was missing.

And your God – my God – sorry, our God – wanted someone like me – a shepherd – to welcome this child into our world. And by sharing my story of hope with you, I know God wants you to be there too.

You ready? Let’s go!

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Swanson, John August. Shepherds, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=58575 [retrieved January 3, 2022]. Original source: www.JohnAugustSwanson.com - copyright 1985 by John August Swanson.