Youth Moment: Just Like Ketchup...

Have you ever thought much about ketchup?  Go to your fridge and get a bottle out if you can.  What kind of bottle is it?  Is it the squeeze variety?  Do you remember back to the old glass bottle kind?  Yeah.  Squeeze bottles are much easier:  you squeeze, and you get your ketchup.

Lots of adults remember the old glass bottles.  You tip them upside down to get the ketchup....and wait....and wait....and wait....then you try to help things along, maybe by patting the bottle or shaking it, or getting a knife up in there to get it down....and wait some more.....and wait again....and eventually you'll get your ketchup, hopefully before your fries get cold!  

Heinz actually capitalized on this phenomenon of waiting for the ketchup to come out with its advertising slogan, "Good things come to those who wait."  And they do, but it's not just passive waiting.  After all, if you get your ketchup bottle out of the fridge and just set it on the table and wait, you're not going to get any ketchup.  You've got to at least open the bottle and turn it towards your food!  

And sometimes it's the same with wanting to work for justice, or for a better world.  God has given us every good thing in this world, and has equipped us with minds and spirit and skills in order to do good in this world. And God loves us the same, whether we do good things or don't.  However, if we just sit around waiting hoping that good might be done, maybe not all that much good will result.  Sometimes, when folks need our help, we have to do what we can, even when it's only a little bit that we can do, to make the world just a little bit better than it was.  And when we each do what we can to share things like love, hope, joy, and peace in our world, then our world becomes a more, loving, hopeful, joyful, and peaceful place for all people, including us!

The scriptures for today teach us about the importance of being persistent in doing good, even when things are difficult for us.  And even in those times that are difficult, we are reminded that we are not alone, because God is with us, and sends the Holy Spirit to help guide us.  This helps us to follow in Jesus' footsteps as disciples, which is not always an easy task.

Scripture Readings (look them up on biblegateway.com)
Jeremiah 31:27-34; Psalm 119:97-104; 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8

Seriously: Be Annoying for Jesus! (A Children’s Sabbath Sermon)

Jeremiah 31:27-34; Psalm 119:97-104; 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5; Luke 18:1-8

(look these up at bible.oremus.org or biblegateway.com)

Friends, today in the life of the church, we observe the Children’s Sabbath, a time to lift up the needs of children in our churches, communities, and world.  This year, the organizers want us especially to raise awareness of the fact that every half-hour in our country, a child is injured by gun violence.

Click here to see a video on the work of the Children's Defense Fund.

I find that an especially difficult reality--as a pastor, as a parent, just even as a decent human being who wants decent, peaceable childhoods for all children everywhere.

We know how most of it happens, we hear about it in the news, whether it happens at school, on the streets, or in their own homes, whether it’s accidental or intentional.  It is very, very hard news to hear.

And I think when we hear difficult realities like this, it can be really hard to see any hope for things to be any different.  It all seems so overwhelming, doesn’t it?  What can be done to really put a dent in a statistic like this?  Is it all hopeless?

Ah.  And while we’re at it, let’s talk about all these special-themed Sundays we’ve been having as good Presbyterians, to raise our social consciousness, in these past several weeks surrounding the Peacemaking Offering.  It all does get a bit overwhelming, doesn’t it, to hear about domestic violence, human trafficking, global warfare, massive poverty, natural disasters, and so forth.  What are we to do with all of that?  Perhaps also as good Presbyterians, we can call on that first “T” in TULIP, that yes indeed, the world seems totally depraved, and I dunno, does it seem like we really can’t begin to do anything to change a whole wide world gone wrong?

I know, I hear ya.  I feel the same way often enough.  I find myself asking in all of this, sometimes even just getting bogged down in the preaching of it all, wondering, “Where is the hope?  Where’s the joy?  Where’s the peace?  Where’s the love?  And, Where’s the good news?”

And then I go home to my kids.  That’s what I do, when I can’t take another minute of bad news.  

My kids, they’re little.  They don’t know a big bad world out there full of danger, like we too-often do.  They’re joyful.  They are hopeful.  They are loving.  Sometimes they’re even peaceful!  But seeing my kids and spending time with them, is always, good news.

Now, I’ll admit as a parent, sometimes my kids are annoying!  Sometimes they’re hanging off my arm saying mommy, mommy, mommy...But it’s generally for good reasons--like they need food or want to cuddle, or just to know something more about this world we live in, because they are imbued with a spirit of wonder.  Sometimes we’re in the car and they’re pointing out the stars or the cows or the beautiful fall leaves, and I remember, God has created a good and glorious world.

And I think when we do spend time with children, even with their persistent questions, we do ourselves recapture a sense of that wonder in the world--we are encouraged, and see everything around us with new eyes again. I find a great deal of hope and joy in those moments.  These moments are reminders of God’s irresistable grace: grace that has the power to overcome all sin, to work in every heart, to bring healing and wholeness even in the midst of pain and brokenness.

And those moments give me the courage to be persistent in this big world, persistent in seeking justice and peace, persistence in showing love in places love is needed, persistence in doing even just the little bits that I can to make a better world for my kids and the kids around me.  I can’t do it all, but I can do something to make the world a better place, that at least in the spaces around me, people might be able to see hope, joy, peace, love and goodness in this world.

In the Gospel today, the widow doesn’t get justice because the corrupt judge finally becomes un-corrupt and sees the light.  She gets justice because she is persistent.  She annoys the judge into doing justice.  Sure, it’s a partial victory of good over evil, but it still counts!  In the Psalm we hear how persistent study of the Scriptures brings sweetness and wisdom into our lives.  In the letter to Timothy we hear Paul telling to be persistent in everything he learned from childhood, not to let go of it in the midst of so many complicated adult realities in this world.  And in Jeremiah we hear that even in the worst of circumstances, God is still persistent with us, still sowing seeds of peace, love, hope, joy, and goodness.  God will be our God, and we will be God’s people.

So, Presbyterians, I realized here I just did preach a sermon on TULIP, and in case you forgot your confirmation classes, let me put it this way:  Yes, there’s some really bad stuff in the world, and to an extent, some of it’s always going to be bad.  And we can’t fix it all.  But God’s grace and goodness, wherever we might find reminders of it--in spending time with children, or seeing it in each other’s faces, or even in the wonder of creation around us--that gives us what we need to persevere as the saints of God, spreading a message of hope, joy, peace, and love, in a world that so often needs it.  Thanks be to God for the children in our lives, in our churches, in our communities, and in our world.  Let us not give up but persevere, that they may know peace and love, and we might know hope and joy.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

And this next hymn, is full of just such childlike wonder about our world.  I think you’ll enjoy it, it’s called God, the Sculptor of the Mountains.

Prayer Requests:

For children everywhere, that they may live in peace, surrounded by love, filled with hope and joy, and that we may find ways to help them to do so.
For all who work with children, be they parents and grandparents, teachers or childcare providers, that they may have passion and patience in all they do.

An Empty Tomb (Easter 2013)

John 20:1-18; Acts 10:34-43; 1 Corinthians 15:19-26; Psalm 118

Christ has risen.  Christ has risen indeed, Alleluia!

Christ has risen.  Christ has risen indeed, Alleluia!

Christ has risen.  Christ has risen indeed, Alleluia!

The story goes, early, on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary came and saw the stone had been removed from the tomb, so she ran and told Peter and John, that they have taken the Lord and we do not know where they have laid him.

So they begin to run, and they get there, and they see what they see, yep, he’s gone, and they go home.  End of story, right?  He went somewhere, or someone took him at least; nice of them to fold the linens before going.  The end. Or so it seems to the disciples.

But Mary stays behind.  She’s weeping.  It’s not enough.  She looks inside the tomb, still weeping, and sees the angels.  And they ask her, ‘why are you weeping?’  And she says again, “they’ve taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”  

And then suddenly, Jesus himself is standing there, and asks, “woman, why are you weeping?”  And she says, as if to a total stranger, “if you have taken him away, tell me where, and I’ll take him away.”

And Jesus looks at her and says, “Maaary!”

And the lightbulb goes on:  that’s the aha moment!

And then Jesus tells her to go.  He has a job for her to do--to tell the disciples that he is risen, and will ascend to their father and their God.

Do you know why church services are ordered the way they are?  We gather in this place, on the first day of the week, praising God, yet maybe the weight of the week before us is still bothering us. Maybe it seems that everything is still dark.  And we confess our  sins--maybe that God seems far away after everything that’s gone on, and we just don’t know how to be reunited.  And then we hear a proclamation that our sins are forgiven--and we rejoice, right?  There’s that “gloria” thing we do....But maybe we don’t get it, or don’t quite understand, or it just doesn’t seem to be enough. We still feel in the dark. So we hear the scripture lessons and the message.  We lift up our hearts with hymns and recite our creeds--even if they might feel more strange to us than familiar.  We offer our lives and our resources in hopes that they’ll do some good.  We pray, and maybe then we can hear that familiar, personal, comforting voice of God.  But even if we have that ‘AHA!’ moment--there’s a surprise.  We can’t stay here.  We have work to do.  Just when we’ve settled in, it’s time to go back out there into that world, the one that so often weighs us down, and proclaim the good news--that Christ is risen, and my God is your God, and our Father is the loving Father of those other folks as well.  

Every Sunday is a little Easter, a little Resurrection.  Good news!  Right?

It’s alright though, if we don’t get that, whether every Sunday, or any Sunday, or even on Easter Sunday.  After all--even Jesus’ closest friends and best students did not get it.

They didn’t expect the Resurrection.  If anything, they expected grave robbers or Roman soldiers to have taken the body.  

And afterwards--well, things weren’t perfect, even among the disciples; we heard right here in the story about the famous competition between Peter and John--or, as you might have heard: the guy that would become the head of the church--and the disciple whom Jesus loved.  That conflict kept on, even to their own students, who finally wrote down these gospels of Mark and John.

And then Mary, who by tradition we say washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair--she doesn’t even recognize Jesus, and thinks he’s just the gardener.  And yet the one who weeps, becomes the first one to spread the proclamation of joy.

The thing is though, questions and not- understanding, doubts and skepticism, even cynicism are essential to faith; faith is not unquestioning belief.  Grant the disciples their due for being human.  After all, God became human to reach humans.

Paul writes, “If for this life only we have hoped for Christ, we are most of all to be pitied.”  Instead, Christ is raised, and not just him, but us also, that death is not the end, but eternal life.  Reunification.  A healing of wounds and grief.  

Miracles will happen, and we won’t necessarily get it.  We’ll be weeping even in the midst of joy.  We will be transformed in some ways and still entirely too human in other ways.  And God is forgiving.  After all, God knows us, and our limitations.  

So even though the disciples were not perfect, and even though we are not perfect--even if we don’t understand any of this stuff that happened that we celebrate today, or celebrate every Sunday--remember:  Jesus Christ is still risen from the dead.  Jesus Christ still calls us by name--knows us even when we don’t recognize Him, even if we mistake Jesus for a total stranger.  And Resurrection happens, even when we least expect it.  And that is reason for real joy, in spite of ourselves even, on this day, and always.

Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed!  Alleluia!  

Alleluia!

The peace of Christ be with you!  Amen.