Seeing our Blindness

March 30^th, 2014       “Seeing our Blindness”    Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 9:1-41

          Our texts for this Lenten season are rich with story.  We began with the temptation of Christ in the wilderness and then we encountered Nicodemus the wonderer who came to Jesus at night.  Last week we thought together about the woman at the well and her experience of Jesus as living water.  And this week we have another powerful story; the healing of a man born blind.

          Our story begins simply enough; Jesus is walking along the road with his disciples when they spy a blind man.  The disciples are not interested in helping or healing the man, they simply want to ask a theological question.  “Who sinned?” they wonder.  Is it this man’s fault he was born blind or does the blame belong with his parents?  Jesus shoves that question aside, saying instead that this is an opportunity to show the glory of God.  The man has not asked to be healed and yet, much in the manner of other healers in his day, Jesus spits on the ground to make a concoction of mud which he spreads upon the poor man’s face.  Jesus then sends the man to wash off the mud and gain his sight.

          The man follows Jesus’ instruction and miraculously he is now able to see.  This should be an occasion for joy and celebration, but that couldn’t be farther from what happens.  The man returns to his community and the people are dumbfounded.  Surely this cannot be the same man they say.  Some even argue that he is literally someone else.  It as if throughout his life they only saw his blindness and never really saw him.  Now that he is no longer blind they don’t recognize him anymore.  Finally the townspeople ask him how it is that he can see and he tells them what Jesus has done for him.  Unable to locate Jesus to confirm the miracle, the townsfolk bring the man to the Pharisees.

          The man is hauled out before the council of Pharisees and now we find out that this healing has occurred on the Sabbath.  The Pharisees ask how the blind man was healed and he again testifies to his encounter with Jesus.  The Pharisees are trapped in a bind.  According to the belief system they follow, one mustn’t do any work on the Sabbath.  Even to heal someone on the day of rest is prohibited by the laws of God and is an act of sin.  And yet, clearly this man’s sight has been restored and only someone who is from God could perform such an act.  As a ruling community they are divided.  Is this an act of God or the trick of a sinner?  Again they question the once blind man who now says that Jesus must be a prophet.

          The Pharisees feel like they don’t have enough information to make a decision so now they call in the blind man’s parents.  “Is this your son,” they ask “how is that he can see now?”  The parents of the blind man are savvy, and they know that to proclaim faith in Jesus means they will be kicked out of the church community.  “He’s an adult, ask him yourself” they say. 

          So the Pharisees again call the blind man before them, demanding that he admit that Jesus is a sinner for healing on the Sabbath.  Understandably the blind man is now annoyed.  He responds to their requests with questions and jibes, “perhaps the Pharisees want to know so much so they can be disciples of this man Jesus as well” he wonders aloud.  Finally he resorts to logic, “No one can open the eyes of the blind except one from God, so clearly this man was from God.”  Frustrated the Pharisees reply, “You were born in sin blind man and now you are trying to teach us?” and they kick him out of the worshipping community.

          Alone and rejected on what should have been the happiest day of his life, the blind man once again encounters Jesus.  Jesus asks him if he knows the Son of Man and eager for truth the blind man urges him to show him such a person.  Jesus declares that he is the one and the blind man immediately falls down to worship.  Jesus then gives the punch line to the story, for while the man can now see, his healing has highlighted the blindness of others.  Pharisees standing nearby ask Jesus about this and he makes it clear that they, in their treatment of the blind man, are the ones who remain blind and trapped in sin.   

          This is a rich story and there are countless themes I could speak on this morning but today I simply want to point out a few things.  First of all, don’t you think it’s strange that when the people talk about why the man is blind they are eager to find the work of God as punishment of sin and yet no one wants to believe that his healing was from God?  The early theme that the disciples bring up runs throughout the story, “who sinned that this man was born blind.”  Everyone wants to find someone to blame.  There has to be someone who is a sinner here and that is why God has made this bad thing happen.  Is the man a sinner, or were his parents?  Is Jesus a sinner or are the Pharisees? 

          So often in our lives when bad things happen we immediately ask why.  “Why God, is this happening to me?  What did I do wrong?”  We sometimes look at other people who suffer and try find reasons in our minds for why they suffer.  “He eats too much, she drinks too much, she parties too hard, he sleeps around, if only they were a better Christian and went to church then God wouldn’t punish them like this.”  Just like the disciples, when we see calamity strike sometimes we are tempted to wonder, “Who sinned?”

          And yet, when blessings occur in people’s lives, we often say it was simply fate rather than attributing the act to God.  Especially when good things happen to people we feel are undeserving.  In Jesus’ day, a man born blind was assumed to be cursed by God; he was an outcast and a sinner.  For a blessing to have happened to such a one, without his even asking or showing faith, was a shock.  It’s no wonder people were upset and confused.  In our own lives, we all know people who seem to receive blessings even though they do not seem to be good people.  How do we respond to this?  Often just like everyone in this story.  “That blessing can’t be from God, it must be something else” we say to ourselves.  And yet, who are we to judge who God will bless and who God won’t?

          Another interesting thing about this story is that Jesus is largely absent.  He appears at the beginning of the story to heal the blind man, but once he sends him off to wash Jesus disappears.  It is not until the very end of the story, when the blind man has been rejected by his community, his family, and his church that Jesus finally reappears.  This whole story is centered on an argument about who Jesus is, and while people argue, Jesus is nowhere to be found. 

          Studying this story this week I just couldn’t get over this.  While everyone is busy arguing about who Jesus is, he is absent from their midst.  And yet, when people stop arguing, and are willing to let Jesus show them who he is, suddenly he is on the scene again.  In heated conversations within and between churches, how often do we argue about the person of Christ or what his will might be?  People come to the table with their minds already made up about who Jesus is, and from that position they argue only their point of view.  In this story, the writer of the gospel of John seems to be telling us that when we do this, when we argue about Jesus, then Jesus is not among us.  But when we are ready to listen, when we open ourselves up to the possibility of new thinking and new understanding, then Jesus is there.  When the blind man is willing to listen and learn about the Son of Man, then Jesus appears to teach him.

          The final theme I want to pluck from this rich text is the counter play between blindness and sight.  The story of course, is about physical blindness, but the writer of the gospel makes it clear that this story is about spiritual blindness as well.  At the beginning of the story, the blind man is healed, not because of faith but simply as a work of God.  Upon his healing, the man has no sudden faith response; he simply states that the man called Jesus is the one who healed him.  But as he tells his story, the blind man begins to see more and more just who Jesus is.  In his encounter with the Pharisees the man then claims that Jesus is a prophet and finally that Jesus is clearly a man of God.  It is through sharing his story with others, testifying to his experience with Christ, that the blind man’s eyes are opened spiritually.  His faith has grown so much that in his final encounter, when he finds Jesus to be the Son of Man, he falls to the ground to worship him.

          By contrast, the other characters in the story, though they can physically see, remain in a state of spiritual blindness.  The townspeople can’t believe that such a man was healed and so they refuse to seek out the Christ.  The blind man’s parents are so afraid of being cast out of their church community that they too refuse to seek out the one who has healed their son.  And the Pharisees, so convinced of their righteousness in the law, cannot see that one from God might heal on the Sabbath.  As they continue to argue with the blind man they continue to delve deeper into a spiritual blindness, such that they finally drive him out of their own church community. 

          At the end of the narrative, Jesus says that he “came into this world so that those who do not see may see, and those who do see may become blind.”  This is a great example of the often cryptic sayings of Jesus that appear in the gospel of John.  And yet, as we examine the story, we can get a sense of what Jesus is talking about.  He has come into the world to open our eyes about who God is.  If we are not willing to open our eyes, then Jesus has come to show us just how blind we are.  Every time we feel we have the single right understanding of who Jesus is, we would be wise to remember this story.

          As a worshipping community we are now halfway through our journey of Lent.  This has been a time for us to wonder together about who God is and who we are in relationship to God.  This morning’s lesson calls us to once again examine ourselves.  Are we too quick to judge who around us is worthy of God’s blessing and who is not?  Are we so busy arguing about who Jesus is that we have driven him from our midst?  Are we so sure that we have a handle on what Christ came to do, that we are blinded to the real Christ standing before us?  Our story this morning reminds us that Christ can be found only among those who are willing to open their eyes to his presence.  As we continue our journey to the cross, may we be willing to see the person of Christ in a new light each and every day.  Amen. 

Living Water

March 23^rd, 2014         “Living Water”      Rev. Heather Jepsen

Exodus 17:1-7 and John 4:5-42

          This morning we have two wonderfully contrasting texts.  I imagine that those who choose the lectionary readings put these two together because they are both about water.  But the people in these stories could hardly be more opposite to each other.  It is a really fun pairing.

          We start with Exodus.  This story takes place fairly early in the narrative of the wanderings of the people of Israel.  They have crossed the Red Sea and traveled out into the desert.  God has fed them with manna and quail from heaven, and yet the people want more.

          The people stop for the night and camp at Rephidim and the writer of Exodus tells us that there is no water for the people.  When they left Egypt, the writer says that there were about 600,000 men plus their wives and children.  So, if they stop to rest, that is a pretty big camp.  Now I’m going to go out on a limb here, but it doesn’t seem smart to stop somewhere where there isn’t any water.

          I don’t think it should come as a surprise that the people start to complain.  The come to Moses and quarrel with him saying “Give us water to drink.”  It’s early in the journey and already Moses is tired of being the leader.  “Why do you quarrel with me?” he asks, “Why are you testing God?” 

          You can tell Moses is still early in his ministry because that is not a very good response to an angry crowd.  Naturally the people begin to grumble and groan.  “What the heck is this?” they ask, and I would imagine they used a few minor Hebraic curse words.  “Did God bring us out into the desert to die?”  Modern readers assume the Israelites are over-reacting but I don’t think so.  If a crowd of 600,000+ people are without water for long, people really will die.

          Like many a pastor before him and since, Moses turns to God for help “What shall I do with this people?” he asks.  God decides to relent and gives Moses permission to strike a rock with his magic staff and water will flow out for the people.  Moses does as he is told and the people are satisfied.  In honor of their good time there, Moses renames the camp Test and Fight. 

The people aren’t the only ones in a bad mood here; for it seems like God is feeling a bit sour as well.  When we read further on in the narrative of Israel we find out that somehow in this moment Moses is sinning and what happened at camp Test and Fight is the reason he himself won’t get to enter the Promised Land.  To be honest, it seems like a bum deal to me.

          Our story in the gospel of John is also about water, thirst, and the promises of God.  This time Jesus is the one who is thirsty.  He stops at a well in a Samaritan city and runs into a woman who has come to gather water. 

          While we can take this story at face value, there are a lot of undercurrents running through it.  Samaritans and Jews do not get along well.  They come from a similar background but they have differing opinions about proper religious practice.  This Samaritan woman would have been a real outsider to Jesus’ culture religiously, socially, politically, and she’s a woman.  It is even implied that she is an outcast in town since she is coming to fill her water jug at noon rather than in the morning when the well would be the center of the social scene.  All this is to say that Jesus is crossing some real boundaries when he engages her in conversation.

          He asks her for a drink and I can just imagine her reply, basically a “Are you talkin’ to me?!?”  Lots of commenters imagine a humble, shamed woman but not me.  When I read this I hear a sassy, feisty, lady kind of like my friend Sonja.  When Jesus says “Give me a drink” she talks back “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”  Jesus replies in typical gospel of John fashion with a bit of over the top God language.  “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, “Give me a drink,” you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”  Her reply, “Man you don’t even have a bucket!”

          The go back and forth with word play.  She keeps trying to draw him into a discussion of religion and politics and he keeps trying to show her that there is a lot more to life than the silly details.  Finally she is won over, and Jesus makes his first “I am” statement in the gospel of John.  She runs off to tell others, not entirely convinced herself but certainly curious, maybe this really is the Messiah.

          In these two stories I find two different approaches to the divine.  In Exodus, the people are kind of avoiding God.  They are upset, uncomfortable, unhappy and they are complaining.  Modern readers think, aren’t they glad they are out of Egypt?   But it doesn’t take much to imagine that they have left behind homes, family, and friends.  Life is changing, and even when change is good it is hard.  Plus, they are wandering in the desert and there is no water.  Their problems are real problems. 

          Rather than engage God directly, in prayer or petition, the people complain amongst themselves.  “Man this stinks!” they say and they grumble and they gripe.  They ask, “Is the Lord among us or not?”  From the reader’s vantage point we cry, of course God is there, you have manna from heaven.  But they are so caught up in the pain of their circumstances that they cannot sense the presence of God. 

          How often does this describe us?  I see people in that place all the time; so caught up in the pain and discomfort of their current circumstance that they cannot sense the presence of God.  Yes, God is there, God is with them, but they are hurting so bad that they can’t see it.

          In John, the Samaritan woman that Jesus meets at the well is also caught up in unpleasant circumstances.  She has had five husbands and the man she is currently living with is not her husband.  This would have been a shameful situation for her and we must remember from other discussions we have had about the marriage culture at this time that marriage and divorce were out of the hands of women.  Her circumstances were most likely beyond her control.  As an aside, it really irks me how many modern commentators continue to shame this woman when they know full well she could not be at fault.  Woman = sin!  Anyway, thankfully, Jesus doesn’t see that, and doesn’t call her a sinner though folks like to put those words in his mouth.

          Regardless, she too comes from painful circumstances, but rather than hanging her head and grumbling, she engages God directly.  She is sassy with Jesus.  She asks questions, she wants to know more, she wants to engage with her faith.  That is her response to pain, to look into the face of God and ask why?  She is seeking knowledge.

          I see people it that circumstance too.  People who have lived lives of pain and hardship, where things seem to never work out, and rather than ask where God is, these folks are constantly engaged with God.  They don’t doubt the presence of the divine, rather they, like Jacob continue to wrestle uncomfortably with God.

          The wonderful thing about both of these types of people, those who engage God with their pain and those who are so blinded by pain that they can’t see God, both of these groups of people get living water.  In both of these stories, the people receive living water, that which is necessary for life, from God.

          In Exodus, even though the people complain and even though God is grumpy, God is there and God does provide for them what they need.  In John, the woman engages with God through Christ, is renewed, and through her own struggle brings others to faith.  Her honest and open questioning draws others to the well of life. 

          I find comfort for all of us on our journeys here.  No matter what type of person we are, no matter our life circumstances, God provides living water for us.  Whether we know it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not, our God provides for us what we need.  Even when we don’t deserve it.  Such is the love of God, to be constantly gracing us with living water.

So praise God for the times when we can be like the Samaritan woman, engaging God directly and drawing others toward living water.  And thanks be to God for the times when we are like the Israelites, blinded by pain and unable to see God, and yet God offers us living waters all the same.  What fabulous generosity!  Amen.

         

And I Was Born Again

March 16^th, 2014          “And I Was Born Again”      Rev. Heather Jepsen

John 3:1-21

          We will spend the season of Lent in the gospel of John, reading stories of Jesus’ encounters with the interesting and complex characters of his day.  Like those he meets, the Jesus of John’s gospel is also interesting and complex.  More God than man, he shows great knowledge and control, often turning from the scene he is playing and looking directly at the reader of the gospel to preach his message. 

          Nicodemus is a wonderful character, drawn to Jesus and yet afraid.  He stays on the margins throughout the gospel, never fully committing to following Jesus into the light.  I think this is the experience of many of us.  We live our faith lives on the margins and in the shadows.  Sometimes we are fully invested in church but keep it a compartmentalized part of our life.  We are there most Sundays but we would never tell anyone else about why we go or what we find there.  Sometimes we are on the margins even here in worship.  We come every few months and sit on the edges.  Like Nicodemus, we are hesitant to even dip our toes into the waters of faith. 

          The wonderful thing about the grace and love of God is that we are constantly being called forward.  We are constantly being born again into new lives of faith, into new levels of gestation.  Over and over we are born again, born anew, from above, in water and the spirit, and it is wonderful and it is beautiful and it is holy.  I know that this is true because it happened to me . . .

          I did not grow up in the church.  Unlike my children and their blossoming understanding of God and faith, talk of the divine was totally foreign to my early life experience.  At the age of 12, when a young girl’s life is already full of drama and change, is when my mother first took me to the local Presbyterian Church.  To say that I was surly and slow to warm up to the idea would be an understatement.  But, being a good girl who always does what she’s told, I went through confirmation class and was baptized at the age of 13.  And I was born again.

          Fast forward into my high school years and that awkward pre-teen evolved into an even more awkward and surly teenager.  Constantly in overalls and bright red Doc Marten boots, an adventurous look even in the 90s, it didn’t take me long to reject the church and the faith.  I was smart enough to understand sermons and talk about love, but not foolish enough to turn a blind eye to the hate and hypocrisy I saw in church goers.  I rightly named it folly.  And I was born again.

          I went to college, studied music, made my way a young woman in the world.  I read about Buddhism and dharma, the Tao Te Ching and Bahagavad Gita, basically anything that wasn’t Christianity.  I soundly rejected all talk of church and Jesus.  And then in an avalanche of circumstances that were anything but, I found myself at the bedside of my Grandmother as she was dying.  Strangely, this awkward overly dramatic young woman, who believed in nothing but dirt and worms at death, was the only confident and comfortable person in the room.  I held her hand, I talked to her, I rejoiced in her transition, her clear process of journeying to a new life and world.  And I was born again.

          I wrestled with that most uncharacteristic experience, and wondered what it was that had drawn such behavior out of me.  I fought and fought, I analyzed, and discussed, and above all I wondered.  Who was I?  What was the world?  What if all those dumb stories about God were true?  And finally, I prayed.  My humbled heart was met with what I can only call a multi-sensory experience of the divine.  Like Moses at the burning bush, I saw things, I heard things, I felt things, and I was changed.  God planted in my heart in that moment the deep, deep knowledge that I was created to be a pastor.  And I was born again.

          I wrestled and fought.  I sought out faith and rejected church after church.  I found a Presbyterian place to call home.  I finished my Bachelor’s degree and hung out for a while.  I applied to seminary and turned acceptance offers down.  I drug my feet and cried.  I preached my first sermon and cried.  And I was born again.

          I finally found my place in San Francisco, and I continued to fight.  I took up drinking as a hobby and did everything I could to seem un-pastor like.  I was only 23 and not ready to be an example for anyone, let alone for everyone.  I got a tattoo and died my hair, and partied every day until I was broken and sad and tired.  Like the Jesus character says in the movie The Last Temptation of Christ - I felt like God was an eagle digging his talons into my back.  I hated God, I hated my call, I hated my life.  Finally I shook my fist in rage at the divine and let it go.  And the great love of God absorbed all my pain and anger and disappointment and denial.  And I was born again.

          I got married, I finished school, I took my first job, and it was everything I feared it would be.  I had supporters and friends but for the most part, the church didn’t like me and the church didn’t want me.  First of all I was a woman.  And I was smart.  And I didn’t know my place.  And I was honest about what I thought and believed.  And I came to understand that the call was everything I had feared it would be.  That just like Jesus, I would be strung up and crucified because the people love darkness and hate the light.  And I prayed that God would call me away.  But God did not.  And I was born again.

          I had babies there, and there is nothing a female pastor can do that is worse than having a baby.  Like any good church, there were wonderful people there who showered me with love.  But when I returned from my first maternity leave is when I had the biggest fight, the biggest split.  Secret session meetings and big donors leaving were the signs of the end times.  It was Armageddon and I felt responsible.  And again I cried and prayed for God to call me away.  But God did not.  And I was born again.

          Eventually the money ran out, and the Presbytery minimum pastor’s salary was the biggest chunk of the budget, and all the facts were there so that that finally was the call to go.  I wrote my paperwork and I talked to churches and I got this strange recommendation for a place in Missouri (where is Missouri?) and the paperwork printed off the computer and I sat in a sunbeam in my office in Washington and read about First Presbyterian Church in Warrensburg.  And I was born again.

          I came here and met the PNC and we had some great dinners at Lucille’s house and talked about past heartaches and dreams for the church.  And I was born again.

          I came here to finally preach (on the gospel of John) and meet you and blow balloons with Amber and Anna for a children’s sermon and we said yes to each other and ate some cake.  And I was born again.

          I put my harp in a box, moved my family across the country, and prayed I would sell my house, (which I haven’t).  And I was born again.

          That’s my life, in the light: a wife and mother, an awkward girl, a soul on a journey with God.  For some odd reason this is my path: to not be like Nicodemus, hiding on the edges in the shadow, even though that is the person I may want to be.  Instead God called me to be this person, standing in the literal spotlight, telling the truth about who I am, who God is, and the world as I see it.  Like you, I was chosen to be born again, and again, and again; into faith, into hope, into love.  I believe that this is what Jesus was talking about.  That we would come to the light, and that we would be born from above, of water and the spirit.  We can’t explain it, but we know it is true. 

          That’s my story and you have yours.  And I believe that all of our lives are holy.  All of our lives are journeys of faith; even if we only ever dip our toes in the water.  God is dancing with us, molding us, changing us, calling us further along the path, always.  And then we are born again.  Amen.

Facing Temptation

March 9^th, 2014     “Facing Temptation”     Rev. Heather Jepsen

Matthew 4:1-11

          Today we begin our journey through Lent; a journey which will eventually lead us to Easter, but not until we go to the cross.  Lent is a time of self-reflection.  It is a time to face who we really are, deep in our hearts; and so it is fitting to begin this first Sunday with a discussion of temptation. 

          Our gospel reading is Matthew’s version of Jesus’ temptation.  Right after his baptism, Jesus is led by the Spirit out into the wilderness.  You or I might think of a time out in the wilderness as a time of rest and recreation, but in the scriptures, the wilderness is synonymous with suffering.  The wilderness is a place of wandering and loneliness; it is a place of doubts, questions, and struggles.

          After fasting for forty days and nights, much like Moses atop Mount Sinai, Jesus is visited by the devil who tests him with three temptations.  The first temptation is simple.  Jesus is hungry, famished as the text says, and the devil tempts him to change stones into bread.  The root of this temptation is the human desire for materialism.  Jesus is tempted to use his power for himself, rather than trusting in God to fulfill his needs.  But Jesus refuses to do so, pointing out that one lives not only by bread but by the word of God.  Jesus will trust in God to provide for him, rather than his own powers and abilities.

          The devil then takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple and tells him to throw himself down.  The devil quotes scripture to make his point; surely God will not let his son perish.  The temptation here is for security.  Jesus is tempted to use his power to make himself secure, rather than to trust in God to keep him safe.  Jesus replies to the devil that one mustn’t put God to the test.

          For the third temptation, the devil shows Jesus the kingdoms of the world, offering them to Jesus if he will but bow his knee.  The temptation here is for prestige and power.  But once again Jesus will not use his own powers to make himself powerful in humanity’s eyes, or to earn himself esteem.  Instead he sends the devil away declaring that one should worship God alone.

          At first glance the temptations of Christ seem very foreign to our experience.  But when we examine them closely we find that they actually hit pretty close to home.  Who among us is not tempted by materialism, security, and prestige at some time in our lives?  These concerns surround us everyday.

          I need hardly tell you about our culture’s drive toward materialism.  The answer to every problem in our society is to just buy something.  Feeling bad about yourself?  Buy some new clothes.  Hungry for more than just food?  Spend your money on toys.  Life got you down?  Time for a tropical vacation.  There is no problem in our world that cannot be solved somehow by spending money.  We spend tons of money trying to make ourselves feel good.  And we end up amassing giant piles of stuff, from our big kid toys, to more food than we can eat; we surround ourselves with more than we need.  This little temptation, to spend our money, seems innocent on the surface.  But deep at its core, we find that this materialism is about a lack of trust.  We don’t really trust in God to provide for us, and so we use our own power and money to provide for ourselves the things we think we need.

          The second temptation, for security, is at play in all of our lives as well.  Humans are vulnerable creatures.  In our hearts we all want to feel safe and secure, be it in our physical state or in our emotional state.  And so we build bigger houses because they make us feel good and safe.  We long to have our own space, where we control everything.  In our homes we are gods of our own little worlds.  This is my kingdom and I am the king we think. 

Emotionally, we hide ourselves from each other.  We don’t like to reveal our true feelings about things because we don’t want to get hurt.  And so we shy away from direct conversations and deep relationships.  It’s too much trouble to talk to the person I’m really mad at, so I’ll complain to someone else instead.  Throughout the day we are tempted by little things that turn our focus onto ourselves instead of God.  We want to secure things by our own power, rather than trusting in God to keep us secure.

          The third temptation, for power and prestige, is everywhere.  Our whole society feeds on who is in the spotlight for the moment.  All we talk about is who said what at the Oscars, or what famous person is now in rehab.  All it takes to be esteemed in our culture is to be famous.  And so we strive after this goal.  From “American Idol” to “Survivor” people from all walks of life are trying to get into the spotlight.  We are not immune to this even in Warrensburg.  We have our own little circles and we know who is in and who is out.  And deep in our hearts, don’t we all want to be popular?  We are tempted everyday to use our own power to push ourselves into circles of prestige, rather than relying on God to place us there, if it be God’s will.

          The reason that Matthew tells us this story of the temptation of Christ is to show us what kind of person Jesus is.  It is through his experience of temptation that we learn more about the Son of God.  Jesus is not going to take things into his own hands and use his power for himself.  Rather, he is going to trust in God to guide him through life.  When the temptations are over, Jesus is still hungry, still vulnerable, and still without recognition, but what he does have is a certainty about his ability to trust in God alone.

          When we face temptation in our own lives, is when we too find out about who we are.  It is how we recognize and respond to temptation that will define us.  The moment of temptation is our opportunity to define ourselves.  Are we the type of person who will use whatever means available to get what we want, or will we trust in God to provide for us.

          In the wonderful commentary Feasting on the Word, teacher and writer Maryetta Anschutz reminds us of how prevalent temptation is. 

“Temptation comes to us in moments when we look at others and feel insecure about not having enough.  Temptation comes in judgments we make about strangers or friends who make choices we do not understand.  Temptation rules us, making us able to turn away from those in need and to live our lives unaffected by poverty, hunger, and disease.  Temptation rages in moments when we allow our temper to define our lives or when addiction to wealth, power, influence over others, vanity, or an inordinate need to control defines who we are.  Temptation wins when we engage in the justification of little lies, small sins: a racist joke, a questionable business practice for the greater good, a criticism of spouse or partner when he or she is not around.  Temptation wins when we get so caught up in the trappings of life that we lose sight of life itself.  These are the faceless moments of evil that, while mundane, lurk in the recesses of our lives and souls.” 

Now I don’t know about you, but I see myself in more than one place on that list!

          As I said earlier, Lent is a time to examine ourselves.  As we prepare to journey with Christ to the cross, we need to be honest with ourselves about the temptations we face in our life.  We need to look into our hearts, to be honest about what we find there, and to ask God for forgiveness.  That is what coming to the communion table is all about.  It is at the table that we are reminded not only of the suffering of Christ but of the great depth of God’s love and grace.  Of course, we must do the hard work of admitting our failures, before we can receive the forgiveness that God offers.

          This morning, as we examine the temptation of Christ, we are reminded that he really was fully human, just as we are.  The temptations the devil placed before him were very real, and very tempting, just as the temptations that we face each day are.  Matthew tells us this story, so that we will know who our Savior is.  One who faced temptation, and did not give in.  This will give us strength, as we face temptations of our own.  As people of faith, we are called to put our trust in God and Christ.  My prayer for us this day is that we will be honest about the temptations we face, and willing to ask for forgiveness, for only then can we move through this season of Lent, and join our resurrected Lord on Easter morning.  Amen.

Transfiguration Poem

March 2^nd, 2014                           “Transfiguration Poem”               Rev. Heather Jepsen

Exodus 24:12-18 and Matthew 17:1-9

Today the church begins to turn toward Lent
The time of Holy Mystery
And this Sunday before the purple season
Is always Transfiguration History

Stories of mountains and men and God
Of going up and coming down
Of dark and light, fire and cloud
All this can make a pastor frown

What can we say of this strange text
That appears year after year?
While the story is one we know by heart
The meaning’s not entirely clear

We begin today with Moses and God
Up high upon the mount
God calls to Moses, come up and see
I’ve commandments too many to count

For six long days he sits in a cloud
Wondering when God will show
It’s only on the seventh day
That the mountain begins to glow

For forty long days and nights he sits
As God tells his tale to man
Make me a tabernacle he says
Follow this detailed plan

Bible readers are shocked to find
Chapters and details galore
God has everything all planned out
Like a grocery list for the store

The people they wait down below
They quarrel and they fight
What in the world is God doing up there
They ask night after night

And before long the people grow tired of waiting
And build a calf of gold
Go down Moses, God calls in anger
The people are leaving the fold

I can’t help but wonder at this silly God
Spending all his time planning a house
That doesn’t seem like what the people need
As they wait below and grouse

Fast forward several thousand years
And it’s Jesus that we find
Climbing a mount near Jerusalem
With his friends not far behind

Glowing like a super star
They see Jesus dazzling white
Moses and Elijah too
Chatting about their plight

Just like the God of Exodus
Peter is planning a church
Let’s build a house or two or three
A place to stay when in a lurch

No houses this time my poor son
The voice of the Lord booms
We’ve moved beyond those days of old
Jesus’ time is coming soon

Like the early people of Exodus
The disciples cower in fear
But rather than a God of fire and smoke
They experience a God who is near

Jesus reaches out to touch
He says “do not be afraid”
God he lives among us now
Not in some temple that we’ve made

So often when we preach this text
We talk about growth and change
For that is what transfigure means
To no longer be the same

This week when I saw God on two mounts
I wondered could it be
Not that people we have changed
But God, that it was he

The God of Exodus seems so young
He is irritable and often mad
The God of Matthew seems so calm
Much more like a loving dad

Perhaps God thought the tabernacle
Was the way to reach the people
But maybe in the end of things
It’s not all about a steeple

Perhaps as time went on and on
God came to learn and grow
It’s not in buildings that we see our Lord
It’s in a touch we can feel and know

Stories of temples and curtains and gems
Become stories of a man who is God
A God who approaches with a calming presence
Rather than a punishing rod

Perhaps that’s the real transformation here
From distance now to close
A God who touches us in so many ways
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

This too I think can come to be
The story of us all
It’s not about buildings and churches and such
It’s about picking each other up when we fall

We too the church are called to be
Those who touch the world
Not on some mountain with lots of rules
But in the valleys with arms unfurled

That is the call of the followers of Christ
To bring touch and love and grace
For that is the change we see in our God
As the disciples saw him face to face

Transformation, change, and growth
It’s available to us all
Following a God who grows and learns
A God who becomes Emmanuel

Let us reach out hands and touch everyone
Let us say “be not afraid”
We are more than a church or a building plan
When love in our arms is laid

The sanctuary of the church
Is not about steeple or place
It’s about reaching out with the hands of Christ
Embracing the whole human race

From mountain highs to valley lows
People are in for a ride
But with the power of Jesus Christ
We can walk through life side by side

Amen