Monday, October 28, 2013

Tough Talk about Tithing


October 27th, 2013      “Tough Talk about Tithing”       Rev. Heather Jepsen

2 Chronicles 31:1-10

          As you know, it is Stewardship season here at First Pres.  Small group meetings begin today and if you have neglected to sign up than you had better get moving.  I know it can be boring, but these meetings are a great chance to get together and talk about the work of the church.  Plus, ideas generated in these meetings make a big impact on the next year’s campaign, like these time and talent pledge cards. 

Today we are going to have some tough talk about tithing.  While I fully believe in the words of this sermon, most of this material is not mine.  Rather, I am borrowing this material from a sermon titled “The Top Five Reasons Why I Don’t Tithe Yet”  written by William Carter in this book Speaking of Stewardship.  Being a good preacher I know my limits, and good stewardship sermons are one of them, so look for me to be regularly borrowing materials this time of year.

So, today we are talking about real tithing.  To tell you the truth, members of our congregation have yet to complain to me that I have never preached a sermon on tithing.  Most people around here, myself included, would hear a sermon on tithing as a sermon on torment.  We don’t want anybody to tell us what to do with our money.  It troubles us.  Maybe that is why I have never preached on tithing yet here.  Perhaps that is why I do not tithe. 

          We cannot avoid the topic in the Bible.  Tithing is a practice that appears throughout the pages of scripture.  It is in the Old Testament where we find most of the stories about tithing, and it is often brought up as a teaching or a rule.  For instance, Moses lays down the Law in Leviticus 27:30: “All tithes from the land, whether the seed from the ground or the fruit from the tree, are the Lord’s’.  They are holy (i.e. set apart) for the Lord.”

          Other times the practice occurs in a story, like our first reading about Jacob in Genesis or our second passage for today from 2 Chronicles.  The Chronicles passage is a snapshot from Israel’s family album.  Israel was cleaning its own house, and this story describes the preparation of the people to rededicate the Jerusalem temple by rededicating themselves to the One whom they worshiped: they celebrated the Passover and remembered how God brought them out of slavery.

          Next they reaffirmed what they would not worship.  They pulled down the sacred poles, which were shrines dedicated to the idols in their surrounding culture.  God’s people have a different story from those around them.  They follow a different script.  So the people cleared their heads and hearts.

          Then they appointed servants to remind them that they worship God alone.  The people of God do not belong to the idols who make empty promises that cannot be fulfilled.  So they selected clergy to remind them of God’s claim on their lives.

          Finally they tithed their possessions.  That is, they gave one-tenth of what they owned to support the temple, for the temple is the place where they heard, and responded to, the God they worshiped.  We do not know if the temple had a budget, even though somebody in the institution must have managed its income and expenses.  But we know they went to the temple to find life’s deepest meaning.  Affirming how they belonged to God, the people of Israel gave to the temple a share of everything they had: grain, wine, honey, oil . . . and money.

          There is no shortage of Bible stories about tithing.  Yet to tell you the truth, I do not tithe.  I need to do a little spiritual house cleaning of my own.  In that spirit, and with the hope that others will have a chance to work through their own excuses, let me list the top five reasons why I don’t tithe yet.

          Number five: I don’t tithe yet because the church has not talked about tithing very much.

          I realize I blame the church rather than myself.  That can be a cop-out but when was the last time any of us heard a sermon about tithing?  When was the last time you walked in here and heard a Presbyterian talking about making a tithe?  Usually we talk about giving in general and never say anything specific.  Or we talk about supporting a church budget, as if that were the only thing that mattered.  That is not the case in other churches.  Go to an Assembly of God church or the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, for instance, and you will hear that tithing is the standard expectation of every church member. 

          The practice of tithing can become legalistic and lifeless, as we know.  Nevertheless the expectation is clear in other communities, and everybody knows it.  Presbyterians don’t talk about tithing very much.  Perhaps the topic strikes a little too close to home.  Statistics reveal the average Presbyterian makes more money than the average member of any other denomination (except Episcopalians).  Yet, on the average we give only two or three percent of our income to the church.  In our affluence, we have softened the historic demands of our faith.  Whether we talk about tithing or not, the scriptural demand is still present.

          Number four: I do not tithe yet because I am stuck on the idea that giving ought to be useful.

          Did you notice what the people gave in that story from 2 Chronicles?  Grain, wine, honey, oil and money.  Also, the produce of the field, cattle, and sheep.  When they gave these possessions, they piled them up in heaps!  For four months, says the writer, they piled up everything.  Just imagine the smell of the sheep alone!  That doesn’t seem useful; if anything, it sounds downright wasteful.  What will the temple do with all that stuff?  As Judas Iscariot said, “Couldn’t we sell these things and give the money to the poor?”  At least that would be useful.

          I heard a story once about a group of ministers from various denominations who gathered to talk about stewardship.  While they met, something unforgettable happened.  A conference speaker was talking about generosity.  To prove his point, he pulled a one-hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and said, “Lord, I love you more than anything else.  To prove it, I’m going to offer this money to you.”  He then put the one-hundred-dollar bill in an ashtray and set it on fire.  A number of underpaid ministers sat in stunned silence, their hands gripping their chairs as that little green piece of paper burned up.  I am certain a few of them were thinking, “If he has a hundred bucks to waste as a burnt sacrifice, why doesn’t he give it to me?”  Then the glimmer of understanding began to dawn on the group: the speaker really was giving his money to God.

          Some of those present found it disturbing because it was not useful, much in the same way that singing a hymn is not useful.  We expend a lot of breath when we sing, and we do it because we love the One we are singing about.  And we are likewise called to give our money because we love the One to whom we offer it.  True generosity cannot be reduced to a matter of being useful.

          Number three: I do not tithe yet because I keep forgetting that my entire life is a gift from God.

          I don’t know if you have ever gotten forgetful like this, but it can happen.  If I am honest, I admit that I think some things in my life come from God, and everything else is earned by my own efforts.  The story from 2 Chronicles pushes us farther.  It will not let us think merely about money.  It pushes us to reflect on our entire lives.  The people brought their crops and gave a tenth.  They herded their farm animals, picked the best looking ones, and offered the first 10 percent.  They offered food, and not merely the bruised apples or the dented cans of creamed corn.  They offered the first fruits, the best food the land could produce.  They gave these things, not because they had cash value (which they did), but because they were an essential part of everyday life. 

          If you wish to give a tenth of your zucchini crop or your tomatoes to the church, we may not know what to do with them, but we will honor it as a gift to God.  God wants us to give something of ourselves.  God wants tangible evidence to show that we belong to God.  When we give the first piece of what we have, we affirm that everything comes from God.  What we do with our money matters deeply to God, because it exposes our values, our commitments – in some sense, it exposes our very lives!

          Number two: I do not tithe yet because giving is not always a first priority or a regular discipline.

          There is little I can say to defend myself.  It reflects my own lack of discipline.  The people of Israel gave their first fruits.  They gave first to God, every other commitment followed.  By contrast, I pay other bills first and give God a little bit of the leftovers.  Tithing begs the question: who comes first?

          A friend of mine who tithes says, “There are a lot of creditors who want a piece of me and my paycheck.  There are all sorts of other concerns that compete for my attention and my money.  But I write out my check to the church first, before I pay anything else.  It is my way of saying that I belong to God before anybody else can get a piece of me.”

          That comment moves tithing from being an obligation to a statement of faith, a declaration of allegiance, a response to the care and protection of the Lord of your life.  When we give our money to the church, we participate in the Lord’s work, whether we contribute to the overhead costs for the religious establishment, or extend what the Lord is doing in the world, or underwrite those things that our Lord values and honors.

          Most of all it is a way of saying, “I belong to God before I belong to anybody else.”  And I believe that; at least I think I do.  Of course, I don’t tithe.  At least, not yet.  Do you know why I feel that way?  It has to do with the number one reason why I don’t tithe yet.

          Are you ready?  Get a pencil and write this down.  Here is the number one reason why I don’t tithe yet: because I do not trust God enough.  Or to put it another way: because I am afraid.

          Fear is the issue, isn’t it!  If I tithe, will God catch me?  Or will I face financial self-destruction?  It is easy for me to add up all my financial commitments and put God last.  I have to have a place to live; that’s rent and bills on the Warrensburg house, plus we still have a mortgage and upkeep costs on our old house in Washington.  There are car payments to make, plus insurance.  Then there are the credit card bills, the student loans, groceries, gasoline, and we still have a kid in diapers.  Where does God fit into my budget?

          So what are we going to do?  One response is to give God a proportion of what we earn.  Then we can make a commitment to grow in our giving until we attain a tithe.

          OK, now is the tough part, real numbers.  You all know what I make, a tithe, before taxes and bills would be almost $400.  I don’t give that much each month.  I probably give about 3% of what I make, not 10%.  Now do the numbers for yourself.  Think of how much you make each month, how much is 10%, how close are you to giving that?  Can you do better?  I know I can.  Once we make a commitment, we can grow into the fullness of generosity.  What’s to stop us?  Only fear.

          So, as you consider your pledge for the next year, your time your talent and yes your money.  Think about how much you are really willing to give to God.  Are you giving God the first and best of what you have, or are you giving God the leftovers?  How big is your commitment?  You might be like me and truly cannot afford a tithe, but my guess is, that like me, you can afford to give more.  Even if we all aimed for a ½ tithe, giving only 5%, that would make a big difference, not only in the life of the church but in our personal lives as well.

          OK, that’s enough tough talk about tithing for today.  But as you go home, I challenge you to really think about it.  Don’t just brush tithing aside, it is a goal we should all aspire to.  Amen.

 

Monday, October 21, 2013

Come Be My Light


October 20th, 2013      “Come Be My Light”  Rev. Heather Jepsen

Luke 18:1-8 and Jeremiah 31:27-34

          Today, I want to take a break from our current news cycle, and talk about someone who was in the news several years ago, Mother Teresa.  In 2007 with the publishing of some of her letters in a book titled “Come Be My Light” the world found out about the interior spiritual life of Mother Teresa and what they found shocked them.  The world previously knew Mother Teresa as a living saint, a holy person who walked among us, a person with such faith that they were an example to all who met or knew of her.  With the publishing of her personal letters we discovered a flip side to that life, we discovered a woman who often felt alone and abandoned by God.  These are Mother Teresa’s words to her spiritual confidant, “Jesus has a very special love for you.  But as for me – The silence and the emptiness is so great – that I look and do not see, - Listen and do not hear.” 

          Rather than being some sort of exposé or negative campaign, the book “Come Be My Light” was actually gathered by Brain Kolodiejchuk who is Mother Teresa’s postulator, or the person who is working to make her a saint.  He is responsible for collecting all supporting materials about Mother Teresa which would pertain to her sainthood; and the letters were among these documents.  The title, “Come Be My Light” refers to what Mother Teresa felt her calling from Christ was, to come and be his light among the poorest of the poor.  Kolodiejchuk has stressed that the letters do not diminish the holiness of Mother Teresa in any way, rather they enhance it.

          In our gospel lesson this morning, Jesus tells the disciples a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.  He tells them a story of a widow who persistently comes before an unjust judge asking for justice.  A widow has no protection or authority in the ancient world, and so the only way she can achieve justice is through the ruling of a judge.  Judges in Israel were especially charged with care of the poor and widows, since no one else would.  But the judge in this story cares not for God or people, so he is not moved by the woman’s request.   Finally, after the woman’s great persistence, the judge offers justice to her, just so she will leave him alone. 

Jesus points out that if a cruel judge will give way, how much more will God listen to the prayers of God’s people.  The key is persistence, to pray always and not to lose heart, even when it seems that God is not listening at all.  Mother Teresa writes, “In my heart there is no faith – no love – no trust – there is so much pain – the pain of longing, the pain of not being wanted.  I want God with all the powers of my soul – and yet there between us – there is terrible separation.”

When studying this parable of Jesus, Fred Craddock points out that the story “presents prayer as continual and persistent, hurling its petitions against long periods of silence.  The human experience is one of delay and honestly says as much, even while acknowledging the mystery of God’s ways.  Is the petitioner being hammered through long days and nights of prayer into a vessel that will be able to hold the answer when it comes?  We do not know.  All we know in the life of prayer is asking, seeking, knocking, and waiting, trust sometimes fainting, sometimes growing angry.  Persons of such a prayer life can only wonder at those who speak of prayer with the smiling facility of someone drawing answers from a hat.”

The compiler of Mother Teresa’s letters points out that “the tendency in our spiritual life but also in our more general attitude toward love is that our feelings are all that is going on – so to us the totality of love is what we feel.  But to really love someone requires commitment, fidelity, and vulnerability.  Mother Teresa wasn’t feeling Christ’s love, and she could have shut down.  But she was up at 4:30 every morning for Jesus, and still writing to him, ‘Your happiness is all I want.’”

Mother Teresa’s experience of the silence of God is nothing new in the lives of the saints.  The Spanish Mystic, St John of the Cross is one of the great spiritual masters of the church, and he is known specifically for his experience of the absence of God, which he termed the “dark night of the soul.”  The amazing thing about Mother Theresa is that despite her feeling separated from the Lord, she continued to do God’s work.  And not only that, she did it in such a way as to be an example to all and to bring others to faith.

An article about Mother Teresa that appeared in Time magazine when the book of letters came out tells this story; “For most people, Teresa’s ranking among Catholic saints may be less important than a more general implication of Come Be My Light: that if she could carry on for a half-century without God in her head or heart, then perhaps people not quite as saintly can cope with less extreme versions of the same problem.

          One powerful instance of this may have occurred very early on – when British writer turned filmmaker Malcolm Muggeridge visited Teresa.  Muggeridge had been an outspoken agnostic, but by the time he arrived with a film crew in Calcutta he was in full spiritual search mode.  Beyond impressing him with her work and her holiness, she wrote a letter to him that addressed his doubts full bore.  “Your longing for God is so deep and yet He keeps Himself away from you,” she wrote.  “He must be forcing Himself to do so – because he loves you so much – the personal love Christ has for you is infinite – the small difficulty you have regarding His Church is finite – Overcome the finite with the infinite.”  Muggeridge apparently did.  He became an outspoken Christian apologist and converted to Catholicism.  His film, Something Beautiful for God, made Mother Teresa an international sensation.”

Though we ourselves are not Catholic, we stand to learn something from Mother Teresa, for I believe that her experience is something that average believers also experience, albeit to a lesser scale.  This is why Jesus taught the disciples to pray always and not to lose heart.  In our day and age of prosperity preaching and happy clappy worship, in which our faith is so often equated with our feelings, Mother Teresa offers a profound counter example for us.  Sometimes we just can’t feel God in our lives, but that doesn’t mean God is not there or that we are not good Christians.

I find the reading from Jeremiah to be an interesting conversation partner on this topic.  As you know from last Sunday, Jeremiah is writing to the Israelites who are in exile in Babylon.  They have lost their homes, the seat of their faith, and they are separated from the people they love.  Through the prophet Jeremiah, God tells the people that they will spend 70 years in exile in Babylon, after that God will restore their fortunes.  Part of that restoration is the promise we find in today’s reading. 

The Lord promises that a day of a new covenant is coming; a day when God will write the law of love directly on the hearts of God’s people, rather than on cold stone tablets.  Once more God promises fidelity to the people, God promises to be their God, to write God’s law in their hearts, and that they will all, down to the last person, know the Lord. 

My understanding of this writing is that God’s law of love is written in the hearts of all people, whether they know it or not.  As we read so often in the New Testament, through the work of Jesus Christ, God’s covenant extends to all people on earth, not just the Jews.  If God’s law is written in the heart of every person, than I believe that even during those times in our lives when we don’t know God, God is with us.  Even in those times of darkness, when we can’t feel God, God is still present with us in an intimate way.  God is always in covenant with us in our hearts.

As believers, and perhaps even non-believers, I find a lot of value in our faith lives to just showing up.  Some of us have been walking the Labyrinth on Tuesday nights and this is a great opportunity to just show up.  All of the Spiritual disciplines, from prayer to meditation to studying scripture, rely on us giving our effort, whether we feel it that day or not.  Some nights at the Labyrinth I am profoundly moved by the presence of God with me there.  Some nights I am so busy in my own mind, I can’t seem to get out of my own way to see God.  A huge part of the value of a spiritual practice like the Labyrinth is just showing up.  If I keep walking every week, then every week I have a new encounter or even non-encounter with God.

I am certain the same is true for many of you when it comes to Sunday morning worship.  A big part of church is just showing up.  Some weeks it really hits you; the music is just right, the sermon is in your language, the prayers touch your heart, and you feel the presence of God here.  But other weeks not so much; the songs throw you off, the sermon is boring, and you just don’t feel right.  The trick to being faithful is just that, being faithful.  Keep coming, keep showing up, keep opening the door to God in your life.  Even if you go through years of feeling nothing, at some point, in some moment, God will be there.  Like the persistent widow in Jesus’ story, if we keep coming and asking for God, eventually God will show up.

The reality of our lives of faith is that while some of us feel the presence of God every minute of every day, most of us go through a time when our only experience is a sense of absence.   How much more than do we all need to listen to the story that Jesus’ tells and petition God continually in prayer.  My hope is that like Mother Teresa, we will be able go out into the world bearing the Light of Christ, even in our days of darkness.  Like Mother Teresa, we need to keep working for God in the world, even in the midst of our own unanswered prayers and moments of loneliness and doubt.  We can find hope in the fact that we are not alone in this experience, rather we stand with each other and we stand among the saints.  May we pray always and not lose heart, and while we do it, may we bring the light of Christ into our world.  Amen. 

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Bloom Where You're Planted


October 13th, 2013    “Bloom Where You’re Planted”     Rev. Heather Jepsen
Jeremiah 29:1, 4-7 and Psalm 137
          The Psalm this morning is one of the most famous in the psalter.  Written in the time of exile it speaks of the heartache of the people of Israel.  As you may know, by this point in the history of the Jews, the Babylonians have run rampant over the land of Israel and Judah.  They have destroyed the city of Jerusalem and more importantly the temple.  Many of the people have been captured as slaves and taken to live in the land of Babylon, far from their now destroyed homes.
          It is easy to imagine their great suffering and sadness.  They have lost their homeland and the seat of their faith.  The Psalmist writes of his heartache when he says “By the rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept.”  The captors ask the Israelites to sing, but “how can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” the psalmist asks.  In grief, the Israelites have hung their harps in the willows, and they pray for the destruction and death of those who hold them captive.  In one of the most truly awful passages of scripture, the psalmist gleefully cries for the violent death of the children of the Babylonians.  It’s not a pretty picture of God or of the people of faith.
          Our reading from Jeremiah is from one of his letters, sent from Jerusalem, to the people that are in exile in Babylon.  We read before this that a rival prophet, Hananiah has arisen in the land of Judah and is bringing the people of Israel a word of hope.  He declares that the Lord has spoken to him and asked him to deliver a message to the people of Israel.  Hananiah claims that God will break the yoke of the king of Babylon and that the Israelites will return to their homeland within only two years.  It is certainly good news to those held in exile, and something they would want to hear.
          Despite such words of hope, the Lord speaks to the true prophet, Jeremiah, and lets him know that Hananiah is a liar.  The real message from God that Jeremiah is to preach is that the Lord has put an iron yoke on all of the nations and that they are to serve King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon for seventy years, not two.  Jeremiah predicts the death of the rival prophet Hananiah, and he is gone within a year.
          Now this is where we pick up the story.  Jeremiah is called to preach this bad news to the people in exile.  He is called to tell them that though God hears and answers their prayers, they aren’t going anywhere, much less going home.  Rather than telling the people what they want to hear, Jeremiah is telling them the truth, and it is an awful one.
          The people of Israel are called to remain in the land of exile and Jeremiah tells them to prepare for the long haul.  They are called to truly settle in the land; to build houses and plant gardens.  They are called to take husbands and wives for themselves; to have children, and to even consider taking spouses for their children.  Rather than being in exile for only two years, Jeremiah makes it clear that God intends for the people to be in exile for two generations.
          In direct contrast to the psalmist’s prayer for the death and destruction of the Babylonians and their families, Jeremiah tells the people that they are to pray for the good of the Babylonians.  “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.”  The modern Christian is reminded here of Jesus’ lessons on loving your enemies.
          Jeremiah is not bringing good news to the people in exile, but he is bringing the truth.  They will be in Babylon for years on end, and they are called to make the most of their situation.  While they may feel abandoned by God, this is certainly not the case.  Further on in the letter Jeremiah writes “For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon’s seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.”  The promise remains, eventually the people will be freed from captivity and return to Jerusalem.  And here we find one of the more famous passages from Jeremiah, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”
          The story of the Israelites in exile is a powerful one and I find it echoed in many of our modern day situations.  Many of us are in difficult situations, praying for the Lord to save us from our circumstances, to redeem us from exile.  For some of us, the exile is an economic one.  I personally know a family that has been trying to sell a house for almost two years.  Month by month many families struggle to make ends meet and they pray to God for change.  They pray to God to be freed from the exile of juggling the bills and living from paycheck to paycheck.
          For some people, the exile is one of illness.  When a diagnosis of cancer hits a family a time of exile begins.  On a journey into the wilderness the family goes through many trials; first biopsy, then surgery, then months of chemo and radiation.  The individual has low white blood cells, literally exiled in their home as they cannot socialize for fear of catching a bug.  While the person diagnosed with cancer struggles with an exile from their former healthy self, the whole family carries the burden of extra work and care.  And all involved harbor the very real fear of “what if”.
          For some of us it is an emotional exile.  Where once there were mutual bonds of love and respect, now it seems as if there is nothing but pain.  From relationships between married couples, to relationships with our adult children, to relationships with aging parents; the climate of emotional exile is very real in many of our lives.  We pray to God for healing and change, but we wonder if things will ever be different.  And we fear that perhaps the relationship is finally beyond repair.
            Like the Israelites trapped in the land of Babylon, many of us are trapped in an exile of some form or another, and like the Israelites we are angry and we want change.  We are hurt, stressed, and emotionally broken; and we are hungering for a positive word from God.  This is why false prophets like Hananiah are so popular.  We want to hear some good news, that God will answer our prayers right now today, and that everything will be perfect when we walk out of these church doors.  Our modern world has its fair share of good news, prosperity gospel preachers, because theirs is a message that people long to hear.
          But more often than not, our redemption does not look like that.  Like the people of Israel, the news for us is not so good.  Our exile will last a long time, and there is little hope of dramatic improvement.  The situation is out of our hands, and our call is to simply be faithful and wait.
          Here is where the word of Jeremiah brings us good news.  God has not forgotten us, God has a plan for us, and in the meantime, we must simply bloom where we’re planted.  Economic difficulties stink, cancer is awful and scary, broken relationships are devastating, and yet in the midst of these exilic circumstances, we can choose to have a good attitude.  We can choose to make the most of a bad situation.  We can choose to bloom where we’ve been planted, be it a beautiful back yard garden, or a crack in a dirty parking lot.
          A big part of what helps us do this is our attitude.  Many of us harbor anger, guilt, and resentment in our hearts.  Like the exiles in Babylon, we are busy praying for the destruction of our enemies.  That is not the way God would have us be.  If we are to bloom where we are planted, then we need to be able to let go of past hurts and pains.  Acknowledge pain and heartache, and then leave it behind.  If we are living in the past, holding on to the way things were before we were in exile, then we won’t be able to move forward.  We won’t be able to settle into the future that God has for us.
          As many of you know, in our Brown Bag Bible Study we have been reading Rob Bell’s book “Love Wins”.  He has some great language around this letting go stuff, as it relates to the new life that is available to us through Jesus Christ.  He writes,
“Jesus talks about death and rebirth constantly, his and ours.  He calls us to let go, turn away, renounce, confess, repent, and leave behind the old ways.  He talks of the life that will come from his own death, and he promises that life will flow to us in thousands of small ways as we die to our egos, our pride, our need to be right, our self-sufficiency, our rebellion, and our stubborn insistence that we deserve to get our way.  When we cling white knuckles to our sins and our hostility, we’re like a tree that won’t let its leaves go.  There can’t be a spring if we’re still stuck in fall.” 
While Rob is talking about redemption and forgiveness of sins I think the language here really applies.  We can’t be like the people of Jerusalem, crying by the rivers of Babylon all our days, mourning the loss of our perfect lives and calling for the destruction of our enemies.  No, we need to let go of those false images of a perfect life that we were never promised.
          We need to move forward into new life, rebirth, even here in our times of exile.  We need to dig roots, and plant gardens, to get married and make plans for a future.  We need to bloom where we are planted, praying for our enemies, and making the most of a bad situation.  And though we may feel like we have been abandoned by God, we must know that that is not the truth.  Rather, God is with us in exile, and God promises us “For surely I know the plans I have for you, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope” no matter what exile you find yourself in today.  Thanks be to God for this truly “Good News” and may God help all of us to bloom where we have been planted.  Amen. 

 

Monday, October 7, 2013

World Communion


October 6th, 2013     “World Communion”       Rev. Heather Jepsen

Lamentations 1:1-6, 3:19-26

Luke 17:5-10

Page through the newspaper this week and you get quite an eyeful.  What once was unheard of now appears a common event.  Government shuts down because politicians have ceased to negotiate.  Like kids on the playground, they stand and yell while thousands of Americans are trapped in the middle without pay.  Mass shootings are so common in our news they hardly warrant a mention.  What once would have captured our attention for weeks, a shooting at a secure Navy Yard in DC, is now brushed aside as a common event.  In every newspaper we read as violence marches on in the Middle East and Africa.  There are continual stories of child abuse and molestation, many coming from within our very churches.  And then there are all the regular stories; another rape, another domestic violence, another armed robbery, another murder, the list is endless.

          I know for myself, when I sit down to consider our world today, to really think about the way we live with each other, the way humans treat each other, I become heartbroken.  We talked last week about opening our eyes, and when I open my eyes today they are filled with tears.  When I think about those who have nowhere safe to sleep, those who have no food to eat, those who are threatened constantly by violence, those who face rape and torture, I am heartbroken.  How many times have those who suffered cried to the Lord for an end to violence?  When will their prayers be answered?  When will peace ever be a reality in our world?

          When I consider our world and the daily life for many people less fortunate than I, I am tempted to lose hope.  I am not just saying that.  The temptation to lose hope is very real for me, it’s tangible, it is right before me.  I am often tempted to wonder if God is even really listening to prayers.  Have you ever felt that way?  Have you ever asked yourself, “Where is God in our world”?

          That is the question the writer of Lamentations had been asking.  The book of Lamentations is composed of five lyric poems that lament the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians.  The people of Jerusalem have been devastated, their city and their homes are merely a memory.  Listen again to the lament over Zion . . .

          “She sits alone, the city that once was full of people.  Once great among the nations, she has become like a widow. . . . She weeps bitterly in the night, her tears on her cheek; . . . she has no one to comfort her . . . Judah has gone into exile with suffering. . . The memory of my suffering and my homelessness is bitterness and poison!”

          You can hear the sorrow and pain in the voice of the poet as he cries to the Lord.  One would expect that he is wondering where God is in all this suffering.  Why do we suffer?  Why are we exiles from our homeland?  Where is God in all of this?  Does God even hear our prayers?  I would not be surprised to hear these questions asked, and yet as we continue on in the passage we find something completely different.

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:  The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, The faithful love of the Lord hasn’t ended; they are renewed every morning; great is your faithfulness.” 

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.  These are the words the poet writes in exile; these are the words he uses to describe his Lord.  Even in the midst of suffering and hardship, even in the midst of homelessness and grief, even in the midst of war and death, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.”  What a powerful message this is to us in our own days of suffering and war.

The poet continues, “The Lord is good to those who hope in him, to the soul that seeks him.  It is good to wait in silence for the Lord’s deliverance.”  It is good to wait quietly, to be patient, to keep watch for the work of the Lord in our midst.  It is good; simply to sit, to watch, and to wait in faith.         

Today is World Communion Sunday and I must admit that it is one of my most favorite days in the liturgical year.  Today is the day when we remember that we are not alone in this.  I think that sometimes we forget that we are not the only church.  I like World Communion Sunday because it reminds us that we celebrate at the table with the whole world.  Not just everyone at our church, or everyone in our town, or everyone in our presbytery, or all the Presbyterians in the world.  No, we celebrate with all the Christians in the world; Christians in Africa and the Middle East, Christians in China and Mexico, and Christians all across the United States.  When we come to the table we never ever come alone, rather we always come with the great community of believers all over the world.

          Today the Presbyterian Church has also dedicated to a focus on Peacemaking which I think is fitting.  When we consider the Christian communities around the world, we realize the great need for peace among the nations.  Our church has set this day aside as a day to pray and to work toward peace in our communities and around our world.

          To work and pray for peace with patience is a tall order.  It calls to mind the words of the apostles in Luke “Increase our faith!”  The apostles have been given lessons on how to be a community of Christians and after hearing about how they need to get along with each other they cry out “Increase our faith!”  “Help us to have the faith that we need to deal with each other in peace” we say and I imagine they said as well. 

Jesus’ response to their request is to tell them a strange parable about servants and masters.   “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’?  Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’?  Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded?  So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’”

          Though at first a bit of a mystery, when we examine the parable closer we see that it is about our relationship with God.  The message is that if you are a servant of the Lord, you will do the right thing because that is your job.  If you are a servant of the Lord, you will work toward peace in the community and in the world.  And do not expect a reward for your work; you are simply doing your job.  The parable reminds us of our place in relationship to God.  God owes us nothing for our discipleship, and similarly we can not earn anything from God. 

          I think in its own way this parable answers the request the disciples made.  “Increase our faith!” they say.  And Jesus’ response to them is basically “Do your job.”  Even when you are in doubt, even when you are in sorrow, even when you are seriously tempted to lose hope; keep going.  Keep doing your job, keep going through the motions, keep serving the Lord, and in doing that, you will increase your faith.  The advice Jesus gives is that when your faith is waning, just keep going. 

          It is interesting that in the parable Jesus mentions the servant coming and taking a place at the table.  I think that unlike the earthly servant and master, in our relationship with God we are invited to the table.  Though we can not earn our place at the table, no matter how big our faith is, a mustard seed or smaller, God invites us to God’s table.  God invites us all, the whole world, to come together and celebrate the sacrament of communion.

          When we gather at the table, we join believers around the world in a meal that celebrates our unity in Christ.  It is in Christ alone that we have our life and salvation.  It is in his death and resurrection that we are redeemed and not by our own merit.  And it is in Christ alone where we will find peace.  Even if we are feeling low in our faith, we are to come to the table and be fed.  Keep going, keep working, keep celebrating communion in community; and your faith will be increased, your hope will return.

          On this World Communion Sunday I find hope for our world in the presence of our Lord at the table.  And I find hope for peace in the knowledge that we don’t come to this table alone, rather we come with our brothers and sisters around the world.  “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.”  May we work and pray for peace in our world.  And in the meantime, as we read our morning newspapers may we be patient and faithful, for “The Lord is good to those who hope in him, to the person who seeks him.  It is good to wait in silence for the Lord’s deliverance.”  As we celebrate communion today may we remember our brothers and sisters around the world and stand with them as we struggle for peace.  Amen.