Epworth United Methodist Church

Pentecost Proclamation
Mark 6:1-13
Epworth UMC,
July 5, 2009,
Portland, Oregon

“Humanity of Jesus”

INTRO: Our gospel is always proclaimed by flawed mortals; otherwise it would not be proclaimed at all. It is true that the gospel is always HEARD by flawed mortals; otherwise it would never be hear. Hence there is a beautiful and incarnational link between the 2 episodes that make up the Markan reading today.

In the first portion of the reading, Jesus enters his own hometown having just outdone himself in the miracle department. (Lectionary gospel for last week) But he’s hardly been elevated to super healer/hero status, recalling that after the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the people laughed at him. The rejection Jesus meets in Nazareth is different from what he faces elsewhere only in degree.

We might be tempted to harshly judge those hometown folks for responding to Jesus the way they did. But if we do so, we miss an important point: we too have times of disbelief. We too are apt to restrict what we think God is capable of doing in our lives and our communities.

Such a reaction overlooks the connection between this episode and what follows. The rejection Jesus experiences allows his disciples to know that in Christ, God has entered the human condition in an entirely real way, complete with limits and suffering. The disciples are no longer alone in their weaknesses and so-called failures, and neither are we. As they go out 2 by 2 they do so knowing that even Jesus, The Word made Human, came to his own people and they rejected him. Rejection has been the traveling companion of the Gospel from the beginning. More later on how we attempt to create our own idea of what Jesus should be like. When he doesn’t conform to our notion of the human/divine one, we become disappointed. Jesus was a radical social revolutionary and often we prefer a more civilized, manageable Jesus.

PRAYER: Startle us again O God with a new vision of the Christ we proclaim to follow. Save us from making him only human or only divine. Open our eyes, ears, and hearts so that we may embrace what healing and transformation you have in mind for us today. Come, Holy Spirit come, speak to us today the needed word. We ask this in the Name of your Decided Newness, Jesus, AMEN.

Proclamation: Two issues seemed to be my focus as I struggled with this text. One is the apparent limited ability of Jesus to do much in his home town, and second, the staidness and unwillingness to see Jesus as a true agent of change that drove him out of Nazareth. We say we believe in Jesus as fully human/fully divine, yet when he comes across in a text as having limits, as do we, we might balk, preferring the Jesus who always does what we ask, and a Jesus with no limits at all. Yet ponder this. How could we in our humanity identify with a Jesus who never failed at anything, with one who never experienced rejection and the myriad other maladies of earthlings like us?

The text implies that one of the facets leading Jesus to move on was the great lack of faith in the hometown folks. Could it be that Jesus needs the energy and companionship of humankind in order to accomplish God’s bidding? The following phrase speaks to this dilemma as well as anything I’ve ever heard. I don’t know who wrote it. “Without us, God will not. Without God, we cannot.” Interesting position isn’t it? Maybe the late martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer had something when he wrote in “Letters and Papers from Prison.” Pastor Bonhoeffer wrote, “God is weak and powerless in the world, and that is exactly the way, the only way, in which God can be with us and help us.” A writer commenting on this quote (Charles Ringma) expands on this by saying, “God’s coming among us in Christ has all the trappings of an anti-drama. In many ways, it was all so ordinary. And yet it was so special. But to a large extent it was wonderful only in hindsight. Only a few at the time of Jesus’ coming really saw and wondered and worshiped. The majority saw nothing very special and finally sided with those who wanted to rid Israel of the Beloved One from Galilee. In this way, God came among us in weakness rather than in power; yet in this way alone we could be redeemed and transformed. God’s weakness will always manifest itself in the power of grace. “(End of quote.)

Hardly have I given a full rationale for what appears to be Jesus’ limits in the text. But it is time to move on to my second point, that being the apathy in the Nazarenes. They just knew they already had him pegged as just a hometown boy who may have had an unusual life, but to them he was just Jesus the son of the carpenter and the son of Mary. Hardly anyone to get very excited about. They had seen prophets come and go, so why get worked up and enter possibilities with this one? Maybe many in Nazareth could be termed “apatheists.” Who are they? Stay tuned.

Several years ago, writer Jonathan Rauch coined a new term, that of “apatheism.” (Yes, I had to look it up on Google and found many references to it there.) Writing in The Atlantic Monthly, Rauch wrote: “Apatheism is a disinclination to care all that much about one’s own religion, and an even stronger disinclination to care about other people’s religion. It may or may not be something new in t he world, but its flowering; particularly in ostensibly religious America is worth noting.” (The Atlantic Monthly May 2003) Rauch goes on to say, “Apatheism concerns not what you believe, but how. Most agnostics (those holding to “I don’t know) are apatheists, but most apatheists are not agnostics. This is an essential point; many apatheists are believers. Since apatheism concerns not what we believe but HOW, so how do we believe?”

Apatheism may be a new word for our decade. It may well be a word used to describe how we handle religious faith these days. We may think we are well served if we keep everything in general terms. We may be ones to check the “I believe in God” box, but the downside of a broad tolerance of everything is a lack of passion about anything. Surely that as appealing, acceptable, and free-of-risk as religious generalities may be, they will not begin to touch the real reason you came to worship this morning.

Apatheism might accurately the largely unchurched Pacific Northwest, but it is a passionless word. No one’s soul was ever fed well on euphemisms and generalities. Apatheism will not produce satisfaction. It will not touch that empty spot in your deepest longing. It will not scratch that “Who am I?” itch, and will leave you still with a gnawing hunger when you stop and think about your life and your purpose here. The downside of broad tolerance of everything is often a lack of passion about anything.

Jesus came to his own people. He still comes to his own people and waits to see what will happen. Those who do not welcome his overt presence, his words, do not engage in gospel passion, will be well able to blend into the world about them. They’ll still be OK with just checking the “I believe in God” box. But here is the downside.

For us we are left alone with many questions but few answers. We are on a faith journey with no travel companions. All we have e is ourselves. Our Christian faith requires the passion and presence of Jesus Christ. The spiritual journey we’ve chosen is more than just finding a better-grounded approach to life. It is rather a lively engagement with the Christ who stands among us even now this moment in this very community of faith. Our faith is to be as passionate and specific as the love Jesus offers. It is as bold and faithful as the love he shares. It is always a faith that is both private and public, both treasured and shared. It stands FOR something, for Someone! It matters. There is no room for mediocrity, conformity, or apatheism. God’s love is one that desires to change the world, transforming us one by one. Our faith sings and shouts. It hopes even through despair. It allows us to hold onto faith in spite of prayers denied. Our faith is full of life in all its fullness. It has no place for apatheists.

In the Name of the One who loves us too much to let us remain the same, Jesus, the YES of God! Amen!

(Sources: The Christian Century, Lectionary Homiletics, www. Theology.org)

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
May 17, 2009
Psalm 98
John 15:9-17

Loving With Your Life

When we arrived at the church yesterday morning at 7:30a.m., there was already a group of women here preparing food for the Richmond School Festival!

As I look out I see some of the same faces here in worship this morning.

I don’t know about most people, but for me getting up to do anything before about 8:30a.m. on a Saturday morning is a real sacrifice.

Saturday morning is one of those precious, few days when many of us actually relax, sleep in, recreate in our own various ways.

Deborah, Toyomi, and I had come to set up for an all day meeting of our conference’s organization of Reconciling United Methodists, United Methodist people of faith who meet and work together for full inclusivity for all people in the life and ministry of the Church.

As we set up tables, arranged flowers, and prepared to welcome people from as far away as Eugene and Sweet Home, I realized how far they had traveled on their Saturday morning to meet inside a church on one of the first sunny and dry days of Spring.

This, too, seemed a real sacrifice to me.

I also remembered that several members and friends of Epworth were sitting at booths, selling strawberry Daifuku and Baru Zushi, break dancing, and offering their time and talents to the community as our meeting was taking place.

This also represented a sacrifice of personal time.

Each and all of these examples stand as examples of Jesus’ teaching in this morning’s gospel reading.

Those words, “If you keep my commandments you will abide in my love…This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you…” sound simple enough when read in church.

We can entertain the thought and the act of being friendly, loving in church, in toban after worship, and in many community places.

But these settings are limited in duration and do not require a lot of investment in terms of our deeper selves.

When we make sacrifices, and work together, and learn to relate with persons different than ourselves and begin to take on roles we never thought possible-

And when we learn to truly “love one another” as Jesus loved and loves us, then we will learn to honor one another’s differences, and to rely upon each other’s strengths.

Jesus says the reason for his willingness for his life to end is “love” for his “friends”. It helps to understand the language used here.

The Greek word translated as “friend” is phileo and literally means someone who is loved.

This is more than a bond over common interests, it is a relationship that goes much deeper than shared goals; this is a bond of love that survives every season of life.

For Jesus, laying down his life did mean a painful physical sacrifice. We may never be called upon to do that for Jesus or anyone else, but there are many ways of laying down our lives: we may need to end personal ambitions to do what’s best for our families, our friends, our community.

We might feel called to change the direction of our lives to pursue a ministry with people most of the world has forgotten; who knows how or where God might call us to express the love Jesus describes?

There are a thousand ways we can lay down our lives on behalf of Jesus, but we will only be able to do this if we are willing to receive God’s love for us. We cannot earn it, it is a free gift; we can only accept it allow it to transform us.

When we are able to do this, everything changes.

The most powerful story about the power of the kind of love Jesus is teaching us about comes in the form of a story known as, “The Rabbi’s Gift”.

It goes like this…

THE RABBI’S GIFT

The Different Drum Version
by Dr. M. Scott Peck *

The story concerns a monastery that had fallen upon hard times. Once a great order, as a result of waves of antimonastic persecution in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the rise of secularism in the nineteenth, all its branch houses were lost and it had become decimated to the extent that there were only five monks left in the decaying mother house: the abbot and four others, all over seventy in age. Clearly it was a dying order.

In the deep woods surrounding the monastery there was a little hut that a rabbi from a nearby town occasionally used for a hermitage. Through their many years of prayer and contemplation the old monks had become a bit psychic, so they could always sense when the rabbi was in his hermitage. “The rabbi is in the woods, the rabbi is in the woods again ” they would whisper to each other. As he agonized over the imminent death of his order, it occurred to the abbot at one such time to visit the hermitage and ask the rabbi if by some possible chance he could offer any advice that might save the monastery.

The rabbi welcomed the abbot at his hut. But when the abbot explained the purpose of his visit, the rabbi could only commiserate with him. “I know how it is,” he exclaimed. “The spirit has gone out of the people. It is the same in my town. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore.” So the old abbot and the old rabbi wept together. Then they read parts of the Torah and quietly spoke of deep things. The time came when the abbot had to leave. They embraced each other. “It has been a wonderful thing that we should meet after all these years, “the abbot said, “but I have still failed in my purpose for coming here. Is there nothing you can tell me, no piece of advice you can give me that would help me save my dying order?”

“No, I am sorry,” the rabbi responded. “I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.”

When the abbot returned to the monastery his fellow monks gathered around him to ask, “Well what did the rabbi say?” “He couldn’t help,” the abbot answered. “We just wept and read the Torah together. The only thing he did say, just as I was leaving –it was something cryptic– was that the Messiah is one of us. I don’t know what he meant.”

In the days and weeks and months that followed, the old monks pondered this and wondered whether there was any possible significance to the rabbi’s words. The Messiah is one of us? Could he possibly have meant one of us monks here at the monastery? If that’s the case, which one? Do you suppose he meant the abbot? Yes, if he meant anyone, he probably meant Father Abbot. He has been our leader for more than a generation. On the other hand, he might have meant Brother Thomas. Certainly Brother Thomas is a holy man. Everyone knows that Thomas is a man of light. Certainly he could not have meant Brother Elred! Elred gets crotchety at times. But come to think of it, even though he is a thorn in people’s sides, when you look back on it, Elred is virtually always right. Often very right. Maybe the rabbi did mean Brother Elred. But surely not Brother Phillip. Phillip is so passive, a real nobody. But then, almost mysteriously, he has a gift for somehow always being there when you need him. He just magically appears by your side. Maybe Phillip is the Messiah. Of course the rabbi didn’t mean me. He couldn’t possibly have meant me. I’m just an ordinary person. Yet supposing he did? Suppose I am the Messiah? O God, not me. I couldn’t be that much for You, could I?

As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off off chance that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with extraordinary respect.

Because the forest in which it was situated was beautiful, it so happened that people still occasionally came to visit the monastery to picnic on its tiny lawn, to wander along some of its paths, even now and then to go into the dilapidated chapel to meditate. As they did so, without even being conscious of it, they sensed the aura of extraordinary respect that now began to surround the five old monks and seemed to radiate out from them and permeate the atmosphere of the place. There was something strangely attractive, even compelling, about it. Hardly knowing why, they began to come back to the monastery more frequently to picnic, to play, to pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And their friends brought their friends.

Then it happened that some of the younger men who came to visit the monastery started to talk more and more with the old monks. After a while one asked if he could join them. Then another. And another. So within a few years the monastery had once again become a thriving order and, thanks to the rabbi’s gift, a vibrant center of light and spirituality in the realm.

This story came from The Different Drum, by Dr. M. Scott Peck, M.D. It is the story read at the beginning of most FCE Community Building Workshops. I’ve heard it at least 300 times and have heard over 100 different interpretations of the story. It still gives me chill bumps each time I hear it or read it.
. . . . . Jerry Hampton

________________________

* The Different Drum was written by Scott Peck. He did not write this story. The author is unknown.

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
May 10,2009
Mother’s Day
Acts 10:26-40
John 15:1-8

Only a Mother Would…

Last week was Communion Sunday and I have to tell you that it was really difficult to look out into the pews and not see Mrs. Endo there, not take her communion in this sacred space she has shared here for so many, many years…

I never had a chance to know her, or so many, many other women of faith here at Epworth like you-

On this Mother’s Day it is important for us to acknowledge them as well as the mothers and the women living today who live and model and struggle for a more loving, compassionate, kind, equal and, most of all spiritual civilization than what we are currently presenting and living in our world.

I believe it is imperative that we think and discuss such things today, especially in the church.

This morning we listened to one of my most favorite and troubling passages from Scripture in the Book of Acts; it is the story of Phillip and his conversation and subsequent baptism of the person simply described as “the Ethiopian eunuch”.

For persons living in that generation this description would suffice- it was enough for people to understand this person was an outcast, someone considered unclean or unfit for community life.

It was also enough for them to understand that Phillip baptized this person in the name of Jesus the Christ, inviting this religiously ‘unclean’ outcast into Christian community.

This is a favorite story because it illustrates the gracious inclusiveness of God, the love of God showered on every person despite our human prejudices, misconceptions, egos, and apparent need to feel superior to one another for life to be meaningful.

“Here’s water! What is to prevent ME from being baptized?”

Nothing.

Nothing at all. This is the disciple Phillip’s reply, and so the baptism is done.

The result? Well, we are not given a lot of information about that. I imagine both Phillip and the eunuch went on to share their faith and to invite as many into God’s community as they were able.

Both Phillip and the Ethiopian eunuch represent odd characters for modern American society, divided as we remain over men’s and women’s roles and rights, the welfare and rights of LGBT people, among other things that separate and divide us.

Yesterday I had the privilege to attend Robbie Tsuboi’s birthday party. While there I was reminded of some of the hopes and dreams of my generation, the 60’s and seventies.

One of the things I liked most was the attempt by our society to recognize the equal importance of both women and men.

There were classes, studies, and small groups designed to help people explore the blend and the balance of the feminine and masculine qualities that make a whole person.

This is what I also understand through the gospel of Jesus.

During those years I became attracted to eastern religious philosophies, especially Taoism.

I felt the concept of Tao, the balance of opposites and the attraction and harmony of opposites was an expression of my life experience and a main teaching of Jesus also.

When I think of Mrs. Endo, when I recall many mothers and women I have known or know today, I see and affirm the importance of all the qualities that make us human.

The disciple Phillip was able to see this through his conversation with the Ethiopian eunuch and to also understand the extension of God’s graciousness and love, which reaches beyond the bounds of every social barrier, as displayed in this story of baptism.

I didn’t know the title of this message when the bulletin was printed. I named it, “Only a mother” because of the common expression that only a mother would love an imperfect child.

Well, this is exactly what God promises us in and through Jesus, and we are all imperfect children.

A couple a weeks ago as I experienced a gathering in which God was only referred to as, “father” and that as often as possible, I noticed how something was really missing in this description.

In Scripture there are many names for God, and all the names of God are meant as metaphor, as symbol and representative of the all-embracing nature of God; no name is to be understood or taken as literal.

The Jewish people well-understood this, forbidding anyone from giving a human name or symbol for God, hence the word, “Yahweh” which really means there is no one accurate way to define or describe God in human terms.

There is a quality about God as mother that we dare not dismiss.

Traditionally in many of the world’s cultures, men are seen as remote, unemotional, critical and unapproachable; the display of emotions is perceived as weakness.

We forget that in many eras and places, including through the person of Jesus, we are given an entirely different image and model of what it means to be masculine and feminine; as the New Testament proclaims, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male or female, all are one in Christ Jesus…”

When I think of the most meaningful women in my life, I see they are a blend of the best of all human qualities, qualities not limited by gender or generation or culture.

These were women of incredible strength and vulnerability, women who lived passionately for what they believed and for those they loved.

This is why I thought of Mrs. Endo particularly during Communion last week.

Knowing Mother’s Day was this week I did think about her need and ability to be both father and mother to her children. To live the qualities of all human life, abilities and characteristics not restricted to male or female blending of all these things in one human whole.

The baptism of the Ethiopian eunuch is one symbol of God’s nurture and love for all persons.

In the gospel of John we learn something I think every mother intuitively understands; that God’s grace and love always come to us on their way to someone else.

The Ethiopian eunuch was baptized into a community that we represent today.

It is a community that understands itself as branches of Jesus the Christ.

This very image embraces both what our culture defines as ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ and the need to develop both.

We are reminded that we are fruit-bearing, not fruit-making: “Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”

There are important things to recognize in these familiar words.

First, we have probably herd these words read here many times, still, we exist in a culture that defines strength, achievement, and success as things we are to aspire to through our own efforts.

As one colleague put it: “When a branch gets the idea it can make fruit on its own, it dries up, withers, and is no longer useful”.

Secondly, the “fruit” we are to bear, to nurture and to harvest, like the grapes of any fine winery, are a mixture and blend of many textures and flavors.

As branches connected to the vine of God’s love and grace we are the conduits and the not the end products – this is surely something a mother understands, and, I suspect, anyone who allows themselves to own and express this full range of both humanity and the Divine.

So on this Mother’s Day, I remember and give thanks for women and mothers of every generation who have embraced and lived this life’s journey to their best, exhibiting strength and gentleness, independence and interdependence, fortitude and faith in the history, the stories that comprised their time.

And on this Mother’s Day I am grateful for the image of God as a nurturing, strong, compassionate and embracing mother, a creator who finds every opportunity, even the smallest pool of water in the desert, even in the image of a rejected and crucified Savior, to reach out and include those whom others were pass by and reject.

Who but a mother would…?

I will close with this story.

BEING A MOTHER
After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me
to take another woman out to dinner and a movie.
She said, ‘I love you, but I know this other woman
loves you and would Love to spend
some time with you.’
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my Mother, who has been a widow for 19 years , but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.
That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner
and a movie. ‘What’s wrong, are you well,’ she asked? My mother is the type of woman who suspects
that a late night call or a surprise invitation
is a sign of bad news.
‘I thought that it would be pleasant to spend
some time with you,’ I responded ‘just the two of us.’ She thought about it for a moment, and then said,
‘I would like that very much.’
That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s.
‘I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed,’ she said, as she got into the car. ‘They can’t wait to hear
about our meeting.’
We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm
as if she were the First Lady.
After we sat down, I had to read the menu.
Her eyes could only read large print. Half-way through the entrees, I lifted my eyes and saw Mother
sitting there staring at me.
A nostalgic smile was on her lips.
‘It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,’ she said. ‘Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,’ I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. We talked so much that we
missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, ‘I’ll go out with you again, but only if
you let me invite you.’ I agreed.
‘How was your dinner date?’ asked my wife when I got home. ‘Very nice, much more so than I could have imagined,’ I answered.
A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. Sometime later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place Mother and I had dined. An attached note said: ‘I paid this bill in advance. I wasn’t sure that I could be there; but, nevertheless, I paid for two plates – one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me.
‘I love you, son’

At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: ‘I love YOU’ and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till some ‘other’ time.
Somebody said it takes about six weeks to get back to normal after you’ve had a baby… somebody doesn’t know that once you’re a mother, ‘normal’ is history.
Somebody said you can’t love the second child as much as you love the first… somebody doesn’t have two or more children.
Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery….somebody never watched her ‘baby’ get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten… or on a plane headed for military ‘boot camp.’
Somebody said a Mother can stop worrying after her child gets married… somebody doesn’t know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother’s heartstrings.
Somebody said a mother’s job is done when her last child leaves home… somebody never had grandchildren..
Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don’t need to tell her… somebody isn’t a mother.
Pass this along to all the GREAT ‘mothers’ in your life and to everyone who ever had a mother.
This isn’t just about being a mother; it’s about appreciating the people in your lives while you have them… no ma tter who that person is!
Watch your thoughts, they become words.
Watch your words, they become actions.
Watch your actions, they become habits.
Watch your habits, they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes…
your destiny.

‘Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet
is fighting some kind of battle’.

Live life to the fullest!!

Prayer

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
May 3, 2009
Psalm 23
John 10:11-18

Communion Reflection

The only thing I know about a person named Conte Vittorio Alfieri is this statement he once made: “Often the test of courage is not to die but to live.”

I have thought quite a few times lately about this remark for two major reasons.

The first is that all around me I see people displaying increasing signs of anxiety, frustration, and fear. Our son Joshua enjoys target practice and recently went to purchase ammunition. He told us that everywhere he went he was told the same thing as he looked at empty shelves; most ammunition is bought as soon as it is on the shelf, and the cost has more than quadrupled.

Some people respond to a growing sense of uncertainty with fear, and fear often leads to a sensed need to protect oneself and one’s loved ones from real or imagined enemies.

The second reason I have thought about Alfieri’s comment that often the test of courage is not to die but to live is because I have recently participated in events that remind me of this truth; both of these took place within our Epworth community.

Three weeks ago, on Easter Sunday we celebrated our second Easter together, declaring the resurrection of Jesus as the Christ, and ourselves as disciples, followers.

The very next week twenty-six of us, along with a dedicated and fast-paced driver headed for the thirty-third N.W. Nikkei Conference in Ontario, Oregon.

Last week, most of us here today were involved with our Spring Bazaar. For days before, many of you, and others from our community gathered, prepared foods, planned set-up, marked prices for rummage and crafts items, baked, and in countless other ways contributed to a very successful bazaar, enjoyed by many in

our larger community as well.

On each occasion I had reason to stop, pray and reflect upon the courage of both the Christian community as a whole, and our Epworth community in particular.

More courage than I can even imagine was required for Mary Magdalene, Peter, James, John and all the others to accept the evidence of the risen Christ and drop everything else in life to face the dangers and unknown lives of evangelists of the gospel we read every Sunday in worship.

An incredible amount of energy and courage is required to face social ostracism and hostility; for many this is a hardship and a wound that never heals. During such difficult times, community grows even more important, and the bonds made together in such circumstances only strengthen over the years. I experienced some of this when we traveled to Ontario for the N.W. Nikkei Conference.

As I bumped along on the bus with others from Epworth I thought about how long many of you have made this trip together, and when we arrived, I marveled at the connections that had grown from thirty-three years of traveling around the states of Washington and Oregon to commune together through worship study, and fellowship [including, of course, the infamous Saturday evening banquet and Talent Show!]

While we were there, circumstances in worship and within our Epworth community led to further reflections about courage.

During our business meeting as a conference Rev. Gene Hall suggested we no longer continue the conferences following the thirty-fifth event in the year 2011. While the suggestion to discontinue was painful, the reality of labor and energy required for the event and the age of those responsible led to an agreement to end this gathering after its thirty-fifth year, waiting to see what the Spirit may lead to next.

It takes courage to realize this reality of time and aging.

On Sunday morning of the conference a member of the Ontario Community U.M.C. came forward, asking to speak. Many there, both from Ontario and the other churches gathered, knew him; his name is Shingo Wada.

As he walked up the steps to the microphone I was told he had never spoken in church before.

That morning he told all of us present he had been given a poor prognosis by his oncologist; he told us the medications no longer worked, and that he had a limited time to be with family, friends, and community. We all prayed with/for him that morning.

Since returning home, a prayer lap robe was knitted, blessed and sent to Shingo in Ontario.

Finally, there was the Spring Bazaar last Sunday.

I was amazed at my first spring bazaar with you.

But I did not know you so well.

This year I was even more aware of the tremendous amount of courage is does require to continue this bazaar.

People here work for weeks in preparation, and there is much physical and emotional labor that goes into the event.

Some people arrive at the church at 6:00a.m. for the days leading up to bazaar; others remain to “close up” for hours after the bazaar. Such a schedule is taxing at any age, let alone for so many who lead, work, and clean-up after this event who are in their eighties and beyond!

Truly, many times in life the truth is revealed that often the test of courage is not to die but to live.

In the end, we cannot control how we die, but we can decide how we will live in the meantime.

As I thought about of all this I remember a story about a ninety-five year old couple, who, having been married more than 60 years, died together in an accident. For the last ten years they had been in relatively good health largely because of the woman’s interest in health foods and exercise. When they reached heaven, St. Peter took them to a spacious home that included a great kitchen and hot tub. As they “oohed” about it all, the old man asked how much this was going to cost. St. Peter replied, “It’s free.”

Next they went out to survey the championship golf course that the home sat next to. They had golfing privileges every day, and each week the course changed to a new one representing great golf courses on earth.

Once more the old man asked, “How much is this going to cost? What are the green fees”

Once again St. Peter replied, “This is heaven. You play for free.”

As they went into the clubhouse to enjoy the lavish buffet lunch with cuisines from around the world displayed, the old man asked timidly, “Where are the low-fat and low-cholesterol tables?”

To this St. Peter replied,” Well, that’s the best part. You can eat as much as you like of whatever you like here.”

With this news, the man went into a fit, throwing himself upon the ground and shrieking.

Both St. Peter and the man’s wife asked what the matter was.

The man looked at his wife and said, “This is all your fault! If it weren’t for your bran muffins we could have been here ten years ago!”

Sometimes it does seem to take more courage to live than to die.

The good news of Scripture, both in Psalm 23 and in the gospel, is that we are not alone, and, more than this, we are loved and looked after with compassion, mercy, and a spirit of protection.

In Scripture this is the image of the Good Shepherd; it is the image of Jesus the Christ.

While I lived in Idaho I grew to understand more about sheep than I ever knew possible.

One thing I quickly learned is that they are not very bright, and left to their own devices they generally get themselves into lots of trouble and perilous places.

If they are not well-herded, they wander, scatter, and often panic to their own distress and peril.

After watching sheep for a few years I came to understand why Jesus employed this image to depict his relationship with the disciples, and, ultimately, Christ’s relationship to us.

In such uncertain times, in times when we face the unpredictability’s of illness, age, place in the social order or in any order at all; this image of Christ as shepherd is especially significant.

For, as timid and dense as sheep are, they do seem to grow to recognize and trust their shepherd, and to rely upon them for survival and rescue.

This is what Jesus invites us to do as well. No matter what we are faced with, as we learn to trust our Good Shepherd, we discover life is not the meaningless collection of chemicals, physics, economics and social constructs many would claim.

Today, may we affirm this relationship with Christ as we gather in Holy Communion; in prayer for those not here, both in and beyond this community in special need to support today.

Song

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
Easter Sunday
04-12-09

Is Seeing Believing, or, Is Believing Seeing?

[Invite everyone to look at bulletin cover. Do you why things like rabbits and eggs are associated with Easter? ]

> Easter bunny: since ancient times has been a symbol of both Spring and abundant new life

> Eggs/Easter eggs: once again stemming back to ancient times, eggs have been symbols of new life and spring. Also, the egg symbolizes the rock tomb out of which Christ emerged on that first Easter.

> Easter lilies symbolize the purity of Christ. Also, lilies emerge from the earth in the spring, breaking forth from bulbs, again, a symbol of the resurrection of Christ, breaking out of the tomb.

> Candles, on Easter Sunday and every Sunday, are symbols of Jesus the Christ as the Light of the World.

Not growing up in the Church myself, I never learned the meaning of such symbols. As a child I was taken to a few Community Easter hunts when small, but all I knew was that they were colorful, hidden eggs that were fun to look for, and they were called, ‘Easter Eggs.’

My mom and I would color eggs, and each year I received an Easter basket from parents and grandparents, but I never understood the true significance of any of the contents, just as I did not really comprehend the deepest and full significance of Easter itself, until I was an adult.

Another ancient church tradition I first learned as an adult is this Easter Greeting exchange between worship leaders and congregation on Easter morning:

“Christ is risen!”

“Christ is risen, indeed!”

We are many generations removed from those who first proclaimed these words with a sureness founded upon personal witness and experience, and not as many today claim such personal experience or knowledge of the risen Christ.

In fact, many Christian disciples today gather in the hope of such an experience, seeking personal experience of the risen Christ.

The first disciples had trouble believing in the reality of the resurrection; many hands-on experiences were required for some to have faith.

How much more difficult it is to believe that Christ is alive for people living more than two thousand later; people for whom even the traditional symbols of Easter have no meaning.

This world often places ultimate faith in technology, especially in matters of life and death.

I recall a few years ago when “New Scientist” magazine sponsored a contest in which the first prize was a free cryonics treatment, or freezing of the body in a vat of -350 degrees F. liquid nitrogen.

OF course the prize winner cannot collect this prize until he/she dies!

The hope is that perhaps someday technology will advance to the point of revitalizing the frozen body.

What a uniquely modern approach to death: put yourself on ice on the rare chance that someday, somebody might be able to bring you back to life!

When Jesus was “put on ice” in the cold tomb, so to speak, just the opposite was true.

Immediately following the crucifixion several religious leaders converged upon Pontius Pilate demanding that Roman guards be posted at the tomb so followers could not take Jesus’ body away. Pilate was weary of the whole thing by now, and told the religious leaders to use their own Temple guards at the tomb, which they did. They did this hoping to end the entire matter and let Jesus fade into obscurity and history.

The religious leaders were not the only ones expecting Jesus to stay entombed.

When Mary Magdalene found the stone rolled away she did not think “resurrection”, this only came much later, after her personal encounter with the risen Christ.

Her logical conclusion at the time was, “They have taken my Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Everyone: the disciples, the Romans, the crowds, all of them expected Jesus to stay on ice, to remain in the tomb.

Maybe this image of Christ on ice could be a contemporary symbol for Easter.

In more honest moments I wonder if this is not how most of us relate to Jesus, to the Christ- bringing him out on special occasions, along with our Easter rabbits eggs, Christmas trees and stars; then slipping him back into the tomb, back into ancient history, when the holiday or the special occasion is over.

For years now I have wondered if our preference for Christmas over Easter is more than economic and our love for presents. Isn’t it much easier to deal with a baby Jesus who brings us love, than a risen Christ who commands us to love?

On Easter, even as we seek the Risen Christ, perhaps there is a part of us that is content with a cryonic Christ, a Christ who remains frozen in the past or one to be proved true or false through some future technology.

But a frozen Christ cannot provide either the power or the life God intends for you and for me; a frozen Christ cannot guide us, lead us, or in any other way touch our lives.

If you have Christ on ice, isn’t it time to thaw your Jesus out?

The glory of Easter is that Christ is alive, able to lead, to guide, and to love us today.

When the risen Christ stands before Mary and calls her by name; when she realizes who it is, she is not invited to embrace and hold on to him. Instead, Mary is sent on a mission, “Go to my brothers and sisters and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and to your Father, to my God and to your God.”

This command of Jesus to “Go” is significant, for it comes from the same root as “apostle”. In a very literal way Mary may be considered the first apostle, the first one sent by Christ to proclaim the good news!

We are sent forth also, and as we accept and go, we too discover resurrection life, not only once, but every day.

To say that Christ is risen is to say you cannot keep your Christ, or faith, on ice; it is time to thaw it all out, and to breathe again!

Now we are going to have to live in hope, even when living in hope is not easy, and oftentimes there is no “easy button.”

Yet, if believing is seeing, then, like Mary, see the One who goes before us, calling us by our names, calling us from all that entombs us and threatens to destroy our lives.

Christ is risen!

Christ is risen indeed!

May this reality be yours this Easter Day and every day as you move through this world with eyes of faith.

Amen.

Accident Forgiveness

Psalm 51:1-17

Insurance companies now offer “accident forgiveness” for customers involved in minor accidents. What kind of forgiveness does God offer when our sin isn’t necessarily unintentional?

You’re driving down your local highway in the dead of winter and you see a patch of ice coming up.

You grip the wheel and think back to driver’s ed and what Mr. Whatshisname taught you about curve negotiation and threshold braking.

You hit the ice and go into a slight spin. Okay. Do you hit the brakes or not hit the brakes? Do you turn the wheel in the direction of the skid or in a counter-direction?

Doesn’t matter. You’re into the guardrail and the front end of your car looks like overcooked rigatoni.

Maybe it wasn’t your driving. Those new expensive snow tires failed to grip the road as they were supposed to. Maybe if that dang cell phone hadn’t rung. Why didn’t the highway crews get some sand or mag-chloride on the roads as they’re supposed to?

And the insurance company is going to hang you out to dry.

So when you go to your mailbox a few weeks later, you’re expecting a letter from your extortion company, and when you open it you’re expecting that there’s gonna be a hefty increase in your premium.

Only there’s not. The letter inexplicably says something like: “Gee, sorry you had an accident. Well, they do happen. No worries, though. We’re keeping your premium the same. Just be more careful next time.”

Good news? You bet.

That’s exactly what many auto insurance companies are doing these days. It’s called “accident forgiveness” and it’s the hottest marketing tool in the industry. If you have a new policy or a clean driving record for an extended period before any “at-fault” accident (meaning that you hit someone or something and not vice versa), that fender bender probably won’t cost you a big hit on your insurance bill. As far as they’re concerned, it never happened … at least this once.

Accidents do happen out there on the road and the assurance of insurance is a good thing. It’s a relief to get forgiveness when we probably don’t deserve it. If a big impersonal insurance company can offer grace, imagine what kind of grace God offers when we have a moral crash? And what if that crash isn’t an accident? What happens to us spiritually when our failure to stay on the road God has set for us isn’t an accident but a willful “at-fault” transgression? What kind of forgiveness, if any, can we expect then?

A classic biblical test case can be found in 2 Samuel 11. When King David viewed Bathsheba bathing on her rooftop, the impending collision in an adulterous affair was no mere moral fender bender. His deception, attempted coverup and de facto murder of Bathsheba’s husband Uriah are evidence that David never touched his ethical or spiritual brakes in this situation. His lust clouded his vision to the point that he swerved out of his lane and head-on into oncoming traffic, crashing in the same way his spiritual ancestors Adam and Eve had so many generations before — he preferred to listen to his own voice rather than the voice of God.

It’s popular in some circles these days to see sin as merely a series of “mistakes” or “accidents” that reflect our human imperfections. Biblically speaking, however, sin is more often about choice. God provides the Law as a means of defining boundaries and we choose whether or not to violate those boundaries at our own risk.

But sin is not merely a legal violation of divine law, like speeding or running a red light. The reason sin is so destructive is that it breaks our relationship with God, and broken relationships aren’t fixed by simply filling out the paperwork and paying the fine. When we fail to maintain a right relationship with God, we need nothing less than a completely new beginning — we need God’s forgiveness.

But first we need to get clear about what forgiveness means. In their book The Faces of Forgiveness, LeRon Shults and Steven Sandage identify at least three different ways that we can define it. One definition is “forensic” or “legal” forgiveness — the kind that your insurance company wants to give you, or the kind that involves having a debt erased. This kind of forgiveness is a “transaction … in which one party agrees not to exact what the law requires.” This kind of forgiveness is situational and may be limited to one particular incident. Your insurance company forgives your momentary lapse in driving skill, for example, and won’t raise your rates — this time. Back into your neighbor’s car the next month and you’ll see that the whole “seventy times seven” forgiveness thing that Jesus talked about isn’t written in your policy. Legal forgiveness can often only be a one-shot deal. In vehicular terms, habitual sin, even when it’s unintentional, can be expensive!

A second definition of forgiveness connects it with a therapeutic benefit. Forgiveness in this sense is a process by which the offended party is motivated to become “less vengeful and avoidant and more benevolent” toward the wrongdoer. Forgiveness in this context does not condone the offense or forget about it. Forgiveness is about releasing claim over the offender and moving forward in another direction. This kind of forgiveness, like the legal definition, is also limited. It doesn’t necessarily bring about reconciliation and restoration of a broken relationship. That requires a whole different level of forgiveness — the kind that only God can fully offer.

Psalm 51 is attributed to David as having been written after his affair with Bathsheba. There is some agreement among biblical scholars that it was actually written much later than David’s time, with the request in verse 18 to “rebuild the walls of Jerusalem” being cited as evidence of post-exilic authorship. But even if David didn’t put the pen to paper himself, the heartfelt cry of this psalm certainly reflects his heart in those days after his failure. He wasn’t seeking a mere free pass for a mistake that he made, nor was he just wanting God to withhold righteous anger and judgment while the king and his God went their separate ways. David was seeking nothing less than a restoration of the most important relationship in his life. He was seeking what Shults and Sandage define as “redemptive” forgiveness.

When David was confronted by the prophet Nathan in 2 Samuel 12, David comes to the heartbreaking realization that his sin was “against the LORD” — a realization echoed in Psalm 51:4. That doesn’t minimize the hurt that he had caused to the other people involved in the situation, including Bathsheba whom he used and Uriah whom he killed. It was simply a recognition that all sin moves us away from God. The psalm, then, is focused on taking steps toward reconciliation with God, counting on God’s “steadfast love” and “mercy” to restore the relationship (51:1).

Your insurance company has a long memory when it comes to your last patch of ice. The psalmist asks God to not just forget this one incident but to wipe the slate clean altogether.

This is the difference between the “good hands” people and the hand of God: The insurance company does look at your driving record — is it good or bad?

God doesn’t look at the record. God knows it’s not good. That’s why the plea to “blot out my transgressions” (v. 1) and the repeated references to cleansing throughout the psalm are evidence of the assurance that God’s redemptive forgiveness extends far beyond our last sinful act. When we come to God in confession and repentance, we know that God’s primary concern is to reconcile the relationship. God is no divine claims adjuster who raises the cost of our sin with each incident, but instead God will “Hide [God’s] face from [our] sins” (v. 9). They are dumped in the circular file and deleted from the database. Like David, we will still have to deal with the consequences of our actions. God promises, however, that we won’t have to carry the guilt.

We have to recognize, however, that the purpose of God’s forgiveness is not simple absolution, awaiting the next time we sin. Redemptive forgiveness is about clearing the way for a renewed relationship to take place — a relationship where the “joy of [God’s] salvation” wins out over the self-serving pleasures of sin (v. 12). We receive God’s grace not as a license to sin even more, knowing that we will be forgiven. Grace and forgiveness are about transformation — about a “willing spirit” to change and a “broken spirit” that recognizes constant dependence upon God (vv. 12, 17). Redemptive forgiveness enables us to move in a new direction where sin is not in the driver’s seat of our lives.

Lent is the perfect time to knock out the dings and dents we’ve received as the result of our reckless living. It’s a time to humbly place God in the driver’s seat and to work on the disciplines that help us grow in our relationship with God. It is a time for confession, for repentance, for asking God to redeem us. It is also the time to offer God’s redemptive forgiveness to others as we “sing aloud of [God’s] deliverance” in our own lives (v. 14).

God’s grace is not a one-shot deal but an offer of lifelong salvation. Is there any better news you can get than that?

Sources:

“HomileticsOnline.com”

Shults, F. LeRon and Steven J. Sandage. Faces of Forgiveness: Searching for Wholeness and Salvation. Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 2003, 20-25.

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
March 22, 2009
Fourth Sunday in Lent
Psalm 107:1-3,17-22
John 3:14-21

With Songs of Joy

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” –John 3:16-17

These verses are some of the most well-known and best loved Scriptures. Even those who do not follow Jesus often know these words from the gospel of John; if nothing else, they are the verses most often used on billboards, placards, and Christian church signs.

What does it mean to be “saved” through Jesus?

Often people describe salvation in conjunction with eternal life, and then describe eternal life as something that happens following this life.

But this is not what the gospel says; it is not what Jesus teaches or lives either.

Jesus tells his followers that eternal life is a quality of life that beings at the moment we have faith; and salvation, similarly, ushers in a centeredness, a wholeness in our lives that we may experience daily.

I remember reading about the death of President Calvin Coolidge; when it was announced someone made the comment, “really, how can they tell?”

Calvin Coolidge was not known for his enthusiasm in life or an attitude of optimistic exuberance.

Many historians describe him as ‘lifeless’ in his administration.

This lifeless attitude and behavior in life is surely the opposite of the dynamic power of God celebrated with song in Psalm 107, or the salvation power Jesus offers us in the gospel.

In the same gospel of John, in chapter 14, in speaking about his future death and resurrection, Jesus declares, “I say to you, those who believe in me will also do the works that I do; and they will do even greater works because I go…” [John 14:12]

Certainly the psalmist and those who sang, “Let them offer thanksgiving sacrifices and tell of God’s deeds with songs of joy” [Psalm. 107:22] knew something about the power and presence of God,

But the authors of the gospel knew even more so, for they knew Jesus personally.

Too many followers of Christ, however, never experience or understand this power and presence in life.

In a book I recently read, S.R. Crockett’s ‘Annals of the Parish’ there is a story about a churchyard cemetery in Scotland. There are several generations of one family buried among others; on each tombstone is given the name, and on each tombstone is the one and same comment describing their entire lives: ‘They keeped shop in Wigtown- and that’s all’.

Do you ever wonder what your tombstone might say?

Now, this family was probably comprised of pretty good people; they were Christian people, since they were buried in the churchyard.

Did their lives reflect the power and the promise of Jesus who said, “They will do even greater works than I…”?

God only knows, but in respect to how others experienced them, it does not seem so.

One colleague commenting on Jesus’ promises of presence and power is that we should never apologize for trying, and for being human.

The important point is to try!

The second point is to realize you are more than you think you are, and you are worth more to God than you can imagine.

There is a story about an older bachelor and a single woman who began seeing one another and accompanying one another to places as friends.

After awhile the bachelor realized he loved the woman, but he was shy and afraid to be direct. Finally, one day he gathered enough courage to say to her, “Let’s get married.”

She replied, “That’s a wonderful idea, but who in the world would have us?”

This humorous story reveals a truth about how we can sink into a ‘worthless’ and ‘powerless’ attitude about life.

God invites us to resist these deceptive feelings, and to claim a greater presence and power through Jesus Christ.

The words of Psalm 107 combined with the gospel reading affirm our ability to be and do great things through the power of God’s grace.

We need to realize we are more than we think we are.

This is a message we need to hear if we are to face life, live life more joyously than Calvin Coolidge.

I am grateful for a colleague who once said, “There is something you can be, but never will be, apart from Jesus Christ.”

I recall a story that dates back to the year 1985. A horrific earthquake hit Mexico City, and a young Japanese-American boy living in Los Angeles decided he wanted to help.

He set a goal of raising one million dollars to aid victims and began selling postcards door-to-door for .25 cents apiece.

When one man answering the door asked him if he hoped to raise one million dollars all alone, he replied, “Oh, no. I have a friend helping me!” The friend was Jesus.

Acting on the faith that his goal was possible, he set out to try his very best to do what he could for people he did not know, living in a place he had never seen.

That young boy seemingly understood something adults like you and me sometimes, or perhaps oftentimes forget; that commitment coupled with faith and expectation often gives us the ability to do what appears impossible.

Our “One Great Hour of Sharing” offering today is a denominational example of what people of faith may accomplish together. This offering supports The United Methodist Committee on Relief; every cent goes to aid victims of disaster and to support related programs of our church in many places around the world and within the United States.

Pooling our resources together we accomplish many ministries through UMCOR we could not do alone or as a local congregation.

There is something you can be but never will be, apart from Jesus Christ.

I believe this is true in everything, even in the small details of our daily lives.

It is the power of Christ that can transform you into the loving person you can never be on your own; it is the power of Christ that can make you the forgiving person you cannot be without grace, and it is the power of Christ that can make you the joyfully serving disciple you cannot be alone.

So, never apologize for being human, or for following Jesus Christ.

If you apologize for anything, apologize for not asking for or expecting enough; for settling for less than what you can be with Christ.

I remember a Native American story about a changeling eagle.

A brave found an eagle’s egg and put it in the nest of a prairie chicken.

The eaglet hatched with a brood of chicks and grew up with them. All his life, the eagle, thinking it was a prairie chicken, did what the prairie chickens did. He scratched the dirt for seeds and insects to eat; he clucked and cackled, and flew with a thrashing of wings and never more than a few feet. That is how prairie chickens fly.

Years passed and the eagle grew older. One day he saw a magnificent bird soaring high in the cloudless sky.

“That’s a beautiful bird. What is it?” He asked.

“That’s an eagle, the chief of all birds.” A neighbor clucked. “But don’t give it a second thought. You could never be like him.”

So the changeling eagle never did give it a second thought, and died still thinking he was a prairie chicken.

Prayer: Guide us, we pray, down the unknown corridor of this and every day. Lead us, each one, to the one door of all the many doors that you would have us open. Give us the courage to speak there the word you would have us speak of love and of healing. Give us ears to hear you speak at every turning of the way, to listen, to hear and obey, even when the heart within us faints. Help us to live this day as though it were the first of all our days or the last of all our days. Amen.

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
March 8, 2009
Second Sunday of Lent

Do Good

This Lenten season we are reflected on John Wesley’s Three Simple or General Rules for living a growing and faithful life of discipleship as a Christian. Last Sunday we talked about the first of these rules and what it really means to “do no harm”; no matter how simple these words sound we all agree they are quite complicated and often difficult to embrace and live.

While impossible to revisit this topic today, it is possible to draw from this message to briefly define “Do no harm” as: “When our words and actions are guarded by this first simple rule [Do no harm], we have time and space to think before a word is spoken or an action taken…When I am determined to do you no harm, I lose my fear of you; and I am able to see you and hear you more clearly” [Three Simple Rules: A Wesleyan Way of Living” Reuben Job, pg. 22-23]

“To do no harm means that I will be on guard so that all my actions and even my silence will not add injury to another of God’s children or to any part of God’s creation.” [ibid. pg31]

The second of John Wesley’s simple rules of faith is this: By doing good; by being in every kind merciful after their power; as they have opportunity, doing good of every possible sort, and, as far as possible, to all.” [Book of Discipline, 2004, par.103

In his personal journal from August 12, 1738 Wesley wrote about opportunities for doing good in his own society: “Here are poor families to be relieved: here are children to be educated: Here are workhouses, wherein both young and old gladly receive the word of exhortation.” [pg.35]

Clearly, going good turns out to be as challenging and as demanding as “Do no harm” if taken to heart.

I was reminded of how difficult this can be through two events last Friday.

The first involved a morning conference I visited about health care needs and available services for veterans returning from the Middle East, especially from nations such as Iraq and Afghanistan;

The second was a viewing of Alton Chung’s new production, “Kodomo No Tame Ni” [For the Sake of the Children], which is a phrase explaining the attitude of many Japanese-Americans as they capitulated to the terms of unlawful incarceration in places like Hart Mt, Tule Lake, Jerome, and Minidoka, to name only a few.

In both of my experiences the common thread was how to define what doing good looks like when facing what at the time seems like an insurmountable conflict of values.

In the case of returning Veterans I listened to questions of what doing good meant in an environment where adults purposefully pushed children into the paths of U.S. military troops because they knew Americans have a soft spot for women and children and were more likely to stop, allowing for an ambush and terrorist attack on the vehicles that stopped for the children.

What is doing good in a situation like this?

In Alton Chung’s presentation, “Kodomo No Tame Ni” there was very real conflict between the values and the definition of what “doing good” meant between Japanese Americans such as Ben Kuroki, the only Japanese-American to fly in a B-17 Bomber over Europe.

I listened to the bravery of Kazuo Masuda, a Distinguished Service Cross recipient and member of the legendary 442nd who died with a machine gun in his hand, saving the lives of other soldiers.

And then there was Frank Emi, and others who passionately thought as he did; whose strong ideals of “doing good” meant resisting the call to serve in and for a country who had only recently unlawfully excluded them from their civil liberties, ravaged their homes, farms and businesses, and as an ultimate act of betrayal, incarcerated families and friends in ‘relocation camps’ and, sometimes, in prisons or other federal institutions.

Listening to the stories of these two men, and also others, I could understand how each arrived at their beliefs and values.

Over and over again, however, I heard how many had been shunned by their own community and perhaps some still are today, for the positions they took on military service and the draft during the years of WWII, now more than sixty years ago.

In the case of those serving today in our forces in the Middle East, I listened to stories of the sexual harassment and too often the brutality leveled upon women serving in the United States military by their fellow soldiers and peers, the very persons they rely upon for their daily lives.

I wondered how any of these men and women , in either case, World War II or combat veterans today, would come to peace with what they experienced.

In some cases this has not happened for some persons in either life situation.

These two experiences reminded me that the mandate of “Doing good” in many situations comes without a clear definition of what ‘doing good’ actually means; this is what we are left to discern in our journey through this life.

Thankfully, we can, and we do, try to reach out in practical ways through support of local food banks and programs such as F.I.S.H., and we support many ministries through the full fulfillment of our conference benevolences- these affect many people locally, nationally and across the planet.

When it comes to basic needs such as food, shelter, clothing, medical care we can all come close to agreement on how we can do good.

At other times, however, when our values conflict, it becomes more difficult to both refrain from doing harm, and doing good.

Returning to an observation made by Rueben P. Job in “Three Simple Rules”:

“Each of us knows of groups that are locked in conflict, sometimes over profound issues and sometimes over issues that are just plain silly. But the conflict is real, the divisions deep, and the consequences can often be devastating. If, however, all who are involved can agree to do no harm, the climate in which the conflict is going on is immediately changed. How is it changed? Well if I am to do no harm, I can no longer gossip about the conflict. I can no longer speak disparagingly about those involved…I can no longer diminish those who do not agree with me and must honor each as a child of God.” [pg. 22]

As I thought about these words in light of the two events I attended last Friday it occurred to me that “doing good” in this regard is equally, if not more difficult, than collecting our donations, providing our talents in service, and supporting our larger church financially.

At the same time, it seems to me that it is learning to do good in terms of our relationships was a primary focus and teaching of Jesus Christ, and he knew the difficulty and challenge this dimension of his teaching posed.

Still, Jesus called for compassion and mercy in human relationships.

We talked about this last Thursday in our Bible study on the gospel of Mark.

The word used in these verses for mercy is much more than civil expectation or social responsibility.

Mercy in this context means genuine empathy and concern for the well-being of the other person or persons involved, no matter the context.

In terms of doing good, this means that I have a choice.

Doing good, like doing no harm is a proactive way of living; it means that I need not wait until someone asks for assistance, or for community, or for some other type of support.

“I do not need to wait until circumstances cry out for aid to relieve suffering or correct some horrible injustice. I can decide that my way of living will come down on the side of doing good to all in every way I can. I can decide that I will choose a way of living that nourishes goodness and strengthens community.” [pg.42]

This is a challenging way to live, and a worthy way of life to reflect on in the season of Lent.

What would your life, your relationships begin to look like if you practice “Do good to all as often as you can…” in daily life circumstances?

Jesus identified himself as “one who serves” and called his followers to take up their cross for his sake; at the very least this means a willingness to examine our values and our resulting attitudes to see who we include and exclude in the circle of our doing-good-ness, and who we leave out.

May we take a few moments now to look at our lives and our relationships in relation to both the gospel and the first Wesleyan two rules for faithful Christian life: Do no Harm; Do Good…

Prayer

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
March 1, 2009
First Sunday in Lent

Communion Meditation: Do No Harm

Last Sunday when I asked the congregation if anyone could name one of John Wesley’s Three Simple Rules for faithful Christian life no-one knew to what I was referring.

So I decided Lent is an appropriate time to reflect together on John Wesley’s three rules, and see how they apply to our lives today.

Although he lived more than two centuries ago, John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, lived in times not unlike ours.

Faced with abject poverty, low wages and high unemployment, much of England’s working class were caught in the throes of addiction to alcohol, insurmountable debt to the wealthy bankers and entrepreneurs, and poor educational or medical opportunities; Debtor’s Prison was a very real and grim reality in Wesley’s day.

From its’ birth Methodism has focused upon a balance of community worship, personal faithfulness, and practical ministry to all persons.

When Methodists visited the prisoners they did not go only with prayers; they visited with blankets and food.

Methodists went to the opening of the coal mines to provide help with medical and educational as well as spiritual help.

John Wesley both anticipated and lived times like these, and he knew that every one of us needs help to sustain a spiritually alive and growing faith.

Wesley understood that well-intentioned people could have all of the administrative systems, rituals and traditions of the Church in place yet still not understand the gospel and the spiritual practices Jesus lives and teaches that can transform life.

He was dedicated to helping persons develop the spiritual practices that lead to faithfulness as disciples of Jesus, and outlined them in what are known as “The General Rules” that became the center of the classes, or small groups that comprised the early Methodist movement.

The first of these General Rules is, “Do No Harm.”

It sounds simple.

In John Wesley’s words, the definition of this is, “Do no harm, by avoiding evil of every kind, especially that which is most generally practiced.”

I suppose we could discuss what the most prevalent evil in our contemporary culture is, but we would probably come closer to agreeing upon what constitutes “harm” in a general sense.

Defining and coming to grips with evil is the very first thing Jesus needed to do, and he returned from this time away to teach and live a ministry of doing no harm, doing good, and staying in love with God.

As United Methodist Reuben Job puts it, “What would it mean if we took this first simple rule seriously? First of all, it would mean an examination of the way we live and practice our faith. And if this examination were thorough, it would surely lead to a change in how we practice our faith. To do no harm is a proactive response to all that is evil- all that is damaging to humankind and God’s creation, and ultimately, therefore, destructive to us. [“Three Simple Rules” pg. 30]

“IF I am to do no harm, I can no longer gossip…I can no longer speak disparagingly…I can no longer diminish those who disagree with me and must honor each as a child of God” [ibid. pg.22]

I believe that in an abstract way we can understand these things, but they become more difficult when our emotions are involved, and as we grow up and older, we have so many more emotions tied to so many things it becomes more difficult to do no harm without help.

Whether we are speaking of our public opinions concerning our culture, or intimate personal relationships, we need some help in putting “doing no harm” into practice.

Reuben Job goes on to say, “When I am determined to do no wrong to you, I lose my fear of you; then I can see and hear you more clearly.”

I thought of this statement often yesterday as I participated in a Reconciling United Methodist workshop in Eugene, Oregon with Deborah, and Toyomi.

We were talking up an important upcoming vote at this June’s Annual Conference.

Like all churches, we live according to a set of rules and guidelines; in our case we live within a ‘democracy’ in that we vote about how we live together as a denomination following Jesus.

Next Annual Conference we will vote about how we invite people into our churches, and how we define membership.

The workshop I attended was to help pass a constitutional amendment that eliminates a list of who is welcome with the simple language that, “all persons are invited into church membership.”

While this might sound simple enough, there are those who would rather practice exclusion of various groups, especially members of the LGBT community.

I thought about how we do exclude one another, over many things- focusing upon the differences between us and what seems to divide us rather than the kind of “doing no harm” Jesus and Reuben Job encourage us to follow as faithful disciples.

As I listened to many speakers yesterday, I was reminded of these two reflections from , “Three Simple Rules”. I invite you to reflect upon each of them in preparation for the sharing of Communion together.

1. The louder our voices and the more strident our rhetoric, the weaker and more wounded we ourselves become. Our witness to the redeeming love of God loses its’ authenticity and its power as our unwillingness to be reconciled continues.

2. It is a challenging path to walk. Yet, even a casual reading of the gospel suggests that Jesus taught and practiced a way of living that did no harm. His life, his way of life, and his teaching demonstrated so well this first simple rule…[this practice] is that we are formed and transformed to live as Jesus lived. And this personal transformation leads to the transformation of the world around us as well. As two people in a long and successful marriage begin to think, act, and even look like each other, so those who practice this simple rule begin to think, act, and perhaps even to look like Jesus. It is a gigantic step toward living the holy life that brings healing and goodness to all it touches.

May we pray to take this step today as we gather at the Communion Table, in Jesus’ name, amen.

Prayer

Epworth United Methodist Church
Rev. David Weekley, Pastor
02-22-09
2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Mark 9:2-9

Two Ways of Seeing

Last Thursday our Bible study class included a discussion about these verses from the gospel according to Mark.

It was helpful to set the stage and talk about the expectations of those times as we listened for the meaning of these verses for our lives today, so I will take a few moments to do the same thing this morning.

In Mark’s gospel, Peter, James and John are often singled out as recipients of special teaching and time alone with Jesus.

The story of the Transfiguration of Jesus is one example of this sense of an “inner circle;” perhaps those whom Jesus would rely upon more than others to spread his message, example, and teaching.

On this particular occasion Jesus has taken these three disciples with him on a trip up the mountain.

Suddenly, while on the journey together, everything changes while they are there.

The gospel of Mark reports it: “And suddenly, Jesus was transfigured before them, and his clothes became white, such as no one on earth could bleach them…And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus.”

In our class we discussed the significance of Elijah and Moses: Elijah represented the line of the prophets; one so holy that he was taken from this earth without death, and we sing of this story in that classic gospel hymn, “Swing Lo, Sweet Chariot.”

Moses represents the Old Testament Law, for it is Moses, reluctantly following God’s insistent leading, who led the enslaved Hebrew people from captivity in Egypt through the desert wilderness and to the edge of the Promised Land before his death; it is Moses who went up to the mountaintop prior to this trip by Jesus, Peter, James, and John.

It is Moses who returned from that journey with a set of laws we know as The Ten Commandments.

Now, Jesus has journeyed up to the mountain top to receive, and ultimately to become, God’s New Law.

While gathered there with his closest disciples a “Theophany” [i.e. a manifestation of God] takes place which all three experience together.

The emotional impact is so great that Peter blurts out something completely absurd like, “It’s a good thing we’re here with you. Shall we build three shrines to mark the occasion?”

The whole focus of the experience for these three disciples comes in the next verse; this is a holy voice, a voice that came from something like a cloud and it said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”

The next thing they knew, it all disappeared and they were these on the mountaintop alone with Jesus, and he instructed them not to talk to anyone about it until after his death and resurrection, two events they did not and could not comprehend until after they occurred.

Do you ever wonder what Peter, James and John were thinking about on the way down the mountain?

Something surreal had happened to them with Jesus on the mountain and they could neither explain it nor express it to anyone else.

Sometimes I wonder if the power of what happened became diluted over time, because according to the gospels, Peter still denied Jesus three times on the night of his arrest.

Spiritual experiences are not always easy to either identify or hold on to over time.

I wonder if in our lives we also have these experiences and then dismiss them when they do not ‘pan out’ to our expectations or repeat themselves upon our command.

In the religious classic, “The Varieties of Religious Experience” by William James, he notes that many people either dismiss or give up on religious experiences in their lives because they are so unlike the rest of human life.

Religious experiences are not tangible; they are often not logical; and they are not repeatable- at least not at human whim.

Still, the vast majority of people William James interviewed two centuries ago, and people interviewed in this early twenty-first century report some life experiences they describe as spiritual or religious.

From time immemorial there has been a great divide between those who profess to have these types of experiences, and those who do not believe in them.

This may be a chasm impossible to close in this life, and it certainly will not matter in the next.

Still, many people, such as William James, assert there is a vast difference in the quality of life lived “living as if” religious experiences are real.

As Evelyn Underhill once observed, “For lack of attention, a thousand forms of loveliness elude us every day.”

As I watch the news and listen to conversations on the streets around me it seems loveliness is often difficult for people to perceive, especially in such difficult economic, political, and social times.

In times like these it seems most logical to remember something like this story of the Transfiguration, and to take hope from it in knowing that we, too, are being transformed through the grace of God as we follow Jesus Christ.

But sometimes, especially in such trying and difficult times, it is harder to remember and to rely upon intangible hope, and spiritual hope is elusive; as elusive as the sudden disappearance of Elijah and Moses on that mountaintop.

This is one reason God reminds us to engage together in worship, in prayer, in study and in community life.

We do help one another maintain strength and hope in the face of everything life bestows upon us, things we label both good and bad.

Together, we can and we do remind one another of the God who has created us and who continues to transform and transfigure us in and through the mountains and valleys of our lives.

Someone recently asked me to recommend a Bible study for a small group, perhaps a home-based small group.

I have looked at a lot of books and given the matter considerable thought.

Last week-end while in the Seattle area at a workshop, I saw a book that intrigued me.

I finally purchased it.

It is a small, thin book by Rueben P. Job called, “Three Simple Rules: A Wesleyan Way of Living.”

This is the book I would recommend for study.

It is based upon John Wesley’s three simple rules for a spiritually based and faithful life:

1. Do no harm

2. Do good

3. Stay in love with God

These rules sound so simple, yet they are so complicated and demanding to follow through with in daily life.

Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, and once again we are invited to a time of intensified reflection upon our spiritual lives, our journey with Christ.

I invite you to take these forty days to prayerfully consider where you want God to transform your life, and how you will follow Jesus up the mountain so that transformation might take place.

In “Three Simple Rules” the first rule, Do No Harm is explained in detail.

This may be a good beginning place for our personal transformation to become more like Christ.

Over these next few weeks we will explore these three rules together in worship.

Where will the journey take us?

Well, I like to think it is something like this story by British writer and humorist Max Beerbohm called, “The Happy Hypocrite”:

The main character is a well-known self-centered individual named Lord George Hell.

After many years overindulging in “the flesh”, Lord George Hell is a wreck of a man, with a bloated and unhealthy looking face and body.

One day Lord George meets a wonderful woman with whom he falls in love; he wants to marry her and change his life, but knows that if she knew the truth of his identity she would reject him.

There’s an element of magic in this story, however. Lord George Hell finds and puts on the mask of a kindly saint, to hide his sinner’s face. As far as anyone can tell, he is a kind and saintly man. He courts the woman he loves, and marries her. They live happily for many years.

Then one day, a woman from George’s past arrives. She is not fooled by the mask. She knows the man underneath it, or thinks she does.

In the presence of George’s wife she confronts him and rips the mask off.

Behind the mask, however is now the face of a true saint- the saint Lord George Hall had become be wearing the mask every day.

May we likewise wear the mask of Christ each day in our world until we, too, become what we wear.

In Jesus’ name. Amen.