Let me see

“What do you want me to do for you?” The blind man said to him, “My teacher, let me see again.”

In 1779, a new hymn book was published in rural England. At a time when printing was not easily accessible, it was not uncommon for a local congregation to publish its own hymnal for Sunday use in that church. But this hymnal contained a special hymn that would eventually become so well known that it is estimated to be performed 10 million times per year.

This hymn was written by John Newton, who was raised without any particular religious conviction. His life took many twists and turns based on what others thought he should do. He reluctantly joined the Royal Navy and, after leaving service, became involved in the Atlantic slave trade.

In 1748, a violent storm battered his ship off the County Donegal, Ireland, coast. So severe was this storm that he called out to God for help and mercy. Although this moment marked his conversion, he continued in the slave trade until about 1755, when he gave up his seafaring career altogether.

Newton began studying Christian theology and became an abolitionist. He was ordained in the Anglican Church in 1764 and assigned to the rural parish of Olney. While there, he met the poet William Cowper, and the two began to write hymns.

The relatively unknown hymn I mentioned earlier is Amazing Grace, and it was written to accompany a sermon Newtown preached on New Year’s Day 1773. It is unclear if there was any music that accompanied the words. It was common practice for hymns to be chanted by the congregation rather than sung to any particular tune. One of the many artifacts we have in the display case at the back of the church is a plainchant hymnal from the very early days of our congregation.

Amazing Grace was unknown until it started to be used in the early 19th century by Baptist and Methodist preachers as part of evangelization during what is known as the Second Great Awakening. America was coming to grips with the horrors of slavery and the Civil War and was looking for answers and redemption for the sins committed not only individually but nationally.

Amazing Grace is a song about redemption and forgiveness, and it reminds us that both are possible regardless of the sins we have committed. God’s All-Sufficient Grace can deliver the soul from despair if we just open our eyes.

If there was ever a time that we needed to hear the message of Amazing Grace, it is now!

Today, the writer of Mark’s Gospel introduces us to Bartimaeus son of Timaeus. This story of the healing of Bartimaeus appears in all three of the synoptic Gospels, although Mark is the only one who gives the blind man a name. Naming is important in Scripture, and we need to pay close attention to it.

Jesus and his Disciples were in Jerico, and as they were leaving, a blind man called out to him, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Bartimaeus had heard about Jesus and thought that this was his big chance to obtain his sight. Not wanting to cause a problem, those around him tried to silence him, but it only made him shout louder, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”

Jesus stops, calls the man to him, and asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus replies to Jesus, “My teacher, let me see again.” That word “again” is going to prove very important.

This passage from Mark is only seven verses long, but it is filled to the brim with meaning if we just open our eyes to see past the magic that is taking place.

This is the last of the healing stories in Mark. Healing stories, like all the miracles of Jesus, contain a much deeper meaning than we see on the surface, and this one is no exception. Typically, the person being healed is not mentioned, which usually means the story is meant for all; it is an amalgamation of healing that had taken place. This is not to say that Jesus did not heal people; rather, the Scriptures contain only a small section of what Jesus did.

The man is named Bartimaeus, son of Timaeus. The name is interesting as Bartimaeus literally means son of Timaeus. Again, it is unusual that the man is named at all, and his name is a strange Semitic-Greek hybrid. Scholars agree that this person is a reference to an actual person from history.

But is it the person in front of Jesus, or is it someone else?

Some scholars point to Timaeus in Plato’s works, who delivers Plato’s most important cosmological and theological treatise, which involves sight as the foundation of knowledge. If you have read Plato, you understand that sight was an essential part of his philosophy, and we must look for answers before we can find understanding.

But there is more. When Bartimaeus stands to walk to Jesus, Mark tells us that he “throws off his cloak.” Keep in mind that everything written has meaning; nothing is put in Scripture just to take up space. Bartimaeus not only removes his cloak but also “throws it off,” signifying he will no longer need it. He also signifies that he is throwing off all his possessions to follow Jesus. This is to remind those around him, and especially his Disciples, of the need to rid ourselves of those things that hold us back.

Bartimaeus’ response to Jesus’ questioning is that he wants to see again. So, Bartimaeus was not blind from birth but lost his sight at some point for an unknown reason. The ancients believed that there was a connection between our health and our sin. Was it something he did that caused his blindness? Was it something that someone else did that caused it?

Blindness in Scripture is often a metaphor for spiritual blindness or being blind to Jesus’ message of love and acceptance. For sight to be recovered, we must first acknowledge that we are blind, and only then can we seek solutions and healing.

But we can be blind to many things, especially things that do not directly involve us, like the suffering and pain of others. It is easy to shut ourselves up in our own world and keep others out. If we close our eyes tight enough, it will go away.

What else blinds us? There is some truth to the idea that sin can cause blindness. When we are filled with hate, we are blind to the truth. Far too often, people believe that narrative is placed before them, blinding us to the truth. When people say what we want to hear and hate the same people we hate, we become blind, and our blindness causes all sorts of problems.

But before we start to feel all righteous in our position, know that righteousness can also blind us. Just because we have the right beliefs does not give us a license to ignore or disdain those who do not. If we are to obey Jesus’ command to love all, then we have to be willing to see the other and to listen. People suffer for all sorts of reasons. We may not agree with how they express their suffering, but that does not diminish the fact that they are suffering.

Yes, our own ignorance can cause us suffering, but sometimes, we need someone to help us find our way back. Love is the best way to help someone regain their sight.

Bartimaeus acknowledged that he was blind and needed help to change his life. He acknowledged Jesus’ kingship and asked him to help him regain his sight. Bartimaeus cried out in faith and despair, just like John Newton did on the deck of that ship. In both cases, God reached out his hand and provided what was needed.

Jesus tells Bartimaeus that his “faith has made him well.” Bartimaeus received his sight but did not go away; he followed Jesus. Newton’s life was changed, not instantly, but from one of slavery to service, and that service continues to this day.

How many lives have been changed by Amazing Grace? The song is popular not only in religious circles but also in secular circles. My guess is it would be hard to find someone who has never heard the words, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” I was lost, but now I’m found. I was blind, but now I see.

What blinds us? Whatever it is, know that God’s all-sufficient Grace can restore your sight. All we need to do is ask.

Amen.

Not to be Served

Mark 10:35-45

“…but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.”

Perhaps you have heard that there is a rather important event coming up on November 5th. Although I will never tell you who to vote for, I will point out the importance of exercising that right of citizenship, and please vote. I am sure I will make the same plea in the coming weeks.

But with the election on the horizon, I have turned my thoughts to what comes after—what happens in the days and weeks after November 5th? What happens after the confetti has fallen and the speeches have been made? In every election, some win, and those, whether they choose to believe it or not, lose.

Regardless of what happens on election day or in the days after, life will go on.

It has been said that we are more divided now than we were prior to the Civil War. I am a student of that period of our history from a theological perspective, and by that, I mean what role did the church play in the events leading up to and after the war?

We are called United Methodists largely due to the split before the war. The theological and ideological split divided the church along northern and southern lines. It took only a few years to break apart, but it took more than 100 to come back together, and it is still not fully restored.

For the last couple of weeks, I have been wrestling with this question of what’s next and what our role should be in what’s next.

In Paul’s Letter to the Hebrews, he writes to the church about the type of leaders we should want and what we should be. Paul writes that the High Priest does not perform his duties for his own glory but for the glory of God, “…one does not presume to take this honor, but takes it only when called by God.” But Paul also reminds those he is writing to that the High Priest is a human and suffers from the same weaknesses that we all do, sometimes more.

Two weeks ago, I had the pleasure of participating in an ordination service in Plymouth. It has been several years since I attended an ordination service, and it was nice to be reminded of the obligation we take when we submit to being set apart for leadership in God’s Church.

The first lesson is leadership, not about us. None of this can be about us. In last week’s lesson from Mark, the Rich Young Man calls Jesus “Good Teacher,” and Jesus rebukes him. “No one is good except God,” Jesus tells the man. Jesus constantly and consistently points away from himself and towards God. When they want to make him King, he runs away. When he faces temptation in the desert and is offered everything, he turns it down. None of this is about me.

The second lesson is that to be leaders, we first have to be servants. A true leader must be willing to wash the feet of those they lead. Some of the best leaders I have had in my military service have stood beside me in the rain and mud. The leader who does not wish to get dirty is no leader, and the leader who is aloof is no leader.

Marks’s Gospel sums it up rather nicely for us today, “…but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.” And Jesus continues, “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve.” Must be a slave of who? All. Not some, not just the ones we like, but all.

Here is that radical Jesus again telling me that I have to love everyone and now serve them. This message is for us as individuals and for the church.

The church is at its best when it serves as a moral compass. I am not talking about forcing people to think a certain way or even to force conformity upon them, but rather offering an alternative and providing forgiveness and reconciliation. And doing it all with grace and love.

But the church is also at her best when she speaks the truth in love and rebukes. We must never compromise for the sake of unity. Jesus was all about bringing people together, but he was also aware that there were those who would not wish to come together.

After Jesus told the Rich Young Man that he would have to sell everything to follow him, the man turned and walked away. Jesus did not chase after him, nor did Jesus change his mind; he let the man walk away. Part of leadership is recognizing when it is time to let people go and watch them walk away. But we should never close the door because they might come back one day.

The question remains: what do we do?

Can we reconcile? Should we reconcile? Can we repair relationships? Should those relationships be repaired?

I will admit that I don’t know, but I believe we have to try.

Not too far from here, out there in the harbor, stands a light that has been warning mariners about the dangers in the area but also lighting the way to safety. A lighthouse is a symbol of hope, a sign that just past the light, we will find sanctuary from the storm, a place of refuge from all that troubles us. The church can and should be that lighthouse, lighting the way to hope in the present and the future.

The sign that stands in front of our building boldly claims that we are a reconciling congregation. That means that, as a community, we decided to come to grips with the past hurts and divisions we have caused and promise not to cause those same hurts in the future. It is a recognition that we are not perfect, but God’s all-sufficient grace will help us get there.

But if that sign is to have any real meaning, we have to live out that principle of reconciliation in all aspects of our lives as individuals and as the church. We must be willing to open our doors to all, not just some.

The twelve that Jesus picked to help him were the most unlikely bunch ever assembled. Among them was one who despised the government and everything it stood for, but their number also included a tax collector, one who represented that government.

There was Judas, who never understood nor appreciated what Jesus was doing and would eventually turn him in. My friend Peter, who was bold in his faith and proclamation of who Jesus was and is, and of whom Jesus said that his faith was like a rock, would deny Jesus to save his own skin.

The two we encountered today were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, boldly asking to be put in seats of glory. And then, when Jesus needed them most, they all abandoned him. These twelve were imperfect, but they were able to spread the message of love and acceptance to the farthest reaches of the world.

All of this is possible if we are willing to humble ourselves and be of service to others. We bring about reconciliation through love and peace, but it all begins with us and our ability to reconcile and forgive.

We have a great and important task before us, and we must be ready. Our work will not end next month; it is only beginning.

Amen

Call to Confession

2 Samuel 11:1-15

The passage from Second Samuel could be ripped from the headlines of any newspaper. We have a leader who we think is superhuman, almost Divine, who turns out to be just like the rest of us: a sinner. Remember, the Israelites believe David has been chosen by God to lead them and, as such, should be above all this petty human stuff.

The scene opens with David planning a battle. Scripture says spring is “the time when kings go to war.” But David decides it is not his place to lead his army, so he goes up on the roof of his palace. While up there, he spies a woman, reportedly the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She is taking a ritual bath for purification, and rather than look away, David decides to watch.

David sends one of his advisors to find out who she is and report back to him. He asks her to visit with him, and one thing leads to another, and the woman, Bathsheba, ends up pregnant. Now, I know it is hard to believe a leader would have an affair, but there it is.

The King sends for the woman’s husband, Uriah, one of his generals. They have a conversation about why Uriah did not go home after his last battle, and Uriah tells him that it would not be fair for him to return home while his subordinates were unable to. Uriah is a good leader, maybe a great leader, as he thinks about the comfort of those under him before his own.

As you know, I have spent most of my adult life in the military. I enlisted right out of high school and have continued with my service, with a few breaks here and there. When I was an enlisted man, it used to make me angry when we were sleeping on the ground, and the officers were on cots, having their meals served to them. The higher up the chain you went, the more privilege that position carried with it.

The best officers, and the ones we were willing to do anything for, were the ones who thought about us first. They ensured we had everything we needed or could get, and then they concerned themselves with their needs. This is a theory I have carried with me as I have risen through the ranks. Yes, being a leader has certain privileges, but with that privilege comes a lot of responsibility.

By all accounts, Uriah was this type of leader and David did not seem to understand why he did not avail himself of the privilege of his position. David’s privilege and sin led him to take the steps we read about at the end of today’s story. “In the morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it by the hand of Uriah. In the letter he wrote, ‘Set Uriah in the forefront of the hardest fighting, and then draw back from him, so that he may be struck down and die.’” Make it look like an accident.

If you are keeping score, David has now broken three of the top ten: covetous, adultery, and murder. If there were anyone in need of a confession, it would be David. But what about Uriah? This is not the last time we hear about him. Uriah is mentioned in the Gospel of Matthew, right at the beginning, in the Genealogy of Jesus. Amongst the names, we read, “David was the father of Solomon, whose mother had been Uriah’s wife.” There is no mention of the mother’s name, but there is Uriah, who was killed because of David’s sin.

I wonder if he was buried on a golf course. But I digress.

It has been said that confession is good for the soul. I have not met anyone who truly enjoys confession. No one likes to think about the things they have done wrong. It is not proper to talk about sin. We have almost removed that word from our lexicon, and we excuse sin away in ourselves and in those we choose to lead us.

When I began ministry, I was part of a church that practiced sacramental confession. Each week, I would make myself available for folk to come to the church for confession. Now, just to clear up a few misconceptions, in confession, the person is not confessing their sins to the priest; the priest is there only as a witness. We confess to God, we have been forgiven by God, and we are loved by God.

From a psychological standpoint, there is something therapeutic about admitting our faults in the presence of another human being. Having a caring person listen, perhaps offering some words of reassurance or guidance, helps us on the road to healing. In many ways, confession is therapy if the person standing with you is good at what they do.

During Lent, it was common for most people to come to confession. Before confessions began, I would mention that since there were so many people, unless there was a particular issue you needed help with, you just hit the highlights. There was one who would come every year. We would go through the opening, and then I would ask if there was anything they would like to confess. Each time, the answer was the same: no, nothing.

Confession is not easy. Admitting we have faults is not easy, but from a spiritual point of view, confession is necessary. I am not advocating confession to another person, but admitting that we are all sinners and have fallen short is the first step.

When I first came here, I got some pushback on using a prayer of confession in the service. I mean, we are good people after all; we are not sinners. The prayer sometimes involves us saying things that we feel aren’t true.

“We have not done your will, we have broken your law, we have rebelled against your love, and we have not heard the cry of the needy.”

Isn’t that a bit much? We are a loving community; we pay attention to and are engaged in missions with the needy. Why do we need to beat our chest and claim that we are not doing this when we are? Worship is supposed to be a happy experience; I am supposed to feel better about myself when I come out of worship, not worse. Let’s just skip over the whole confession thing.

Except. We do gather each week with regrets. Maybe not on David’s scale; we haven’t arranged a murder to cover up an adulterous affair. But we have occasionally wounded those we love with unkind words or hurtful acts. We have walked or driven past someone seeking something from us and pretended we didn’t see them when, in fact, we did, but we have felt helpless in the face of the systems of poverty. We come carrying burdens that sometimes feel overwhelming to us, and when all we do is set them aside while we sing praises to God, we walk away with those same burdens, guilt, and sin. That is why we need confession. Even when the words of the corporate prayer don’t quite mirror our personal experience, there is space to offer our own prayers.

The worst thing we can do is try to justify our behavior. For centuries, theologians and biblical scholars have tried to explain away David’s behavior. As one might imagine, the blame is placed on Bathsheba. They claim she was too beautiful, and David could not control himself. We find this same thinking when it comes to rules about how women should dress or how victims of rape or other sexual crimes are treated. We spin it off the man and onto the woman. This behavior is certainly something that needs to be confessed.

When we come to worship, we bring our whole selves, all of us, our wants, hopes, desires, and even our sins. What have we done, and what have we left undone? How have we used our power and our privilege? Have we built up or broken-down God’s kingdom? Have we loved our neighbor?

None of these questions is meant to make us feel bad about ourselves. When we confess, we lay our burdens down and leave them behind. Here is where we come and offer all these things to God, who loves us. Here in this place, we find forgiveness and not judgment for what we have or have not done. Here is where we can leave our past behind and start new. Each week, we have the opportunity for a do-over. We have an opportunity to ask God to forgive our shortcomings and help us do better and be better in the future. Do not let the opportunity pass you by.

Amen.

The Greatest of These

Matthew 22:34-40, 1 Corinthians 13, Romans 8:38-39
Preached at Asbury Grove; Hamilton, Massachusetts
July 14, 2024

It is lovely to be back here in the Grove. Last year, after the cottage owner’s association meeting, I fell at home and broke my ankle. I needed surgery, and then there were complications, and then recovery, rehab, physical therapy, and all the rest. I spent most of last summer in the recliner in the living room. So, it is nice to be walking and pleasant to be back here.

It is always interesting to preach in a place where one does not usually preach. I have been in my present assignment for three years. My people know me, and I know them. I know what they want to hear and what they need to hear. But when one preaches in a strange place and to a diverse audience, it becomes more of a challenge.

It is my belief that the preacher’s job is to challenge those listening, move people out of their comfort zones, and make people think. I further believe it is the preacher’s job to comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable.

When I say challenge and when I say afflict, I don’t mean insult or unnecessarily agitate, but sometimes, it happens.

It would also be malpractice for me, not to mention the events of the last 24 hours. I think we can all agree that violence is never the answer, and I am holding all of those involved, including the former president, in my prayers. My prayers are also with the family of Corey Comperatore, the 50-year-old firefighter who shielded his daughters from the gunfire and was killed. I also hold in my prayers all those injured whose names we do not know.

We may be on opposite sides on many issues, but this evil must stop.

So, it seems appropriate that my topic for this afternoon is love. Love is the only answer to many questions, and love is the way of Jesus.

But when the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together. And one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”

The Ten Commandments, as revealed to us by God and recorded in Scripture, are divided into two groups. The first group instructs us how to relate to God, and the second group instructs us how to relate to one another. Jesus taught that by loving our neighbor, we love God, and by loving God, we have no choice but to love our neighbor.

I recently saw a post about this passage on Facebook, and it went something like this: Jesus was pretty clear about who we were supposed to love, everybody including, although it does not specify so here, our enemies.

There was a response that said Jesus might have been clear, but Jesus did not say how we were supposed to love and to what degree. Now, this is tricky because, in Greek, there are no less than five words for love, all having a different degree. There is brotherly love, friendly love, and erotic love. In English, we have one word: love. The same word I use to say I love hamburgers is the one I use to say I love my spouse.

But you see, Jesus was very clear about how we are to love others and treat others. He says so right there in the passage I read: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” We are to love people as we want people to love us and treat people the way we want to be treated.

What does Paul have to say about this? Last week, I had a funeral, and the passage the family selected was from Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth. This is usually a wedding passage because it mentions love, but the family thought this summarized their brother.

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

We can say all the right things and do all the right things, but if we don’t do it with and from a position of love, it is not being done for the right reasons. We do not serve those on the margins; we do not speak up for those who have no voice; we do not feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit those in prison out of duty but out of love. Everything Jesus did, every step he took and every word he spoke from out of love. If we want to call ourselves followers of Jesus and say we love God, then we have no choice but to love.

The story of creation is recorded in the Book of Genesis. It is a story of love, but there is something interesting to look at. During the first portion of creation, God speaks, and something happens. God speaks and separates light from darkness, water from land, every plant, and every animal.

But when it comes to humanity, God does not speak; God does. Scriptures tell us that with God’s own hands, God formed humanity from the dust of creation. God formed humanity in God’s own image and likeness but did not stop there; God breathed his breath, his ruah, into the nostrils of this new creation. God’s breath, which the ancients believed was the soul, was breathed into humanity and animated humanity. No other part of creation has this intimate relationship with the creator.

In the end, God sat back, looked at all of creation, and exclaimed, it is Good!  All of it, every part of it, was and is good.

We love others because they, like us, have been created in the image and likeness of God and given the divine spark when we drew our first breath. God’s spirit lives in each of us. We are not only the hands and feet of Christ; we are the face of Christ, and we are the image of God. We have to be able to look at the other and see Christ in them

Who do we love? Try this experiment. Close your eyes and think of the worst imaginable person you can think of. It can be someone you know personally or someone from history. Picture that person in your mind. That is the person you are to love. It’s not easy, but it’s not supposed to be.

So, the other part of this is that we love because God loves us. Again, hear St. Paul.

“I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

What separates us from God’s love, nothing!

For me, it comes down to love. Is what I am preaching pushing forward this idea of love? Are my actions showing God’s love toward everyone? Do the things I say and the things I support show love or something else? Our job is to love, break down barriers, and build larger tables.

I am fond of Bishop Michael Curry, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. Bishop Curry is on a mission to show people God’s love and to show the benefits to our lives when we love.

My favorite quote, which I used to end my sermon today, is this. The way of Jesus is the way of love. And the way of love will change the world.

Let us go forth from this place, determined to change the world by loving more.

Amen.

Political Violence is Never Right

Mark 6:14-29
Preached at St. Nicholas United Methodist Church Hull, Massachusetts
July 14, 2024

This morning, I was going to begin a series on worship based on the lectionary readings from 2nd Samuel. However, the day’s events have changed my course and topic for this morning.

In my twenty years of ministry, I have changed sermon topics on at least a dozen occasions, either the morning of the sermon or while driving to the church. As I reflect on those times, all of them involved a gun.

Do I need to stand here this morning and say that gun violence has gotten out of hand in America?  Is it possible that we love guns so much we are willing to sacrifice more lives so that I can own an AR-15? What anyone needs to own a weapon like this goes way beyond my capacity to reason.

But yesterday, our love of guns and political rhetoric took an evil and nasty turn. Lord knows I am no fan of the former president, and I pray he does not get elected, but this is not the way we settle differences; we must be better than this.

I oppose the former president with every fiber of my being, but I never want to see him or anyone in his family be the target of harm. My prayer last night and this morning is for his health and safety and those injured and killed. I especially pray for the family of the shooter as they try and make some sense of all of this.

But on the other hand, I have to ask the question, are we surprised by this?  Just this past week, a right-wing activist hoping to become the former president’s “secretary of retribution,” released a “hit list” of more than 300 targets. Most names on the list are media types, politics, and judges, who all came down on the other side of where the former president lands.

But the problem is not these guys; there have always been whack jobs advocating for political candidates; the problem is those who listen to them and get radicalized to the point they feel they need to do something. So, they travel to Washington and decide to take over the Capitol building or take a shot at a presidential candidate.

I also need to say that you are wrong if you are celebrating what happened yesterday. There is nothing to celebrate, nothing at all. There is nothing remotely Christian about any of this. This is not a time for celebration; this is a time for mourning.

We also need to pause and acknowledge our grief. Grief for what we have lost and grief for what we have become. But I also grieve for the man who was killed. He was someone’s son, brother, husband, father, and friend. He was having a good time and did not deserve this, and his family did not deserve this. We are better than this. We must be better than this.

But in some sort of weird lectionary timing, we have a story this morning about another political assignation: the murder of John the Baptist. However, this story is not just about the end of John the Baptist; this story is about corruption, a leader’s corruption, and his family’s corruption. This story is about how one person would go to great lengths to silence a political foe.

As you know, John the Baptist is the cousin of Jesus. John was about six months older than Jesus; tradition refers to him as John the Forerunner. John was the one who came to announce that Jesus was coming. He lived a wild life. Scripture tells us he wore clothes of camel hair and ate whatever he could find. He called people to repentance, and, as his name would suggest, he baptized people.

But John was clear in his message: he was not the Messiah that man was yet to come. John’s job was to prepare things like the warmup act before the main band came out to play.

John had gotten himself on the wrong side of King Herod. You see, John would call people out for their behavior, and it did not matter if one was a pauper or a king; you did wrong, and John called you out for it. What was Herod’s crime? He married his brother’s wife. He divorced his wife and married the wife of his brother. By all accounts, she was willing to go along with this deal.

This King Herod was the grandson of another King Herod, Herod the Great. Herod the Great ruled over a unified Kingdom, but he divided it among his relatives when he died. Our Herod, called Antipast, was sort of a sub-king, but he wanted to restore his grandfather’s Kingdom, and it did not matter who got in his way. Herod wanted to be not only King of Jews but also known as a friend of the Romans.

Herod needed to gain the attention of Rome. After all, he was the King of a place no one had heard of and to which no one wanted to go. To be sent to Galilee meant you had fallen out of favor with Cesar. This was not a nice place to live and work. So, Herod launched an ambitious building program. He was going to make Galilee a great city, a big city, and he was going to make the Romans pay for it.

In those days, marriages were arranged to advance the family, so Herod married an Arabic Princess who would form a political alliance. But Herod fell in love with his brother’s wife and, much to the anger of the Princess’s family, divorced her so he could marry again.

The other problem Herod had was a problem of legitimacy; Herod’s family came to the throne when Marck Anthony convinced his superiors back in Rome that Herod the Great, who was not called Herod the Great at the time, would make a good King. But Herod’s new wife, who happened to be called Herodias, came from a Jewish dynastic line, so their marriage lent some credibility to his claim to the throne. This is all starting to sound very Game of Throneish to me.

As one can imagine, none of this sat very well with the Jews whom Herod claimed to rule. Although divorce was tolerated in some circumstances, this was not one of them. But what can you do about a leader who has been married a few times? The Romans liked Herod, so they looked the other way as long as he kept the peace in Galilee.

The religious writer Dianna Butler Bass summarizes what happens next. “John the Baptist wasn’t just a religious zealot who opposed divorce and remarriage. He charged Herod with ignoring Jewish law. And, in doing so, highlighted the corruption of these two idolatrous dynasties joined in this unholy matrimony. John wasn’t only attacking Herod for having sex with the wrong person (his brother’s wife) but for both being in bed with the Romans.

John didn’t accuse him of sexual immorality. By going after this scandalous marriage, John attacked Herod’s entire imperial project of collaborating with Rome while trying to gain religious legitimacy with the Jews to further his ambition. Herod could ill afford the bad publicity. The Arabic Kingdom to his south was already angry at him for divorcing and exiling their Princess; he couldn’t risk angry local Jews at the palace gates.”

Words have the power to persuade you to do things you might not otherwise want to do. This power of persuasion can be a good thing. We preachers use our words to persuade those listening to pursue a different course in their lives. My entire ministry is geared toward helping people see that we walk with Christ when we care for those on the margins and love everyone. I am unsure how successful I have been; sometimes, I feel like I have failed, but we soldier on.

Then there are those who use their power to corrupt. Those who preach hatred. Those who preach that some people are less human just because they look, act, believe, or love differently. They use their power to make us afraid of those who are different. And sometimes, their words move people to perpetrate acts of violence on those people they are afraid of.

Now, I cannot blame them; they have been repeatedly told that those who are different are responsible for their lot in life. They are the reason they lost their job or that they are coming for their job. They have been told that the ones who are different are getting stuff that they should be getting. They believe them because they have been repeatedly told that they are animals and should be treated as such. This language, this rhetoric, is the same that was used to justify slavery and the Holocaust.

The leader becomes Charismatic when they say things you want to hear, when they speak your language, and when they make you feel better about yourself. When they tell you it was someone else’s fault, you lost your job rather than the fact that you decided to try and overthrow the government rather than come to work. And sometimes, that charismatic leader gets you to drink the Cool Aide, hide in a shack in Wacco, or take revenge on their political enemies.  All the while, the leader hides, like a coward, behind their Constitutional right to say whatever they want. How many more lives must be destroyed because one man is a sore loser?

But I cannot place all the blame at one person’s feet. We did not get to where we are because of the ramblings of a failed political candidate. We got to where we are because we let it happen. I believe we got here because we stopped listening to each other and started talking over each other.

Let me say this as loud as I can: It does not matter who started it or which side began the moral decay in which we now find ourselves. What matters is that we need to be the ones to stop it. It needs to stop, and it needs to stop right now.

Now, we do not need to listen to every conversation. I will not listen to a conversation with someone who believes others are less than or deserve less. Not all points of view are equal, nor do all points of view need to be given time. Some beliefs need to crawl back under the rock they climbed out from under.

But with that said, we have lost the ability to have rational discussions. Politics has always been nasty. No one likes to see the sausage made, but at the end of the day, most politicians did what was best for the country, not what was best to get them reelected or to keep their party in power. The word politics comes from Latin, which means of the people or what is best for the people.

This afternoon, I will be preaching at Asbury Grove in Hamilton, Massachusetts. The Grove was founded as a Methodist camp more than 100 years ago. Nicky and I own a cottage there; it is a wonderful place to spend time. I was instructed not to preach about anything controversial or political. Well, try as I might, I cannot find anything in Scripture that is not controversial or political.

So here is the problem: We cannot have conversations about controversial or political topics because we have been told not to for generations. We have lost the art of conversation.

A recent law in Louisiana requires that each public school classroom display the Ten Commandments. First, the version the law requires to be posted cannot be found anywhere in Scripture. Second, why not focus on the words of Jesus rather than the words of the law?

We have not forgotten how to make laws and ensure that some people obey them; we have forgotten about mercy, justice, and, most importantly, love. Jesus said he was giving us a new commandment: to love God and love our neighbor, and yes, our neighbor included those we consider our enemies.

But Jesus did not stop there. Jesus said all the law and the prophets hang on this new commandment. Jesus’ entire ministry was about love and how to love. Everything Jesus did was from a position of love. Jesus taught that by loving our neighbor, we would love God.

The Commandments, the ones listed in Scripture anyway, are divided into two groups: one about our relationship with God and the other about our relationship with others. Love God, love neighbor. We don’t steal from those we love, harm those we love, pass legislation that harms those we love, or support people whose words and actions harm those we love.

Friends, we are in a horrible mess. It has been said that our country has not been this divided since the Civil War, a war that was fought over how we treat others. We did not get here overnight, and the Lord knows it will take a long time to climb out of this hole.

But can we decide right now that we will be part of the solution rather than continuing to be part of the problem? Can we decide that we will love just a little bit more? Rather than tell that joke, we say something nice. I do not hate those I oppose; I don’t understand them and may not like what they stand for, but I do not hate them.

Jesus was murdered for political reasons, Jesus upset the status quo. Jesus, like John the Baptist, held people accountable for their actions, but Jesus did it in a way that showed mercy, justice, and love, which upset the establishment. Jesus’ love was so radical and controversial that it had to be stopped.

Friends, love is my mission. I have this radical notion that everyone should be treated the same. I believe in a God whose capacity for love is so great we cannot understand it. I believe that God loves us no matter what and that if we love God, we will try to express that same sort of love towards others.

I am sad this morning. I had planned a sermon about the glories of worship and why we worship our awesome God, but that all changed when a misguided 20-year-old soul, created in the image and likeness of God, pulled the trigger of a gun, pointed at another soul created in the image and likeness of God.

The madness has to stop. We are better than this. Ghandi said if you want change, you have to be that change. If we want more love, we need to have more love. Let us go from this place today and love a little more.

The way of Jesus is the way of love. And the way of love will change the world. Amen.

In Weakness and in Strength

2 Corinthians 12:2-10

Amazing grace. How sweet the sound. That saved a wretch like me. I once was lost. But now, I’m found. Was blind, but now, I see.

How many times have we sung this song? If I had to guess, I would say hundreds, if not thousands. But when we sing it, do we listen to the words? Do we understand the meaning those words are trying to convey?

Written by John Newton in the 18th century, Amazing Grace appears in more than 1,200 hymnals. By comparison, “Silent Night” appears in 536 hymnals, and the great Charles Wesley hymn, “O for a thousand tongues to sing,” is found in more than 1,500. The difference is that “Amazing Grace” has transcended the hymnal, and the 1971 version by Judy Collins made the top 10 charts. No other hymn can make that claim.

“Amazing Grace” is the song most people turn to to find comfort and strength when they are at their lowest. People of all faiths know at least the first verse, and so it is often sung at ecumenical gatherings. One lasting image from September 11 is the firefighters, police, EMTs, and all the rest joining hands and hearts at ground zero and singing “Amazing Grace” together.

Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace, my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed.

This morning, we heard a portion of Paul’s letter to his Church in Corinth. The Church is divided. The people are in open rebellion against his leadership. Others have come claiming to be “super-apostles” and teaching against what Paul taught them. They have come to town, boasting of a higher apostolic authority than Paul and accusing Paul of being weak, “untrained in speech,” a slanderer, and an imposter.

Paul has a public relations problem and needs to find a solution. Paul speaks of a “revelation” he has had but cannot find the words to describe it. How can you describe the indescribable?

When Mr. Spock tries to save the Enterprise in the 1982 movie Star Trek: The Wrath of Kahn, he dies doing his duty. He is placed in a capsule and shot onto a planet. In essence, they bury him. However, in the next movie, that planet becomes the site of the Genesis experiment, and the planet and Mr. Spock are regenerated. He is brought back to life and rejoins the crew.

Later in the movie, Doctor McCoy approaches Spock and wishes to engage him in a discussion of the afterlife. After all, he has truly gone where no one had before and returned. Spock tells McCoy that having such a conversation with a common phrase of reference would be impossible. In other words, McCoy would have to die and come back to understand what Spock experienced. Paul is having the same issue. How can Paul speak about what he has seen when no one else can?

Now, I have my issues with Paul, but his humility is not one of those issues. Paul is always hesitant to talk about himself after he tells his audience why they should listen to him. He tells his story not from a position of boasting but rather from a place of grace. Paul has experienced what only a few have: spiritual ecstasy, and he is hesitant to speak about it. His reward is that he is made fun of and called a liar.

Paul tells his Church that he will only boast “in his weakness.” To an American ear, this is hard to hear. We are constantly told that we must be strong. We are the greatest nation on earth. From the time they were little boys, we were told not to show emotion; emotion is weakness, and men must be strong. Any sign of caring for others is weakness or, better yet, “woke.” We must crush our enemies at all costs.

Then along comes Paul, who says, not so fast; it is not our strength that we should celebrate but our weakness. Paul had turned the whole thing on its head! I mean, how strong can a faith be where the leader of that faith willingly dies and the ultimate prize, if there is one, is death?

What is grace?

John Wesley defines grace as God’s undeserving gift, God’s free, underserved favor bestowed upon humanity. During creation, God spoke everything into existence. God separated the light from the darkness, land and water, sea and sky, all with a word. God created every plant and animal with his voice, but when it came to humanity, God paused. God stooped down, gathered the dust of what was just created, and formed humanity. With God’s own hands, humankind was created.

But God did not stop there. God breathed God’s breath, the breath of life, into the nostrils of this new creation. Some believe this to be the soul of humanity and that one is not truly alive until one takes one’s first breath. But either way, God put God’s very breath into humankind. God created humanity with God’s own hands in God’s image. The gift of life is grace.

The United Methodist Book of Discipline defines grace as “the underserved, unmerited, and loving action of God in human existence through the ever-present Holy Spirit.”

Grace pervades all of creation. Grace is God’s presence to create, heal, forgive, reconcile, and transform human hearts, communities, and creation. Wherever God is present, grace is present.

It was grace that brought creation into being. It is grace that bestows upon humanity God’s divine image. Grace redeems us through Jesus Christ and continually transforms the whole of creation. Continually transforms the whole of creation. Continually transforms. Transformation. It is grace, God’s sufficient and redeeming grace, that will transform the world and begin with our own transformation.

Paul speaks of a “thorn in his flesh.” There has been much speculation as to what this thorn is. Is it physical, spiritual, or mental? Paul does not say what it is, but it is enough of a problem that he mentions it, and it transforms him and his ministry. In many ways, this is Paul’s weakness.

Whatever it is, Paul calls it a “messenger of Satan,” and he believes that it has been sent to him to torment him and to keep him humble. Paul says he has prayed three times for God to remove this thorn, but God replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”

Through many dangers, toils and snares we have already come. ‘Twas grace that brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home.

I do not hold to the image of a being called Satan. Is there evil in the world? Yes, there is. Are there evil people in the world? Well, that is a little more complex. Everyone is born with a clean slate, a “Tabula rasa,” and we learn everything.

At our core, humanity is good. After each “day” of creation, God stepped back and said, it is good. Humanity was included in that. What corrupts humanity is what we learn. We are not born to hate, to discriminate, to make fun of, and all the rest. All of that comes from fear and lack of understanding. So, no, there are no evil people, but there are evil actions.

The first thing evil does is divide. Evil creates an environment of distrust, which causes derision to take hold. Evil must have an enemy, something to focus on, so evil creates an enemy, usually a scapegoat to use as a way in. It might be a person; it might be an issue, but whatever it is, it will exploit it to the point of division. I might add that the problem does not have to be a big issue; sometimes, the minor issue causes the most significant division.

This is the place Paul has found himself, in the middle of a divided community. But notice that Paul comes in not as a lion but as a gentle shepherd. He does not boast of his strength but rather the opposite. Paul speaks of his weakness, and, reading between the lines a little, Paul takes the blame. Paul is the leader, and ultimately, the leader is the one responsible.

So, what does Paul do to get them back on track? Paul teaches them about humility, not humiliation but humility. Paul reminds them that they are all created in the divine image and that, at our core, we are good. No one is beyond redemption. If they have breath, they are capable of change.

Paul calls them to pray—for each other and for him—but notice how Paul speaks of prayer. Paul prays that God’s will be done. Paul is echoing the words Jesus prayed in the garden the night before his crucifixion. In the end, Jesus submitted his will to God and prayed that God’s will be done. There is power in surrender.

When we surrender our will, when we realize we don’t know what’s best in every situation, we make room for God’s grace to move in and through our lives. For us to be “conformed to the image of God’s son,” we must surrender our will so that God’s purpose for us may be fulfilled.

Surrender is not easy, and surrender is not weakness but strength.

But surrender does not mean we give up; it means the opposite: we work and work hard. We pray, and we get to work. Evil is well established and well organized, but it can be defeated, not on our own but by God. The light will prevail in the darkness.

We can never lose hope. God’s grace gives us hope. So far, we have survived 100% of our worst days, and we are still here. Jesus never promised it would be easy; he said it would be hard, but the promise is that we will never walk through it alone.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years bright shining as the sun. We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun. Then when we first begun.

Amen

When your Alma Mater Closes

On June 25, 2024, it was announced that the Board of Trustees unanimously voted to close Eastern Nazarene College in Quincy, Massachusetts. ENC is one of several colleges sponsored by the Church of the Nazarene and has operated since 1900. I am a 1992 and 1995 graduate of ENC and was a staff member for a few years following my graduation. To say that ENC put me on the path to where I am today would be an understatement.

Returning home after being discharged from the Army, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I found employment and started taking classes at a local community college. I was not the best student in high school, so my shot at Harvard had long since passed. After one semester and a reasonably decent semester at that, I applied and was accepted at ENC.

For the most part, ENC was like every other college but much smaller. I went to class and chapel, ate lunch in the café, studied in the library, and went home. I did not interact much with the community beyond those students I was in class with. The pivotal moment, the moment I can point to that changed my life, happened in January 1992.

As with any degree program, there were certain required classes, such as English, math, history, a bible class, and a class on World Missions. I resisted taking this class for as long as I could. Looking back, I believe it was God’s providence that I did wait as long as I did.

The class I needed was being offered in January. These were intensive classes that met each day for several hours. Just as I was reluctant when I stepped on campus for the first time, I entered the class with reluctance.

A Nazarene missionary home on leave taught the class on leave from the Azores. I had never met a missionary before, save the priests and nuns who used to come to the parish looking for money. The teacher, Margaret Scott, is a kind, compassionate, Spirit-filled woman who became like a second mother to me—my spiritual mother.

The class focused on missionaries in the Church of the Nazarene and their work around the world. But a more minor focus was a group of students who had traveled to Romania to work in an orphanage. I am not going to spend much time writing about their work, just to say that it spoke to me, and I needed what we later called “the Romanian Experience.”

Long after I left campus, ENC adopted the phrase “ENC makes a DIfferENCe.” It is a little play on words, but it is true. It is not the school or the campus that makes the difference; it is her students and her faculty that make the difference. One of my ENC colleagues posted about his time at ENC on Facebook, and I commented that the spirit of ENC will live on in its alums and the work that continues.

ENC set me on a path of self-discovery. I found a deep sense of spirituality in the Orthodoxy of the Romanian people and was ordained a priest in the Romanian Orthodox Church in 2004. My time in Orthodoxy brought me deeper into a progressive/liberal theological position that led me out of Orthodoxy and toward a more inclusive church. It’s amusing that it all started in a church-sponsored school that has never been accused of being progressive.

I know that not everyone has warm and fuzzy feelings about ENC and the direction she has taken in the last few years. Many longtime faculty members had lost positions, and the school doubled down on the Churches’ conservative theology. But my time there was transformative, and I will always remember my days on that campus near blue Quincy Bay.

What must I do?

Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?” “Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.” “Which ones?” he inquired. Jesus replied, “‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’ “All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?” Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth. Matthew 19:16-22

The Commandments have been in the news a lot lately. The passage from Matthew’s Gospel, as if by chance, was the scripture reading during Monday’s morning prayer, so it seemed very fitting to comment.

Jesus has just finished being challenged by the Pharisees concerning divorce. This is followed by Jesus blessing a group of children and his line about how we are to have the faith of little children, faith, as James puts it in his writings, a faith that is pure and undefiled.

Then, a man comes to Jesus and asks him what good deed he needs to do to obtain eternal life. Jesus replies that if the man wishes to be good, he must follow the Commandments. There is an assumption that the man is an observant Jew, so he certainly would know the Commandments.

The man inquired more about which ones he should follow. Jesus replies, “You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.'”

You might notice that a couple are missing. Jesus leaves out the Commandments concerning our relationship with God. No idols, keep the sabbath, not using the Lord’s name in vain, and not having any other gods. The Commandments Jesus quotes to the young man are the Commandments that regulate how humanity is to interact with each other.

However, pay close attention to the last part of what Jesus said to the man. Jesus tells him to obey the Commandments and then adds, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

The Commandments appear twice in Scripture, Exodus 20:1–17 and Deuteronomy 5:4–21, neither of which will appear on the walls of Louisiana classrooms since the legislature wrote their version. But I digress. Jesus added a commandment that does not appear in either version, “love your neighbor as yourself.” That love thing.

The man replies that he has done all of this but feels that he still lacks something and asks Jesus what that is. Jesus’ reply shocked the man: “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

Wait, following the Commandments is not perfection?  Will keeping the rules not get my ticket punched to get into heaven? Jesus, how can this be?

Jesus tells the man to sell all he has and give the money to the poor. It was not enough to sell all he had; he had to give the sale proceeds to support those less fortunate.

At the end of the passage, it is revealed that the man was rich and that after hearing Jesus’ words, “he went away sad.” The man’s possessions meant more to him than obtaining the very thing he sought: perfection.

The entirety of Jesus’ ministry has focused on human interactions and how we care for one another. For Jesus, perfection comes not only in keeping all of the rules but also in loving and caring for each other. For this young man, the thing that prevented him from truly loving others was his wealth. The question for each of us is, what keeps us from truly loving others?

Search Me

1 Samuel 3:1-10, Psalm 139

In 2018, the streaming service Netflix released a movie about a preacher his community had ostracized for the radical message of inclusiveness he began to preach. Carlton Pearson, the ministry featured in the film, claimed he heard God’s voice, and that voice gave him new insight into Scripture that was so radical for those listening that they abandoned him.

Pearson was ordained in the Church of God in Christ, an evangelical/Pentecostal denomination. He was educated at Oral Roberts University and mentored by Roberts himself. After graduating from university, Pearson would become an associate evangelist in the Oral Roberts Evangelistic Association.

1981, Pearson did what many thought was impossible: he started a church in Oklahoma where black and white folx worshipped together. This was revolutionary. He became so popular that his weekly worship services were broadcast on television. In the pre-pandemic world, a preacher being on TV was rare; now, everyone is a TV evangelist. In 1996, Pearson was consecrated as a bishop and continued to rise.

Pearson’s Church has a well-defined doctrine that states non-Christians are dammed to hell for all eternity. Unless you know a particular version of Jesus, are saved by that Jesus, and are washed in the blood of that Jesus, you are going to hell. So, it’s not only non-Christians but non-specific types of Christians going to hell.

Pearson made an excellent living preaching the Gospel of Exclusion; his Church rose to over 1,000 in attendance each Sunday. But soon, that was all going to change.

I don’t often preach and teach from the Hebrew Scriptures, but I make an exception on rare occasions like today. The lectionary gives us the call story of the young Samuel. Samuel is asleep and hears a voice he believes belongs to his master, Eli. Three times, Samuel rises from his slumber and rushes to see what Eli wants, only to be told Eli had not called him.

The third time Samuel comes in and wakes Eli, Eli figures out what is happening. God is calling Samuel, and Samuel needs to listen and discern what God is asking him to do. The people are in disarray and need someone to lead them and straighten out what has gone wrong. They have stopped listening to God and have been relying on themselves. They have been getting lousy intelligence from preachers who seem well-meaning but have been convicted 34 times for doing it incorrectly. This is not the end of these preachers; there are more than 80 more charges against them, but they continue their rise to power because the people refuse to see the truth. Hmmmm, this story sounds all too familiar.

I have mentioned this before: I am a theologian in the reformed tradition. That means that I believe that the Church needed to be reformed and continues to need to be reformed, but we also have been given a brain and the ability to discern. Freedom of thought was a significant point of the reformation, allowing the people to read, understand, and discern Scripture for themselves, with guidance from those trained for that purpose. No longer were we simply to follow for fear of going to hell.

However, the prophets and the mystics were caught up in the cleaning and reform. The Church threw out a very rich portion of her past and has been unable to recapture it. Today, when one speaks of hearing God’s voice, one is treated with skepticism, especially if it is a radical departure from the norm.

Samuel was not sure what he heard. Carlton Pearson was not sure what he heard. But they both knew they heard something and needed to discern where that voice was coming from. Just a bit of caution: God does not call one to maintain the status quo; the opposite is often true. God is calling us to something new, different, and a little scary.

One night, Pearson was watching a television news story about the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. He felt a sense of compassion for the people caught up in what was going on to such an extent that he felt a tug or a pull on his heart in a different theological direction. Pearson began to doubt the very idea of hell as a construct of God but rather a construct of humanity. He discerned that hell was not some supernatural creation but rather a creation of humanity.

Pearson’s theology, like that of most Evangelicals, is rooted in the theology of John Calvin, who says humanity is so depraved that it needed a scapegoat to satisfy God, through the blood sacrifice of his only Son, to change its ways. In other words, humanity was born in sin and has a propensity towards sin. Put this in contrast to Wesley, who believed that humankind was basically good but had lost its way, and Jesus came to show us how to get back on track through love and God’s grace.

Changing one’s long-held beliefs about anything, whether theological or political, is difficult. We need solid ground to stand on, and when that solid ground begins to shift, it shakes us to our very core.

But we do not discern on our own; Samuel needed Eli, and Pearson needed some close associates to help him.  Samuel found an ally in Eli, but Pearson had difficulty finding someone who would listen to him. The call must be tested and tried to make sure it is God and not us.

In my almost 20 years in ministry, I have encountered several people who feel they have been called to ordained ministry. God called me, and I must listen to that call. My usual response is that God calls, but the Church tests and confirms that call. We do not and should not ordain someone just because they feel God has called them. This testing, this discernment, does take and should take years because we do not want to make the wrong decision. Does that still happen, yes, it does, but we try to see that it does not.

Pearson developed the Gospel of Inclusion and stated that Jesus came to save the whole world, not just the elect. That through God’s love, mercy, and grace, all will be redeemed, and it is our job to bring God’s kingdom here to earth and not wait for God’s kingdom on some fluffy cloud somewhere. Pearson believed that Jesus came to all and for all, not just those who believed in him. This radical departure was too much for some and led Pearson to be branded a heretic by his Church and cast into the outer darkness. I know the feeling.

In a letter from Paris in 1787 to Mr. Willilam Smith, private secretary to John Adams, Thomas Jefferson wrote, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots & tyrants.” What Jefferson was saying, I believe, is that we must never become complacent; we must always be willing to look at how things can be changed for the better. Of course, Jefferson was writing about the new Constitution but the same is true in the Church.

There is an idea that the Church undergoes what has been called a 500-year rummage sale. This is the process whereby the Church looks in all the nooks and crannies to find things to give the heave-ho or to change. But change should not happen simply for change sake but should only come after periods of discernment and testing to see if the proposed change is God’s will or not. I am not talking about what color to paint the Church’s front doors, but rather theological understanding.

The point of all of this is simple: God is continuously speaking to and through the Church. The Church needs to reclaim its prophetic voice and be that voice crying in the wilderness, not to condemn but to show just how much God loves the world. The Church needs to be the voice that helps people and does not cause harm. Author and Theologian Sarah Bessy said, “People should never be the collateral damage of your theology.”

God’s voice needs to be heard, especially in our crazy, mixed-up world that we are living in now. We are bombarded with conflicting messages every day, and we need to hone our skills of discernment. Is what we hear helping or hurting? Does what we hear promote love or hate? Is what we hear from God or ourselves.

God is still speaking to us, and God is still speaking to the Church. The question is, are we listening?

Amen.

All Consuming Presence

John 3:1-17

On the Church calendar, today is set aside to commemorate the Holy Trinity. This uniquely Christian doctrine defines the relationship between God, the creator, Jesus, the redeemer, and the Holy Spirit, the sustainer. There is one argument that states belief in the Trinity is what makes one a Christian.

I agree with this but add that it is not what we believe that makes us something but whether we live by the words we believe. One can believe all the right things and say all the right words, but one’s actions will deny everything one says and believes. So, being a Christian requires more than just the correct belief.

There is no direct biblical evidence for the belief in the Trinity, but there are shadows of the Trinity in all parts of Scripture. Written into the creation story is the image of the Trinity, “let us make them in our image.” During the creation event, the Spirit hovers over the water and controls the chaos that can be found there.

Later in Scripture is the story of three guests who come to visit Abraham. This story is known as the “Hospitality of Abraham,” and the three guests represent the three persons of the Trinity. There is another meaning to this story: we are to treat all guests as special, as we never know if we are hosting angels.

Then we turn to John’s Gospel and the most poignant example of Trinitarian theology. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” In the written text, the Word is capitalized to indicate a proper name. The Word of God is not Scripture; the Word of God is Jesus. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

Jesus speaks of the relationship of the three Divine Persons but in a veiled way. The study of theology would have been much simpler if Jesus just said what he meant, but that is not the case. Jesus speaks of this relationship between himself and God and, towards the end of his ministry on earth, mentions that the “advocate” will soon come to be with them. He mentions the Holy Spirit as the Advocate, which we celebrated last week at Pentecost.

As with all doctrines, the doctrine of the Holy Trinity took years to define, redefine, and refine. I will also add that this is one of the most incomprehensible doctrines of the Church. However, it is still an important doctrine, for we learn a bit about human relationships by understanding the relationship between the three persons.

So, what is the doctrine of the Holy Trinity? Sit back, relax, close your eyes, and prepare to be dazzled by my theological brilliance.

“The Christian doctrine of the Trinity is the central doctrine concerning the nature of God, which defines one God existing in three coequal, coeternal, consubstantial divine persons: God the Father, God the Son (Jesus Christ) and God the Holy Spirit, three distinct persons (hypostases) sharing one essence/substance/nature (homoousion). As the Fourth Lateran Council declared, it is the Father who begets, the Son who is begotten, and the Holy Spirit who proceeds.”

Did you get that?

I won’t spend much time trying to unpack all that since I do not truly understand it. It is also an attempt to explain the unexplainable. I am not sure we are supposed to understand God, and trying to put human emotions and words on God only limits a limitless being.

Like most things theological, we come to this definition in reverse. The question began if Jesus was divine, and therefore God, how could God be killed on the Cross? So, theologians got together and backed into this definition. The critical thing to remember is that there are not three gods, only one. Think of it in the same way marriage changes a couple. Joined together, they are one, but they do not cease to be separate people.

Let me emphasize something I said earlier: it is not belief in doctrine that makes us Christian. How we live and what we are taught makes us a Christian. I believe that doctrine is vital as it gives us a basis for our beliefs. The creeds and other statements have been hammered out over time and are the basic beliefs, not the totality. Do you have to understand it all? No. Do you have to believe it all? No.

I am more of a Red Letter Christian than a doctrinal Christian. If you recall older versions of Scripture, the words of Jesus were printed in Red. Red Letter Christians focus more on what Jesus actually said rather than what others say he says. Go right to the source rather than secondary writings.

With all of that said, let’s look at John’s Gospel, which we heard this morning.

Nicodemus comes to see Jesus. Nicodemus is a Pharisee, a leader of the people who must be very careful in coming to see Jesus. At this point, Jesus is starting to get the leaders’ attention. This meeting takes place just after Jesus flipped the tables in the Temple, an event designed to get the attention of the authorities.

Nicodemus comes at night. He is lurking in the shadows so as not to be seen by anyone. He acknowledges that Jesus is what he says he is: God’s son. This could not have been easy for him. Nicodemus wants to learn more and understand what Jesus is all about. But he is confused by what Jesus is telling or attempting to tell him. He ends up leaving more confused than when he arrived. He must have had some understanding or at least enough that piqued his curiosity. We see Nicodemus again after Jesus’ crucifixion. Nicodemus brings the spices that are necessary for the burial rite to take place. Not only is this a significant expense for him, but he is also doing it very publicly, which shows that he believes that Jesus is what he says he is.

But the end of this passage is the most important to grasp.

We hear the famous line, “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.” As important as I believe this verse to be, it is the next one that sets the pace.

“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.”

Let’s sit with this for a moment. God did not send Jesus to condemn. Out of love, God sent Jesus not to condemn Creation but to point the way towards salvation. God could have destroyed all of Creation but chose a different path, the path of love. If Jesus did not come to condemn the world, why do we humans feel it is our Job?

I will also point out that the 3:16 line says, “But may have eternal life.” Some translations say, “Shall have eternal life.” I point this out to show that Jesus did not come to force anyone to do anything but instead pointed the way and left the rest to us. The choice is ours.

Earlier, I mentioned that Trinity is an example of how we relate to one another. The Trinity is an excellent example of what Methodists call contextualism, the idea that we are connected.

Although each of the three persons is separate, they share the same essence and mission, if you will. What joins them together and what keeps them together is love. Augustine developed this idea of the Trinity as love in the 5th century, and it is the backbone of the idea that we are to relate to one another through love.

God loved Creation so much that Jesus came, through love, to show us a different way. Because God did not want to abandon Creation after Jesus’ ascension, God sent the Spirit, who continues the work of Jesus, helps point the way, and gives us the strength to live in love as Jesus taught.

The Trinity is not about hypostasis, homousion, or all the significant theological terms. The Trinity is about love, relationships, mission, and how we are all connected to each other and all of Creation. Salvation is not an individual act, but rather, it is a corporate act. Salvation does not end when we “give our life to Christ, “find Jesus,” or “get washed in the blood,” whatever any of that means. Salvation begins and ends with how we treat and relate to one another. We are to love one another. And care for each other and Creation. The Trinity exists to show us this way, this way of relationship. God needed the other for Creation to happen. Jesus needed the others to complete his mission. The Holy Spirit continues to need the energy of others to walk with us and guide us as we live and love others.

The verse says, “God loved the world.” It does not say, “God loved individuals,” it does not even say God loved humanity, and it certainly does not say that God loved the United States of America. The verse says God loves the world, all of it.

Our “salvation,” whatever that means, is directly tied to the salvation of others because it is dependent upon how we treat the other. Believe in the doctrine of the Trinity or don’t believe in the doctrine of the Trinity; that’s not important. Living out the relational aspect of the Trinity is what’s important.

Jesus said, “love God love neighbor. On these two hang all the law and the prophets.” This was not a suggestion; it was a command.

So, go forth and love. Love God. Love all of humanity. And love all of Creation.

Amen.

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