Sunday, November 24, 2019

Abundant Living in God’s Abundant World (Thanksgiving Sunday)

Luke 17: 11-19
Roger Lynn
November 24, 2019
Thanksgiving Sunday
(click here for the audio for this sermon)

This is the week when we in this country pull out all the stops and offer expressions of thanks amidst rituals of family, friends, and food. At least on this one day of the year we pause to pay attention to that in our lives for which we can be grateful. And we celebrate with almost reckless abandon. The fact is that we live in an abundant world – God’s abundant world. I cannot prove it, but I firmly believe it to be true. There is abundance all around us. Sometimes we experience it. Sometimes we don’t. But it is always true. I am convinced that one of the primary differences between experiencing it and not experiencing it has to do with paying attention. Do we notice? Do we watch for it? Are we in the habit of being aware? The Buddhists have a practice known as mindfulness. I don’t pretend to fully understand all of what that entails, but I know that it has to do with paying attention.

The trick, of course, is to notice more often. Once a year on the fourth Thursday in November is, perhaps, not the most effective way to actually experience life’s full potential. In the book of Deuteronomy, the Hebrew people, who are about to enter the “Promised Land” receive instructions on how to make the most of the life which lays before them. They are told to eat, drink, enjoy – and remember God. It is not enough to simply enjoy the abundance which is theirs. To fully participate in the experience requires the added step of being aware of both the abundance and the source of that abundance. At one level, reality remains the same whether we pay attention or not. As the ancient Celtic saying puts it, “Bidden or unbidden, God is present.” Saint Catherine of Siena put it this way, “All the way to heaven is heaven.” Where there is God, there is abundance – and God is everywhere. But at another level, paying attention makes all the difference in the world. Or at least all the difference in how we experience the world. 

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Entertaining Angels Unawares

Entertaining Angels Unawares
Genesis 18: 1-15 & Luke 10: 38-42
Roger Lynn
November 17, 2019
(click here for the audio for this sermon)

It’s about hospitality. In one of the readings for this morning someone really “gets it.” In the other reading someone really doesn’t get. Abraham gets it. He understands what hospitality is all about. The story of Abraham and Sarah is a very ancient tale. It contains strong elements of a patriarchal society where gender roles were clearly distinct. But underneath such elements, at the heart of the story, it is about hospitality. Strangers show up at Abraham and Sarah’s home in the heat of the day and they are welcomed. Their hot, dusty feet are washed. They are offered a place in the shade to rest, food to eat, and something refreshing to drink. Even Abraham’s posture and language as he greets them demonstrates respect and honor. Abraham and Sarah understand hospitality.

A superficial reading of this ancient tale might lead to the idea that all of this was done because it was God (or at least God’s angels) who came knocking at their door. But there is actually strong evidence that a recognition of divine presence only comes later, after the hospitality has been offered. Abraham and Sarah were only doing what good hosts do – welcoming the stranger into their midst.

The story of Martha and Mary stands in sharp contrast. I know people who don’t like this story very much, because it sounds as if Martha is being chastised for doing all the work while Mary gets all the praise for doing nothing. And while it certainly might appear that way at first glance, I believe there is actually a very different story waiting to be discovered. And again, it is about hospitality. Jesus arrives at the home of Martha and Mary, who are sisters. We know from other stories in the Gospels that these particular sisters, along with their brother Lazarus, were close friends of Jesus. Martha is diligently working away in the kitchen, preparing a meal for their guest. Mary is sitting quietly at Jesus’ feet, listening to him. It would be easy to decide that Martha was contributing to a hospitable welcome for Jesus while Mary was not. But, as is so often the case, there is more to the story than that. Notice that Jesus doesn’t say anything about what she’s doing. His comments are directed at the fact that she has allowed herself to become distracted by what she’s doing. She’s lost perspective. “Tell my sister to get in here and help me!” is not at the top of the list of ways to help your guests feel welcome. 

The difference between Abraham and Martha was not in what they did. It was in the attention they gave to their guests while they did it. Abraham’s attention was on his guests. Martha’s attention was on her tasks. Even Sarah, inside the tent making the bread, was listening to her guests (she laughed at their absurd statement that she would be giving birth in her old age). Martha was too busy to listen to Jesus’ stories. 

The story is told of a woman who received an extraordinary note in her mailbox one day. “My dear friend, I am planning to stop by your house later today for a visit. I look forward to sharing some time with you. – Jesus.” Well, rather than dismiss the note as a hoax, she chose to believe that it was true, so she set about preparing for the visit. She was, to put it mildly, in something of a dither. There were groceries to buy, the rug to vacuum, dusting to do, a meal to prepare, and on and on the list went. Jesus was coming to visit and she wanted everything to be perfect. She was just heading out the door when her neighbor stopped by to borrow a cup of flour. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I just don’t have time right now. Maybe Jane across the street has some.” And off she dashed to the grocery store. On her way back to the car, with her arms full of grocery bags, a homeless man approached her asking if she had any spare change. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I just don’t have time right now. You’ll need to ask someone else.” No sooner was she back home and unloading the food into the pantry, when the phone rang. It was her sister, who was feeling a bit lost while her son was away at camp and just needed to talk. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I really don’t have time right now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” And she hurried back to her many tasks. Finally she had the floors vacuumed, the dishes washed, the table set, the meal prepared, and she sat down to wait for her visitor. And she waited, and waited, and waited. It grew later and later, and still no Jesus. At last, when the clock on the mantle chimed midnight, she breathed a heavy sigh of disappointment and went to bed. The next day in the mail came another note. “My dear friend, I’m so sorry to have missed you yesterday. I came by early, but you were on your way to the store and seemed a bit distracted. I tried to speak with you in the parking lot, but you didn’t really have time. Then I phoned, but you had other things on your mind. I hope all is well with you. Perhaps I’ll be able to stop by again soon when you have more time. – Jesus”

“When did we ever see you hungry and feed you, thirsty and give you a drink?...I tell you, whenever you did it to the lost and overlooked and ignored, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25: 37 & 40) True hospitality involves attentiveness to the guest, even when the guest is a stranger. Perhaps even especially when the guest is a stranger. True hospitality not only helps the guest feel welcome, but also sets the stage for the host to recognize the divine presence in our midst. When did you encounter God this past week? When might you encounter God in the days to come? Will you notice?

Sunday, November 10, 2019

Celebrating Our Gifts with Our Giving (a stewardship sermon)

Deuteronomy 14: 22-29
Roger Lynn
November 10, 2019
Stewardship Commitment Sunday
(click here for the audio for this sermon)

In the interest of truth in advertising, I need to let you know right up front that this is a stewardship sermon. Money will be talked about. In fact, the discussion will include the suggestion that you might want to consider giving some of your money away. For those of you who might be visiting for the first time, please know that this is not the topic of most of my sermons. You just happened to arrive on the day which fits in with the old stereotype that all churches ever talk about is money. At the same time, however, I preach this sermon without apology or hesitation. If a church is doing its job as a community of faith, there there ought to be some truth to the stereotype. We, as the church, need to be talking about anything and everything that is an important part of life, and money certainly fits that description.

So, at the risk of repeating myself, please allow me to remind you of a bit of what I said last week about stewardship. Stewardship is based on the understanding that all we have is a gift from God and as such we need to be intentional and responsible about its use. Put another way, stewardship is about everything we do with everything we have, and everything we are. This means that stewardship is about so much more than just raising money to underwrite the church’s budget. It is about remembering our connection with God and celebrating that connection. It is about appreciating the gifts we have been given and discovering ways to put them to good use. I went on to suggest that perhaps a good place to start would be to do an inventory of what we’ve been given and then celebrating those gifts. I still think that is sound advice, and I hope you found an opportunity sometime this past week to engage in a bit of life assessment and rejoicing.

At some point, however, it is not enough to simply take inventory and celebrate. As vital as these activities are in establishing a solid foundation for our living, discovering true fulfillment involves building on that foundation. There is something integral to the very essence of who we are that prompts us to reach out beyond ourselves – a reflection of the Creator, revealed in the impulse to share ourselves with the world. It is an interesting paradox about human nature that to be truly whole we must give ourselves away. 

Sunday, November 3, 2019

Celebrating Our Gifts Through Our Living (a stewardship sermon)

Deuteronomy 14: 22-27
Roger Lynn
November 3, 2019
Stewardship Emphasis
(click the "Play" button above to listen to the audio for this sermon)

I need to begin by letting you know that this is a stewardship sermon. Take a deep breath and relax. It will be over soon. And contrary to popular opinion about such matters, you might even enjoy the experience. There will be references to joy and laughter, so stick around.

Stewardship is based on the understanding that all we have is a gift from God and as such we need to be intentional and responsible about its use. This is true not just for what we give away, but also what we keep. Put another way, stewardship is about everything we do with everything we have, and everything we are. This means that stewardship is about so much more than just raising money to underwrite the church’s budget. It is about remembering our connection with God and celebrating that connection. It is about appreciating the gifts we have been given and discovering ways to put them to good use.

So, before we start talking about money (don’t worry, we’ll get to that in due time), let’s begin by talking about life. If stewardship is about recognizing all of life as a gift, then perhaps a good place to start is by doing an inventory of what we’ve been given and then celebrating those gifts. If you have ever moved, or even just cleaned out a closet or the garage, then you have likely had the same experience that I have had on more than one occasion. In sorting through all of my “stuff” I discover treasures I forgot were even there. It is a humbling experience to be reminded that I don’t always manage to keep track of or even remember all of the ways in which I am blessed. Taking inventory from time to time can be a powerful spiritual practice.