Hopeful Anticipation (Advent 1)

Isaiah 2: 1-5
Roger Lynn
November 29, 2020
1st Sunday in Advent

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Watching! Waiting! Preparing! Anticipating! These are the themes of Advent. This is the season of the Church Year when we turn our attention to new beginnings. In this moment, as, indeed, in every moment, we stand at the edge of something utterly new – long yearned for but beyond our capacity to enact. Advent invites us to awaken from our numbed endurance and our domesticated expectations as we consider our life afresh in light of the unfettered possibilities of a God-centered and God-powered life. Advent is a time to remind ourselves of the promises which God makes. We are challenged to give ourselves over to a vision of a healed alternative for the world. We are invited to look forward to a bright and bountiful future, not because of what we hope to accomplish on our own, but because of what we trust that God can accomplish in us, through us, and with us. The Church at Advent watches, and waits, and prepares, in order that we might notice where God is already acting in our lives and in our world – bringing justice and peace and wholeness. In these days so filled with upheaval, strife, and despair, Advent is a season of hopeful anticipation.

“In days to come...” declares the prophet Isaiah. He proclaims a vision of life which is centered on God – a time characterized by radical justice and even more radical peace. When the world is whole in the ways God intends, then hostilities cease, prosperity abounds for everyone, and people experience safety and security. Isaiah does not even attempt to predict when this time will come, but he declares with unshakable confidence that it will come to pass. His confidence is certainly not based on anything he sees going on around him in the world. His vision will not become a reality simply because enough people decide to work hard enough. Isaiah’s trust is firmly rooted in the God who stands behind the promise. It will happen because God declares that it will happen.

Having said that, however, it is also important to note that Isaiah’s vision requires the participation of we human beings. God may be at the center of the vision, and God may be the source of its fulfillment, but the people must be open to this new life which God offers. God invites and God empowers, but we must be willing to be transformed, and we must be willing to participate in the transformation of the world. God’s peace can be fully realized only when our swords are beaten into plows, and God will not do the beating.

Such a vision was no more practical in Isaiah’s time than it is in ours. Conflict, violence, and war were as prevalent then as now. I’m sure that Isaiah was as tempted as we are to simply write the whole thing off as unrealistic foolishness. But he did not give in to such temptation, and neither should we. Just because such a radical vision of peace and wholeness seems out of reach in our current historical context (or any historical context for that matter), should we then abandon all hope and fall into resignation and despair? We are people of faith who claim to believe that God is more than we can see or even imagine. We dare to trust that God can, will, and does bring transformation to our lives and to our world. And just because the path promises to be long and difficult does not mean we should avoid beginning the journey. Just because we have attempted the path before and failed does not mean we should resist trying again. If not we who already claim to live by faith, then who will dare to step out on such an audacious journey? If not now, when the world cries out for peace and wholeness in so many places, then when will be the right time?

So, as we begin this journey through the season of Advent, it is good that we find ourselves confronted by this radical vision of what life can be like when it is centered on God. And having encountered such a vision, the appropriate response is to open our hearts and allow our lives to be guided and shaped by it. Let us be God’s people who experience life with hopeful anticipation of what God is already doing in the midst of us. And let us be God’s people who strive to actively participate with God in such works of transformation. In the words which Isaiah uses to address the people of Israel, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” Amen.

Thankful in Everything? (a Thanksgiving sermon)

Philippians 4: 4-9
Roger Lynn
November 22, 2020
Thanksgiving Sunday

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I don’t know how many times I have read the passage from Paul’s letter to the Philippians that we heard read a few moments ago, but it’s a lot. Part of it is even a camp song (and now, if you know it, it will be stuck in your head for the rest of the day)! I’ve preached on this text at Thanksgiving time on several occasions, but never before have I done so in the middle of a global pandemic when the infections and the deaths keep climbing. Never have I done so in the days leading up to a Thanksgiving when millions of people will be making alternative plans which will not include getting together with family and friends. And so I find myself pondering one particular phrase in the midst of this passage, and wondering if it even makes sense under these circumstances. “...in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” (Philippians 4:6) How can Paul possibly believe that it is possible (to say nothing of desirable) to be thankful in all circumstances? But there it is, right in the middle of what we Christians call “the Bible.” “In everything,” Paul writes. And it’s not like Paul was some naïve, sheltered, never-had-to-face-any-hard-stuff sort of guy. This is the man who was beaten, and arrested, and thrown in jail, and shipwrecked, and run out of town on more than one occasion. It’s that man who writes, “...in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.” Thus I find myself pondering what Paul might have had in mind when he wrote those words.

And then I notice a small, seemingly insignificant word that might help me to understand. “In” everything! Paul doesn’t say “for” everything. He says “in” everything. I don’t believe he is advocating a Pollyanna-ish, rose-colored-glasses approach to life. He’s not telling the folks in the church at Philippi to just smile and pretend that everything is wonderful. What he is suggesting is something honest, and hard, and potentially life-changing. It requires that we gain a wider, deeper, fuller, richer perspective of life beyond just whatever circumstances we are facing in any given moment. Those circumstances are real, and they may very well be challenging and painful. We are not being asked to deny that reality. I believe what Paul is asking us is to remember is that in the midst of whatever is happening around us there is more. There is a larger picture into which our current circumstances fit. That perspective can be difficult to see at times. In one of Carrie Newcomer’s songs she talks about walking through life with a small flashlight. Often we can only see what’s right in front of us. It can be challenging, but it’s not impossible.

Paul reminds the Philippians that God is near. He reminds them that in whatever circumstances they find themselves they are not alone. He invites them to pay attention to the good that is around them. In the midst of whatever they are facing gratitude is possible – not necessarily gratitude for the circumstances themselves, but for the gifts which can be found even in challenging times.

During the dark days when Veronica was in the hospital, and then after she died, I experienced so much grief and pain there were times when I could barely function. But what I came to realize later was that the gift of gratitude had also been present, helping to guide me out of the darkness and back into the light. I was not grateful for the loss, but somehow, through a gift of pure grace, I managed to learn how to notice the things I could be grateful for. I was surrounded by love and support. I was not alone. My needs were met. There were lessons learned. My heart was not just broken – it was also broken open in profound new ways. The gratitude I learned to experience didn’t change the circumstances. Veronica was still dead and I was still devastated. But it transformed how I experienced those circumstances. Gratitude made it possible for me to survive and even learn to thrive.

Paul invites the Philippians, and through them he invites us, to be thankful “in” everything. Because no matter what is happening in our lives, “everything” always includes more than we can see in any given moment. God is always present – even when we are in so much pain we can’t remember to notice. We are cared for – even when it feels like we are alone. When we engage in the practice of gratitude, and it most certainly is something we have to practice, we open ourselves to the possibility of becoming aware of the larger picture. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, Paul tells the Philippians, and eventually you will arrive at the place where you’ve always been – right in the very heart of God’s peace and presence and care.

So this Thanksgiving, when so much about our lives and our world seems to be filled with such chaos and upheaval, I invite you to spend some time practicing gratitude. Not to deny the present circumstances, but to remember that there is more to life than just these present circumstances. There is always more. And remembering can make all the difference. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Keep Reaching Out with Our Giving (a stewardship sermon)

Isaiah 58: 6-8
Roger Lynn
November 15, 2020
Stewardship Emphasis

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Last week I preached a stewardship sermon and barely even mentioned money. Yeah, I know – weird, huh! Well, you can relax because I plan to make up for it this week. But you still don’t need to run for the exits (or shut off your computer, as the case may be). Talking about money in church need not be tedious, or demanding, or any of the other things that so often come up in people’s minds when the topic is mentioned. Giving (or sharing) actually appears frequently within the pages of scripture. Even Jesus mentions it. Often such references don’t specifically include money, but that is because the Bible was written in other cultures at other times when there were various methods by which transactional arrangements were made. In a largely agricultural context, for instance, where barter was a primary means of exchange, money could easily be less important. Different forms for different circumstances.

So it can be helpful to take a step back and begin by looking at the underlying message. In our scripture text for today, for example, (which you may recognize from last week), we hear encouragement to work for justice, to stop oppression, and to end hunger, poverty, and homelessness. Similar messages can be found throughout the Bible. I suspect that most, if not all, of us would find these things to be admirable and worthy goals. And in this passage from Isaiah there is no reference to money. The means by which these admirable and worthy goals are to be achieved are not stipulated. In some cultural contexts they could, perhaps, be accomplished with little or no use of monetary currency. That is not, however, our particular cultural context. For those of us who live in the United States of American in the year 2020, money occupies a central place in terms of how we get things done. This is not because our money has some sort of intrinsic value. The paper on which a dollar bill is printed is not “worth” a dollar. And most certainly this is even more dramatically true for the electronic signal used when I spend $100 at some on-line business by clicking on a digital button. We all know this, but it’s easy to forget. Our money is an intermediary stand in for other things we value – our time, out talents, our treasure. If someone earns $10/hour at their job and then goes to the grocery store to purchase $10 worth of food, what they are really doing is exchanging an hour of their time for something to eat.

So, back to the matter of talking about money in church, what we’re really talking about is something larger than dollars and cents. When we hear the words of Isaiah about working for justice, and stopping oppression, and ending hunger, poverty, and homelessness, and we say (either individually or as a congregation) that we want to take those words seriously and start doing something towards making them a reality in our world, then that conversation is almost certainly going to include a discussion about money. Clearly there are things we can do towards ending hunger that don’t involve money. There are people in our congregation, for example, who volunteer their time at Food Share. The same could be said for all of the other things on Isaiah’s list. When I attended the Black Lives Matter rallies earlier in the year I was, in my own way, working for justice, and it didn’t involve making a financial contribution. But there is so much that needs to be done in all of the areas which Isaiah mentions which requires enormous and specialized attention beyond our individual capacity to address. And so we pool our resources to more efficiently and effectively meet the needs. We give money (a representational substitute for our time and talent) so that experts can be hired and commodities can be purchased on a scale that can actually get the job done. 

Our stewardship theme this year is “Keep Reaching Out.” As I mentioned in my sermon last Sunday, I believe that reaching out is built into the very fabric of our being. The drive to connect with the world beyond the boundaries of our own skin is a vital part of what it means to be human. It is part of what it means to be created in the image of God. In the creation story which appears in the second chapter of Genesis, God says, “It is not good that the human should be alone.” We are created to reach out and share connection with the world around us. We are created to care about each other and make a positive difference in the world. When we deny and ignore this aspect of our divinely created nature, we end up living diminished lives.

One of the ways in which we can extend our reaching out beyond the length of our own arms is when we make financial contributions to organizations (like Plymouth Congregational Church) who use our gifts to work on our behalf for causes we believe in. Some of that happens locally. Your financial support allows us to maintain our building. Even in these past nine months when much of our facility has been shutdown there has still been mission and ministry occurring through our building. Children have been cared for in the daycare, now under new management. Alcoholics Anonymous has been able to meet and support sobriety and healthy living for its members. Worship on the lawn (for both Plymouth and the Unitarians) was able to occur in support of people’s spiritual well-being. In addition, we use our collective financial resources to support the work of other agencies in town, including God’s Love, Food Share, and Family Promise. This worship service right now, being streamed on-line through YouTube, is made possible because of your financial support. When the Covid-19 crisis is over and we return to a more “normal” schedule of activities at the church (Bible Study, fellowship events, worship, etc) there will be even more need for available funds, including an expanded and enhanced capacity to stream our services, because we have discovered that we are reaching people who we would not reach otherwise. Some of the work we support happens nationally and globally. Because we are a part of the United Church of Christ denomination we join forces with other UCC congregations by contributing to the work that is accomplished through funds such as Our Church’s Wider Mission (OCWM) and One Great Hour of Sharing. In this way we seek to make a difference in our community, our country, and our world.

If you believe that working for justice, stopping oppression, and ending hunger, poverty, and homelessness are worthwhile causes to support, and if you believe that Plymouth Congregational Church is working on your behalf to promote those values, then I encourage you to reach out through your giving to support us. If you believe that sharing the gospel message of God’s all-inclusive and compassionate love is a worthwhile endeavor, and if you believe that Plymouth Congregational Church is actively engaged in that undertaking, then I encourage you to reach out through your giving to support us. If you believe that the work we do together here at Plymouth makes a positive difference in your life and in the lives of others in our community and in our world, then I encourage you to reach out through your giving to support us.

Stewardship is about everything we do, with everything we have, and everything we are. It will include getting actively and personally involved in a direct and hands-on way. And it will include supporting the larger work beyond ourselves with our financial contributions. I encourage you to be prayerful and intentional in deciding what stewardship looks like in your life. How will you support the things you value and believe in? How much of your time, talent, and treasure will you contribute to support that work, either directly or through your financial gifts? I invite you to keep reaching out, with your living and your giving, so that together we can continue to make a difference in our world. Keep reaching out. Amen.

Keep Reaching Out With Our Living (a stewardship sermon)

Isaiah 58: 6-8
Roger Lynn
November 8, 2020
Stewardship Emphasis

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Sometimes reaching out can seem counter-intuitive. In these days filled with so much separation, isolation, division, hate, and fear, it is tempting to just shut down. A verse in one of Dan Fogelberg’s songs gives expression to this temptation.
“Gonna pull in the shutters
On this heart of mine
Roll up the carpets
And pull in the blinds
And retreat to the chambers
That I left behind...”
(from Heart Hotels by Dan Fogelberg)

It’s tempting, but that path will not ultimately serve us well because we are made for something more. As I said at the end of my sermon last Sunday, “We are created for community. We are created for equality. We are created for connection.” And finding the path that will lead us to community, equality, and connection requires that we reach out beyond ourselves. It means expanding rather than contracting. When we reach out beyond ourselves we begin to live into the fullness of who we truly are – human beings created in the very image of God!

I have heard it said that some of the largest living organisms on the planet are a field of mushrooms and a grove of aspen trees. They look like a collection of individuals, but in reality they are all connected. I believe that the same thing can be said about humanity. Our separateness is an illusion. One of the great spiritual mysteries is that we are all One – connected in ways which we are only beginning to discover and understand. When we practice reaching out beyond ourselves, even when it seems counter-intuitive, even when it frightens us, we begin to open ourselves to this larger reality.

The scriptures are filled with variations on this theme. Our reading from Isaiah calls us to work for justice, to free the oppressed, to feed the hungry, to house the homeless, to clothe the naked, to stop hiding ourselves from each other. And then we are reminded that in so doing our own light begins to shine, our own health is restored, and we begin to experience the very presence of God in our lives. In the Gospels we find Jesus saying much the same thing. The Apostle Paul describes the Church as the Body of Christ – each of us sharing our own unique gifts within the larger context of a connected whole.

This great truth is active and present, whether we reach out beyond ourselves or not. We are still connected. We are still surrounded by love and grace and wholeness and Sacred Presence. But many of the benefits remain largely unrealized until we begin to open ourselves to this wider reality.

So what does this look like? How do we go about taking this step and making it happen in our lives? It will look different for each of us, because even though we are all connected we are not all the same. We will each reach out in our own unique ways. And it will take a lifetime to really figure out what those unique ways look like. But just because it will take a lifetime doesn’t mean we can’t begin now. We make it happen in our lives by deciding to begin, and then taking a step in that direction.

If you are reaching out to God, perhaps a step in that direction will be look like setting aside time every day to pray. Or perhaps it will look like walking up onto the mountain in the morning to watch the sunrise. There is no one right way to do this. Pay attention to what your heart is telling you. Get creative. Try something. If it doesn’t work for you let it go and try something else. The journey really is the destination.

And if you are reaching out to other people (which is really just a different way of reaching out to God) it will be pretty much the same thing. Pay attention. Listen to your heart. Take a deep breath, and try something. Maybe it will be as simple as calling a friend you haven’t talked to in a while. Maybe it will be writing a letter to your congressperson and sharing what’s on your heart. Maybe it will be volunteering at the food bank, or Habitat for Humanity, or the hospital. The specifics of what this reaching out will look like are as unique as you are. One of my favorite quotes from Frederick Buechner puts it this way, “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” (from “Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC” by Frederick Buechner)

As we engage in this very spiritual practice of reaching out beyond ourselves, what we begin to discover is that in the process of making a difference in the world we ourselves our transformed. As we connect, with God and with the world, we start to connect more fully and deeply with our own God-given nature – connected and interrelated with all that is. Paradoxically, the more we reach out beyond ourselves, the more fully we become ourselves.

And just in case you forgot, this is a stewardship sermon (the first of two, actually). So, let me remind you that stewardship is about everything we do with everything we have and everything we are. We are being good stewards not just when we share our financial resources with others (we’ll get to that next week), but also when we are intentional about doing what we can to become more fully who God created us to be. Reaching out beyond ourselves to establish and nourish connections, with God and with the world, is a profoundly spiritual act of stewardship. I invite you to begin now. You’ll be glad you did.

We Are Not Alone (All Saints)

Luke 6: 20-31
Roger Lynn
November 1, 2020
The Feast of All Saints

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We are not alone! This may well be one of the most important truths for us to grasp. And yet, more often than not, we forget, resulting in so much pain and suffering. We cut ourselves off from valuable resources which could help us face the challenges of life. We start seeing other people as enemies to be subdued and defeated instead of as partners to be cherished. And all because we forget the basic truth that we are not alone.

In the very familiar Beatitudes of Jesus, rendered in this less familiar form by Luke’s Gospel, we find this truth hiding just beneath the surface. It is the understanding which gives Jesus’ words their meaning, hiding as the unspoken phrase attached to both the blessings and the woes. How can it be that the poor, the hungry, the grieving, the persecuted can understand their lives as blessed? It becomes possible if you added the phrase “because you are not alone” to each of the descriptions. “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh, because you are not alone.” The blessedness is not determined by the outward circumstances, but rather by the sense of connection with God and with each other. Whatever comes our way, we can face it when we remember that we do not have to pretend to be brave and strong and self-reliant. We do not have to draw exclusively on our own resources. We are truly blessed when we catch a glimpse of the bigger picture of which we are a part.

Understanding the “woes” of the beatitudes is likewise easier if we think in terms of connections. First of all, it is important to understand that these do not represent God’s condemnation. They are not judgments. They are warnings. If you continue down the path you are on, you are going to be in trouble. Not because God wills it to be so, but simply because that’s the way life works. And so, having said that, how is it that being rich, or well-fed, or happy, or respected is cause for warning and concern? This is the flip-side of the blessings, and again an unspoken phrase assists us in our understanding. This time the phrase is, “if you think you are alone and don’t need anyone else.” “Woe to you who are rich, if you think you are alone and don’t need anyone else, for you have received your consolation.” When we get caught in the trap of thinking we are self-sufficient, we cut ourselves off from all the benefits of being connected to God and each other. If meaning and purpose and comfort and strength for our living extends no further than our own skin, then we are in for hard times indeed. How will we cope when the money runs out? What will we do when the grief comes? Where will we find the strength to go on when someone we count on lets us down? We are not alone, and life simply works better when we recognize that truth and begin to embrace it.

The Sufi poet Hafiz had some fun playing with this notion in one of his poems.

Resist the temptation to lie

By speaking of separation from God,

Otherwise,

We might have to medicate

You.

In the ocean

A lot goes on beneath your eyes.

Listen,

They have clinics there too

For the insane

Who persist in saying thing like:

“I am independent from the

Sea,

God is not always around

Gently

Pressing against

My body.”

(from The Gift by Daniel Ladinsky)

When we forget that we are connected to God and to each other, it doesn’t change the ultimate reality of the  world. God is still all around us. We still have deep-rooted ties which bind us together with every other person on the planet. But we start acting and reacting as if it weren’t true. We suffer needlessly and in our pain often contribute to the suffering of those around us. And so, from time to time, we pause to remember our connections. When we celebrate the ancient Church tradition of the Feast of All-Saints, we intentionally draw our attention to what the writer of Hebrews called “so great a cloud of witnesses” – all those who have gone before us but are connected to us still. We remember that we are not alone. We savor the divine heritage of every human being who ever has or ever will live – that we are one with God and thus we are one in God.

We are not alone, and only when we really remember this truth does it become possible to begin living into the reality of Jesus’ words which follow the blessings and woes. “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.” (Luke 6:27-31) Living with people as if we are connected, rather than separate. As if we truly matter to each other. As if we have access to resources greater than our own. Not to be submissive and subservient, but to be equal and connected. Walter Wink did some work with this text and offers a helpful understanding of what Jesus was saying. So often the words about turning the other cheek and giving up your shirt have been taken as advice to be a doormat. Dr. Wink suggests that it is, in fact, advice about creating equality. In the ancient culture of the Mediterranean region, you struck an inferior with the back of your hand, and would only strike an equal with the palm of your hand. So if someone backhands you as if you are inferior, and you turn the other cheek, thus forcing them to use the palm of their hand, it is saying, “I will meet you here as an equal.” To give up your shirt as well as your coat is to be naked before the other person, and in that ancient culture it was the beholder of nakedness who bore the shame.

We are not alone. We are created for community. We are created for equality. We are created for connection. And when we remember to live that way, we are most certainly blessed.