Sunday, June 27, 2021

Choose Life! (final sermon)


Deuteronomy 30: 19-20a
Roger Lynn
June 27, 2021
Final Sermon before retirement
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

Moses and the Hebrew people stood together at the edge of the Promised Land, looking into a future they could only begin to comprehend. Moses would not be going with them as they took their next steps into the future to which God was calling them. And so he sent them on their way with some final words of encouragement.

This morning we stand together at the edge of the Promised Land, looking into a future which we can only begin to comprehend. And while I do not want to push a comparison with Moses very far, like Moses I will not be going with you as you take your next steps into the future to which God is calling you. I have my own Promised Land to which I am being called. And so, on this occasion, I choose to take my leave of you with the same words of encouragement which Moses spoke all those years ago. Choose Life!

It is Life to which God is calling you – to which God is always and forever calling you – rich, full, abundant Life! And there are opportunities every day, every moment, for each of you individually, and all of you collectively as a congregation, to choose how you will respond to God’s call. Moses spoke of the choice in terms of blessings or curses. He might just as easily have said light and darkness, or abundance and scarcity, or life and death. The truth of the matter is that there is only one reality – Life! Except when we choose to close our eyes and turn away and live as if we are on our own. Then we find ourselves disconnected from that which is most Real. We close ourselves off from the abundant life which is our Sacred birthright. So choose life! Not just once, but in every moment of your living! Choose life, so that you may truly Live!

It is easy for me to offer you these words, because during the almost six years I have been with you I have watched you choose life over and over again. So I’m not really saying anything new. I really do believe that this congregation is standing at the edge of the Promised Land. God is calling you into amazing new life, with a bold and exciting mission – a ministry of witness and service in this community and in the world. And it is a call to which you have already been responding in faithful and powerful ways. My prayer is simply that you will continue to heed the call and respond with your whole heart and soul. You are like the disciples when Jesus sent them out to preach the Good News and heal the sick. They could have hesitated – afraid that they didn’t know enough, didn’t have enough, were not enough. But Jesus cut that argument short with his instructions. He sent them out in pairs and he sent them out empty handed, as if to remind them that they are not alone and it isn’t about the equipment they have. I love the way “The Message” translation puts it. “Don’t load yourselves up with equipment. Keep it simple; you are the equipment.” (Luke 9:3)

God is sending you out into the world on a mission of proclamation and service. You are called to share the good news that God is right here, right now, in the midst of us! You are called to share that message with your words, with your actions, and most importantly with your very being. It is what you do already. It is who you are already. And your ability to continue living into this mission isn’t about being big enough, or strong enough, or rich enough, or smart enough, or even faithful enough. It is about being daring enough to take the risk of being fully who you are, fully who God created you to be, in partnership with the God who is always right here with you. Don’t worry about what you can’t do. God isn’t calling you because of the gifts you don’t have. God is calling you because of the gifts you do have. And those gifts are abundant. Pay attention to what you can do, what you are called to do, what you are equipped and empowered by God’s ever-present Spirit to do. Pay attention to who you are, because you are a gift of God, and there are people in the world who need exactly what you have to offer.

You have the gift of hospitality – when people walk through your doors they are met with warmth and caring and acceptance. Please trust me when I tell you that such a gift is huge! You truly embody the phrase, “No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here.” You have been blessed with an openness of spirit and a willingness to explore new ideas and understandings. There are willing and capable leaders among you who will continue to help you live into your mission. Just remember that the ministry which happens here is everyone’s responsibility, and that includes each of you. No matter who you call to be your next pastor, the ministry of this congregation is never the exclusive domain of the pastor. It belongs to all of you.

Always remember that you are not alone – you have God, and you have each other. The Sufi poet Hafiz put it this way, “Out of great need we are all holding hands and climbing. Not loving is a letting go. Listen, the terrain around here is far too dangerous for that.” (from “The Gift” translated by Daniel Ladinsky) So remember to hold hands and stick together. And always remember – you are the gift of God that the world needs. Choose Life!

Sunday, June 20, 2021

Looking Back – Moving Ahead


Genesis 1: 1 – 2: 3 & Matthew 28: 16-20
Roger Lynn
June 20, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

My ancestors came from Scotland and France and Germany. More recently they came from Colville and Addy and Marble Valley. I don’t really know very much about them, but I do know that they were hard working folks who had a strong sense of family. Who they were and how they lived helped to shape who I am and how I live. One story which I do know about helps to illustrate this fact.

In 1885 a child was born in Lexington, Kentucky. His parents named him Charles. His mother died following the birth of Charles and his twin sister. Upon his father’s death a few years later he went to live with his grandmother, who was a devout Catholic. It was her desire that he grow up to become a Catholic priest. Had he followed through with that plan, you would not be hearing this story – for, you see, he chose instead to marry and become a part of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). A generation later, that decision led to the birth of a son, Robert Charles, who went on to become an ordained minister in the Christian Church. That son, in turn, went on to have a son who also carries Charles’ name. I stand before you today as Roger Charles Lynn – literally living a life which was made possible by the choices of those who came before me. I don’t have a strong desire to become a genealogical fanatic – but, it’s helpful to my sense of self if, from time to time, I reflect on the history which brought me to this place.

When I was in Seminary, we were required to take two semesters of Church History. I had never been a big history fan, and Church history sounded to me like a particularly boring variation on an already boring theme. Fortunately for me I was wrong. I had a professor who could make the subject come alive, and I discovered that it was not so much an exercise in studying the dead past as it was one of rediscovering the living present. The Church we know today was shaped and influenced by the events and choices and people we now study in history.

The creation story from the opening chapter of Genesis is included in the Bible precisely to offer us a sense of where we come from. The writer of Genesis made no attempt to provide an historical account of creation. Instead, it offers us a theological perspective. We are told that from the very beginning God has been present and active, working to create and sustain a world in which we might live and thrive. And we are told that our very existence is rooted directly in God, and has been shaped by the very nature of God. It is a story which tells us about God’s desires for our world and for our own lives.

Following his resurrection, Jesus met with his disciples in Galilee. The final words which Matthew records concerning that meeting hold power even after 2,000 years of re-telling. He tells them to go out and do what they had been taught to do. They were to teach what they had learned – the good news of God’s love and grace. Jesus was saying to the disciples – “Look to where you’ve been for the direction to where you are going.” In looking back, they could remember the ways in which Jesus had led them to this point, and thus have confidence that Christ would continue to be with them – even to the end of every journey.

So, what do all of these stories have in common? Why talk about my family tree and seminary requirements and one of the creation stories and Jesus’ parting words to the disciples? I believe what they all have in common is the theme of looking back and moving ahead. It is a sense of where we have come from that has nothing to do with nostalgia. We learn from our past, receive power from our experiences (both personal and collective), and are propelled forward to meet the future with a new sense of vision. Such a formula can be helpful in both our personal lives and our corporate life together as a faith community.

In terms of personal living, Frederick Buechner offers an example of this principle in the first volume of his autobiography - The Sacred Journey. In describing why he chose to undertake such a project, he writes, “My interest in the past is not, I think, primarily nostalgic...Even if it were possible to return to those days, I would never choose to. What quickens my pulse now is the stretch ahead rather than the one behind, and it is mainly for some clue to where I am going that I search through where I have been, for some hint as to who I am becoming or failing to become that I delve into what used to be. I listen back to a time when nothing was much farther from my thoughts than God for an echo of the gutturals and sibilants and vowellessness by which I believe that even then God was addressing me out of my life as God addresses us all. And it is because I believe that, that I think of my life and of the lives of everyone who has ever lived, or will ever live, as not just journeys through time but as sacred journeys.”

What shape has your life taken? How have you come to be where you are today? In the midst of your own sacred journey, where can you discern God’s hand, or God’s voice? What do these experiences say about your life now? What might they say about the direction of your life in the future? These and many other questions are worth asking.

Much the same thing can be done, I think, for our life together as a congregation. As we remember our history and reflect on it, we begin to rediscover the power and the direction by which we can truly be the Church in our community and in our world. It is a history which takes in a great many ups and downs in the lives of a great many people who have met together in Helena, Montana. But it is more than merely a collection of people and events from the past. The rich heritage of history of which we are a part has, in both obvious and subtle ways, shaped and molded this congregation into who you are today. And it is a history which will, if you allow it to do so, propel you into an exciting future.

Whether it is our own individual histories, or the history we share together, may we draw from the past to enhance our future. And whether we look back to the beginning of creation, or the beginning of last week, may we discover the movement of God’s Spirit in our lives and in our world. May we continue to share our stories with each other so that we may continue to make history together. Let us look back and move ahead – with each other and with God.

Sunday, June 13, 2021

Once Upon A Time In The World


Genesis 12: 1-9 & Matthew 9: 9-13
Roger Lynn
June 13, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)


Once upon a time, there was a man who had been born into very fortunate circumstances. He had a family who cared for, loved, supported, and encouraged him. The land in which he lived was rich with resources and opportunities. And he was free to go where he wanted and do as he pleased. The wonders of the land were beyond telling, and the wonders of the people in the land even more so. Indeed, this land contained all which was needed to live a happy and fulfilling life.

As this man grew up he began to journey around the land, and meet the people, and share in their lives. There were times when he was aware of the beauty and wonder which was all around him. There were times when he was left speechless and silent in awe. There were times when he laughed and times when he cried. And in those moments of awareness, he felt very much alive and excited and in touch with himself and with those around him. In such moments, he also had a sense of Sacred Presence. It was as if he were catching glimpses of a bigger, brighter reality, shining through a hole in the fabric of the moment.

Much of the time, however, the man was not so in tune with the land, the people, or the presence of God – he was not filled with wonder or awe or much of anything beyond the surface of things. He simply forgot, or was too distracted, to pay attention. This blindness to the abundance of life left him with a sense of emptiness. Sometimes he was so distracted that he didn’t even notice the emptiness, but on those occasions when he was aware of the hollow space in his life he sought to discover ways to fill it. He read books and talked to friends and watched how other people went about filling their own emptiness. He tried to find the “proper” way to deal with this need.

Unfortunately, much of what he heard and much of what he saw was more harmful than helpful. He heard from those who spoke as if the emptiness could be filled with gushy, emotional highs. They left the impression that this would and should happen if he were doing it right. But, alas, this didn’t seem to be the way he was put together, and so it did not happen. As a result, he only felt more emptiness and a larger hollow place.

Then, there were those who spoke as if regiment, discipline, and procedure were the proper approach to filling the void. If one would just follow all the proper steps, and keep it up for long enough, then the emptiness would be filled and God’s purpose would become clear. But, again, this proved not to be the way for this particular man, and again discouragement set in.

Eventually, this became a repeating story of distraction and confusion. The emptiness was felt most strongly when he became distracted from what was real in life, and the more he searched for a way to fill the void, the more distracted he became. Soon he was being pulled in so many directions by the varying messages he was hearing that he came to doubt even those things which were real and true.

Then, slowly, two things began to happen which profoundly affected how he went about living his life. The first was that he began to worry less about filling the emptiness. It would be nice to say that great wisdom and insight led him to this decision, but the reality of the situation was far less dramatic and exciting. He simply became tired of worrying – too much energy with too few results. Instead of worrying about living he simply went about the business of living. He continued to journey through the land, and he continued to meet people and share in their lives, but he worried less about discovering what it all meant.

The second thing which began to take place in his life was that occasionally he would meet someone who would share another kind of story about the emptiness and how it might be filled. At first this came only in the form of hints and casual comments. It took a long time before the real message began to sink in, partly because it seemed so simple. Slowly, though, the man began to hear a different voice in the wilderness. It spoke little or not at all about formulas and final solutions and easy to follow plans. Instead what was offered was that the emptiness might be filled as we open up to what is all around and become more aware of the experiences which come in the midst of our living.

Little by little the two things began to work together in the life of this man. As he stopped worrying about how to fill the hole in his life he was far more likely just to live life as it happened. As he began to listen to this new voice which seemed to be speaking to him, he became more and more aware of the times when he did not feel hollow. Slowly he came to realize that the glimpses of wonder and brightness which he had sometimes experienced were in fact the very presence of God which he had been seeking. After all, where else but in the world would God’s presence be experienced? How else but through sharing in the lives of the people would God’s voice be heard?

He still has moments when the emptiness creeps back. Old habits do, indeed, die hard. He still forgets to pay attention to the life around him and instead worries about finding “the proper” response, which will help him “discover” God. But, in the midst of all that distraction, he really is learning to stop and remember to simply breathe in the wonder of the moment. And it is in just such moments when God speaks, God’s presence is felt, and the emptiness becomes at least a little bit less empty.

Sunday, June 6, 2021

Promises, Promises


Genesis 18: 1-15 & 21: 1-7
Roger Lynn
June 6, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

God shows up at your home one day – unannounced and unexpected. Appearance and behavior don’t reveal God’s identity, unless you are paying close attention. What do you do? How do you respond? Do you even recognize that it’s God? Such was the situation in which Abraham and his wife Sarah found themselves. And fortunately, they knew how to treat strangers, even when they didn’t recognize the divine presence in their midst. Habits of hospitality led to a positive reception and kind treatment for the visitors.

But that was only the beginning of this particular adventure. You will remember that God had made a covenant with Abraham and Sarah. They were to be the parents of what would become a whole nation of people, chosen and blessed by God. Over the years, that covenant had been put at risk on several occasions, primarily through a lack of trust on the part of would-be parents. They kept trying to take matters into their own hands, rather than trust that God was still in control of the situation. Now it had been many years since the covenant had first been made, and both Abraham and Sarah were quite old and still they were childless. The prospect of them becoming the parents of a great nation seemed remote at best. Such was the background against which the three strangers came to visit. And such was the background out of which these strangers reaffirmed the promise that Sarah would indeed give birth to a son. To say that this promise evoked a skeptical response would be an understatement. Sarah simply laughed at the idea. She would later deny having such doubts, but only because she began to figure out who it was making the promise and she was afraid of offending Yahweh. But the fact remained that she laughed. And in reality, laughter seems to be quite a reasonable response. Two old people, the woman well past menopause, becoming parents for the first time. It is a joke just waiting for a punchline. And as with all good jokes, the punchline turned out to be the last thing you would expect. In responding to Sarah’s doubts, God poses the rhetorical question, “Is anything too wonderful for God?” (Genesis 18:14), and then provided the answer in dramatic fashion. The punchline of this outrageous joke brought the best laughter of all. Sarah laughed with joy at the birth of her son – whom she named Laughter, just to prove that she got the joke.

And so the question comes back to us. What would we do if God came to visit? And more importantly, how would we respond to the sometimes outrageous promises of God? Such questions are far from rhetorical. God comes to visit everyday. It is significant that at his birth Jesus is declared to be “Emmanuel,” which literally translates as “God with us.” And God does, indeed, make some rather outrageous promises for our lives. Some of them are made in general terms, intended for everyone – like abundant life, grace, and ongoing presence. Other promises are more specific and particular – directed at each of us individually. And as with Abraham, such promises are often communicated through some very unexpected sources. Are we watching for God’s presence in the mundane as well as the extraordinary encounters of our living? Are we listening for God’s voice from the lips of family, friends, and even strangers? And are we prepared to risk believing the promises God might be trying to share with us? Such an approach to living is not without its risks. Not everyone we meet is necessarily an agent of the divine. Not every message we hear is necessarily a promise directly from God. Watching and listening for God requires a certain degree of discernment. But to dismiss the possibility outright is to risk cutting ourselves off from much that God has in store for us.

The questions are worth exploring. Where might God be present in my life right now? What might God be trying to say to me? In what new directions might God be trying to lead me? It is because I believe in such possibilities that over the years I have on occasion announced in advance that I would be preaching sermons with titles such as “It Happened At Church Camp” or “It Happened On The Water.” These often occurred following week-long experiences, such as being at Church Camp, or on a sailboat. I trusted that if I pay attention to my life and to what God might be trying to say to me through my life, I will discover something worth sharing. It is not that God is more likely to speak to me while I’m on a sailboat than at other moments of my life. It is just that I am more likely to be listening. Extended periods of the same activity offer a good opportunity to practice what can be a helpful approach for all of our living – watching and listening for the presence and the voice and the promises of God.

The good news in all of this is that we don’t have to get it right the first time. Perfection is not a requirement which must be met before God takes an interest in us. Abraham and Sarah are shining examples of the mistakes which can be made without being shunned by God. God has proved over and over again to be very patient with we human beings – continuing to revisit promises until we are finally prepared to receive them. We can doubt. We can laugh. We can do all manner of unhelpful things. And still we will find God coming to us again, continuing to make outrageous promises for our lives. It is just that paying attention and being prepared to believe the possibility makes it so much easier for us to receive what God has in store for us. What is God saying to you? Are you listening?

Sunday, May 30, 2021

Radical Renewal: Singing A New Song


Isaiah 56: 1-8
Roger Lynn
May 30, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)


God may be the same yesterday, today, and forever, but we human beings certainly are not. Human history has been, and will continue to be, about the process of discovering who God is and who we are in relationship to God. And that understanding will never be static or perfect. We are constantly engaged in the business of refining, re-evaluating, correcting, modifying and renewing our vision. Much of the time we flow along with the understanding of God and what it means to be people of faith which we inherited from those who very recently came before us. Often, we quite literally have the “faith of our fathers” (or mothers). But occasionally, through the grace of God, we are open enough to receive a breakthrough insight, which takes us to a new level of awareness. Such breakthroughs aren’t always recognized at the time, and they seldom create irreversible steps forward, but they do serve as mile markers and points of reference along the journey. The record of scripture offers us a picture of this process.

From the earliest times in the history of the Hebrew people, an awareness of God was a central reality which helped to define who they were as a people. But for a long time, their understanding of God was territorial and nationalistic in nature. God was “their” God, who had power and authority over “their” territory. While this left open the possibility of quarreling with your neighboring nations about whose god was more powerful, it did not even take into consideration the possibility of questioning the reality of those other gods, who had power and authority over their own peoples and territories. To one degree or another, this view of the world and of God remained in place from the time of Abraham, through the time of Moses, on down to the time of David and the first kings. What finally shook up this understanding was when the Babylonian empire conquered the nation of Judah, captured the city of Jerusalem and sent the people into exile in a foreign land. Suddenly they found themselves in a crisis of faith. If God were both national and territorial, then they were quite literally cut off from their God. They had no nation and they were removed from their land. The lament of the psalmist is more than just an expression of the blues. It is a cry of theological desolation. “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (Psalms 137:4)

Out of this crisis of faith a breakthrough insight began to emerge. In the book of Isaiah we find glimpses of this new vision. Perhaps God is not bound by national borders. Perhaps God is not limited to one people. Perhaps God does not live exclusively in a building in Jerusalem. The writer in Isaiah 56 gives expression of this new insight with these words, spoken on behalf of God, at least as God is then being understood. “For my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples. Thus says the Lord God, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, I will gather others to them besides those already gathered.” (Isaiah 56: 7-8) This statement represents a huge step forward in the understanding of who God is and how God relates to human beings. It literally throws open the doors and the windows to allow in the winds of inclusion. It breaks open their world view in radical new ways. They can never really ever go back to the way things were before.

That did not, however, stop people from trying to turn back the clock and return to the good old days of isolation and a private God. Although the words from Isaiah were written over 500 years prior to the time of Jesus, the struggle to maintain control of the gates of the kingdom, so to speak, was still an ongoing battle which Jesus had to confront in his ministry. From the Pharisees with their rules which determined who was acceptable and who was not, to the Zionist who plotted the overthrow of the Romans, the idea of God presiding over “a house of prayer for all people” was still not a reality, and often not even a dream.

But breakthrough insights continued to emerge nonetheless. While writing to the church in Galatia, the apostle Paul had such an insight. “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28) Here Paul recognizes the reality that God breaches the barriers we have erected to divide us. The concept of God as territorial, or national, or ethnic, or in any other way exclusive is discarded in favor of a radical new understanding of who God is and how God relates to human beings. All are invited to enter the circle of inclusion. There is no room for divisions which separate. The Oneness of God is simply bigger than any separateness which we can conceive or construct or enforce.

Of course Paul’s breakthrough insight didn’t end the process any more than did Isaiah’s. 2,000 years later we are still grappling with issues of inclusion and exclusion and division. And while the barriers which we use to divide us do not matter in God’s eyes, we certainly act as if they matter. But there is hope because God has a track record of patience and giving us yet one more chance. Breakthrough insights are still available and possible. So, in the midst of a society which is dramatically changing shape almost moment by moment, we still have an opportunity to grab hold of a vision of God’s radical inclusivity and begin to renew both the Church and the world. What are the understandings of God which are holding us back and preventing us from being God’s people in the world? Who are the strangers in our midst who we must begin to invite in to the fellowship of God’s community of faith? Where are the barriers we must break down, and the doors we must fling open? How is God moving in our midst to offer some breakthrough insight which will bring radical renewal to God’s people? May we continue to be God’s people of the ever emerging awareness.

Sunday, May 23, 2021

Wind & Fire (Pentecost)


Acts 2: 1-21
Roger Lynn
May 23, 2021
Pentecost Sunday
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

By its very nature, the Spirit of God is difficult to describe or even imagine in any sort of complete way. Unseen and mysterious, yet always present and discernible. Thus it is that down through the years and across the span of faith experiences a variety of images have been used to convey a sense of God’s Spirit. Scripture also reflects this diversity, and two images in particular stand out – wind and fire. We find them being introduced from the very beginning. “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” (Genesis 1: 1-2) Some translations specifically label this wind as God’s Spirit, and then go on to describe it as “brooding” over the waters. In the book of Exodus, the Israelites’ deliverance from Egypt is described this way. “The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night...” (Exodus 13:21) In the Gospel of Matthew, John the Baptist speaks of Jesus when he says, “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” (Matthew 3:11) And, of course, there is the description in the book of Acts regarding the events which took place on Pentecost in Jerusalem. “And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit...” (Acts 2:2-4) Wind and fire – powerful images of the Spirit of God.

As I reflect on the Pentecost experience, when the earlyl Church was overwhelmed by this Spirit of wind and fire, it occurs to me that this is not a safe thing we’re talking about. Wind and fire are powerful forces which can easily move beyond our control. When they are combined it quickly becomes evident just how “not safe”they are. When wildfires sweep across the landscape, the combination of wind and fire increase the power many times over.

I recognize that this analogy is risky, because I do not want to imply that God’s Spirit is a destructive force in the world or in our lives. But the comparison holds at least to the extent that God’s Spirit is not something we can control. In fact, sweeping changes often accompany the movement of the Spirit. I am reminded of a scene from the children’s book The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, which is part of the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis. In the book the Christ figure is a huge and powerful lion named Aslan. Near the beginning of the story, soon after the children first come to the land of Narnia, Mr. & Mrs. Beaver are telling them about Aslan.

“I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion – the Lion, the great Lion.”

“Ooh!” said Susan, “I’d thought he was a man. Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver, “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver. “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? “Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”


It is not a safe thing to encounter the Spirit of wind and fire. When we as the Church open ourselves to the movement of God’s Spirit, we run the risk of being forever changed. On that first Pentecost in Jerusalem, the Church went from a handful of disciples to over 3,000 new people who were alive and excited about what God was doing in their lives and in the world. And things were never the same again. New people bring with them new ideas and new ways of doing things. It gets harder to remember everyone’s face, to say nothing of their name. Leadership shifts and the old guard don’t have the power they once did. Goals and directions are modified and changed, and the Church takes on unpredictable new ministry and mission.

The Spirit of wind and fire calls us to be involved in the world in ways which are almost certain to make us uncomfortable, if not down right frightened. We risk being led to challenge the cultural status quo. We are in danger of finding ourselves in relationship with folks who are different from who we are. When we are exposed to the wind and the fire of God’s Spirit, we may find that old prejudices and ways of thinking must be allowed to blow away or burn up. We might even be called upon to make sacrifices of our time or our energy or our money.

It is no accident that the Spirit of God is portrayed with images of wind and fire. To be involved with this Spirit can be frightening, intimidating, and risky. But it can also be exciting, invigorating, and inspiring. Whenever God’s Spirit moves through the Church, things are forever changed, but ultimately the change always takes the form of growth. To paraphrase Mr. Beaver’s comments regarding Aslan, “Of course God’s Spirit of wind and fire isn’t safe, but it’s good!” May we open our lives and our church to the movement of God’s amazing and transforming Spirit of wind and fire. Come, Holy Spirit, come!

Sunday, May 16, 2021

Wait for It!


Ephesians 1: 15-19
Roger Lynn
May 16, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)


Once upon a time there was a TV commercial for ketchup which featured various people waiting for the ketchup to slowly pour out of the bottle, while Carly Simon’s “Anticipation” played in the background. The unspoken message was that some things are worth waiting for. Generally speaking, however, that is not a message which we readily embrace. Often we seem to want it all and we want it now.

This is true not only for life in general, but also for our lives of faith. Sometimes we find ourselves praying something akin to the old joke, “Lord, give me patience, and give it to me right now.” So perhaps it is worth paying attention, at least occasionally, to one of the themes which runs through scripture – anticipation. We may want everything to happen quickly, but there is considerable evidence in scripture that God’s watch runs at a different speed. The Israelites spent forty years in the wilderness before finally being led into the Promised Land. The coming of God’s messiah was dreamed of by the prophets centuries before Jesus’ birth. The gift of God’s Spirit was spoken of by the prophet Joel long before the day of Pentecost. As much as we might wish for instant gratification, there seems to be an important place in our lives for patience. Some things really are worth waiting for.

So it is that we find Jesus preparing the disciples for his departure with a promise of what is yet to come. “I am sending upon you what God promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” (Luke 24:49) The disciples are assured that this promise of power is coming. In the Gospel of John, Jesus tells them that he will not leave them orphaned. But for all the assurance of what is to come, this power from God does not become instantly and fully manifest in their lives. They have to wait for it. They have to anticipate it.

And I believe that the waiting is actually a part of the gift. Why didn’t the Israelites go straight from Egypt to the Promised Land? Why did it take so long for the promises of a messiah and God’s Spirit to be fulfilled? Why do we still not get everything we want precisely when we want it? There are several reasons, actually. For one thing, we often aren’t ready to receive a gift right away. We think we are, of course, but we’re really not. The Israelites spent forty years in the wilderness because that is how long it took to raise up a new generation who weren’t completely immersed in the mentality of slavery. That is how long it took to give the phrase “but we’ve always done it that way” a chance to die. Sometimes it just takes time for us to grow into the possibilities that God has in store for us. If we get it all too quickly we’ll just find a way to mess it up.

Another reason why patience really can be a virtue is that it helps us avoid the trap of thinking we did it all ourselves. When things come too quickly and too easily, we are sometimes tempted to believe that it was all our own doing. It is one thing to have self-confidence. It is quite another to have an over-inflated sense of self-reliance. When we have to wait for something it gives us the opportunity to remember that we are not in this life alone. It is a collaborative effort, involving all those with whom we share life, as well as the God of all creation.

And remembering that we are not in it alone is closely related to yet another reason why waiting can be important – learning to trust in God’s faithfulness. Just because something doesn’t happen immediately doesn’t mean it isn’t going to happen. We sometimes have the tendency to blame God as soon as our own timetable isn’t met. “It didn’t happen the way I expected it to or wanted it to, so therefore God has abandoned me.” However, if we begin with confidence in God’s ultimate faithfulness, then waiting simply becomes an opportunity to anticipate the marvelous and surprising ways in which God will respond in the future. Throughout scripture we find examples where hope in God’s future help is supported by remembering God’s past faithfulness.

Yet another reason to celebrate patience is for the simple joy of appreciating the moment when that which has been anticipated does become reality. I know people who have spent their whole lives being handed everything they could possibly want before they even knew they might want it. The result is often that they have no real appreciation for what they have. On the other hand, when we wait expectantly for something, we are more likely to have a genuine appreciation when it happens.

The disciples were promised power for their living. And eventually they got it. But they spent some time anticipating it first. We too are promised rich, abundant living, with the power of God’s presence infusing our lives. But it often doesn’t come in the ways we expect, nor on the timetable we might prefer. Like the disciples, we are frequently faced with the challenge of waiting for the promises of God. We can respond with impatience and frustration and doubt. Or we can respond with patience and anticipation and trust. God’s promises will be fulfilled in either case, but how we wait for them will make a difference in the quality of our living. The choice is ours. May we be found faithful.

Sunday, May 9, 2021

Mother’s Day – Expanding Our Perspective


Mark 3: 31-35
Roger Lynn
May 9, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

It is a time honored tradition which has been around for as long as we can remember. It is, as the saying goes, as American as baseball and apple pie. We are, of course, talking about Mother’s Day.

Some of you may remember being in church on this particular Sunday in years now long since past, when there would be flowers for the oldest mother, recognition for the mother with the most children, etc. And, of course, the same wonderful woman was the oldest every year – because once you are the oldest, it is difficult for anyone to pass you up.

Mothers in general, and Mother’s Day in particular, receive a considerable amount of sentimental attention in our culture. Therefore, I will skip that particular side of the story, pretty much entirely. Not because it doesn’t deserve our attention. Most of the time, mothers are a pretty terrific addition to our lives and deserve far more recognition than they usually receive. But, on this day in particular, such sentimental recognition is already being taken care of quite well. So instead, I would like to spend a few moments considering some alternative perspectives.

It is important for us to remember that not everyone experiences Mother’s Day in a positive way. As the Church, we need to be sensitive to people for whom such holidays as this only serve as a reminder of pain or loss. On the other hand, this need not become the major focus of the day. In one of his books, Robert Fulghum wrote a piece about Mother’s Day. In one section he tells about a particular Mother’s Day when he was still preaching in a church. He decided to address the down side of the issue and proceeded to put forth a series of questions which served to remind the congregation that such times were not all hugs and kisses for everyone. Good idea – bad timing. The sanctuary was very quiet. One encounter sums up the reaction. “A visiting lady, who had “sainted mother” written all over her face, accosted me after church: “Young man, better men than you have gone straight to hell for suggesting less than what you said this morning. Shame, shame, SHAME for spoiling the day.” ”

Well, I’m reasonably astute when it comes to noticing lessons worth learning, so I would like to avoid that particular trap. Not every moment is the right moment for dealing with every topic, even when it is important. Being exclusive is not always a bad thing. There are times when it is very appropriate to focus on a person or group of people and give them their due. Mothers are such a group. Mother’s Day is such a day.

But what if we could go one better? If being exclusive is not always a bad thing, being inclusive is usually a better thing, if you can pull it off. What if we can take the good feelings of this day and then widen our field of vision concerning what we are celebrating? We can begin by looking carefully at what we are honoring on Mother’s Day. As important, and sometimes difficult, a task as giving birth to a child is, that is not the main reason for this special day. My sister used to send our mother a card every year, and my sister was adopted. Giving birth doesn’t even enter into that particular relationship. It has more to do with what happens between those two people after birth. It is less about biology than it is about relationship. And in that light we can begin experiencing a new up side to this whole business of Mother’s Day. It can encompass mothers and a great deal more as well.

From this new perspective we can begin thinking about all the people in our lives who have been mothers to us (or fathers or sisters or brothers). Have we offered thanks to God for the gift of such people in our lives? Have we said thanks to the people themselves? Why not send them a Mother’s Day card and really surprise them?

But there is more good news regarding this broadening of our perspective. We can also begin thinking about the people for whom we are, or might become, mothers (or fathers or sisters or brothers.) What are some ways we can share the gift of ourselves with someone else? How can we be nurturing and loving in their lives?

In the scripture from Mark which we heard read this morning, Jesus had some things to say about all of this. Often these words have been seen as being rather harsh. I invite you to listen this time with fresh hearing. “Then his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to him and called him. A crowd was sitting around him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” And looking at those who sat around him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” (Mark 3: 31-35)

I don’t believe Jesus was being harsh and uncaring to his family. From the cross he made sure that his mother was taken care of. He was simply reminding all of us, once again, that our vision is often too narrow. A relationship is not determined by biology. A relationship is determined by the quality the connection which is shared between people.

Fulghum’s essay on Mother’s Day actually addressed all of this as well. The opening line is, “My son is a mother.” He says, “I call him a “mother” in that he does all those things that, once upon a time, mostly mothers did. I admire him for this.” He ends the article this way: “My Sunday obligations are over now. I am on safer ground in passing some advice on to my son the mother. Advice for his older brother as well, who is engaged and has the fecund look about him that tells me motherhood is not far away from him, either. . . You will never really know what kind of parent you were or if you did it right or wrong. Never. And you will worry about this and them as long as you live. But when your children have children and you watch them do what they do, you will have part of an answer.”
(from “It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It”, by Robert Fulghum)


So, celebrate this Mother’s Day. If you have a mother with whom you can share this day, rejoice and give thanks. If you are a mother, enjoy the gift of your children. But, regardless of your circumstance, expand your vision. Open your life to the touch of those who would share of themselves. Reach out and give of yourself to those around you with whom you share life. God has given us the gift of each other and we are called to share deeply, fully, and richly in each other’s lives. May we make this a Mother’s Day for ALL to celebrate.

Sunday, May 2, 2021

A House of Living Stone


John 14: 1-3 & 1 Peter 2: 4-6 & 9-10
Roger Lynn
May 2, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

The world is often a frightening place these days. There are wars and rumors of war. Crime in our cities seems out of control. Violence continues to sweep through our schools. Poverty and hunger devastate lives around the world and here in our own backyard. Diseases of every variety leave a trail of victims in their path. Sometimes we are left feeling helpless and hopeless in the face of such overwhelming odds. What can we possibly do to make a difference? What can we do just to hold back the darkness? The problem, of course, is that we can’t. Not on our own. There are just too many problems and they are all too big. We find ourselves faced with situations which seem beyond our ability to understand, to say nothing about being able to doing anything about them. The temptation is to just shake our heads in frustration and confusion and give up.

That must have been something like what the disciples experienced in the upper room as Jesus began explaining to them about his forthcoming death. What had seemed such a bright and hopeful future had suddenly turned dark and forbidding. They thought they had found a reason for living. Now they were beginning to feel abandoned and alone. So Jesus tries to reassure them. He tells them, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me... I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.” (John 14:1 & 18) And then, as a way of giving them hope, he promises them a home. “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” (John 14:2) 

In the middle of that dark night, when all hope and reason seemed to have fled, such words probably did little to calm the fears and dispel the uncertainties of the disciples. If they remembered it at all, the promise of a place in God’s heavenly house would have seemed beyond their grasp. It is difficult to think of heaven when the concerns of life here on earth are pressing in from every side. And so they despaired and finally fled in the face of what was to come. Not really so very different from we ourselves. We forget that just because something is beyond our grasp does not mean it is beyond God’s grasp. We forget to take into account our most valuable resource – God. Indeed, offering the disciples comfort was really the least of what Jesus tried to do that night in the upper room. His primary purpose was to point them beyond their fears to the challenge which lay before them. “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.” (John 14:12) And, 2,000 years later, his words remain vital. Like those first disciples, we are not called to be disciples of Christ only so that we might take comfort in his presence with us. Such presence, such a promise of a home with God, is to be our source of strength so we can be the Church in the world – doing God’s work wherever it is needed.

And that is where Peter picks up the story. That night in the upper room, the disciples could never have imagined there was anything beyond the promise of a place in God’s house. How could they have dreamed that what they were ultimately called to become was not residence in God’s house, but part of the very fabric of the house itself. “Come to him, a living stone, ...and like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house...” (I Peter 2:4-5) God’s Church in the world is not made of wood and nails, bricks and mortar, pulpits and pews. It is not a static structure. God’s Church in the world is made of living stones – you and me and all those everywhere who claim Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. You see, it is not about what we can understand or imagine or do on our own. It is not even about saying the right words or believing the right doctrine. It is about what God can accomplish with us and through us when we are in faithful relationship with God. “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (I Peter 2:9) On our own the world is indeed a frightening place. When we enter into relationship with Christ we become living stones fitted together into God’s Church which can accomplish miracles in the world. “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” (I Peter 2:10)

Comfort for our fear and promises of a future home with God are significant and important, but they are really only the beginning. We are God’s people – a house of living stone, and we have been called by name and empowered to make a difference in the world. There is much to be done. What are we waiting for?

Sunday, April 25, 2021

Abundant Life – A Test


John 10: 1-10
Roger Lynn
April 25, 2021
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

As we live our lives we find ourselves faced with a variety of choices. Decisions must be made. Actions must be taken. As we seek to make those choices, whose voice do we listen to? Whose directions do we follow? Not just personally, but corporately – as a congregation, as a community, as a nation. And how do we know when we are on the right track? Put another way, what is the will of God for our lives? There are, of course, lots of answers to questions such as these. Both the questions and the answers are complex and not easily sorted out. In most cases what is required is a lifetime of striving to shape, refine, and then re-shape our responses. And in all of that, we will very seldom, if ever, find ourselves presented with clear-cut, black and white, 100% certainties. Life is ambiguous, and what we are called to do is show up and do the best with can in any given moment.

As we seek to discover how best to respond in a faithful manner, there are clues and guidelines which we can use along the way – tests which we can apply to our choices. Jesus offers one such guideline in the passage from John’s Gospel which was read this morning. In talking about the relationship between himself and humanity, he uses the metaphor of sheep and their shepherd. He contrasts this relationship with that of a thief whose only intention is to steal and kill and destroy. And to the unspoken question, “How can we tell the difference?” he lays out his own desire for humanity, and by extension, God’s desire as well. “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) This statement is, in my opinion, one of the high water marks in all of scripture. It lays before us a guiding principle with which to measure the ways in which we go about living our lives. In the video series, “Questions Of Faith,” Hyung Kyung Chung, a Presbyterian theologian from Korea, responds to the question “What’s the use of the Bible?” by stating that the norm for interpreting scripture is to ask the question, “Is this life-giving for us or is this death-giving for us?” And at a very basic level, that is also the question which we must ask of all the choices we face – will this choice enhance life or encourage death? If we are truly seeking to follow God’s desire for us, then the decisions we make, the actions we take, the paths we choose, must be life oriented and life enhancing, not just for us but for the whole world. If they are not, then to the degree that they are not we have missed the mark of what it means to be the people God created us to be.

It is, of course, much easier to lay out this kind of broad, general principle than it is to apply such a principle to particular situations. As I said, life is ambiguous. Hard questions must be asked, both of ourselves and of the society of which we are a part. It will always be an ongoing process of learning and growing and adapting. It is painfully obvious to anyone listening to the news that there is much about our world which is not life-enhancing. Just in the past week the number of mass shootings around the country has left of many of us shaking our heads in confusion and frustration as we grasp for some sort of explanation. It all seems so senseless. But unless and until we begin to recognize that we live in an interconnected world where our choices and our actions make a difference the pattern will just continue. Whether it’s violence, or poverty, or human rights, or racial tension, or environmental degradation, or whatever else might show up on the list, nothing happens in isolation. We are all a part of the system which offers us death-giving choices rather than life-giving ones, and we can, therefore, also begin making different choices which will change the system. The change likely won’t happen overnight, but it won’t happen at all unless we take the first step. And we won’t get far on this journey unless we remember that we need not (cannot) go it alone. We have each other and we have God. We are all in this together.

I know it is not simple. There are often complicated questions with no clear and simple solutions. I seldom feel like I have definitive answers for such difficult issues, but at the very least the questions must continue to be asked. Is there a more life-giving response which could be made than is presently being offered? Am I really seeking abundant life with this decision? What are the implications of this choice, not only for my life, but for those around me and, indeed, for the rest of the world? Jesus said, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” What are we doing to cooperate with that goal?

Sunday, April 18, 2021

Finding Christ In The Common Places


Luke 24: 13-32
Roger Lynn
April 18, 2021
(no audio this week)

One of the most remarkable things about the Christian faith is how ordinary it is. I suspect that if we were honest with ourselves, what we would really like, at least some of the time, is a God who is revealed in big, splashy, spectacular ways which can’t be missed! But most of the time that is not what we find. Instead we find the God who is revealed to us as one of us. And then not as royalty, but in poverty. Not as a mighty warrior, but as an infant. Not as a high priest, but as a traveling storyteller. When miracles do happen, they usually take the form of turning a little water into wine (and then not taking credit for it), making sure everyone has enough to eat, or healing a few poor sick people. One of the most significant symbols in the Church is a simple meal of bread and wine. Extraordinary events, but they occur within the context of the ordinary, everyday stuff of life. You have to be paying attention to notice.

The Gospels offer a variety of Easter stories which illustrate this pattern quite well. Early in the morning on the first day of the week, some of the women who had been followers of Jesus went out to the tomb where Jesus had been buried. There they encountered an empty tomb and an angel who told them that Jesus had been raised. But still they were surprised when they met him on the road back to town. It was an ordinary meeting – just Jesus greeting his friends. Later that same day, his disciples are surprised when they encounter Jesus behind the closed doors where they had gathered. And again, once you get beyond the fact that it is the resurrected Jesus who was greeting them, it was a rather ordinary meeting.

Then there is the story which we read this morning. Two men walking along the road from Jerusalem to Emmaus. As they are talking between themselves about all which had occurred in the past several days, they are joined by another man, whom they do not recognize. He joins in the conversation and helps them to see the events surrounding Jesus’ death in a new light. It is only when he joins them for dinner and breaks the bread that they realize it is Jesus who has been with them all day. 

As I said, it is remarkable how ordinary our faith is. It touches us in all of the common places where we live our everyday, ordinary lives. And it is, I believe, in this ordinariness that we find the true power and attraction of the Christian faith. It meets us where we are. It is about what our lives are about. It is not necessary to pretend that we are something other than who we are. At its heart, that is the message which is proclaimed in the whole of Jesus’ life – God seeks to be with us in the midst of life, whatever, whenever, wherever that might be.

Unfortunately, we very often forget that great truth. And thus we fail to be on the lookout for God. The women returning from the tomb were surprised when they were greeted by Jesus because they hadn’t really expected to meet him. The disciples meeting behind closed doors were startled by Jesus’ presence because they weren’t really looking for him. The men on the road to Emmaus spent most of the day with Jesus before they recognized him because he was literally the last person they thought would be with them on the road. And if we had been in any of those situations, we likely would have reacted in very similar ways. We say we believe that God is present everywhere, that Christ is always with us, that the Holy Spirit is in all of life, but most of the time we only believe that in the abstract rather than in the particular.

In Jesus’ parable which we often call “the Sheep and the Goats,” the point is made that Jesus is fully present in the lives of anyone who is in need – whether that be from hunger, or illness, or poverty, or whatever. When we encounter such people we are encountering Christ among us. And in the parable, both those who responded with compassion and those who failed to respond with compassion had one thing in common – they were surprised to learn that Christ could be found in those situations. That is not where they expected to look for God. And neither do we.

The reality is that God is all around us all of the time. There is evidence everywhere we look. Whenever I manage to remember that remarkable truth it is confirmed – when the eyes of my heart are open to the possibility I am moved beyond words at the profoundly intimate and amazing presence of God I experience. And that is an important lesson for all of us to learn. No matter where we find ourselves in this life, no matter what has befallen us, no matter how painful the past or hopeless the future appears to be, we are not alone and we have not been abandoned. If we remember to keep our eyes open, if we remember to expect the unexpected, then we will discover God greeting us in the garden of our grief, meeting us behind the doors of our fear, walking with us down the roads of our living, and breaking bread with us at all the tables around which we gather. In the good times and the bad, the occasions of great celebration and deep pain, the moments when we are certain where we are going and those when we are sure we are lost, we will find God in the common, ordinary, everyday places of our lives. What an amazing gift to have a faith which is so ordinary!

Sunday, April 11, 2021

Letting Our Faith Become Personal


John 20: 19-31
Roger Lynn
April 11, 2021
(No audio this week)


It had been a tumultuous week for the disciples of Jesus. They had arrived in Jerusalem amidst the fan-fare and excitement of a parade. They had shared a Passover meal with Jesus. Then it had all gone wrong. Jesus was arrested, tried under very questionable circumstances, and executed as a common criminal. Life had seemed so full of hope and promise. But before they even knew what was happening it had all shattered down around them. And what made it even more difficult to live with was the fact that all of them had responded in such disgraceful ways – denying their association with Jesus and running away when things got tough. And then, as if they weren’t confused enough already, some of the women among them had come to them with a wild story about earthquakes and angels and an empty tomb. If their story was to be believed, and there was considerable debate among the disciples around that very question, then Jesus was not dead after all.

Such were the circumstances that found them meeting behind closed doors to discuss what was happening and what they should do about it. But even that did not go as planned. They were just settling in for a long night of arguing among themselves when their world was turned upside down yet again. There stood Jesus, very much alive and very much among them. At first they didn’t know what to think or how to respond. Jesus offered a blessing of peace, but he had to offer it a second time before they really began to calm down enough to hear him. Jesus was not dead! He was alive! He was still with them. And he still had the power to calm and center their lives. “Peace be with you!” was all he said, but it was so much more than words which he offered. It was the wholeness of a life which made sense again, through the power of the God who had not abandoned them after all.

Then Jesus did a most remarkable thing. He breathed on them. And just as his words of peace were more than merely words, so this was more than merely breathing. It was the bestowing of a gift – the gift of new life through the empowerment of God’s Holy Spirit. In one of the creation stories in Genesis, God breathes into the newly formed but lifeless humans and they become living beings. That is, in essence, what Jesus was doing here. The gift of the Holy Spirit represents nothing less than a new creation. God was reaching directly into the lives of these disciples and touching them with God’s very self. It is relationship at its most personal and intimate. And precisely because it is so personal, it is life-changing. Not only do they find the faith to accept and believe what seems so unbelievable, they also discover the power to carry on with Jesus’ mission and ministry of forgiveness. Jesus literally commissions them to take over where he left off – proclaiming and sharing in word and deed the good news of God’s grace which is at work in the world. And all of this became possible when they allowed their faith to get personal. It was more than an intellectual exercise. It was more than an abstract set of principles and beliefs. It was being embraced and transformed and empowered by the God of all creation.

But at least one of the disciples missed this first encounter. And his reaction tells us much about what is required for vital faith to be experienced. For some reason Thomas was not there that night, so of course the other disciples were excited to share with him the news that Jesus was alive. But such news cannot simply be told. It must also be experienced. So, Thomas was not prepared to be convinced merely on the basis of someone else’s story. He instinctively knew that he needed more. He just didn’t yet understand what would be required. So he declares that he is not going to be convinced until he can see and touch and feel for himself. Under the circumstances he responded quite well. “I’m going to have to experience it personally before it will change my life,” is what he was saying. And for someone who was used to thinking and living in concrete terms, experiencing it personally meant being able to see it and touch it with his senses. As it turned out, he was right and he was wrong. He did need to personally experience the risen Christ, but it was an experience which touched his soul rather than just his senses. When invited to do exactly what he said he would need to do – touch the wounds in Jesus’ hands and side – Thomas instead chose to respond in faith. Once the experience became personal, the proof he thought would be required became unnecessary.

2,000 years later we are in much the same position as were those first disciples. If this last year has taught us anything it is that life can become very painful and confusing at times, and things do not always go according to our plans. It is easy to feel lost and overwhelmed, and faith is put to the test. If our faith is based solely on intellectually abstract ideas and concepts, or old, hand-me-down beliefs, then we are likely to find it rather hollow and largely empty of power to sustain us in the midst of a crisis. But if, on the other hand, we have managed to allow ourselves to be touched by the living presence of God in our lives, then we will discover a faith which is capable of both sustaining us in the present and empowering us for the future. As it was with Thomas, it is not something about which others can convince us. It is not even something about which we can convince ourselves. Vital, life-giving faith requires that we enter into an active, personal, and intimate relationship with Sacred Presence. And as with any relationship, it can’t be forced. It takes being open to the opportunities when they present themselves. And because God is always present, such opportunities are all around us all of the time. Like the disciples meeting behind closed doors on that first Easter evening, when we least expect it we will discover God’s presence in the midst of us. The only question is, will we allow our faith to get personal?

Sunday, April 4, 2021

Believing Is Seeing (Easter)


John 20: 1-18
Roger Lynn
April 4, 2021
Easter
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)

“While it was still dark.” That’s the way John’s Gospel begins the story of Easter morning. And the darkness which John references was about more than simply the fact that the sun had not yet risen. Darkness had filled their lives for three days. All meaning and purpose had been stripped from their existence. The most important person in their lives had been taken from them, and all their hopes and dreams for the future had been shattered. Jesus was dead, and for all intents and purposes they might as well have been dead too.

But then something extraordinary happened. The God of Light and Life found them and brought them out of their darkness and death. It didn’t happen all at once. Faith is often an emerging process. But light was dawning in their darkness. It was not seeing that helped them believe, but rather believing that helped them to truly see. And even their believing was not their own doing, but was itself a gift from God.

After running to tell the other disciples about the empty tomb, Mary returns, but waits outside, crying. Even her brief encounter with a pair of angels does not help her to recognize the light that is shining into her world. She is seeing, but not believing. Not even when she finds herself face to face with Jesus does she recognize the truth. She thinks him to be the gardener. But then (and this is one of my very favorite moments in all of scripture) he calls her by name. He calls her back to her true self – the self that God created her to be – the self that is capable of seeing a world beyond the darkness – a world which is filled with the light of new life.

2,000 years later our lives continue to be described by phrases such as “while it was still dark.” Over the past year, in many and various ways from the pandemic to racial tensions to political turmoil, our lives and our world have been filled with darkness. We still have need for the light of God to drive back the shadows. We do not have the opportunity to run to the empty tomb, at least not literally. But that doesn’t really matter. Those first witnesses to the resurrection had no real advantage over us. For them, as for us, it is faith which is required to truly encounter the risen Christ and experience the power of God’s new life in our lives. And it is important to remember that even faith comes to us as a gift. We need not (indeed cannot) conjure it into being by sheer force of will. All that is necessary is to be willing to receive the gift. God’s light is shining in our lives even now, and we are being called by name. We are being called back to our true selves. May our hearts be opened and our lives be filled as we allow ourselves to receive God’s gift of faith. May we discover God’s presence which has been here the whole time, just waiting for us to notice.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Hallelujah!

Sunday, March 28, 2021

Triumph or Tragedy? (Palm/Passion Sunday)


Mark 11: 1-11
Roger Lynn
March 28, 2021
Palm/Passion Sunday
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)
(CLICK HERE for the video for this sermon)
(CLICK HERE for the video for the whole service)

It’s funny how you can learn so much in one day, and not even realize what it is you’ve learned until years later. I was there that day – the day he came riding through the gates. I was in the crowd, shouting and waving branches, acting as if I knew what I was doing. But, it would not be until much later before I began to have even a glimmer of understanding about what I learned that day – about myself, about the world, about God, about how all those things fit together.

It’s difficult to describe what happened. Everyone was so caught up in the euphoria. The mood swept through the city like a flood, carrying along everyone in its path. It was amazing. I never really thought of myself as the fanatical type, but I certainly got carried away that day.

It has always confused me when I try to tell this story. I want to tell the whole thing at once, because to tell any one part of it is to tell it wrong. Starting at the beginning has always seemed so inadequate to the task, but I’ve never come up with a better way, so at the beginning is where we will begin.

Rumors had been filtering in to Jerusalem for months about a young itinerant rabbi named Jesus. He was wandering about the countryside with a small band of followers, preaching and teaching and, some said, even healing. The reactions to these rumors were mixed. Some said he was the long awaited messiah, come to save us all. Some said he was Satan, come to damn us all. There were a variety of opinions, but very few people seemed to be without some feelings on the matter.

Then one day the rumors began to change, or maybe I should say they began to grow. They sounded more first hand. They sounded closer. Jesus was coming to Jerusalem and he would be here very soon. The excitement built. The tension built. Street corner discussions became public debates. If I had been Jesus, Jerusalem is not where I would be coming right then. But still the rumors persisted.

Then came the morning of that day. People were running through the streets, shouting and screaming and waving branches. Jesus was right outside the city. He would be riding through the gates at any moment. God’s Messiah was coming to God’s holy city! Whatever dissension had been present in the days before seemed to fade into the shadows in the face of the excitement which was surging through the city. If there were folks who weren’t excited, I guess they just stayed off the streets that day. I soon found myself being carried along with the crowd and caught up with their enthusiasm.

I have heard others tell this story, both those who were there and those who have only heard it third and fourth hand. Often when it’s told, Jesus’ entry into the city is referred to as the triumphal entry. Over the years I have had very mixed feelings about that title. At the time, and for a few days following, it certainly seemed to be a triumph. Jesus had come through the gates and was welcomed by the accolades of the crowd. Shouts of “hosanna” were on everyone’s lips. It was a victory celebration! Even the skeptical were beginning to believe that this might really be the messiah, and the fact that Jesus was riding on a donkey instead of a war horse didn’t seem to cut into anyone’s sense of exhilaration.

Well, as I said, that sense of triumph lasted for a couple of days, but the mood of the crowd changed all too quickly. After they arrested him on the evening of Passover, people reacted very badly. I’m ashamed to admit that I was one of the many who were caught up in the “anti-Jesus” sentiment which was being encouraged by some of the Pharisees and other teachers of the law. After all, they were our spiritual leaders – the ones we looked to for guidance and leadership. It was amazingly easy to fall right in with this latest mood of the crowd. As we gathered in front of Pilate’s palace that night, shouting for Jesus to be crucified, I remember looking around and seeing many of the same faces who had been present the Sunday before when he came riding through the gates. The same voices were shouting again – only this time they were shouting in angry, hateful tones. And mine was one of the them. The sense of triumph was gone. Tragedy hung in the air like a fog, clinging to us so closely that we didn’t even realize it was there.

For a very long time after that I couldn’t understand how everything could have gone so wrong. How could someone who claimed to teach about God’s love come to such an end? How could such triumph end in such tragedy? How could we have misunderstood so badly?

And then one day, years later, something happened which brought all my questions and confusions into a sharper focus. I encountered Jesus as someone more than a wandering rabbi. I became more than merely one of the crowd. I met the Christ – and in that meeting many things became clear. As I said in the beginning, “It’s funny how you can learn so much in one day, and not even realize what it is you’ve learned until years later.” That day when he came riding through the gates really had been a triumphal entry. It really was God’s messiah entering God’s holy city. We had not been wrong – but we had not been right either. We missed it because we were looking for a different sort of messiah. We wanted a savior who fit our expectations, rather than one who fit God’s generous and grace-filled intentions. I learned that things are not always what they seem and yet, sometimes, they are exactly what they seem, for all the reasons we could never guess. I began to learn to let God be God, because only then will we begin to find triumph in the most unexpected of places.

I was there that day – the day he came riding through the gates. I was in the crowd, shouting and waving branches, acting as if I knew what I was doing.

Sunday, March 21, 2021

Following The Light (Lent 5)


Exodus 34: 29-35; John 8: 12; Ephesian 5: 8-9
Roger Lynn
March 21, 2021
5th Sunday In Lent
(CLICK HERE for the audio for this sermon)
(CLICK HERE for the video for this sermon)
(CLICK HERE for the video for the entire service)

Each week during this season of Lent we have been exploring various aspects of what it means to journey through the wilderness of our lives. To make such a journey we require a guide – someone who knows the way we must travel. The scriptures for this morning all point to the image of light as one of the gifts we need for the journey. I invite you to listen for the good news of the light which we are invited to follow.

- Light in Our Darkness -

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, there was nothing. There was no sky. There was no earth. There was no light. There was no darkness. There was only nothing, and the nothingness was vast and complete. But in the midst of the nothingness, there was God. Then God began to create, which is what God does best, and then there was something where before there had been nothing. But darkness was everywhere, so God called forth light out of the darkness, and in many and various ways has been doing so ever since. For God is a radiant God of Light, shining into the darkness, illuminating the shadows, and shining ever outward.

After the light, God’s creation continued with the shaping of persons and breathing the breath of life into their nostrils, and human history began. It is the history of a created people’s encounters with a radiant creator God.

Our story begins with one such encounter, when a man named Moses went up on a mountain and there was confronted by the living, radiant God. That encounter was so intense that Moses himself took on some of God’s radiance, his face reflecting the Light of God. For you see, one does not encounter God and walk away unchanged and unaffected.

Moses came down from the mountain, shining with the Light of God, and he came before the people of Israel. But even this second hand light, this reflected glory, shining in their darkness was more than the people could bear. It showed them their darkness for what it was, and they would rather not been shown. So Moses covered the light from them so they wouldn’t have to be reminded.

And so the story goes, time and time again. Even after witnessing the Light and seeing their darkness for what it was, the people still persisted in choosing the darkness. They had convinced themselves that in their darkness they had freedom, for there they could do as they pleased and no one would object.

For years and years the story goes on, with God shining into the darkness and the people choosing the darkness nonetheless, until finally, God sent not a beam of light into the darkness, but the Light source itself. Of course that did not go over well at all. The people had been hard pressed to endure just the shining of that Light into their world. To put up with the Light actually being in the world with them, shining out of the midst of the darkness, was more than they were prepared to deal with. They had come to prefer the darkness and had even begun to believe that it was not really darkness at all. Then along came this brilliant, shining, wondrous source of Light, like a flash of lighting in the mist of the storm which they had long since stopped even thinking of as a storm, reminding them that they were indeed living in darkness, shattering their carefully constructed illusion.

These were a stubborn people, however. They chose to see in this Light a threat to their darkness rather than an inviting warmth calling them to new life in the Light. They chose to cling to their imagined freedom rather than give themselves over to the source of all true freedom. They chose to deny the existence of the Light, and so they extinguished the flame – or so they thought.

What they did not realize, or would not admit, was that this Light had shone in their darkness and their darkness could not put it out. They could close their eyes and pretend that it was not so. They could go into their houses and shut all the doors and windows against this Light. But this living, life-giving Light of God went right on shining in the world, illuminating the darkness wherever it came.

There have always been those who recognized that their darkness could not survive. And over time their numbers have grown. They come to see that bumping around in the dark is not freedom at all, but a kind of self-imposed slavery. They begin to open up the doors and windows. They begin to open their eyes. They give themselves over to the Light and let it shine forth in their lives. And yes, they find freedom in the Light.

So for years upon countless years the Light has continued to shine in our world – but the darkness has continued as well. It can be found in a variety of shapes and forms – in the pain and confusion which comes when we have been hurt and betrayed by someone we trusted; in the loss and confusion we feel at the death of someone we love; in the sickness which strikes our own bodies; in our stubborn insistence that we have everything under control. We find it in a variety of disguises, but the darkness persists wherever it can gain a foothold.

This is, however, a story of Light. The darkness cannot endure when the Light is allowed to come in. And since this is no ordinary light, but the Light of the living, radiant God, the God of creation who called light out of darkness and continues to do so even yet, this Light does more than simply drive back the darkness. It renews and restores and transforms all those into whose life it shines. It continues the process of creation until we recognize that we are a part of the Light source itself, shining forth into the darkness which cannot endure.

Then comes the freedom which we have so often tried to find in our darkness, the freedom to be who we are always being invited to become – daughters and sons of the Light.

And so begins OUR story!