A Carpenter’s Tale

a Christmas Eve story by Roger Lynn
(click here for the audio for this story)

It is difficult to comprehend the changes that a year can bring. My life is surprising, and amazing, and overwhelming, and terrifying, and wonderful, all at the same time. You just never know where life will take you.

But I get ahead of myself. Let me back up and start again. My name is Joseph, and I am a carpenter from the village of Nazareth. Nine month ago I was just a simple man, working everyday and looking forward to marrying my beloved Mary. And then things got crazy. When Mary told me she was pregnant it was unexpected and confusing. I felt lost, and hurt, and betrayed. She told me a story about an angel and being chosen to carry God’s child. It seemed such an outlandish tale, and I was still reeling from the news. At first I didn’t believe her. And then I made what could have been the biggest mistake of my life. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I stormed off. My beloved was in the most vulnerable situation of her life, and I just walked away. It was not my finest hour. But fortunately, for me, and for Mary, and for the baby, God did not give up on me or abandon me to my own momentary weakness. Thank God that we do not have to be defined by such moments. 

After I stormed off I found myself sitting alone in my room, empty and numb and completely bewildered. And that’s when it happened. The best way I’ve been able to describe the experience is that I was enveloped by a presence. If you had there I don’t know if you would have seen or heard or felt anything, except, perhaps, what you saw reflected in my face, which must have been glowing with surprise and wonder and awe. There were no words, at least not in the usual way we talk about words, but the experience was powerful and life-changing. And the message was profoundly clear. I was loved. Mary was loved. Something extraordinary was happening. And I was invited to be a part of it. Please hear me, because this is important. It was an invitation. Not a command. Not a demand. I was invited to step out in faith and trust in something larger than myself. It seemed to me then, and seems to me still, that my life hung in the balance. I could accept this strange and bewildering gift, and my life would open up in one direction. Or I could reject the gift, and my life would close down in another direction. I know it sounds melodramatic, but that’s how it felt as I sat there surrounded by the light of sacred presence. Somehow I found the strength to accept the gift which was being offered, and I am convinced that even the strength was a part of the gift. And then the experience was over. What remained, however, was the absolute certainty that my life had changed forever.

Here Am I (Advent 4)

Luke 1: 26-38

Roger Lynn

December 23, 2018

4th Sunday in Advent

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

It must have been an overwhelming experience. Some might even say terrifying. A young woman from a simple, rural culture, finds herself suddenly faced with a direct and personal experience of the presence of God, in the form of an angel. It is worth noting that under almost any circumstances, encountering angels is apparently a frightening experience. Almost every time they show up, the first thing they have to say is, “Don’t be afraid!” I am quite confident that those will be the words they have to say should they ever decide to visit me. But, in the case of Mary, her encounter carried with it additional reasons for dread. She was to become pregnant in a most unconventional way, which could easily be misunderstood by the world in general and her betrothed in particular. In short, the angel brought Mary a message which had the power to upend her entire life. Regardless of how you understand this story, whether you take it literally or figuratively, the message is clear – this was very unsettling news.

Which is precisely what makes Mary’s response so powerful. When the angel has finished explaining this overwhelming and unsettling plan, Mary says, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38) And with those simple words she steps out in trusting faith on a journey which would forever change not only her life, but the very course of history itself. She joins the likes of Samuel, Isaiah, and even her own son who is yet to be, in responding to God’s call by offering nothing less than her life. “Here am I!” She could not have known all that such a response would mean, any more than any of us can look into the future and foresee how our lives will unfold. Her response was not based on certainty, or guarantees, or proof, and it certainly wasn’t based on a reasonable request. Her courageous response is rooted in an experience of God as One who can be trusted. “Here am I – work through me!”

Rejoice Always? (Advent 3)

Isaiah 12: 2-6 & Philippians 4: 4-7

Roger Lynn

December 16, 2018

3rd Sunday in Advent

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

It all sounds so wonderful. It is the way we want life to be. Paul tells the people in Philippi to rejoice in the Lord always! And then, just in case they didn’t believe him the first time, he tells them again. Isaiah proclaims to the Hebrew people that God has brought salvation and new life upon them. With joy they will draw from those wells, Isaiah tells them. And it all sounds so wonderful. Who wouldn’t want joy in their life all the time? But it also sounds a bit naive and unrealistic. Surely Paul and Isaiah didn’t understand what they were asking. How are we supposed to live like that in the real world?

It gets even more difficult to comprehend when you begin to understand the circumstances in which Paul and Isaiah delivered these proclamations of joy. In the church at Philippi there has been a fight between two of the strong leaders in the congregation. Where once there was unity there is now discord. People who had helped preach the Gospel are no longer even talking to each other. And Isaiah is addressing his message to the Hebrew people in a time when the Northern Kingdom had been annexed by neighboring Syria and the people of Judah and Jerusalem are living with the threat of a similar fate. Tensions are running high and anxiety is dominating every aspect of life. Neither of these situations seem like rejoicing would be a reasonable response. And yet, that is what is being called for.

Seeking Peace In Hostile Times (Advent 2)

Luke 1: 67-79 & Luke 3: 1-6

Roger Lynn

December 9, 2018

2nd Sunday in Advent

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You have only to listen to the news for a few minutes or scan the headlines of the daily paper to reach the conclusion that we live in hostile and dangerous times. Mass shootings occurring more often than we can even keep track of. Wars raging across the planet. Repressive governments violating basic human rights of their citizens. Famine and drought and wildfires and the growing effects of climate change devastating countless people’s lives. If we are paying attention at all it is easy to reach the conclusion that this is a frightening time to be alive. 

And yet, it is in the very midst of such times that we have the audacity to gather together here this morning and light the Advent candle of peace. We dare to declare that God’s peace is actually a reality which is, even now, breaking into our world. Such bold claims represent either a strong undergirding of faith or else something resembling insanity. And the line between those two positions is often difficult to distinguish.

Hopeful Anticipation (Advent 1)

Jeremiah 33: 12-16

Roger Lynn

December 2, 2018

1st Sunday in Advent

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

Today the season of Advent begins. It is a time for watching and waiting and anticipating and preparing. All of our spiritual senses are strained to catch a glimpse of God’s light coming into the world. It is no accident that this season occurs at the darkest time of the year. It is is these days when the darkness threatens to surround us completely that we most need to remind ourselves that it will not always be this way. God is at work, even now, restoring wholeness to the world. God is among us, even now, seeking to heal the brokenness of our lives and our world. 

Advent is a paradoxical season. We watch for that which is already here. We wait for that which is already true. We anticipate that which has already occurred. But in the watching and waiting and anticipating we make room for it to become real in our lives. If it were possible for us to be fully aware of, and fully in sync with, all of God’s activity around us, then we wouldn’t need seasons and rituals and symbols and traditions in the Church. We would just know and understand and appreciate and live in harmony with what God is doing among us. But one of the defining things about what it means to be human is that we forget. We need to be reminded, over and over again, before we can slowly begin to integrate our lives into the larger reality of God. So we catch glimpses of the truth that God has come to be among us and we tell stories of a baby being born. We keep telling the stories and we build up a variety of traditions around those stories. And we continue to do all of this with the hope that we will remember, deep down in the core of our being, that God’s light really has illuminated our darkness and continues to do so even now. And, we also know that this is not how we experience the world much of the time. If God’s light is right here, right now, then why does it still seem so dark? Why are we still fighting wars? Why are we still being cruel to each other? Why are there still so many people starving? So we tell more stories and create more traditions to help us deal honestly with these questions. We develop a season which is dedicated to themes of watching and waiting and anticipating and preparing. Not because God is somehow absent and needs to show up soon. But because until we practice being alert and watchful, we will continue to miss what is already true.

Blessed to Be a Blessing

Genesis 12: 1-2 & 1 Corinthians 12: 4-11

Roger Lynn

November 25, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

The turkey and dressing have been put away. The table has been cleared. The guests have all gone home. Some of you have been over the river and through the woods, and have now returned safely. In short, we have counted our blessings and expressed our gratitude. We are thankful people.

And now we have a choice. We can sit back, relax, and maybe take a little turkey-induced nap, basking in the warm glow of being abundantly blessed. Or we can ask the all-important theological question – “So what?” What does it all mean? Where does our gratitude lead us next? What do we do with our blessings? And when we take such questions seriously, and look deep inside of ourselves for the answers, we discover what Abraham discovered all those thousands of years ago when he heard God calling him to set out for the Promised Land (the life of blessings). The message he heard from God was this, “I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” The whole point of getting in touch with our blessings is to recognize the part we play in the whole grand abundant flowing river of blessing which connects us all. When we take such questions seriously we discover the truth which Paul shared with the church at Corinth. “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” What we begin to recognize is that we experience our gifts most fully and we are enriched by them most completely when we find ways to share them. That’s when we really begin to shine.

Alice Walker, author of “The Color Purple”, wrote a children’s book called “Finding the Green Stone.” In it she says what I set out to say in this sermon, so I decided to just let her say it. I invite you to sit back and listen to the story.

[read “Finding the Green Stone” by Alice Walker]

May we use our gifts to help each other find our gifts. May we recognize that we have been blessed to be a blessing to the world. May God’s love shine in us and through us. Amen.

Grateful Giving

Deuteronomy 14: 22-29 & 2 Corinthians 9: 6-10

Roger Lynn

November 11, 2018

Stewardship Commitment Sunday

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

“Previously, in this sermon series. . .” If this were a television show, that’s how this sermon would begin. This is part two in a two-part series focusing on the theme of stewardship. So, it will be helpful to spend a moment reviewing what we covered in part one. To sum up in one sentence what it took me about ten minutes to say last week, “We have been abundantly blessed by God.” Well, OK, it’s not quite that simple. But almost. Recognition and celebration of the fact that we are the recipients of God’s abundant and ongoing grace forms the foundation upon which our stewardship responses are built. As I said last week, “I am convinced that in all matters of faith, and that includes stewardship, our actions are in response to the primary action of God. We are encouraged and empowered to give because we have first received.” So, hopefully, you have spent some time this week reflecting not merely on your finances, but on the “grace-full” nature of your living. 

Awareness of our bounty, however, is only the first step. In order for a gift to be fully appreciated, and, indeed, for it to be fully used, there must be some kind of response of gratitude on the part of the recipient. It is how we human beings are put together. Because we have been created in the image of God, we have, built into the core of our being, a need to give. I know that there are those for whom the whole business of stewardship is an uncomfortable subject. There are some pastors who avoid the topic, or try to soft-pedal it, or apologize when they absolutely can’t get out of it. There are some church members, or even outside critics, who complain that all the church ever does is ask for money. But I am here to tell you that I am neither uncomfortable nor ashamed about being a whole-hearted supporter of the idea of stewardship. It is important. Indeed, it is a vital aspect of faith. It is about so much more than just money – it is about giving ourselves away in grateful response to the God who fills our lives with abundant grace.

Grace-full Living

Deuteronomy 14: 22-29 & 2 Corinthians 9: 6-10

Roger Lynn

November 4, 2018

Stewardship Emphasis

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

“She is such an amazing athlete. Her moves are so graceful.” “His graceful dancing is a delight to watch.” “The lines of that building are so graceful and elegant.” Graceful is a word we use on a fairly regular basis, in a number of different settings, and yet we mostly fail to recognize the potential of its meaning. We associate it with elegance and poise and beauty. But we don’t always remember the theological roots of the word. That’s why, in case you hadn’t noticed, I took the liberty of modifying the spelling when I used it for the stewardship theme this year. To experience graceful living is to experience a life which is full of grace. When defining grace, the dictionary has this to say: “a) Divine love and protection bestowed freely on people. b) The state of being protected or sanctified by the favor of God.” A life full of God’s love is grace-full living. And the good news is that everyone everywhere has the possibility for such a life because God is fully present in every time and every place and every person. The question then is not whether our living is full of grace, but whether we pay enough attention to allow such grace to become manifest in our lives and make a difference.

This is a stewardship sermon. It is, in fact, the first in a two-part series. I hope that by the time I’m finished preaching both sermons we will have explored some of what it means to be a giving people. So, towards that end, it was a very deliberate decision to begin by focusing not on giving but on receiving. I am convinced that in all matters of faith, and that includes stewardship, our actions are in response to the primary action of God. We are encouraged and empowered to give because we have first received. That is, by the way, the theological rationale for placing the offering after the Lord’s Supper in our order of worship. As the bulletin reminds us each week, “Having received the gift of God’s grace, we are invited to respond by sharing our time, our talents and our treasures.” We are able to give because we are truly wealthy people – in more than merely a financial sense. It is appropriate, then, that we begin our consideration of stewardship by reminding ourselves of the many countless ways in which we have been abundantly blessed by God.

How To Become A Saint

Isaiah 25: 6-8 & Revelation 21: 1-5a

Roger Lynn

October 28, 2018

All Saints

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

We are just a few days away from November 1st, the day when the church traditionally celebrates “All Saints.” The idea of a saint has taken on various meanings over the years, but in its original usage in the New Testament, it is roughly synonymous with “the faithful” or “those who belong to Christ.” So, for example, Paul writes to the Church in Rome and says, “To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints...” (Romans 1:7) With this understanding of the word, it becomes an expansive and inclusive concept, rather than narrow and exclusive.

So, how does one go about becoming a saint? What are the pre-requisites? What are the job requirements? What do we need to do? Natural enough questions, but mostly they reveal the limitations of our human perspective. Most of the time it seems as if we approach situations with the idea that we can accomplish whatever is necessary if only we can figure out what needs to be done and how best to do it. Which works remarkably well if we are trying to build a bridge across a river or learn a foreign language or decode genetic information. But when it comes to relationships, both human and divine, such an approach has serious limitations. And relationship is finally what being a saint is all about. We can’t just collect enough data and feed it into a computer in just the right way and come up with the formula for sainthood. At the heart of the matter, sainthood is a new way of relating with God and with each other. It is living in the presence of God. It isn’t so much about what we do as it is about who we are. And who we are is defined by the fact that we are fully and completely loved by God. When we begin to live into that reality then we begin to discover what is already true – we are already a part of the communion of God’s beloved saints.

A Word of Hope from a Patient but Insistent God

Luke 18: 1-8

Roger Lynn

October 21, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

There is much in our world which cries out for justice and healing. You can make the list as easily as I can – wars and violence, hatred and intolerance, suffering and disease, isolation and loneliness. The brokenness of our world spans the spectrum from the global to the personal. And through all the tears we continue to wonder why – why is it happening and why isn’t God doing something about it? 

Jesus’ parable which we read this morning has often been offered as a response to our questions of why. And I confess that the interpretation it usually receives has frequently left me less than satisfied. In fact, it is seriously problematic. God is the unjust, uncaring judge and we are the poor, bereft widow. We don’t know why God doesn’t respond to our needs, but if we keeping beating on God’s door until we’ve made a complete nuisance of ourselves, then perhaps God will do something just so we will go away. 

It scores points in the “God’s ways are a mystery to us” category, but is not very appealing when it comes to offering a helpful image of God or a hopeful understanding of our own situation. The assurance Jesus offers at the end of the parable, that God will surely not delay in offering us justice, seems out of sync with the common interpretation of the parable.

Believing in God plus Experiencing God

Jeremiah 31: 33-34a & Revelation 21: 3-5a

Roger Lynn

October 14, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.” From time to time I see this message proclaimed from a billboard along the side of the highway. And every time I see it I wonder to myself, “What does that even mean?” For one thing, it is archaic language. We don’t actually talk that way any more. So I don’t really know what it means to believe “on” Jesus. It is not my intention to belittle people who use such language to express their faith. It just doesn’t work for me, in part because of the archaic language, but perhaps more significantly because of the emphasis on “believing.” As it was originally used when the New Testament was first written, the word “believe” was closely related to the word “trust.” It was personal, connectional, and relational. In short, in was powerfully heart centered. Unfortunately, over the last 2,000 years our understanding of this incredibly important word has largely migrated away from the heart and taken up residence in the head. Believing has become synonymous with giving assent to a set of precepts, principles, and dogmas. It frequently ends up being little more than an intellectual exercise. “Yes, I believe that this check-list of ideas is true.” There are conversations about God, and Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, but all too often such conversations don’t actually involve anything that could be described as personal experience. It stays in the head but doesn’t touch the heart. 

Admittedly this is a big generalization. Of course there are many people who use words like “believe” to describe their faith who have rich, vibrant, personal, heart-centered relationships with God. At the same time, however, I suspect that there are many other people for whom words such as “believe” prove to be a barrier which limits their access to the transforming power of a deep personal experience of Sacred Presence (aka God). It can be something like the picture on the front of the bulletin. Both halves of the image reveal a butterfly, but without the heart connection which comes with personal experience our perceptions can lack color and depth and vibrancy. 

When I first conceived of this sermon I titled it “Believing in God versus Experiencing God.” But then I began actually working on it, and as I started to put words together and what I really wanted to say began to take shape I came to realize that my thinking had evolved and the title needed to be changed. The word “versus” needed to be replaced. It isn’t an either/or, this versus that, contrasting competition sort of a thing. It’s not that believing is bad and experiencing is good. What I am really trying to suggest is that it takes both halves to make a whole. Head and heart are both needed.

That having been said, however, I still come back to my main concern. Head and heart may both be needed, but for a long time now we have had a tendency to over-value what happens in our heads and under-value what happens in our hearts. So our lives, and our faith, have tended to become out of balance. Of course we need to pay attention to the work of our intellect. Words matter. Ideas matter. But without the important work that takes place in the heart our words and ideas tend to calcify and become rigid. We have a tendency to turn them into rocks to throw at people who disagree with us instead of blankets to wrap around people who need to be comforted. There is a need to give the heart its due, so that we can find our balance once again. In the words of Carrie Newcomer, “Let your head help, but let your heart talk.” In the words of the prophet Jeremiah, as he sought to speak on behalf of God, “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.” (Jeremiah 31:33)  It’s all about relationship. It’s all about connection. It’s all about experience. And when we get in touch with that truth then everything is transformed.

We might not be able to see God. We might not always be able to understand God. But it is within our grasp to experience God. When the wind blows I can’t see it, and I do not understand the physics behind what makes it blow, but I can feel it on my face. When I am in the presence of someone I love it is not necessary for me to “believe” that they are real or that they have a powerful impact in my life. I simply know it because my heart perceives the deep truth of our connection. 

Let the word go forth among us from this day on, that God is inviting us to live ever more fully into the experience of being in connection with the Sacred Presence which surrounds us and fills us in every moment of our living. Let us take our faith to the next level as we bring head and heart into balance. Let us step boldly into this new reality as we open ourselves to the power of being touched and moved and transformed by an ongoing encounter with the Divine. Amen.

The Meal Which Unites Us

1 Corinthians 10: 16-17 & 1 Corinthians 11: 23-25

Roger Lynn

October 7, 2018

World Communion Sunday

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

Why do we do it? Why do we continue to gather around the communion table and share together in this symbolic feast? Because Jesus did it? Almost 2,000 years ago a man shared a meal with twelve of his friends on the night before he died. What does that have to do with us? Because Paul told the Church at Corinth it was important? Paul told the early churches lots of things. Why have we chosen to make this one so central to our lives? Because it has been a part of the Church’s tradition for almost 20 centuries. “Because we’ve always done it this way” is not the firmest of foundations upon which to build a solid and lasting community. 

Perhaps we gather to break the bread and share the cup because we hope and pray and believe that it is true – that behind the symbols and the words and the rituals which make up this thing we call Communion or the Lord’s Supper or the Eucharist stands nothing less than the very presence of God. We trust it is God whom we find here. We believe it is God’s Grace which is revealed in the breaking of the bread and the pouring of the cup. We hope that around this table we will discover the source for abundant life.

But even then – even when we can make that kind of affirmation of faith about the Lord’s Supper – we must still return to the question, “Why do we do it?” Or at least we must ask, “Why do we do it this way?” It is not a private endeavor, this communion which we share. It is a celebration which is open to all who will come. Indeed, it is most fully experienced and most deeply rewarding when it is fully shared with those around us. This is not simply about our relationship with God – it is also about our relationship with one another. As we encounter God’s love we are opened to the possibility of loving each other. As we experience God’s grace we are empowered to share forgiveness with our neighbor. We gather around this table and share together in this sacred ritual in the hopes that we will encounter God and each other in ways which will transform our lives, our living, and our world.

And what makes all of this particularly amazing is that we continue to hold out such hope in spite of our track record thus far. After almost 2,000 years of striving to be the Church which God calls us to be, we have seen fights and splits and wars over how we gather around this table, and what happens when we gather here, and who can gather here, and who can preside here. We live in a time when there are more different denominations than there are kinds of cars, and all of them, in one form or another, view the Lord’s Supper as being important, and yet many of us are barely on speaking terms with each other. The United Church of Christ is a denomination which brought together four diverse groups of churches in an effort to experience the unity of the Body of Christ, and yet there are still conflicts and divisions within our ranks. During my time in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) I attended numerous gatherings of their biennial General Assembly, where we shared the bread and the cup with several thousands people, even though the tension which was present around issues being addressed at the assembly threatened to tear us apart at the seams. 

The Church’s track record has not supported our claim that “at the Table of the Lord we are made one with the whole people of God.” Paul’s assertion that “we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” has often seemed more theoretical than practical. But perhaps our persistence in returning to the table, even in the face of such overwhelming failure, makes a claim for the ability of God’s grace to transcend even the shortcomings of the whole Church. We gather today to celebrate World Communion Sunday. In countless places around the world, in a wide variety of settings, using a diversity of languages and traditions and practices, countless millions of people will meet to share the bread and the cup which is the Lord’s Supper. We remember that today we are joined not just by those who are here in this place, or even by those who share with us in the United Church of Christ, but by Christians of every time and every place who gather around this table and share together in this meal. And as we do so we readily acknowledge that full, concrete, practical unity has not yet been achieved among us. Indeed, in more ways than we even care to think about we have a very long way to go. But even the longest of journeys begins with a single step, and is sustained by continuing to take one step at a time. Today we take one small step as we remember that we are not alone around this table. The reality is that we are all united in Christ. By the grace of God may we begin to live into that reality with our whole being. Come, let us gather together around this most expansive of tables!

God Beyond Our Boxes

Jonah 3: 10 – 4: 11 & Matthew 20: 1-16

Roger Lynn

September 30, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

God has a serious attitude problem! It’s been going on for a long time now, and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better. For some reason which seems difficult for us to fathom, God simply refuses to cooperate in acting the way we think God should act. Time and time again we have a very clear understanding of what God should do in some particular circumstance or another. And time and time again God chooses to defy us – challenging our best wisdom and acting in ways which fly in the face of accepted cultural norms.

OK, so my tongue may have been located firmly in my cheek! And yet, I suspect many of you found yourselves smiling uncomfortably in recognition of the sentiment. Faith is often an experience of growth because it challenges us to rethink our understanding of God, the world, and even ourselves. What does it mean when we open ourselves to the possibility of God beyond our boxes?

Walking with God - Living with Integrity

Isaiah 50: 4-9a & Mark 8: 27-30

Roger Lynn

September 23, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

We like to talk about faith in terms of the gifts we receive through our participation in this way of living – the support and the joy which comes from following the path of faith. But the truth is that this business of faithful living is not always easy. Walking with God and seeking to follow where we think God is leading us can take us into some rather unsettling, and even frightening, territory. This is true not because God leads us into harm’s way, but because the world is not always ready to receive the gifts which faith prompts us to offer. The good news of love and acceptance and forgiveness and peace and generosity and compassion can seem threatening to those who only know how to experience the world through a filter of fear. And frightened people sometimes lash out at whatever they perceive to be the source of their fear.

And so, we would be less than honest to talk about faith only in terms of the gifts. The writer of Isaiah understood this. “I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.” (Isaiah 50:6) For Isaiah, faith included suffering. Jesus understood this. He told his disciples that he “must undergo great suffering, and be rejected . . . and be killed.” (Mark 8:31) Those of us who seek to be followers of Christ need to remember that the one we are following ended up on a cross. The path of faith can be a risky one.

At the same time, however, we would also be telling less than the whole truth if we talk about faith only in terms of the risks. While it is true that living faithfully can lead us into the shadow places which are filled with life’s pain, that is never the whole story, and certainly is never the end of the story. Isaiah knew this as well. “God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; . . . I know that I shall not be put to shame; the one who vindicates me is near. . . It is God who helps me; who will declare me guilty?” (Isaiah 50:7-9) Jesus knew this also. In the face of determined, and in the end even violent, opposition, from both outside and inside his circle of friends, he stayed the course and remained true to his vision of life because of his confidence that God would be with him come what may. 

Trauma and Healing: Lessons from Faith

Luke 15: 11-24

Roger Lynn

September 16, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

It began with stomach cramps and what we thought was a severe case of acid indigestion. Fast forward a month and my world was turned upside down and inside out as I stood in the corner of the hospital room holding two of my daughters while the doctors quietly declared that my wife was dead. Trauma comes in a variety of forms and has its roots in a myriad of causes. Sometimes we can see it coming, and sometimes it catches us by surprise. But regardless of the details, when it finds its way into our life it has the power to completely undo us. Nothing is ever quite the same again. There is no going back to the way things were before. The only choice is between being lost and being found, between staying broken and being healed. 

Living Into God’s Reality

Isaiah 35: 4-7 & James 2: 14-17

Roger Lynn

September 9, 2018

(click here for the audio for this sermon)
(click here for the video for this sermon)

We live in a world that is filled with images of violence and hatred. It can be frightening to live here sometimes. This week is the seventeenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and while the specific attention to that day has diminished over the years, there is still lots of fearful talk floating around about the dangers we face in the world. There is frequently lots of talk about justice, but when we listen closely it often sounds a lot like vengeance and retribution. It sounded a lot like making sure that someone gets punished in response to our pain.

The people in Isaiah’s day who were living in Babylonian exile also knew about pain. They had been ripped from family and home and faith, and subjected to domination by a foreign power. They wanted justice, and the justice they wanted looked a lot like vengeance. They wanted someone else to suffer for their pain. And so Isaiah writes to this exile community and he speaks about God’s vengeance. “Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. God will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. God will come and save you.’ ” (Isaiah 35:4) I can almost hear the exiles’ response to these words. “It’s about time! I can hardly wait for God to let these awful, godless Babylonians have it! Let the punishing begin.” And then comes the very next verse. The writer of Isaiah is brilliant. He has sucked us in by using words like vengeance and “terrible recompense.” And then he delivers the death blow to that entire way of thinking by turning everything completely upside down. You want vengeance, says Isaiah. Well, here’s what God’s vengeance looks like. “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes.” (Isaiah 35:5-7) That is the world of God’s reality. That is what it looks like when God has God’s way in the world!

Get Up & Eat

1 Kings 19: 4-8

Roger Lynn

August 26, 2018

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(click here for the video for this sermon)

David Wilcox sings a song about a man in the midst of a mid-life crisis of meaning. He heads off to India and climbs into the mountains to find the “Wise Man” who will be able to offer him the words of wisdom which will give new meaning and purpose to his life. The wise man’s surprising answer is, in part, to get up and eat some broccoli. And while I might have chosen a different source of nutrition, the point is well taken. Sometimes when life gets overwhelming we forget to take care of ourselves physically, emotionally, spiritually, which only serves to exacerbate the problem of perspective.

The prophet Elijah was in a hard spot. He found himself on the wrong side of the queen, and his life was at risk. He gets overwhelmed and chooses to respond to the situation by running away. Not only does he run away, but along the way he pouts and whines as well. Taking a page out of the play book from the Israelites’ days in the wilderness, he says to God, “Just kill me now! Get it over with. Life is horrible and I can’t see any reason to go on.” God’s answer, like that of the wise man in Wilcox’ song, is surprisingly simple. “Get up and eat.” God has to say it twice, because Elijah wasn’t ready to hear it the first time. “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” (1 Kings 19:7)

Re-Imagining God

Song of Solomon 2: 8-13

Roger Lynn

August 19, 2018

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It may be true that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but the names we use do matter. How we describe something, or someone, has a profound impact on how we experience that which is being described. My neighbor may be the kindest, gentlest person on the planet, but if I’ve got it in my head that he is angry, violent, and abusive I’m not likely to invite him over for dinner. Nor am I likely to encourage my family and friends to spend time with him. The names we use do matter.

How we talk about God matters. It doesn’t change who God is, but it certainly affects how we experience God. And it affects how we relate to the world “in God’s name.” Throughout history there have been countless names for God. Even just within our own tradition there are a great many. The hymns and readings we are using in today’s service lift up several of these. And yet, the lion’s share of the time God is described with a very small handful of names. Even just a casual glance through our hymnal reveals how often “Father” and/or “Lord” show up. Both have gender-exclusive limitations. Both have patriarchal and hierarchical overtones. Lord has militaristic and/or feudal implications. And yet, these two names are frequently the only terms people use to reference God. 

In poetry, when trying to describe something vast and incomprehensible, a wide variety of images and descriptive words are brought to bear. Imagine what might happen if we were to use that same approach with our understanding of God. How might our lives and our world be transformed if we began to “re-imagine” God? 

Coming To Our Senses

Psalm 95: 1-5 & Genesis 1: 26-31

Roger Lynn

August 12, 2018

Breakfast Under the Big Sky

(there is no audio or video for this week – they will be available again next Sunday)

As living, breathing human beings who have been created in the image of God we have ways of perceiving reality that go beyond just what is possible through our five senses. We are spiritual beings as well as physical beings. We are more than just our bodies. But we are not less than our bodies. Much of how we experience the world around us, even its spiritual dimensions, happens through touching, tasting, hearing, seeing, and smelling. The ancient Hebrew people understood this. They had a holistic view of who we are as human beings – body and spirit are not separate and distinct, but deeply and intricately intertwined and interconnected. We see this understanding reflected in the worship practices of the church down through the centuries as well. Incense has been used, candles have been lit, bells have been rung, foreheads have been anointed with oil, communion wine has been shared. Various means have been used to engage our senses in the experience of worship. But in spite of such practices and deeply embedded understandings, all too often we forget. There seem to be so many forces conspiring to cut us off from sensual experiences – from the air-conditioned air we breath and the processed food we eat to the ways we are often encouraged to avoid touching each other or even looking at each other. We get out of touch with our senses, lose sight of our humanity, and become disconnected from God. 

So every once in a while it is important for us to be intentional about taking steps to help us remember. Occasionally we need to come to our senses, literally. That is the real reason why we bring our worship out to a setting such as this. It presents us with a fresh opportunity to rediscover the ways in which our senses connect us with the rich spiritual dimensions of our lives. Take just a moment to become aware of the world around you. What do you see? What do you smell? What do you hear? What do you taste? What do you feel? How long has it been since you last remembered to be aware of these sensations? Imagine that they are additional lines of connection linking you to God’s gift of creation. Imagine that they are additional pathways leading you to God. 

It Happened at Dance Camp

1 Chronicles 13:8
Roger Lynn
August 5, 2018
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Susan and I spent this past week on the shores of Flathead Lake at Wilderness Dance Camp. We joined with about 85 other people to share together in singing and dancing and praying and playing together. And when I say dancing I mean that we join hands in a circle, with the musicians in the center, moving our bodies using movements that evoke the meaning of the sacred words we are singing. We were women and men, young and old, single and partnered, gay and straight, from near and far. We sang in English and Spanish, Hebrew and Greek, Arabic and Aramaic, Mayan and Sanskrit. The words we sang were Christian and Jewish and Islamic. They were Buddhist and Hindu. They were Mayan and Native American. And in all of that rich variety and diversity, what we experienced was a unity of Spirit as we came together in sacred space and opened ourselves to the One Sacred Presence which goes by many names and is beyond the capacity of any name to fully capture. 

Brokenness & Death – Wholeness & New Life

Mark 5: 21-43

Roger Lynn

July 22, 2018

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Considering that the stories come to us across a span of almost 2,000 years, the situations seem surprisingly familiar. We know about suffering. We know about feeling cut off. We know about death. The stories of Jesus’ interactions with the pain of his day are stories with which we can identify.

In the course of his travels, Jesus encounters a man who is terrified that he will lose the most precious thing in his life – his daughter. She is very ill and he is out of options. Perhaps it is faith which drives him to seek out Jesus. Perhaps it is desperation. Perhaps it is something of both. But regardless of how he comes to this point of openness in his life, the man invites Jesus to make a difference. “Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” (Mark 5:23) Unspoken in that plea is the additional hope that in the healing of his daughter he himself might also be restored to wholeness and find life again. So, driven by compassion, Jesus starts out with him for his home and daughter. But before he gets there other pain intervenes. This time it is a woman who has suffered for many years from a bleeding disorder. It is worth noting that such a condition would have meant far more than just physical suffering. Under Jewish law, such a condition would have rendered her ritually unclean. She would, in effect, have been cut off from her family, her friends and her community – a social outcast. It is not hard to imagine the desperation which led her to resort to such a desperate plan. She had heard the stories about Jesus – that he was a healer, a miracle worker, a man of God. As Jesus was walking with the crowd towards the home of Jairus she saw her chance and she took it. As with Jairus, it was probably a mixture of faith and extreme need which prompted her to reach out and touch his cloak. She probably didn’t know exactly what to expect, but what she found was healing. What she found was new life. Jesus said to her, “Go in peace.” And for the first time in twelve years she began to believe that peace might indeed be a possibility in her life.