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.
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!
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.
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.
John 14: 1-3 & 1 Peter 2: 4-6 & 9-10
Roger LynnMay 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?
