The People of God at Their Best

I just got back from a week in Mississippi with a team of folks from town who were rebuilding houses five years after Katrina demolished communities on the Gulf Coast. There were thirty-three of us from the five Methodist churches in town (plus two token Baptists whom we elected as honorary Methodists for the week). We worked on four different houses in various stages of completion. We worked hard, ate well, had great fun. Oh, did I mention that we paid our own way down there?

If you're reading this and are not connected to the church you may wonder: "Is there still Katrina damage in Mississippi?" Indeed there is, and except for a few Lutherans, the Methodist Church is the only denomination with a significant presence still working on recovery. In fact, the United Methodist Church is the third largest builder of homes in Mississippi over the last few years.

Another question: "Why would anyone pay their own way to go and work for free to provide homes for people in Mississippi?" The short answer is this - It's the kind of thing Jesus would do. In 2 Corinthians, chapter 8, the apostle Paul says something about Jesus becoming poor so that by his poverty we might become rich. There are few of his followers who are willing to do the same for others, but at the very least we are often willing to share out of our abundance to lift people out of desperate situations. And when we do we are being the kind of people Jesus wants us to be, the church at its best. We offer generosity to others because we recognize the graciousness of God toward us. We offer generosity out of our best intentions. But more often than not, what we receive is worth more than what we have given. We receive satisfaction. We receive the gratitude of others. We receive blessings for which there is no way to attach monetary value. We give out of our abundance, but we end up receiving more than we give. That's one of those mysterious equations that followers of Jesus can never quite solve, but which almost everyone of us has experienced.

Anyway, there's an estimated two years worth of work still to be done in Mississippi. We'll be sending a team next year. I suspect there will be more people going next time. Sharing love tends to be contagious. If you'd like to join the people of God at their best, you are welcome to come with us. . . God's Peace!

What the Bible Says About Immigration

We are eager to claim Biblical support for whatever opinion we already hold on various issues facing society and culture. This is certainly true regarding the issue of immigration. Or, we might ignore scripture altogether in favor of our own bias rather than considering seriously the guidance God provides for those who seek to live in a holy community. The following brief but excellent article from the Washington Post provides a balanced treatment of the Biblical narrative in regard to how a community is to treat the "stranger" among them. Perhaps a Biblical approach might bridge the gap between conservatives and liberals on this issue.

http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/brad_hirschfield/2010/05/welcoming_bibles_stranger_may.html?hpid=talkbox1

{You may have to cut and paste the above link.}

Festival of Homiletics

Wow! I'm in Nashville. Walking down Broadway there are country music bars with live music at lunch time, neon guitars advertising happy hour, multiple stores for getting your cowboy hats, boots and authentic western wear at discount prices (Three pairs of boots for the price of one!), and fiddlers on the sidewalk, hoping for donations in their open fiddle cases.

What am I doing here? Attending the annual Festival of Homiletics. What is (or are) homiletics? Some strange cult? Some sort of 12-step support group? I'm sure the city of Nashville is wondering about the sign hanging outside the entrance to First Baptist Church. Well, "homiletics" is the art of preaching. And here we are, some 800 preachers gathered, not to preach but to hear others preach, to learn more about the art of preaching, to be inspired, to celebrate the gift we have been given, the privilege we have been awarded, to preach week-in and week-out. As Nashville singer-songwriter, Ashley Cleveland, belted out her opening spiritual, "I was born to preach the gospel," we joined in giving thanks to God for the joy of preaching.

Of course, some of our lecturers have pointed out what we all know, there is a burden to preaching as well. The act of preaching is both bane and blessing. There is the weekly necessity of coming up with a word for Sunday which, in the midst of pastoral emergencies and the pragmatic needs of daily church life, does not always feel like a Word from God. But, every now and then, there is an "aha" moment, when the text of scripture calls forth a sermon that almost preaches itself (Lauren Winner likens it to the rush of heroin addiction - perhaps too dangerous an analogy!). That "aha" moment is a gift from God which keeps preachers like me coming back to the scripture week after week expecting the same thing to happen (perhaps a healthy and holy addiction).

I have often said that as a preacher what I need most to nurture my spiritual life is to hear other preachers. So, this week I am feasting my ears on the best preaching the church of Jesus Christ has to offer, in the company of others who have been called to this peculiar vocation.

In my first church, in the mountains of North Carolina, more often than not, when people addressed me, they called me "preacher," not "reverend," not "pastor." Ever since then I more often am addressed as pastor, and only in formal introductions as reverend. I miss "preacher." Because that is who God called me to be, a caretaker of the Word. A proclaimer of the evangel. A prophet against the powers and principalities. The world laughs at preachers - irrelevant, outdated, insignificant. But God promises that when the Word is spoken faithfully, it will not return empty. So, bouyed up by my colleagues in this homiletical art, and encouraged by my congregation, I prepare each week to do this strange (in the eyes of the world) task. But then, I can't help but do it. Like Ashley Cleveland sang, "I was born to preach the gospel, and I sure do like my job!"

Joy

Our family will be celebrating this weekend. My son, Wilson, will be marrying Carol, a member of our congregation, whom he has dated for almost seven years. The wedding will be an occasion of joy, to be sure. I am looking forward to it and, while I am not expecting water to be turned to wine at this wedding, I do expect Jesus to show up and join us in our celebration.

I have the need for a joyful weekend. There has been so much tragedy lately, not only in the world news, but also in and among our congregation. I have been doubly aware of the burdens some people carry, and perhaps I have been unknowingly trying to carry some of those burdens myself. It is a common mistake - out of some sense of empathy to wish to carry someone's burden, to lighten their load. Oh, I know, someone will quote Paul, "bear one another's burdens." However, none of us is capable of carrying another's burden, at least, not by ourselves. Why, we can barely carry our own! At most, what we can do is be present with someone else. Never underestimate the power of presence. Being there. Showing up. Presence is a powerful ministry.

Jesus says, "Take my yoke upon you, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Notice, Jesus does not say, "I am going to remove your burdens." No. What Jesus says is he will give you a burden, but it is a burden you can bear more easily than the burdens the world places on us. What I have always suspected is that Jesus is picturing a double yoke, in which we are paired with Jesus himself. He takes our load upon himself. He takes the pain and agony of our sorrows. He takes the disappointment of our regrets. He takes our missed opportunities, our tragic grief, and anything else that weighs us down and then he does the pulling. He takes the full load, including our sin, if we will let him. That is a big "if." How often we fail to trust Jesus' capability to bear the load, so we begin to pull and pull, and the burden becomes heavy on us again. We are pulling against the one who seeks to "bear all our sorrows." We are pulling against the one who "would heal all our diseases." We are pulling against the one whom Isaiah said came to carry "all our iniquities."

"Take my yoke upon you," he says. He wants us to find rest. He wants us to claim joy. And there is joy to be found. Even in the midst of the disasters, crises and traumas of life, we are often surprised by joy. A friend has posted on his office door, "Never let anyone rob you of the joy of your salvation." That's good advice. In seasons of sorrow, we need reminding of the joy - the joy of marital love; the pleasure of watching your children mature and claim their own gifts and joys; the good times shared by family and friends; the weekly gathering of God's people, happily reconnecting during a sabbath rest; the joy of our salvation. There is joy possible in every life. There is joy built into every week. There is rest for our weary souls. At least that's the way God planned it. Release your burdens. Let Christ Jesus bear your load.

Meanwhile, I'm putting on my "wedding garment" and getting ready for our big day. Hmm, maybe a wedding is our best preparation for the Big Day God has planned for all of us, when all our sorrows will be no more and Christ will claim his bride - the Church. That Big Day reminds us that joy is what God has planned for us, so we need to start rehearsing for it now, don't you think? Find a reason for joy today. Be grateful. Count your blessings. Remember that joy is what God has in store for us all.

Counting the Cost

I hesitate to write this but I have an itch and need to scratch it. The recent tragedy in the Gulf of Mexico, leading to the loss of life on an oil rig, and the unfolding ecological nightmare, serves as an object lesson on competing "costs" in the decisions we make.

A few years ago as gas prices rocketed upwards, the cry rang out for more off-shore exploration. "Drill now," was the mantra of those who urged for energy independence. After all, oil is the life-blood of the modern economy. Those who urged caution were castigated as naive idealists, unwilling to face the economic and political realities of a changing world.

Now, in the wake of this spreading disaster, likely to take a toll on a Gulf Coast that is still vulnerable after Hurricane Katrina's effects, the voices that cried out for drilling now sound shrill and their vision short-sighted. The economic and political realities of this oil spill are likely to be catastrophic for people, fish and fowl for some time to come.

In counting the cost of decisions we make, we rarely take into account the unforeseen. We often ignore the unintended consequences of our actions. While no one can account for every disaster or catastrophe, the failure of supposedly "fail-safe" safety measures to work demonstrates either a lack of preparedness, or plain human arrogance. We hope for the best and rarely plan for the worst. We do not count the cost.

Jesus said something about "counting the cost," of discipleship. In Luke 14:28-30, Jesus suggests that a man who begins to build a tower but doesn't prepare for the cost of finishing it will appear a fool to observers. We might wonder if the petroleum company which is responsible for the oil rig in question has adequately prepared for the possibility of disaster. But the cost, in this case, is greater than the billions of dollars it will take to clean up the mess. There is the collateral cost of lost livlihoods, damage to the ecosystem, and lost tourism - costs not likely to be borne by the petroleum company in question. The costs of "something going wrong," you see, have not been factored in, in the interests of immediate satisfaction and immediate financial gain. And at the risk of sounding cynical, well-paid lobbyists will probably influence politicians to keep it that way.

There is a cost to all the choices we make. We choose to make a quick buck, perhaps, ignorant of unintended consequences to others. Or, maybe we just don't care. There's plenty of that attitude in the world.

But Jesus calls us to care. Jesus calls us to count the cost. Jesus calls us to take into account how our actions have consequences for good, or ill. Good intentions, perhaps, are not enough. Perhaps we need to look ahead and see if we have enough to finish the tower before we begin. Perhaps we need to look ahead and see that in following Jesus, there may be a cross on a hill for us as well. And what a difference that cost is, compared to the lesson of the oil spill.

In counting the cost of following Jesus, it is the followers of Jesus who bear the cost on behalf of others, rather than expecting someone else to pick up the tab. You see, we follow the example of Jesus whose life-blood was spilled for the sake of a broken world, where failure to count the cost is seen as good business. Followers of Jesus are not in this life for the short-term gain, but for the long-haul, indeed, for eternity. We are not here to take what we can get while we can get it, and then make a heavenly exit in the nick of time. No, we are here expecting a new heaven and a new earth, and a new Jerusalem where God will dwell with us on this good creation (Revelation 21:1-6). What we do to this creation matters in the overall scheme of things. It is important to count the cost, the whole cost, for our generation and for generations to come.