Fellowship Reformed Church of Holland

April 29, 2018
Acts 17:22-31
Nate Schipper

April 22, 2018
Acts 4:32-35
Lindsay Small

Disney World was not a destination of my childhood. My family was more the ‘church camp-or wherever the summer church annual meeting was located’ kind of vacation family.

We weren’t deprived by any means. We traveled quite a bit (to relatives in California and other places)…but rarely south…and never to the happiest place on earth.

And so maybe this was the reason that the very minute I thought our kids were ready for Disney…off we went.

Leaving a baby Maggie home with my parents, we took the olders to Orlando. And our first stop was of course, the Magic Kingdom.

We made our way down main street as a crowd was gathering around the castle…the castle…you know, the one that has begun every movie I’ve seen over the past 10 years. The one that changes color, shoots fireworks, and serves as the focal point for every fairy tale Disney has animated..

It is the embodiment of happily ever after…

And it was the location of the show that was just getting underway when we reached the end of Main Street.

The show starred Mickey of course. But soon the whole gang joined in…Minnie, Goofy, Donald and Daffy…

Then the princesses came out…all of them, each with the appropriately proportioned prince…

And they danced and swirled and lip synched…

But all of a sudden, the evil witch Maleficent burst out from the castle…with pyrotechnics to match her evil, amplified laugh…and she threatened to steal everyone’s dreams. Cue evil laugh again…as if stealing dreams is funny? Mickey and his compadres cower in fear. With classic exaggerated affect…”Oh no! She will steal our dreams!!!”

And then Mickey came forward to the crowd, and tells us all that if we believe in our dreams…we can do anything.

So 1, 2, 3…dream!

And the power of our dreams blew Maleficent over and everybody does a song and dance…and the music swells…and the sparkling fireworks go off…and every lives happily ever after!

I don’t know if it was the early flight, the 5 years of sleep deprivation, or the magic sparkle dust Disney pumps into the air…but I suddenly realized that this saline- type substance had welled up in my eyes.

Whatever they were selling at that castle…I was buying. I believed in fairy tales.

Until about 6:00 that night when both kids suffered major meltdowns…

Disney thrives off the 4 minute fairy tale…the broad strokes of happiness…the lack of nuance and problems…

Once upon a time…introduce complication…resolve complication at the very last second possible…happily ever after.

And it works for kids…and adults too! Until we realize that fairy tale moments are fleeting…pretty soon our feet hurt, we’re hungry, and we’re looking for relief on the other side of ‘happily ever after.’

I’m finding that more and more…that’s the story I want to hear.

What happens on the other side? What was Cinderella and Prince Charming’s marriage like 15 years later? Did he unbunch his socks before putting them in the dirty clothes? I’d like to know!

I find that way more interesting than whether or not the shoe fit… What happens on the other side of ever after?

I mention all of this because today’s passage can easily be seen as the ultimate Biblical Fairy Tale…

The once upon a time when everything was perfect…the four minute show in front of the castle…

Our story begins in Acts chapter 4, beginning in verse 32: Once upon a time (that’s not really there…)

2 All the believers were one in heart and mind. Lots of sharing here…

Everyone getting along there…

 And then Prince Joseph from the Kingdom of Cyprus…but he’s also know as Barnabas, because that sounds just like Joseph…sells his field, brings the money to the royal subjects…

 And everyone lives happily ever after. (that’s not really in there either).

There are so many things to love about this passage, but honestly, there’s an equal measure to be wary of as well.

The tale it tells is beautiful…a community of believers who are of one mind, one heart, one wallet…

And if this is where the story ended…it could have easily been filed into classic fairy tale literature, set to music, and won an Oscar for best animated movie…

Luke’s scene paints broad strokes: he uses words like EVERYONE and NO ONE.

And I at least find myself asking, “Really? Everyone shared? Everyone got along?"

That’s what it says.

But place this passage in its larger context…in the book of Acts…and we know that it is anything but happily ever after…

These few verses are the Disney castle in the midst of a mess.

Once upon a time, people were sharing, selling, providing for one another.

But all around them, they were being persecuted, run out, questioned, and even killed.

—-

The passage immediately following this one is one of the most disturbing tales in all of scripture…

Ananias and Sephira, believers and part of this community…sold some land, just like Barnabas did. But they held back a portion of their earnings…and even more, they lied about it.

So they were both struck down dead. Wait, what?

What happened to everyone getting along?

What happened to everyone was of the same mind? What happened to happily ever after?

These passages live next door to each other.

One minute everyone is sharing, and the next minute people are being struck down for keep a bit to themselves.

And it’s not just here…but all around the neighborhood of this passage…

One minute Peter is in front of the Sanhedrin fearing for his life, and the next minute he’s healing everyone in sight.

One minute Stephen is preaching the Good News of Jesus, and the next minute he is being stoned to death.

And of course, one minute Saul is breathing dangerous threats against these new Christians, and the next minute he is their biggest champion.

This story that we are a part of doesn’t fit in a fairy tale.

 It doesn’t really fit anywhere.

And so when we try to hem it in, to solve it, to finish it, and slap a happy ending on it…we diminish it.

The goal should never be “happily ever after”…even though sometimes I think we’ve convinced ourselves it should be.

I’m a Christian. I should be happy all the time. Everything should be perfect. That’s a tremendous amount of pressure to live under!

But it certainly wasn’t perfect for these first Christians…it was wonder and fear, togetherness and conflict, sharing and hoarding all at the same time.

 The goal wasn’t happiness…it was faithfulness… Faithfully ever after…

And that’s our shared goal as well…

This passage is important not because it immortalizes a time when believers were doing what they were called to do…but because it shows us the way. It shows us how we are to be as a faithful Christian community…

Faithfulness has three aspects that I see in this passage: Faithfulness loves more, shares more, and truths more…

Love more…

The passage says that “the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul…”

How did they do that?

 I firmly believe that one heart and soul doesn’t mean thinking the same about every issue, whether biblical or cultural…

It means that we listen to one another. We make room for one another.

We’re curious around another person’s point of view.

It’s understanding over agreement. Kindness over rightness.

Life together is messy, and we’re going to have different opinions on a whole range of issues.

Having one heart and mind simply means that people take precedence over positions.

 Likemindedness doesn’t mean sameness of mind…but it does mean liking each other’s minds…

 Love more. This is what faithfully ever after looks like…

 Share more

 Luke says it like this: “No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had.”

It’s hard for me to say this…but sometimes I don’t think we’re very good at this one…

It’s something that we try to teach our children from such an early age, and yet, when we really ask ourselves the question…how good are we at sharing?

The truth of the matter is that we all would love to share more…but if you’re like us, we’re rarely asked to share. We have a garage full of rakes and tools and sports equipment that I would be thrilled to share. The problem is…so does everyone else on our block.

I wonder if it’s to simply buy whatever we need for ourselves rather than borrowing it from a neighbor.

When did getting take priority over sharing?

Stuff has become the easy fix, the quick hit, the soothing something. If I could just get this, or that…life would be good.

I read an article a few months ago about a woman who gave up shopping for a year…no clothing, no shoes, no accessories for a year.

 She was quick to say that there is a difference between someone who does this out of choice and out of necessity…and it was clearly a choice for her.

 She writes that the unspoken question of endless browsing for stuff…whether online or in stores…is “what do I need?” She found that what she needed was less.

 I found the article both convicting and liberating…And starting January 1, I gave myself the same challenge.

 The thing is…I have enough. No, I have too much. And after all, its just stuff. It gets old. It goes out of style. It doesn’t matter.

And yet we’ve made it matter. And we’ve made getting more and more matter.

Compare this to …”No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own…” and we all could say we have some work to do…

It’s a simple equation: Buy less. Share More. This is what faithfully ever after looks like… And finally, truth more.

Or in other words…don’t be deceptive or misleading about who you are.

Barnabas sells a field and gives over the money.

Annie and Saphie…sell a field…but instead of giving over the money they seem to plot and scheme and hoard. They were on the same page, but it was a deceptive one. They knowingly betrayed the community they were a part of.

And it led to their destruction.

I wonder if they had just been honest…’Hey, it’s been a rough month. And we could really use this extra cash for…I don’t know, a down payment on a new camel.”

But they chose to justify their deception to themselves…wanting to appear perhaps as pious as Barnabas.

When we operate out of a framework of how we think we are perceived or how we want to be perceived…it rarely goes well for us.

Being faithful means owning the entirety of who we are…the good, the bad, the real.

It means saying out loud what is true for us: Perhaps its saying…

-I’ve been sad lately.

-I’m disappointed my kids live so far away.

-I’m not crazy about my job.

-I’m so tired of this weather I’m ready to scream.

-I’d really like to go shopping (just a hypothetical…)

When we’re honest with first ourselves, with God, and our loved ones…it’s incredibly liberating. We can come out from behind the masks of perfection we’ve been holding up.

Being authentic with ourselves and others is one of the most generous things you can do.

God says “I can take the broken pieces of these truths and start piecing you back together.”

This is what faithfully ever looks like..

Love more, share more, truth more…

 Christian community is no fairy tale. It cannot be solved in an 4 minute Disney production.

Its a messy clamoring towards Acts 4… But of all stories, this is the best story.

Because in this story…through the death and resurrection of his son, God ensures an ever after for all of us.

And this one is true!

On this side of heaven…it will not be happily ever after…but that’s not interesting enough for us.

But by loving more, sharing more, and truthing more. We can all live faithfully ever after…

March 30, 2018
Selections from John
Kyle Small

April 8, 2018
John 20:19-31
Rev. Trygve Johnson

April 1, 2018
Luke 24:1-12
Lindsay Small

One of my favorite book series as a child was ‘The Chronicles of Narnia.’

In the second book, Prince Caspian, Lucy awakes from a deep sleep and follows a familiar voice into the forest. There she is reunited with Aslan, the great lion. Aslan tells Lucy, “go back to the others now, and wake them up; and tell them you have seen me again; and that you must all get up at once and follow me.”

Lucy asks Aslan, “Will the others see you too?” “Certainly not at first,” said Aslan. “Later on, it depends.” “But they won’t believe me!” said Lucy.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Aslan.

Lucy goes back to her brothers and sister, determined to wake them up and get them follow a creature they could not see…

Needless to say…it was not an easy task…

 Relying on the word of another is hard! We want to see for ourselves!

After all, we are cynical people by nature, and leaning on merely heresy is difficult.

Especially when its an incredible word…

…credo means “I believe” so ‘incredible’ really means unbelievable.

And that’s what the women and disciples thought about Jesus no longer being in the tomb. They were dumbfounded…amazed…it was incredible…almost unbelievable.

The women had gone to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus.

But when they arrive at the tomb, something amazing has happened…the stone is rolled away, the tomb is empty…and two men appear in dazzling white clothes.

The women are terrified, of course, but then the angels proceed to do the appropriate Sunday school lesson with them, reminding them of all Jesus had told them.

And we get the sense that the women collectively said, “Ohhhh, that’s right, we remember now!” And they run back to the apostles to tell them…

Notice that the women didn’t first share this news with strangers - they didn’t stop at the literal local watering hole…

They told the people who were in the best position to believe their testimony. They had lived with Jesus and heard his words. The women had reason to expect that the disciples, their brothers in faith, would at least try to believe their story.

But alas, I am sorry to report the disciples were not as receptive to this news as we might have hoped. In fact, they are less than supportive.

Verse 11 says, “But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.”

 An Idle tale…nonsense…that’s how our Bibles most commonly translate the disciple’s reaction. But it’s actually a little more colorful than that…

 The moment after the women come into the room and bring this amazing news…the disciples completely forget their disciple manners and resort to the subtle cadences of a frat house.

Anna Carter Florence, one of my favorite preachers, has written about their reaction and the specific word they used to respond to the women…’leiros.’

 She writes, “Our Bibles translate it as ‘idle tale' or ‘nonsense' but the Greek word actually means ‘trash, garbage, or bull.’ It is a locker room word…a wet towel whipping through a chorus of jeers…and until high school boys start accusing each other of being ‘full of idle tales,’ a more faithful translation would probably be, “these things seemed to them to be bleepity-bleep…and they didn’t believe it.”

Leiros does not appear anywhere else in the New Testament – nowhere does this foul word occur…except on Easter morning.

It’s the very first reaction to these first female evangelists…it’s the initial response after the good news is shared for the first time.

When the women announce “Christ is Risen”…the disciples do not jump up and exclaim, “He is Risen Indeed!” Instead the women exclaim that Christ is Risen and the disciples shout back “Leiros! We don’t believe you.”

It was too unbelievable to be believed. As if something has to be believable to be true.

But you get the feeling that in the disciples mind…it did. There was little room for mystery and surprise…and littler room still for the testimony of a group of women.

To them, it was all leiros.

Florence continues, “The logic of leiros is that our testimony will be heard as a lot of nonsense, perhaps even from some who are close to us. The gospel has always been met with ridicule, right from the very first time it was preached. It has always sounded like a lot of leiros. It has always been more than the church can handle, even when it is the very thing the church prays for; not even the disciples, as much as they loved Jesus, could take the good news. Instead, they flung it back in the women’s faces.”

 It was too unbelievable to be believed.

But let’s not be too hard on the disciples – because it’s not hard to guess why they might have resisted the women’s story.

First of all, they had watched Jesus die. Even those who were in hiding had heard accounts…of the trial before Pilate, the walk to the cross, and finally the crucifixion. Jesus was dead.

 They were cowering in a locked room trying to figure out where and when everything had gone so wrong. And we can imagine the guilt and shame they must have been feeling.

Perhaps they were thinking about their last encounter with Jesus. Poor Peter…I wonder if the cock crow was still ringing in his ears.

And so not only was this news unbelievable…but perhaps there was some dread and fear involved as well. Jesus is resurrected? He’s back? Leiros!

 But look what happens in the next verse…Peter…the one who had the biggest reason to hide, ran to the tomb to see for himself.

He didn’t have the same experience as the women – he didn’t see the two men in their dazzling Easter best. Testimony does not come with a rewind button…it doesn’t guarantee that we’ll have the same experience as someone else.

But testimony sets something in motion… the impulse to go and see for ourselves—and Peter does.

He goes…and sees that the women were telling the truth. He sees the empty tomb and the linen cloths on the ground. He sees enough to know that something big has happened. And so Peter makes his way back to the community ”marveling at what had happened.”

Eventually we know he will do more than wonder.

But how would he ever have gone to the tomb by himself…if the women had not risked rejection and testified to the living Christ?

Jorgen Moltmann said, “Without women preachers, we would have no knowledge of the resurrection.”

 The good news of the Easter story is that its for everyone: the preacher, the seeker, and the cynic.

 All of us are called to preach…to share the ways in which we’ve encountered Christ…to testify to the resurrection. No matter the response.

And it takes courage to share our story…the fear rejection is palpable.

Especially when everything around us seems to scream ‘Leiros’ back at us…

The initial reaction might be “nonsense”…but nonsense leads to seeking…and seeking to wonder…and on and on.

All of us are called to seek… to seek after God with our questions…big and small…to go to the tomb ourselves because it seems too unbelievable to be believed…

And then there’s the cynic.

I am grateful for the disciples all too human response.

I’ll be honest…I’m a much better person on my second try.

 My initial reactions, responses, rebuttals…especially to anything I’m skeptical or scared of…are rarely charitable.

The Gospel according to the Veggie Tales refers to this in a song aptly dubbed, “Our God is a God of second chances.”

Amen.

And here they are, captains of the Second Chance Squad: Jesus’ disciples.

I feel a little sorry for them: their initial reactions were recorded…and are still being talked about 2,000 years later!

Yes, the disciples doubted and scoffed, questioned and argued, worried, and downright swore…

But they would get a second chance…and take the testimony from the women out into the world…

The cynics became the preachers…

They were met with cynics of their own…and had plenty of leiros thrown back at them.

We preach…we seek…we scoff…often all at the same time.

It’s good to be reminded, on today of all days, that the power and love of God is not thwarted by shaky belief or indignant outbursts.

 The power of the resurrection is not dependent on the response to it!

 And neither is the power of testimony…

 The women shared what they saw, what they knew to be true… that they believed the unbelievable.

 That Christ is Risen!

 This is the truth no matter what is echoed back… Even if response is Leiros.

Because Leiros so often leads to Laud and Honor…

 Easter is incredible…unbelievable…beyond our understanding…Christ was dead, and now he is alive.

But it’s no idle tale…it’s not nonsense…and it’s certainly not leiros.

—-

And so Lucy goes back to her sleeping siblings and attempts to wake them up. “Wake up…its Aslan…we must follow him!” Her testimony is met with groans and reluctance. But eventually they get up.

They stumble behind her in the dark, unable to see the great lion that Lucy so clearly sees. But slowly, they begin to see a faint shadow. The shadow grows darker and darker until finally the great lion turns and faces them.

Lucy’s oldest brother, Peter says, “Oh Aslan, I’m so glad. And I’m so sorry. I’ve been leading them wrong ever since we started.”

Aslan responds, “My dear son.” And turning to all of them he says, “The moon is setting. Look behind you…there is the dawn beginning.”

Today, the dawn has begun for you, for me, and for the whole world.

 And so may we testify boldly to the Risen Christ...and clamber over all the leiros in our life and seek him with wonder.

 Christ is Risen!

March 25, 2018
John 19:14-22
Wes Granberg-Michaelson

Seven years ago I made my way to the Potter’s House in Washington D.C. to see Gordon Cosby, the founder of Church of the Saviour and my spiritual mentor.  Beginning shortly after World War II, this pioneering church community combined a commitment to the disciplined “inward journey” of spiritual formation and the “outward journey” of creative engagement in the missional needs of the community.  The high commitment expected of its members and costly engagement in the world has been an inspiring model for congregational renewal over many decades.

This church community shaped my faith and gave direction to my life in my 2o’s, and its lessons have stayed with me for more than four decades.  Gordon Cosby was the church’s founder and long-term pastor.  He married Karin and me and served as the deepest spiritual influence on my life.  When I came to see him, his health was failing but his mind was sharp, and his spirit was vital.  And he was worried.

“I hear all these people talking about Jesus—preachers on television, and in the media, with large congregations,” Gordon said, “and I keep wondering, which Jesus are they talking about? It just isn’t the Jesus I read about in the Bible.  It’s not the Jesus I’ve been trying to follow.  Which Jesus is this?”

I’ve been thinking about that conversation during this Lent, which now ushers in Holy Week today, on Palm Sunday.  Which Jesus?

Isn’t that the question which the thousands gathered in Jerusalem for Passover, and the small circle of disciples and friends, were asking on that first Palm Sunday, and in the fateful week that followed?  Who is this Jesus?  And is it the Jesus we want to follow?  The one we thought we were following? Or the one we now end up denying and rejecting?  Which Jesus?

Historians now tell us that there were two processions entering Jerusalem that day, as Passover was beginning.  One is in the Bible, recorded in all four Gospels.  Jesus enters the city not on a horse or stallion, but on a humble donkey.  When he asks his disciples to go find it, two Gospel writers refer to a passage from Zechariah:

“Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey…”

Those there, and reading this account later, knew their Hebrew scriptures, and would remember that this passage continues:

“He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim, and the war horse from Jerusalem, and the battle bow will be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations.”  (Zechariah 9: 9-10)

This procession of Jesus, on a humble donkey, with cloaks and palms spread before his way, and people proclaiming, “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord,” was in stark contrast to the other procession entering Jerusalem that day.

On the west side of Jerusalem, opposite Jesus, Pilate was entering Jerusalem, leading Roman soldiers clad in armor, with steel swords flashing in the sunlight, and drummers announcing their arrival.  It was a procession of mighty military force, intended to intimidate Jews gathering for the Passover.  Roman power reigned, and any dissent or rebellion would not be tolerated.  About 37 years earlier, the Romans had ruthlessly crushed an attempted rebellion.  2,000 of those suspected of being a part were crucified.

In the tense, dramatic days which followed, leading to the confrontation described in the Gospel reading from John, Jesus makes clear who he is, and what it means to come “in the name of the Lord.”  He attacks the corruption in the temple, disrupting its operation by overturning the tables and driving out the animals of those religious leaders controlling a sacrificial system that made them rich, while oppressing the poor—particularly poor women.  In other words, this Jesus wouldn’t tolerate unjust economic power in the temple, the heart of Jewish life, with its thievery and corruption.

Beyond that, the exclusivism of the temple’s rules and practices brought forth the condemnation of Jesus.  It’s not just that Jesus characterized those in control as running a “den of thieves,” but he declared that the temple was to be a holy “place of prayer for all the nations,” and not just for those in a protected cultural and religious enclave.

But there was far more.  The ruling religious authorities, including the family of the High Priest, and the Sadducees, were the religious aristocracy of that day, controlling the temple and holding their grip political and religious power.  And they compromised and even betrayed the heart of the Jewish tradition by supporting the oppressive rule of Rome.  Their complicity with Roman power was the trade-off that kept them in power.  And Jesus was steadfast in his rejection of all corruption of faith for the protection of oppressive injustice, through an unholy alliance between religious authority and Roman power.

Jesus not only attacked those making money unjustly in the temple, but he predicted the destruction of the temple itself.  He wanted to make clear that God’s holiness was not wedded to religious practices in the temple which had become self-righteous and poisoned by the protection of power and privilege.

Finally, by the end of this week, right before the account of his arrest in Matthew, we read how Jesus declares that the framework for God’s judgment will be set by those who treat the poor, the stranger, the foreigner, the naked, and the one in prison as though they were Jesus himself, and those who do not.

It’s no wonder that the chief priest Caiaphas and the religious authorities plotted to kill Jesus, arranged his arrest, and initially put him on trial.  But they needed to have Pilate on their side.   We read the crucial exchange in John’s Gospel.  “Shall I crucify your King?” Pilate asks.  And the response—which John notes is from the chief priests—is telling.  “We have no king but Caesar (the emperor).”

Which Jesus?  For those who shouted, “Crucify him,” it was not the one who challenges corruption, religious hypocrisy, and compromised faith wedded to political power.  Not the one who claims that “coming in the name of the Lord” means seeking a reign of justice and righteousness that overturns all their tables and calls them to honor what is truly holy.  Not the one who breaks down self-righteous boundaries of comfortable exclusivism.  They would rather usher that Jesus away to Golgotha.

The procession of Pilate, offering the security and might of oppressive power, claimed their allegiance.   Caesar was their king, rather than the One who processed on a donkey, as a humble servant-king, but in the name of the Lord.

And what would our response be?  Which Jesus would we have followed?  Which Jesus do we follow today? 

On Ash Wednesday I was in the New York apartment of Bishop Michael Curry, Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church.   Fifteen of us had gathered there—most of us were former heads of denominations and organizations.  Now we are called “elders.”  And we had gathered to pray and ask this same question.  “Which Jesus?”  What should it mean, during this time of Lent, in this time and place, to declare that “Jesus is Lord?”  To reverse the cry of those who in John’s account say, “We have no King but Caesar,” and instead declare, “Jesus is Lord!”

We decided to put into words a statement, or what you might call a confession, expressing our response.  And in the weeks since Ash Wednesday, we’ve worked on that, wanting to finish it by Palm Sunday.  We did.

As a group, we crossed denominational lines, from the RCA and CRC to Disciples of Christ, Episcopal, and historic Black denominations, as well as evangelicals like Ron Sider, Tony Compolo, and Jim Wallis, and authors like Richard Rohr.  Nearly all of us are receiving social security.

But we all feel that something grave and dangerous is happening in our country today.  It all goes far beyond normal partisan politics.  What we said is that “the soul of the nation and the integrity of faith is now at stake.”

We hope that the words we framed might contain an expression of gospel truth for our time and help those in congregations to reflect on what it means today to say, “Jesus is Lord.”

This begins by being clear about what we believe.  We affirm again truths that are central to our faith.  But then we take the next step and declare what we must reject because of these truths.  If you’ve ever studied the Confessions of the Reformed Church in America, you’ll know that two of them generally follow that formula—and especially the Canons of Dort and the Belhar Confession.  We declare our belief, and then boldly identify what we reject.  That’s what we did.  Here are some examples:

We believe each human being is made in God’s image and likeness.  Therefore, we reject the resurgence of white nationalism and racism in our nation on many fronts…

We believe we are one body.  In Christ there is to be no oppression based on race, gender, identity, or class.  Therefore, we reject misogmy, the mistreatment, violent abuse, sexual harassment, and assault of women being further revealed in our culture…

We believe how we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the stranger, the sick, the prisoner is how we treat Christ himself.  Therefore, we reject the language and policies of political leaders who would debase and abandon the most vulnerable children of God…(including) immigrants and refugees.

We believe the truth is morally central to our personal and public lives.  Therefore, we reject the practice and pattern of lying that is invading our political and civil life.

We believe Christ’s way of leadership is servanthood, not domination.  We support democracy, not because we believe in human perfection, but because we do not.  Therefore, we reject any moves toward autocratic political leadership and authoritarian rule.

We believe Jesus when he tells us to go into all nations making disciples….Therefore, we reject “America first” as a theological heresy for followers of Christ….

Yes, those are strong words, and that’s just a sampling. But it’s certainly enough to make many of us here feel uncomfortable, including me.  But I think that’s part of the journey for all of us on Palm Sunday, entering Holy Week.  Which Jesus is it that we are following?  What does it mean, for us today, to say that “Jesus is Lord?”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the promising young German theologian who was executed in one of Hitler’s prisons shortly before the end of World War II, said this:

“Christianity has adjusted itself much too easily to the worship of power.  It should give much more offense, more shock to the world, than it is doing.”

Certainly, this was the conviction of Jesus as he rode that donkey into Jerusalem, while Pilate’s mighty, military procession was entering from the opposite side of the city.  The religious authorities of his time had adjusted themselves far too easily to the worship of power.  And Jesus gave them offense.  He was coming as a servant-king in the name of the Lord, to declare what truly was holy, and what was not.  And he did so claiming his identity and authority, during the drama of his final days, as God’s own Son.

Today we each begin our journey into Holy Week, celebrated through the world by Christians as the holiest week of the year.   We should join the question asked by the thousands of pilgrims who came to Jerusalem on that Passover, and asked by the religious establishment of the time, and even by Pilate, the ruler representing the power of the Roman Empire:  Which Jesus is this?  How do we respond?  Can we follow the Jesus who went from a humble donkey, to confronting corruption in the temple, and condemning complicity with unrighteous power, to healing those excluded by that culture’s fearful prejudices, to gathering those he loved to wash their feet and promise the sharing of his life, to a lonely garden in agonizing prayer, and then to a mockery of a trial and death on a cross?  That’s the Jesus we’re asked to follow.

We all know the theological truths which reverberate through Holy Week, in Scripture, liturgy, and cherished hymns.  Christ’s death on the cross, in a mysterious and eternal way, conquered the power of sin in our lives, and in the life of the world.  It offers the hope of new life, sealed by the power of the resurrection.

But those truths aren’t abstract. It’s not just a doctrine to be recited.  Rather, it reveals a path of discipleship to be followed.  That’s seen, not only throughout the ministry of Jesus, but especially in what Jesus did and said in these four days between the Hosannas of today and the shouts to crucify him on Friday.

His journey during those days took place in the face of the social, political, and religious realities of his time.  And so does ours.  That’s why Dietrich Bonhoeffer kept asking, “Who is Jesus Christ for us today?”  And that’s why we ask, this week, “Which Jesus?”

Perhaps you can begin to imagine the questions which might come if you begin to ask, this week, “Which Jesus” am I following or perhaps not.  Surely, the disciples did not see what was in store, even from one day, and one hour, to the next.  But let me encourage you to take this pilgrimage during Holy Week.  Please don’t leave here simply expecting to come back to the lilies of next Easter Sunday.  That day will really mean next to nothing, except for bunnies, eggs, and spring celebrations, if you don’t travel through this holiest of weeks.

As you walk though this week, trying to understand and follow the journey that Jesus took, remember that Jesus is also walking with you.  He has faced all the most difficult questions, challenges, and betrayals that you might encounter, and far more. And he has made it through, showing us the Way, the truth, and the life.

A theologian, Marcus Borg, who helped explain the two processions on Palm Sunday, also described in a sentence what Jesus was like, in these words:

“Jesus was a person radically centered in God, empowered by that relationship, and filled with God’s passion for the world—a passion that led to his execution and vindication.”

Those words bring me back to Gordon Cosby and Church of the Saviour.  To have our lives radically centered in God and empowered by that relationship—an inward spiritual journey of courage and integrity.  And then to be filled from this with God’s passion for the world—an outward journey infused by God’s unquenchable love.  If we rely on those two qualities during this week, we all we be able to answer, for our own journeys, the question asked by Gordon, and echoing through the centuries from that first Palm Sunday and Holy Week,  to you here today: “Which Jesus?”

March 18, 2018
John 19:1-16
Lindsay Small

This morning we’re taking a bit of a detour…

On our journey through Lent from the Crowds to the Cross…we’re pulling off the freeway for a Sunday. To get off the path and take a minute to refuel…to make sure our mindset matches our footsteps.

The detour takes us into one of the most difficult stories of scripture. It comes from Matthew 22:1-14…

22 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his  son.
3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them.
7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was   filled with guests.
11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

So here’s the real reason we’re detouring…

Because this passage is the best deal in town…and I simply cannot pass up a bargain…

Yes, that’s right…its buy one get one free at Fellowship Church today. Buy one incredibly difficult and convicting parable…and get one more free of  charge.

They’re both included for only one low  price…

Never mind those other Lenten passages about raising people or washing feet… none of them pack the 1-2 punch this one does. After all, we’re smart people… we can handle two parables in one…even if it does have more death and destruction than most of us are used to on a Sunday  morning…

No, bring on the hard passage.

And this is all because…I love a bargain…and I know you do too…I’ve seen you around those Russ’ coupons…

So when I saw a BOGO just off the exit today…I knew it had to be preached. But there were times when I wanted my money back.

We’ve been on a journey from the Crowds to the Cross since Lent began…but as I mentioned…this passage stops the journey for a moment. Or perhaps its better to say that it comes up alongside the  journey…

Because we can place them next to each other. On our Lenten Journey, Jesus is about to be sentenced to death. Jesus, standing before Pilate and the crowds,   is stepping readily into his own fate.

And right next to it, we place this  parable…

Defying all flannel gram fuzziness, Jesus speaks directly to the Pharisees but in his classic indirect way. After all, that’s what parables are—stories with meaning. And at times, that meaning is up for grabs…or at least we want it to  be.

So the typical sermon on passages like this begin with cute antidotes or perhaps a story from your cousins wedding…a few remarks about how tricky this passage is…and after a few homiletical cartwheels that place us well out of the line of fire…we arrive at the end of the sermon…unscathed and unmoved.

But the truth is none of us can excuse ourselves from this passage. As soon as we’ve securely located ourselves with either the uninvited or the invited…Jesus’ words find us.

-Those who are invited took the invitation for granted…never imagining that THOSE people would EVER be invited.
 

-And those who were eventually invited (or at least the one that we hear about ) wanted the invitation on his terms, and failed to fully appreciate what sitting at the table meant.

The totality of this parable means that whatever side of the guest list we find ourselves on…Jesus has a word for us. And as much as we would like to focus on Jesus words for the ‘other’…they land solely at our  feet.

Those who were initially invited should have come…the King had gone to great trouble to invite them. The food was prepared, the table was set. And to not attend was an incredible affront to the King…

And although he is initially very patient…giving them three separate opportunities to come. When his slaves are killed…all bets are off. Mayhem ensues…cities are burned. (And yet its interesting that the food stays hot somehow…)

And so the ‘everyone else’ is invited…the good and the  bad.

The unlikely walk past the likely into the banquet hall…and you get the feeling that both groups are shocked.

Jesus once again turns the entitlement of invitation on its head. Because he knew that it is in our nature to be way too concerned about the WHO and WHO ELSE of the invitation…Who’s in and who’s out?

I received an Evite a few weeks ago…and after quickly perusing the details of the party I tapped on the guest list to see who else was coming. I don’t think I would have noted my action except that the host had blocked the guest list. I was disappointed. I wanted to know who else was invited.

We so easily place the emPHAsis on the invitation and not what the invitation means…

And so the invited become the uninvited and vice versa…and thus commences the bonus parable…involving a newly invited guest…he’s at the banquet even though he is not wearing the right clothes…

And in a move that seems a little extreme to say the least, he is thrown out into the darkness…where the weeping and gnashing of teeth happen.

He had the opportunity to wear the right clothes, or so say bible scholars who’d know better than me…he simply choses not to.

He failed to understand that being invited brings with it responsibility…even if it was only making sure you had the right attire. He did not consider the host and how it would appear to him if he did not put forth the effort to show   respect.

There is remarkable humanness in each parable…and I find myself standing in both of them.

We know the invitation is before us…standing on this side of history we know that all are invited, not just a select few. But there are many times that my flurry of activity stops me from entering into God’s  presence.

But even once I’m aware of God’s presence…I want those moments to be on my terms, not God’s.

I want a convenient faith…one that I can squeeze into my ‘busy’ day. I want to set the terms…the boundaries…the limits.

—-

Because here’s the truth…I like a bargain…even when it comes to my faith.  I want a good deal: to pay the lowest for the greatest  gain.
But cutting corners on discipleship has  consequences.

The Kingdom is costly. And we simply cannot have it on our own  terms…

In a beautiful essay on this passage, Karoline Lewis says, “It is not enough anymore to call yourself a follower of Christ and then act as if you were sound asleep during the Sermon on the Mount.”

Jesus’ vision of the journey requires more than just ‘I guess I’ll come…’
 
There is a cost…something required of us. And this is where it gets tricky. Because often in our attempt to make faith more palatable and attractive…we emphasize convenience over accountability.

The essay I read was a direct word to us pastors, ‘We are preachers afraid -- afraid of offense. Afraid to ruffle feathers. Afraid that people will leave, especially when the pews are emptier than they ever have been. Afraid to lose donors.
Afraid to speak out of our own theological convictions. Afraid to take risks. Afraid of the very thing that got the ill-dressed guest thrown out in the first place.”

And so the disturbing trend is to ask less and less of our congregations…to offer you a discounted faith. With very little time and effort  needed.

As a pastor, my first instinct with invitation is often pointing out how easy it will be…the one hour Bible study, the brief discussion, the short worship service…

We are so delighted that people would even show up for worship that we take enormous steps not to offend, or disturb, or  rattle.

Buy one act of semi-obedience, get salvation free.

We have cheapened what is priceless. Matthew 22 is a costly parable.

And so perhaps it is time to name what is true in its  meaning:

That faith will cost us our very lives.

And so what happens,…when we consider this passage in light of the passage that was assigned for today?

A passage that begins…
19 Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. 2 The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe 3 and
 
went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face.
12    From then on, Pilate tried to set Jesus free, but the Jewish leaders kept shouting, “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar. Anyone who claims to be a king opposes Caesar.”
13    When Pilate heard this, he brought Jesus out and sat down on the judge’s seat at a place known as the Stone Pavement (which in Aramaic is Gabbatha). 14 It was the day of Preparation of the Passover; it was about noon.
“Here is your king,” Pilate said to the Jews.
15    But they shouted, “Take him away! Take him away! Crucify him!” “Shall I crucify your king?” Pilate asked.
“We have no king but Caesar,” the chief priests answered.
16    Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.

Pilate settles for what is easy, the immediacy of the pressure around him…he is cheap and shallow.

But Jesus sets his eyes on the costly path before him.

He doesn’t try to cut corners. He doesn’t work out a deal or sidestep Pilate. He is fully in control of his destiny.
The cross is not defeat for him…his entire ministry has been leading up to this moment. The cross is his hour of grace and glorification…

This is the costly love of Christ.

Friends, both passages are a call away from the cheap grace of immediacy, and a call to the costly grace of the  Kingdom.

The bargain is alluring. The deal is often too good to pass up. But cheap faith is never worth it.
So we must be willing to walk with Christ all the way to the cross… And into the costly grace of the  Kingdom…

Come. Feast on the lavish, abundant, and priceless love of God.

March 11, 2018
John 18:28-40
Rev. Jill Ver Steeg

March 4, 2018
John 18:12-27
Nate Schipper

February 25, 2018
John 13:1-17
Lindsay Small

I asked a small group I was leading recently about their phobias…what things were they afraid of?

Spiders hit the top of the list…and for good reason in my opinion. Heights…cramped spaces…lots of the favorites, or really, not-so-favorites…

I’ve always seen myself as a pretty reasonable person…no crazy phobias…or so I thought…and then, last week: I met one of my greatest fears: the Car Wash.

On the one hand, getting your car washed has to be one of the most satisfying things you can do. It’s an almost instant before and after. And it’s kind of a beautiful equalizer…no matter if you drive a Mercedes or a Ford Falcon… everyone’s car looks better after a car wash.

You just have to get through it first…

It started out fine…you know, the part where you pay went okay. But then…oh Lord have mercy…it came time to align my wheels in that 3-inch groove. Being the cool mom that I am, I drive a minivan the size of New Hampshire…so it feels like you’re trying to balance a land mass on a tightrope. And it always feels like the line behind me is longer than the Chick-fil-a drive-thru…

…this past week it didn’t go so well. I didn’t get alignment right…there were some noises underneath the car…there were some colorful metaphors muttered…the dude had to come out of his booth to direct me…by the time I reached the octopus washer thing I was sweating…and by then I had moved on to my fear of suds creeping in the windows…

…Carwashaphobia. It’s a real thing.

I was thinking about my weird phobia this week as I considered today’s passage.

Because unlike carwashaphobia, podophobia IS a real thing. The fear of feet.

I know it’s real because it’s on the internet, and everything on the internet is true…I know it’s real because I know that some of us are shifting in our seats because we’re talking about feet outside of sandal season. I know it’s real because Americans spent over 5 billion dollars a year on pedicures…or as my dad calls them, “Foot facials…”

We have strong feelings about feet.

I believe that for as many people who read this passage and immediately want to re-enact it…there are just as many who would run for the hills as soon as they are invited to come forward.

Stay away from my feet.

So its fine to talk about this…as long as it doesn’t end with us taking off my socks. Don’t worry…it doesn’t.

But even in just talking about it…this is an unsettling text.

It smashes our comfort zones, our boundaries, and even our most preferred vision of Jesus.

We can get on board when it comes to having a servant heart…serving one another…we get the washing part.

But there are a few other elements of this text that are for me, a bit like facing the car wash…

—

We continue in our walk through the book of John from the crowds to the cross. Last week we looked at Jesus’ final recorded miracle: the raising of Lazarus.

And we talked about the crowd that surrounded Mary and Martha and Jesus. And how many in the crowd came to believe…but there were others who turned Jesus in after this miracle.

So chapter 13 begins with, "Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father.”

There is a noticeable turn here.

Jesus knows what is going to happen. He is now gathered with a smaller crowd…his disciples. And he knows that one person in the room is about to betray him.

This act of abundant love is bookended by betrayal…the basin set in the shadow of duplicity and deception.

 It is in so many ways a foreshadowing of the crucifixion…Jesus, taking the posture of a slave, pouring himself out. So that we would be made clean.

Perhaps you’ve heard the Sunday school lessons about foot-washing, they usually follow the ones about the intellect of sheep…

Given the importance of washing and sheer level of filth on the streets…foot washing was an important task.

It was customary for guests to wash their own feet. The host would provide a basin and towel.

But in wealthier homes, foot-washing was done by a female slave. It was thought to be the lowliest job there was.

And so it must have come as an incredible shock when in verse 2, John says,

“Jesus got up “during supper”…he took off his outer robe, tied a towel around himself, and began washing the disciples’ feet.”

We can imagine that the disciples were a little befuddled…right there, in the middle of the pita course…Jesus stands up and starts washing their feet.

Jesus…the one they believe to be the Messiah…God’s son…was doing the job relegated to a female slave…the lowest of the low.

By this point the disciples must have been a little more accustomed to Jesus and his unexpected right turns…but this…this was over to top for even Jesus.

Raise a guy from death to life? Okay, we’re with you. Wash our feet? NO THANK YOU.

Peter, true to form, does not hide his horror. Frankly stating, “You will NEVER wash my feet.”

Peter’s fear is palpable in this text…he did not want any part of this. Any appearance of Jesus serving him was absolutely terrifying to him.

A case of podophobia? Perhaps…but I think it was a little deeper than that…for both him, and perhaps for us as well.

Up until this point, the sign and actions of Jesus had been directed at other people…the sick, the needy…those who ‘really needed him.’ But now, Jesus is kneeling down on the ground and performing the task of a slave…to him.

I wonder if for Peter…it was just too much. As long as Jesus service was directed at others, it was fine. But in this humbling act…he knew that Jesus was looking right at him.

We have this terrible habit of bringing ourselves with us wherever we go. And too many of us carry with us an unredeemed version of ourselves…

Kyle likes to say, “Every morning I wake up, and there I am with myself. I woke up this morning…and guess who was there…”

And so we bring with us our sin, our shame, our guilt, our past failures, and our future fears.

We carry all these things around with us…and they find their way into our psyches and these lies that we tell ourselves become our truths. “I’m not good enough.” “I’m not beautiful enough” “I’m not enough.”

And our fear is that looking at Jesus face to face will only highlight our inadequacies…much less having him wash our feet…

—-

And so we’re better off washing them ourselves, thank you very much.

After all, that’s what is normally done. If I don’t have to share my shame, then I don’t really have to deal with it.

Peter felt like his whole person was on display in front of Jesus…and he didn’t like it. “You will never wash my feet.”

Many of us are most uncomfortable with this story when we imagine ourselves in the disciples’ seat.

And so we jump to the other spot…to the other side of the basin…because in our minds it’s easier when WE’RE doing the washing…

Serving others? Washing others? I can get on board with that. That is actually what Jesus instructs us to do…its right there! “You ought to wash one another’s feet.”

Why is it easier for us to imagine serving rather than being served?

 I think for some of us…it’s easier because it’s safer. It’s a safer place to hide… serve others—give to others—-and you don’t need to rely on anyone else.

And we’ve told ourselves that this is the most God-like posture…we are to be the one doing the service…the washing…the saving…

We forget that just one chapter before this Jesus was at another table.

And in the middle of dinner, Mary took a pound of costly perfume and poured it over Jesus feet…

Jesus was not above washing his disciples’ feet, nor was he below allowing his feet to be washed.

 Because before we can be the one washing…we have to be washed.

That is what Jesus modeled to his disciples…he was on both sides of the basin.

Jesus didn’t play a single role of servant…he allowed others to serve him: with meals, and beds, donkeys…he relied on the kindness of others so that he could go about his life’s work.

The problem is…in our culture…there is such a high value placed on autonomy and self-sufficiency. And you can have these values and serve others…but its pretty hard to maintain your self-reliance when you have to rely on someone else.

So the value of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps has practically become gospel in American culture…

…but this value stands in conflict with Christ’s act of mutuality and service.

 And besides, they didn’t have boots. They had sandals…and feet got dirty. And they needed to be washed.

Yes, there is something about this passage that makes us uncomfortable, but maybe it’s not the feet.

It’s that our preferred view of Jesus is a mighty savior who stays ‘right there’… looking fierce, and majestic, and defending us against all manner of bad things.

And so when we realize that he has stooped down to wash our feet, to carry our sin, to die for us…it is too much to handle.

It was too much for the crowd…it was too much for Judas… But closer still…it was too much for Peter.

But he stays in the chair…(and after trying to give Jesus a bit more direction…) he stops talking and allows Jesus to wash his feet.

Jesus says to Peter, you don’t understand now…but you will.

You don’t understand that this act of service is actually an act of salvation.

“Unless I wash you, you have no share of me.”

 And so we all must sit in the chair. And give our whole selves over to Christ… even our feet.

Jesus says I see you. I love you. And I’m about to die for you.

But first, I’m going to wash your feet. And then I want you to wash the feet of others.

Friends, life is messy. And there is much to fear.

Darkness and betrayal bookend our journey. And it is easy to find ourselves dirty and dusty.

And so we must follow Christ together, all the way to the cross…serving one another and allowing ourselves to be served.

Placing ourselves on both sides of the basin…