(Click on the above title to hear the sermon)
In Warner Sallman’s painting, “Christ at the door,” Jesus is depicted as standing at a door with no doorknob, knocking. This painting has captured the imaginations of thousands who have seen it. People are drawn to a Jesus who came from heaven to invite us to be a part of a new way of life in the kingdom of God.
In Mark 1:15 we read where Jesus began his ministry by issuing a call to repentance and faith – to a life of discipleship. This call to discipleship is not simply a message of hell-avoidance. Jesus believes that his preaching is “good news” for people, and that living the life of discipleship will make a difference in peoples’ lives right now. That difference is freedom (Romans 8:2 – “set free from the law of sin and death”; Gal. 5:1 – “For freedom Christ has set us free”).
Obviously, Mark has condensed his story for our benefit. He describes the disciples’ response to Jesus’ call as immediate and life-altering – Peter, Andrew, James, and John all immediately left everything – careers and family – to follow Jesus.
But in what sense did they leave everything to follow Jesus? If we look down at Mark 1:29, we are told that after leaving the synagogue, Jesus and the disciples went to Simon and Andrew’s house, where Jesus cured Simon’s mother-in-law. Obviously they did not become complete ascetics and completely divorce themselves from their families and previous lives. So in what sense did they leave everything to follow Jesus?
I think we get a glimpse of an answer in the epistolary reading from 1 Corinthians 7:29-31. These verses are basically an apostolic aside inserted into a discussion regarding sex and marriage, but they have serious implications regarding Christian ethics and the Christian way of life.
Paul begins by saying that “time has grown short,” which is to provide the motivation for the discussion which is going to follow. There is no universal agreement about what Paul means by saying time has grown short. However, I believe that Paul is referring to the end of the ages that was inaugurated by the resurrection of Christ. This event signified that a new world order had begun, and that Christians now live as a part of the kingdom of God, while at the same time waiting for a greater manifestation of the kingdom when Jesus returned. In this sense, it is an eschatological, or end-time, hope that colors how one lives, even if Jesus’ return is not as immanent as was once thought.
So, in view of the time in which we now live, let those who are married live as if they were not; let those who are joyful live as if they are not; let those who mourn live as if they are not; let those who buy and sell possessions live as if they are not; and let those who deal with the world live as if they had no dealings with the world, because the present form of this world is passing away. (JJ’s paraphrase)
I think the last phrase of the passage – “For the present form of this world is passing away” – is the key to understanding the passage. It is not only our conviction of faith, but our own observations and experiences about this life that sees the truth in Paul’s claim about the impermanence of this world. The forms, structures, institutions, forces, powers, etc. of this world were not built to last. Our own experience of the end of 2008 reminds us of the impermanence and fragility of the forms of this world. To live as a Christian, in view of our eschatological hope for Christ’s return and a fuller experience of the kingdom of God, means we recognize that this world is temporal, temporary, and is fading away as we speak. Therefore, discipleship means that we experience a radical reorientation of our perspective.
As Christians, we should no longer regard what happens in this world and in this life as what is ultimately important, because it is going to pass away. It is not that we don’t engage this world – we marry, we experience joy and sorrow, we buy and sell possessions, we accumulate wealth – but we do it recognizing that these things are not of ultimate importance. Rather, they are less important than our relationship with God in Christ.
However, Paul is not just calling for a change in our perspective. He is calling for a change in our lifestyle because of our changed perspective. It is not enough to simply say that the forms of this world are not of ultimate value and importance and to keep living as if they are. Discipleship means that we adjust our lifestyle to reflect this confession of faith. All of the lectionary passages from this week reflect this same focus. Paul calls this lifestyle a change in our relationship with the forms of this world. Mark 1 describes this radical lifestyle adjustment as “leaving nets” and leaving career and father. Jonah 3 says that Ninevah made this lifestyle adjustment by declaring a city-wide fast and a city-wide dress code of sackcloth (adjustments that were so wide-spread that they were to include the livestock as well).
Changing our relationship with the forms of this world will look different for everyone – we all have the responsibility for making the life of discipleship concrete in our lives. For example: many Christians, despite the conviction to follow Jesus alone, still live as if the accumulation of wealth is what is ultimately important. How can we find ways to view money, wealth, and possessions, as tools in our hands to carry out our service to God and not as ends in themselves? How can we participate in the structures of this world, for example, the stock market, or the housing market, without placing our ultimate trust for our well being in them? How can we live in America without succumbing to the rampant wave of civic religion that has been sweeping across the country, believing that America holds the solution to the world’s problems? How can we work in our careers and yet not place our personal identity in what we do for a living? Or does our anxiety and stress about our jobs suggest that we have been looking to them as a source of satisfaction that can only leave us wanting something deeper and more fulfilling?
Jesus lived and died so that we might be free. Why then do so many of us still seem to be in slavery? Why do we still seem bogged down with the weight and care of this world? Why do so many of us still live as if the things of this world have ultimate meaning?
I often use words like obedience, holiness, and discipleship to describe the Christian life. These words can sometimes invoke negative images in our heads because they remind many of us of the church that we came from – a church that sought to earn salvation through a legalistic approach to faith and that used these words to beat us up and only increased our feelings of guilt and unworthiness. Therefore, after much theological discussion, it is our conviction as a church that salvation comes by God’s grace and mercy and that there is nothing that we can do to merit God’s favor or earn our salvation, a position that I whole-heartedly agree with and fully support and believe in.
So many might wonder why I still use these words. I use them because it is also my conviction that the freedom that Christ offers comes to us in a very counter-intuitive way. We experience God’s freedom through our practice of repentance, faith, and discipleship. Isn’t that what Jesus calls us to in Mark 1? “Repent, believe in the good news, and come follow me.” Isn’t that the message of Paul in 1 Corinthians 7? “…let those who deal with the world live as if they had no dealings with the world …”, as if God is the source of ultimate value and the source of our life and well-being.
Jesus is there, standing at the door knocking. And it is only through a full-bodied embrace of the life of discipleship to which we are called that we can find the true freedom that he offers, and live out the good news of the gospel that he came to proclaim.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Listening For God's Call - 1 Samuel 3:1-10
(Click on the above title to listen to the sermon)
We live in a time where everyone, it seems, claims to speak for or have special insight into God – secular leaders, religious leaders, ordinary people, even Oprah. It is always difficult for a church to discern God’s will, but when everyone claims to have it, who do we listen to? Put differently: when are the words of disciples, especially leaders, the words of God? When do we hear God and think it’s someone else? When do we think someone is speaking for God when they are not?
I believe our lectionary passage from 1 Samuel 3 touches on these questions.
The collected book of Samuel (1 & 2) begins at the end of the period of the judges in Israel. As it opens, Eli is the current reigning judge over the tribes of Israel. Though we don’t know it at the beginning of Samuel, Eli is destined to be the last judge in Israel. In fact, though they certainly didn’t know it at the time, Israel was poised for a period of great transition. They were getting ready to transition from a tribal state to a nation; from rule by judges to rule by kings; and from Eli to Samuel. One of the first things that God told Samuel was that he was going to do something new, something that would make the ears of those who heard about it tingle (vs. 11).
I am sure that on a macro, geo-political level, there were many reasons for Israel to make these transitions. However, there are some clues in 1 Samuel 3 that give us at least one perspective for the transition. The chapter opens by telling us that a time had arisen when hearing the Word of the Lord and visions were rare. This is probably due in no small part to the situation at the end of the book of Judges, where we are told that everyone did right in their own sight (the evil ways of Eli’s sons, who were also priests, probably didn’t help things either, and were the specific reason for Eli’s downfall). Additionally, we are told in chapter 3 that Eli was losing his vision. Now while this is a physical condition, its placement in the text dramatically symbolizes the fact that the word of the Lord and visions were rare. Furthermore, the story takes place at night, a dramatic effect that only enhances our understanding of the bleak spiritual landscape in Israel.
As chapter 3 begins, we are told that Samuel, who at this time appears to be a young boy serving as a mere functionary in the temple at Shiloh, received a call from a nameless, faceless voice while he was sleeping. Three times he heard this voice and three times he believed it was the voice of Eli, calling from another room. We, the readers, know that it is God calling Samuel, but Samuel doesn’t know it. (The fact that Samuel doesn’t recognize the call of God is no bad reflection on him, in fact the text even tells us that he had not yet received God’s call and did not yet know the Lord (vs. 7). I suppose if I had been Samuel hearing this voice in the middle of the night, I might be tempted to seek out psychiatric care.) It was only after the 3rd time that he heard this voice that Eli, perhaps due to his diminishing ability to discern God’s voice, recognized the possibility that it was God calling. So, on the fourth visit by the voice of God, Samuel responds and begins his prophetic career.
On its face, the story marks the beginning of Samuel’s call to be a prophet, and as such there is little surprising to it – Samuel joins a long list of people in scripture who are also called to be God’s witnesses and prophets. What is surprising to me in the story, however, is that God called Samuel. I mean, if I were God and needed to get my message out and disseminated to the people, I would probably operate through the hierarchical structures that I had already established. I would probably start talking to Eli again, or maybe go through one of his sons who were priests and leaders of the people themselves (I know they were reprobates, but so were a number of people that God called to work with). If I didn’t like either of those options, I might even go to another recognized leader among the people, someone with some standing and credibility. I certainly would not choose a mere boy serving as a functionary in the temple. It is to Eli’s credit that he not only recognized that God might be calling Samuel, but accepted that God was calling Samuel and not him. Eli seems to have been able to accept the fact that God was acting in an unexpected way, calling an unexpected person, to do something new in Israel.
It is at this point that Samuel 3 intersects with the questions that I posed a few paragraphs ago. Sometimes we grow comfortable in the temple - grow comfortable with our worship services, comfortable with our lives, comfortable with our ministries. But maybe it is precisely because of our comfort in the temple, so to speak, that we forget that God does not always do what we expect; that the voice of the Lord can be found in unexpected people from unexpected places. Isn’t this the challenge of our gospel reading from John 1? When Philip told Nathaniel that the Messiah had come in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, what was Nathaniel’s response? “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”
I do not believe that the challenge of the church is to follow God. I think that if we collectively figured out what God wanted us to do and where God wanted us to go then we would show up in our millions. I believe the challenge of the church is to remember that God does not come to us in expected ways from expected people and expected places. God’s will is not always disseminated to us through the expected channels. Therefore, we must find ways to intentionally look for where God is speaking, acting, and calling. It will require wiser heads than mine to figure out the process for how to engage this process. But I believe that remembering to look and listen is a good first step.
We live in a time where everyone, it seems, claims to speak for or have special insight into God – secular leaders, religious leaders, ordinary people, even Oprah. It is always difficult for a church to discern God’s will, but when everyone claims to have it, who do we listen to? Put differently: when are the words of disciples, especially leaders, the words of God? When do we hear God and think it’s someone else? When do we think someone is speaking for God when they are not?
I believe our lectionary passage from 1 Samuel 3 touches on these questions.
The collected book of Samuel (1 & 2) begins at the end of the period of the judges in Israel. As it opens, Eli is the current reigning judge over the tribes of Israel. Though we don’t know it at the beginning of Samuel, Eli is destined to be the last judge in Israel. In fact, though they certainly didn’t know it at the time, Israel was poised for a period of great transition. They were getting ready to transition from a tribal state to a nation; from rule by judges to rule by kings; and from Eli to Samuel. One of the first things that God told Samuel was that he was going to do something new, something that would make the ears of those who heard about it tingle (vs. 11).
I am sure that on a macro, geo-political level, there were many reasons for Israel to make these transitions. However, there are some clues in 1 Samuel 3 that give us at least one perspective for the transition. The chapter opens by telling us that a time had arisen when hearing the Word of the Lord and visions were rare. This is probably due in no small part to the situation at the end of the book of Judges, where we are told that everyone did right in their own sight (the evil ways of Eli’s sons, who were also priests, probably didn’t help things either, and were the specific reason for Eli’s downfall). Additionally, we are told in chapter 3 that Eli was losing his vision. Now while this is a physical condition, its placement in the text dramatically symbolizes the fact that the word of the Lord and visions were rare. Furthermore, the story takes place at night, a dramatic effect that only enhances our understanding of the bleak spiritual landscape in Israel.
As chapter 3 begins, we are told that Samuel, who at this time appears to be a young boy serving as a mere functionary in the temple at Shiloh, received a call from a nameless, faceless voice while he was sleeping. Three times he heard this voice and three times he believed it was the voice of Eli, calling from another room. We, the readers, know that it is God calling Samuel, but Samuel doesn’t know it. (The fact that Samuel doesn’t recognize the call of God is no bad reflection on him, in fact the text even tells us that he had not yet received God’s call and did not yet know the Lord (vs. 7). I suppose if I had been Samuel hearing this voice in the middle of the night, I might be tempted to seek out psychiatric care.) It was only after the 3rd time that he heard this voice that Eli, perhaps due to his diminishing ability to discern God’s voice, recognized the possibility that it was God calling. So, on the fourth visit by the voice of God, Samuel responds and begins his prophetic career.
On its face, the story marks the beginning of Samuel’s call to be a prophet, and as such there is little surprising to it – Samuel joins a long list of people in scripture who are also called to be God’s witnesses and prophets. What is surprising to me in the story, however, is that God called Samuel. I mean, if I were God and needed to get my message out and disseminated to the people, I would probably operate through the hierarchical structures that I had already established. I would probably start talking to Eli again, or maybe go through one of his sons who were priests and leaders of the people themselves (I know they were reprobates, but so were a number of people that God called to work with). If I didn’t like either of those options, I might even go to another recognized leader among the people, someone with some standing and credibility. I certainly would not choose a mere boy serving as a functionary in the temple. It is to Eli’s credit that he not only recognized that God might be calling Samuel, but accepted that God was calling Samuel and not him. Eli seems to have been able to accept the fact that God was acting in an unexpected way, calling an unexpected person, to do something new in Israel.
It is at this point that Samuel 3 intersects with the questions that I posed a few paragraphs ago. Sometimes we grow comfortable in the temple - grow comfortable with our worship services, comfortable with our lives, comfortable with our ministries. But maybe it is precisely because of our comfort in the temple, so to speak, that we forget that God does not always do what we expect; that the voice of the Lord can be found in unexpected people from unexpected places. Isn’t this the challenge of our gospel reading from John 1? When Philip told Nathaniel that the Messiah had come in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, what was Nathaniel’s response? “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”
I do not believe that the challenge of the church is to follow God. I think that if we collectively figured out what God wanted us to do and where God wanted us to go then we would show up in our millions. I believe the challenge of the church is to remember that God does not come to us in expected ways from expected people and expected places. God’s will is not always disseminated to us through the expected channels. Therefore, we must find ways to intentionally look for where God is speaking, acting, and calling. It will require wiser heads than mine to figure out the process for how to engage this process. But I believe that remembering to look and listen is a good first step.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Mark 1:4-11 - The baptism of the Lord
Virtually every Christian denomination affords baptism a very important place in its theology. We don’t all approach it in the same way – some do it as a response to salvation, some for salvation; some sprinkle while others immerse; for some baptism is done at infancy by parents and for others it is chosen by the individual. Regardless of our differences about reason, method, and time, however, we all believe that it is an important event early in the life of a Christian. For all of us it is an occasion where, in a unique way, the human interacts with God.
This meeting between the human and divine is no where more visible than in Jesus’ own baptism. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all include the story of Jesus’ baptism, and though John does not, he alludes to it in chapter 1:29-34. Interestingly, none of the gospels ever really settle the question of why Jesus decided to have John baptize him – Mark and Luke offer no reason at all, and Matthew’s reason (“it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”) is sufficiently vague so as to leave one still guessing.
The question of why Jesus got baptized is not merely an academic question; it posed a real problem for some early Christians and still continues to be a source of puzzlement for us today. A major tenet of the Christian faith is that Jesus lived a sinless life from birth until death. In fact, one could argue that Jesus’ sacrifice was good for all humanity precisely because he was sinless – an unspotted lamb brought to the sacrificial altar for the sins of the world. Paul even said it in 2 Corinthians 5:21 that “for our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” The problem is that Mark 1:4 very clearly says that John proclaimed a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Therefore, if Jesus submitted to John’s baptism, then does that mean that he was a sinner just like the rest of us? You can see where some might have a potential theological problem.
Obviously I believe, like Paul, that Jesus was sinless. Therefore, I am forced to conclude that Jesus was baptized for some other reason about which thousands of people throughout history have only been able to speculate. I don’t claim to suggest that I have solved the answer to this riddle…quite the contrary. But let me list a few reasons why Jesus might have decided to submit to John’s baptism.
First, his baptism is the occasion to announce his special status as God’s son. Remember that before John the Baptist arrived on the scene, the voice of God in Israel had gone quiet. Suddenly, John arrives and people believe that God is once again speaking to God’s people. And John points not to himself, but to the one who is coming after him, the one who would be the Messiah, the one who would baptize with the Holy Spirit. God was ready to do something new! But this time, God demonstrated that the new thing was going to happen in the person of the Son of God.
Second, through baptism, Jesus identifies with the sinners that he came to save, and therefore leads us in the way to a new relationship with God. Jesus came to bring about the kingdom of God. It was the most prominent theme of his teaching ministry. He called people to repent, to prepare for life in the kingdom. One way to speak of baptism is to speak of it as the door through which we enter the kingdom. It is not just an act that results in salvation or the forgiveness of sins, but it also prepares us for a new way of being in God’s kingdom. Jesus’ baptism signified that God was doing something new. It was the act at the beginning of his ministry which signified a new possibility – living in the kingdom of God. Our baptism serves the same function. We follow Jesus through the door to the kingdom. Baptism prepares us for a life lived in the kingdom, for this new and exciting possibility.
Third, Jesus’ baptism marks the kind of ministry that he would have. Christians have always associated baptism with the death of Jesus. Symbolically, at baptism we die, are buried, and resurrected as Christ was. Baptism can only function as a symbol of new life if it first leads us into death. So, for example, Paul wrote in Romans 6:3-4: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” If we look at Jesus’ baptism through the lens of our own understanding of baptism, then we can see how it prefigures the kind of life he would lead. Jesus’ ministry was going to be a ministry of radical self-denial that would lead him ultimately to his death on a cross. Jesus would be killed, buried, and then resurrected, conquering death. The end of his ministry is foreshadowed by the beginning of it.
Obviously I have not finally and completely answered the question of why Jesus was baptized. This is a question for the ages. Perhaps the question is never definitively answered because such an answer might encourage us to stop thinking about Jesus’ baptism, and thus stop thinking about how we are intimately connected with Jesus through our own baptism. That would be a tragedy!
This meeting between the human and divine is no where more visible than in Jesus’ own baptism. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all include the story of Jesus’ baptism, and though John does not, he alludes to it in chapter 1:29-34. Interestingly, none of the gospels ever really settle the question of why Jesus decided to have John baptize him – Mark and Luke offer no reason at all, and Matthew’s reason (“it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness”) is sufficiently vague so as to leave one still guessing.
The question of why Jesus got baptized is not merely an academic question; it posed a real problem for some early Christians and still continues to be a source of puzzlement for us today. A major tenet of the Christian faith is that Jesus lived a sinless life from birth until death. In fact, one could argue that Jesus’ sacrifice was good for all humanity precisely because he was sinless – an unspotted lamb brought to the sacrificial altar for the sins of the world. Paul even said it in 2 Corinthians 5:21 that “for our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” The problem is that Mark 1:4 very clearly says that John proclaimed a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Therefore, if Jesus submitted to John’s baptism, then does that mean that he was a sinner just like the rest of us? You can see where some might have a potential theological problem.
Obviously I believe, like Paul, that Jesus was sinless. Therefore, I am forced to conclude that Jesus was baptized for some other reason about which thousands of people throughout history have only been able to speculate. I don’t claim to suggest that I have solved the answer to this riddle…quite the contrary. But let me list a few reasons why Jesus might have decided to submit to John’s baptism.
First, his baptism is the occasion to announce his special status as God’s son. Remember that before John the Baptist arrived on the scene, the voice of God in Israel had gone quiet. Suddenly, John arrives and people believe that God is once again speaking to God’s people. And John points not to himself, but to the one who is coming after him, the one who would be the Messiah, the one who would baptize with the Holy Spirit. God was ready to do something new! But this time, God demonstrated that the new thing was going to happen in the person of the Son of God.
Second, through baptism, Jesus identifies with the sinners that he came to save, and therefore leads us in the way to a new relationship with God. Jesus came to bring about the kingdom of God. It was the most prominent theme of his teaching ministry. He called people to repent, to prepare for life in the kingdom. One way to speak of baptism is to speak of it as the door through which we enter the kingdom. It is not just an act that results in salvation or the forgiveness of sins, but it also prepares us for a new way of being in God’s kingdom. Jesus’ baptism signified that God was doing something new. It was the act at the beginning of his ministry which signified a new possibility – living in the kingdom of God. Our baptism serves the same function. We follow Jesus through the door to the kingdom. Baptism prepares us for a life lived in the kingdom, for this new and exciting possibility.
Third, Jesus’ baptism marks the kind of ministry that he would have. Christians have always associated baptism with the death of Jesus. Symbolically, at baptism we die, are buried, and resurrected as Christ was. Baptism can only function as a symbol of new life if it first leads us into death. So, for example, Paul wrote in Romans 6:3-4: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.” If we look at Jesus’ baptism through the lens of our own understanding of baptism, then we can see how it prefigures the kind of life he would lead. Jesus’ ministry was going to be a ministry of radical self-denial that would lead him ultimately to his death on a cross. Jesus would be killed, buried, and then resurrected, conquering death. The end of his ministry is foreshadowed by the beginning of it.
Obviously I have not finally and completely answered the question of why Jesus was baptized. This is a question for the ages. Perhaps the question is never definitively answered because such an answer might encourage us to stop thinking about Jesus’ baptism, and thus stop thinking about how we are intimately connected with Jesus through our own baptism. That would be a tragedy!
Sunday, January 4, 2009
A Reflection on Epiphany
This past Tuesday, January 6, a major Christian feast day slipped by, almost unnoticed. Tuesday was Epiphany, known in other places around the world as Three Kings’ Day, the day when the twelve drummers started drumming. In the West, the importance of Epiphany as a day has been lost in favor of an entire Epiphany season, which typically lasts until Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent.
Epiphany is the climax of the Advent/Christmas Season. Quite literally, it means “to show” or “to make known” or even “to reveal.” In Western churches, it remembers the coming of the wise men bringing gifts to visit the Christ child, who by so doing "reveal" Jesus to the world as Lord and King. The Wise Men or Magi who brought gifts to the young Jesus were the first Gentiles to acknowledge Jesus as "King" and so were the first to "show" or "reveal" Jesus to a wider world as the incarnate Christ. This act of worship by the Magi, which corresponded to Simeon’s blessing that this child Jesus would be "a light for revelation to the Gentiles" (Luke 2:32), was one of the first indications that Jesus came for all people, of all nations, of all races, and that the work of God in the world would not be limited to only a few.
Epiphany, as a season, is a time not simply to focus on the mission and work of Jesus which led to his death, burial, resurrection, but is also a time for us as a church to reflect on our mission to the world in light of Jesus’ work. So as we begin to think about how our service to God and the world will play out in 2009, let us remember the mission that we believe God has called us to, expressed in the Cahaba Valley Church Mission statement.
In love and faith, by grace, we seek to do God’s will, both as individuals and as part of a fellowship of believers known as Cahaba Valley Church, an Ecumenical Church of Christ. We believe God calls us to know and to be known by God through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit and to love all humans as God loves us.
To accomplish this mission we commit ourselves:
• To serve the poor and the poor in spirit
• To build relationships with those who seem separated from us by country, language, community, economy, race, age, gender, and creed
• To be with those who suffer and to share our burdens in prayer, that we may comfort and be comforted
• To seek simplicity and honesty in the face of the world’s temptation
• To celebrate the abundance of God’s blessings in worship and generosity
• To hunger after God’s word and seek the guidance of the Spirit in prayer and fasting
• To nurture the young and the young in Christ, sharing the Good News in word and deed
• To praise and worship God in unity with brothers and sisters throughout creation
• To cherish and encourage the intimacy of membership in God’s family, to gather in God’s house and in our homes for meals, prayer, play, work, and worship
• To encourage and equip one another to use the gifts God gives us for service
• To leave our hearts and purposes open to God’s surprising actions
• To experience the joy and peace that comes from being a child of God
In all this, we ask God to send us forth in boldness, filled with grace and love.
Epiphany is the climax of the Advent/Christmas Season. Quite literally, it means “to show” or “to make known” or even “to reveal.” In Western churches, it remembers the coming of the wise men bringing gifts to visit the Christ child, who by so doing "reveal" Jesus to the world as Lord and King. The Wise Men or Magi who brought gifts to the young Jesus were the first Gentiles to acknowledge Jesus as "King" and so were the first to "show" or "reveal" Jesus to a wider world as the incarnate Christ. This act of worship by the Magi, which corresponded to Simeon’s blessing that this child Jesus would be "a light for revelation to the Gentiles" (Luke 2:32), was one of the first indications that Jesus came for all people, of all nations, of all races, and that the work of God in the world would not be limited to only a few.
Epiphany, as a season, is a time not simply to focus on the mission and work of Jesus which led to his death, burial, resurrection, but is also a time for us as a church to reflect on our mission to the world in light of Jesus’ work. So as we begin to think about how our service to God and the world will play out in 2009, let us remember the mission that we believe God has called us to, expressed in the Cahaba Valley Church Mission statement.
In love and faith, by grace, we seek to do God’s will, both as individuals and as part of a fellowship of believers known as Cahaba Valley Church, an Ecumenical Church of Christ. We believe God calls us to know and to be known by God through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit and to love all humans as God loves us.
To accomplish this mission we commit ourselves:
• To serve the poor and the poor in spirit
• To build relationships with those who seem separated from us by country, language, community, economy, race, age, gender, and creed
• To be with those who suffer and to share our burdens in prayer, that we may comfort and be comforted
• To seek simplicity and honesty in the face of the world’s temptation
• To celebrate the abundance of God’s blessings in worship and generosity
• To hunger after God’s word and seek the guidance of the Spirit in prayer and fasting
• To nurture the young and the young in Christ, sharing the Good News in word and deed
• To praise and worship God in unity with brothers and sisters throughout creation
• To cherish and encourage the intimacy of membership in God’s family, to gather in God’s house and in our homes for meals, prayer, play, work, and worship
• To encourage and equip one another to use the gifts God gives us for service
• To leave our hearts and purposes open to God’s surprising actions
• To experience the joy and peace that comes from being a child of God
In all this, we ask God to send us forth in boldness, filled with grace and love.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Isaiah 40:1-11 and Mark 1:1-8 - What are we waiting for?
(Click on the title above to listen to this sermon)
Advent is a time of hope and expectation for the church; a time when we look forward to the incarnation of Christ, celebrated at Christmas. But Advent also looks forward toward the 2nd Advent of Christ. Advent is the ultimate period of time in which, collectively, the church begins to wait, and see.
But what are we waiting for? Advent can be reduced to simply a prep time for waiting for the birth of Jesus to the exclusion of its expectation of the 2nd Advent of Christ. That is certainly the dominant message that gets proclaimed at Advent – Jesus is coming! But are we really waiting? Do we really want something to happen? Do we really want the something different that Advent promises us? This is the challenge of Sunday’s lectionary readings from Isaiah 40 and Mark 1.
As chapter Isaiah 40 begins, Israel has experienced the tragedy of massive defeat, endured the agony of exile in Babylon, and suffered the unthinkable – God has let the people, and even God’s own house, be destroyed. And so during the time between Isaiah 39 and 40, Israel experienced a period of divine silence.
Divine silence is hard to deal with. We know God is out there, we know God is ruling and is continuing to be sovereign and work out God’s plan. What we don’t know, when faced with divine silence, is whether or not God continues to care for and love us as God’s people, especially when God is silent while we experience severe hardship and pain, as Israel experienced the degradation of their religion, holy places, faith community, and way of life.
Finally, at long last, a message came from God – Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God... At long last, our captivity is over and God is going to act. Isaiah describes a time when God will restore the people and reveal God’s glory, but first the way must be prepared. This preparation will be like a road carved out of the wilderness…valleys will be filled in, mountains will be brought down…the very earth will be leveled so that God’s restoration will have a way and God’s glory can come forth. And so Isaiah was to preach that though life is impermanent and fleeting, God’s word is permanent, and will last forever. God will come and restore the people. God will be a great and mighty warrior to rescue the people, but will treat them like a shepherd tends to his flock; God will act like a mother sheep, leading her children to safety. Isaiah 40 ends in expectant hope.
Our passage from Mark 1 combines Malachi 3 and Isaiah 40 to tell us that John is the one the prophets spoke of, that John is the one who is going to prepare the way and proclaim the salvation of God. And so we read that “John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,” and that Jesus is coming.
I have been guilty of making the anticipated mystery of God a wholly spiritual one. I have been guilty of making Jesus’ message and the message of the New Testament simply and exclusively about redemption from sin. But we mustn’t forget that the comfort of Isaiah 40, in fact the anticipation of the coming of the Messiah throughout the Old Testament, was not primarily about salvation from sin, but about salvation from oppression and injustice. The people longed for a day when the evil forces of this world would be defeated. Salvation would be from the systemic evil of the world expressed in evil empires and tyrants, from one class of society oppressing another, from one group of people going hungry while another ate their fill, from systems that are designed to keep one group poor so that another can get rich. Yes salvation was for the forgiveness of sins, but it is not limited to that…the anticipated salvation from God was for a new world order to begin. And onto this expectant scene for a new world order marches the voice crying out in the wilderness saying the kingdom is coming, the new manifestation of God’s reign is coming – and the way to prepare for it is to repent.
Advent is not just about waiting for Jesus so we can have our sins forgiven. Advent has always been about waiting for God to act redemptively in the world to bring shalom, or peace, or health, or wholeness to it. Peace between us and God; peace or shalom between us; and there can be no peace or shalom until there is equity and justice – until there is reconciliation. We are waiting for the very manifestation of God’s reign that the people of Israel in Egypt and the captive Jews in Babylon were waiting for. We are waiting for the manifestation of the very kingdom of God that the 1st century Jews and Christians were waiting for.
The people of God, on both sides of the cross, have always been looking for God to move and act redemptively in the world. I think this is why John’s message was a message of repentance. John tells us that repentance is primarily a relational event. Repentance is a way to restore relationships with other people and repentance is a way to be reconciled or restored to God. This message is brought out best in Luke 3, which contains a fuller version of John’s preaching and call to repentance in anticipation of the coming salvation of the Lord.
Repentance is acting out the new kind of life made possible by the redemptive act of God. Repentance is living out the life of the kingdom that we are waiting for. Repentance is about turning around and actively working against the forces of evil that seek to build barriers between people and between people and God. It is about restoring equity and justice in our relationships with other people. And it is about recognizing when we are participating in systems of injustice and inequity and seeking to right that wrong. Repentance is about acting now in a way that honors the one who is coming who will act finally and redemptively at the end to bring about final and complete shalom, to and for all people. And if Isaiah and John are to be believed, when the people of God repent in preparation for the coming redemptive action of God, a new world is born.
Sunday was the 2nd Sunday of Advent. Originally, Advent was a time of penitence and fasting, much as the Season of Lent. But in recent times, the penitential nature of Advent has been replaced with a more positive message of hope and anticipation. However, the readings for the 2nd Sunday in Advent put the two together. They proclaim to us a message of comfort that salvation is coming, but call on us to repent because salvation is coming.
The challenge of Advent is to see that God is always a God of Advent. God is always doing something new. God is always working to bring peace and reconciliation. This is who God is. Our task is to look for those places where God is working; and I think that we will find some extraordinary things. God works through a baby in a manger in an insignificant town in a tiny country to change the world. God works through the shame of a cross, a death that robs one of dignity and significance in order to bring dignity and significance to the world. Could it also be that God works through a small and seemingly insignificant church to change the world again? I think that is what we are waiting for. May it be so!
Advent is a time of hope and expectation for the church; a time when we look forward to the incarnation of Christ, celebrated at Christmas. But Advent also looks forward toward the 2nd Advent of Christ. Advent is the ultimate period of time in which, collectively, the church begins to wait, and see.
But what are we waiting for? Advent can be reduced to simply a prep time for waiting for the birth of Jesus to the exclusion of its expectation of the 2nd Advent of Christ. That is certainly the dominant message that gets proclaimed at Advent – Jesus is coming! But are we really waiting? Do we really want something to happen? Do we really want the something different that Advent promises us? This is the challenge of Sunday’s lectionary readings from Isaiah 40 and Mark 1.
As chapter Isaiah 40 begins, Israel has experienced the tragedy of massive defeat, endured the agony of exile in Babylon, and suffered the unthinkable – God has let the people, and even God’s own house, be destroyed. And so during the time between Isaiah 39 and 40, Israel experienced a period of divine silence.
Divine silence is hard to deal with. We know God is out there, we know God is ruling and is continuing to be sovereign and work out God’s plan. What we don’t know, when faced with divine silence, is whether or not God continues to care for and love us as God’s people, especially when God is silent while we experience severe hardship and pain, as Israel experienced the degradation of their religion, holy places, faith community, and way of life.
Finally, at long last, a message came from God – Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God... At long last, our captivity is over and God is going to act. Isaiah describes a time when God will restore the people and reveal God’s glory, but first the way must be prepared. This preparation will be like a road carved out of the wilderness…valleys will be filled in, mountains will be brought down…the very earth will be leveled so that God’s restoration will have a way and God’s glory can come forth. And so Isaiah was to preach that though life is impermanent and fleeting, God’s word is permanent, and will last forever. God will come and restore the people. God will be a great and mighty warrior to rescue the people, but will treat them like a shepherd tends to his flock; God will act like a mother sheep, leading her children to safety. Isaiah 40 ends in expectant hope.
Our passage from Mark 1 combines Malachi 3 and Isaiah 40 to tell us that John is the one the prophets spoke of, that John is the one who is going to prepare the way and proclaim the salvation of God. And so we read that “John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,” and that Jesus is coming.
I have been guilty of making the anticipated mystery of God a wholly spiritual one. I have been guilty of making Jesus’ message and the message of the New Testament simply and exclusively about redemption from sin. But we mustn’t forget that the comfort of Isaiah 40, in fact the anticipation of the coming of the Messiah throughout the Old Testament, was not primarily about salvation from sin, but about salvation from oppression and injustice. The people longed for a day when the evil forces of this world would be defeated. Salvation would be from the systemic evil of the world expressed in evil empires and tyrants, from one class of society oppressing another, from one group of people going hungry while another ate their fill, from systems that are designed to keep one group poor so that another can get rich. Yes salvation was for the forgiveness of sins, but it is not limited to that…the anticipated salvation from God was for a new world order to begin. And onto this expectant scene for a new world order marches the voice crying out in the wilderness saying the kingdom is coming, the new manifestation of God’s reign is coming – and the way to prepare for it is to repent.
Advent is not just about waiting for Jesus so we can have our sins forgiven. Advent has always been about waiting for God to act redemptively in the world to bring shalom, or peace, or health, or wholeness to it. Peace between us and God; peace or shalom between us; and there can be no peace or shalom until there is equity and justice – until there is reconciliation. We are waiting for the very manifestation of God’s reign that the people of Israel in Egypt and the captive Jews in Babylon were waiting for. We are waiting for the manifestation of the very kingdom of God that the 1st century Jews and Christians were waiting for.
The people of God, on both sides of the cross, have always been looking for God to move and act redemptively in the world. I think this is why John’s message was a message of repentance. John tells us that repentance is primarily a relational event. Repentance is a way to restore relationships with other people and repentance is a way to be reconciled or restored to God. This message is brought out best in Luke 3, which contains a fuller version of John’s preaching and call to repentance in anticipation of the coming salvation of the Lord.
Repentance is acting out the new kind of life made possible by the redemptive act of God. Repentance is living out the life of the kingdom that we are waiting for. Repentance is about turning around and actively working against the forces of evil that seek to build barriers between people and between people and God. It is about restoring equity and justice in our relationships with other people. And it is about recognizing when we are participating in systems of injustice and inequity and seeking to right that wrong. Repentance is about acting now in a way that honors the one who is coming who will act finally and redemptively at the end to bring about final and complete shalom, to and for all people. And if Isaiah and John are to be believed, when the people of God repent in preparation for the coming redemptive action of God, a new world is born.
Sunday was the 2nd Sunday of Advent. Originally, Advent was a time of penitence and fasting, much as the Season of Lent. But in recent times, the penitential nature of Advent has been replaced with a more positive message of hope and anticipation. However, the readings for the 2nd Sunday in Advent put the two together. They proclaim to us a message of comfort that salvation is coming, but call on us to repent because salvation is coming.
The challenge of Advent is to see that God is always a God of Advent. God is always doing something new. God is always working to bring peace and reconciliation. This is who God is. Our task is to look for those places where God is working; and I think that we will find some extraordinary things. God works through a baby in a manger in an insignificant town in a tiny country to change the world. God works through the shame of a cross, a death that robs one of dignity and significance in order to bring dignity and significance to the world. Could it also be that God works through a small and seemingly insignificant church to change the world again? I think that is what we are waiting for. May it be so!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Psalm 80: A Cry for God's Salvation
(Click on the above title to hear JJ's sermon from Psalm 80)
The lectionary asked us to consider Psalm 80 as a part of the readings for the 1st Sunday in Advent. Despite the difficulty presented by the Psalms as a resource for preaching (their liturgical purpose, the difficulty in determining their historical context, and the communal nature of the Psalms), it seemed appropriate to begin the Christian year with a Psalm that has the Lord’s people crying out for the Lord’s salvation and deliverance.
Psalm 80 is a psalm of lament. Lament Psalms can have a hard time connecting with contemporary American Christian audiences, perhaps because so much of the American Christian experience over the last few decades has been largely a triumphant experience. The dominant theme of American Christianity is the goodness of God. We tend to equate material wealth and economic prosperity as signs of the blessing of God, which while true, tends to create a fairly skewed view of Christianity. However, psalms of lament insert a mournful and angry tone into worship, inviting believers to confess their own disillusionments and disappointments with life and with God. So for a church that has been nurtured consistently on messages of God’s goodness and grace and mercy, a Psalm that is angry with God and accuses God of abandoning God’s people and being responsible for their pain and suffering has a difficult time connecting. We are largely uncomfortable with such accusatory expressions directed at God, and even more uncomfortable with their public expression in worship, where we tend to favor messages that have a more positive spin.
But back to Psalm 80. It starts off rather bleak. We are not told of the situation, but the community is crying out for God to save them. The cry of verse 2 – “Stir up your might and come and save us!” becomes the refrain of the entire Psalm, found in vs. 3, 7, and 19 – “Restore us, O God of hosts, let your face shine, that we may be saved.”
The actual situation that gives birth to the cry for salvation is difficult to establish. Some have suggested that the psalm was written in the aftermath of the Babylonian exile by a people who have had to come to grips with the ultimate challenge to their faith – abandonment by God that led to a loss of their home country. Others have suggested that the cry of salvation arose as the intense cry of pain from a community that has been torn in two by the division of the kingdom between Rehoboam and Jeroboam after Solomon died. Regardless of the situation, the cry for restoration is a communal cry for God to restore the kingdom, to right the wrong that they believe has been done to them by God.
Their experience is apparently one of pain. The people are afraid, and feel abandoned and frustrated because of it. All the while God appears to them to be unmoved by their plight. God seems strangely absent. And so the Psalm moves from a cry for restoration to a tone of accusation. God has fed them the bread of tears, God has made them the scorn of their neighbors and God has caused their enemies to laugh at them. Finally, after cries of pain and accusation, the Psalm ends with a plea for God to send his righteous servant to restore the people back to God.
How do we connect with such a Psalm of lament?
Many people never question their relationship with God. They know God is present and in some cases are keenly aware of that presence most of the time. But for others, such a relationship with God is not easy. For these people, faith is a challenge, especially when confronted with difficult circumstances and situations in life that just make no sense and have no real solution. For some, they just can’t seem to find their place in life. For others, they just can’t seem to get ahead and can’t seem to get over the lumps that everyday life keeps sending them. We all have either experienced or known people who have experienced the feelings of fear, uncertainty, abandonment, and anger toward God that are engendered in Psalm 80. For these people, it is comforting to know that God can handle our lamentations…God can handle our questions and God can handle our accusations. However challenging and discouraging and discombobulating we might find the dark night of the soul, it can be a vehicle toward greater faith, if we have but the courage to lay our feelings and emotions honestly before God.
But the Psalm is a communal lament. In the Psalm, the community is afraid because the kingdom that they once knew is no longer. Whether the Psalm is about the divided kingdom or the Babylonian exile, the situation for the kingdom looks bleak. It went from a thriving, growing, powerful kingdom to a small and seemingly insignificant kingdom, threatened by its larger, richer, and more powerful neighbors. The faith community, finally and at long last, has realized that there is nothing for it to do but cry to God for salvation, and wait expectantly for God’s deliverance. And their expectant hope took concrete shape in the form of a person who is at God’s right hand, the one whom God made strong, and this person will restore the people to faithfulness, life, and worship – waiting for the advent of God’s divine action for God’s people.
I submit that our church situation is the situation of the community in Psalm 80. We were once larger than we are, but over time have gotten smaller. We are surrounded by larger and richer churches who are competing (probably not the right word) for the same new members that we are. We are struggling to find our way; to discern the will of God; to figure out a way to survive and thrive and grow when it seems as if the deck is stacked against us. We too are afraid of what is going to happen to our church in the future. I would even bet that there might be those among us who have a hard time deciding what God can possibly be doing to let things get to this point. We have done everything as faithfully as we knew how. We made decisions and congregational moves that we believed were the best for the church, and because we believed them to be the leading of the Holy Spirit, and yet now we are not sure what to do or where to go.
Psalm 80 is a psalm in which the community of faith acknowledges that on the one hand God is in control, but on the other hand laments because of the uncertainty of its present circumstance and is clearly waiting for God to come and save us. Today is the 1st Sunday in Advent, and lament is appropriate language for Advent. If Advent were only about heart-warming stories of a baby in a manger, then Advent might fail to connect with us in our times of darkness and discontent. To own our fear and lament our circumstance and the challenges it brings us is to profess and deepen our own faith in God. Let us not forget that Psalm 80 – a psalm of lament, moves from despair and accusation, fear and abandonment to a renewed hope that God will act and see that God’s will is done. So perhaps our proper response to our circumstances, as Advent begins, is to mimic the act of faith and hope in Psalm 80 – to cry out to God and dare to see and expect a greater manifestation of the reign of God where others might see and expect nothing. Like the people in Psalm 80, we address God when God seems absent. We expect and hope that in spite of our fears, we will see God in the most surprising places – in a manger – or the most God-forsaken places – on a cross.
Advent is the time where we cry out – “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts, let your face shine that we may be saved.”
The lectionary asked us to consider Psalm 80 as a part of the readings for the 1st Sunday in Advent. Despite the difficulty presented by the Psalms as a resource for preaching (their liturgical purpose, the difficulty in determining their historical context, and the communal nature of the Psalms), it seemed appropriate to begin the Christian year with a Psalm that has the Lord’s people crying out for the Lord’s salvation and deliverance.
Psalm 80 is a psalm of lament. Lament Psalms can have a hard time connecting with contemporary American Christian audiences, perhaps because so much of the American Christian experience over the last few decades has been largely a triumphant experience. The dominant theme of American Christianity is the goodness of God. We tend to equate material wealth and economic prosperity as signs of the blessing of God, which while true, tends to create a fairly skewed view of Christianity. However, psalms of lament insert a mournful and angry tone into worship, inviting believers to confess their own disillusionments and disappointments with life and with God. So for a church that has been nurtured consistently on messages of God’s goodness and grace and mercy, a Psalm that is angry with God and accuses God of abandoning God’s people and being responsible for their pain and suffering has a difficult time connecting. We are largely uncomfortable with such accusatory expressions directed at God, and even more uncomfortable with their public expression in worship, where we tend to favor messages that have a more positive spin.
But back to Psalm 80. It starts off rather bleak. We are not told of the situation, but the community is crying out for God to save them. The cry of verse 2 – “Stir up your might and come and save us!” becomes the refrain of the entire Psalm, found in vs. 3, 7, and 19 – “Restore us, O God of hosts, let your face shine, that we may be saved.”
The actual situation that gives birth to the cry for salvation is difficult to establish. Some have suggested that the psalm was written in the aftermath of the Babylonian exile by a people who have had to come to grips with the ultimate challenge to their faith – abandonment by God that led to a loss of their home country. Others have suggested that the cry of salvation arose as the intense cry of pain from a community that has been torn in two by the division of the kingdom between Rehoboam and Jeroboam after Solomon died. Regardless of the situation, the cry for restoration is a communal cry for God to restore the kingdom, to right the wrong that they believe has been done to them by God.
Their experience is apparently one of pain. The people are afraid, and feel abandoned and frustrated because of it. All the while God appears to them to be unmoved by their plight. God seems strangely absent. And so the Psalm moves from a cry for restoration to a tone of accusation. God has fed them the bread of tears, God has made them the scorn of their neighbors and God has caused their enemies to laugh at them. Finally, after cries of pain and accusation, the Psalm ends with a plea for God to send his righteous servant to restore the people back to God.
How do we connect with such a Psalm of lament?
Many people never question their relationship with God. They know God is present and in some cases are keenly aware of that presence most of the time. But for others, such a relationship with God is not easy. For these people, faith is a challenge, especially when confronted with difficult circumstances and situations in life that just make no sense and have no real solution. For some, they just can’t seem to find their place in life. For others, they just can’t seem to get ahead and can’t seem to get over the lumps that everyday life keeps sending them. We all have either experienced or known people who have experienced the feelings of fear, uncertainty, abandonment, and anger toward God that are engendered in Psalm 80. For these people, it is comforting to know that God can handle our lamentations…God can handle our questions and God can handle our accusations. However challenging and discouraging and discombobulating we might find the dark night of the soul, it can be a vehicle toward greater faith, if we have but the courage to lay our feelings and emotions honestly before God.
But the Psalm is a communal lament. In the Psalm, the community is afraid because the kingdom that they once knew is no longer. Whether the Psalm is about the divided kingdom or the Babylonian exile, the situation for the kingdom looks bleak. It went from a thriving, growing, powerful kingdom to a small and seemingly insignificant kingdom, threatened by its larger, richer, and more powerful neighbors. The faith community, finally and at long last, has realized that there is nothing for it to do but cry to God for salvation, and wait expectantly for God’s deliverance. And their expectant hope took concrete shape in the form of a person who is at God’s right hand, the one whom God made strong, and this person will restore the people to faithfulness, life, and worship – waiting for the advent of God’s divine action for God’s people.
I submit that our church situation is the situation of the community in Psalm 80. We were once larger than we are, but over time have gotten smaller. We are surrounded by larger and richer churches who are competing (probably not the right word) for the same new members that we are. We are struggling to find our way; to discern the will of God; to figure out a way to survive and thrive and grow when it seems as if the deck is stacked against us. We too are afraid of what is going to happen to our church in the future. I would even bet that there might be those among us who have a hard time deciding what God can possibly be doing to let things get to this point. We have done everything as faithfully as we knew how. We made decisions and congregational moves that we believed were the best for the church, and because we believed them to be the leading of the Holy Spirit, and yet now we are not sure what to do or where to go.
Psalm 80 is a psalm in which the community of faith acknowledges that on the one hand God is in control, but on the other hand laments because of the uncertainty of its present circumstance and is clearly waiting for God to come and save us. Today is the 1st Sunday in Advent, and lament is appropriate language for Advent. If Advent were only about heart-warming stories of a baby in a manger, then Advent might fail to connect with us in our times of darkness and discontent. To own our fear and lament our circumstance and the challenges it brings us is to profess and deepen our own faith in God. Let us not forget that Psalm 80 – a psalm of lament, moves from despair and accusation, fear and abandonment to a renewed hope that God will act and see that God’s will is done. So perhaps our proper response to our circumstances, as Advent begins, is to mimic the act of faith and hope in Psalm 80 – to cry out to God and dare to see and expect a greater manifestation of the reign of God where others might see and expect nothing. Like the people in Psalm 80, we address God when God seems absent. We expect and hope that in spite of our fears, we will see God in the most surprising places – in a manger – or the most God-forsaken places – on a cross.
Advent is the time where we cry out – “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts, let your face shine that we may be saved.”
Mark 4:35-41 - Jesus is in the boat
(Click on the title above to hear JJ's sermon)
This sermon was recorded at the Rosedale Fellowship gathering, of which Cahaba Valley is a part. Rosedale is the only African American neighborhood in Homewood, and Cahaba Valley got involved with the Rosedale churches as a part of a social justice effort to keep Rosedale from being taken over and developed for business and commercial use. This is a gathering held every 5th Sunday, and JJ preached at the last one held this year.
Mark 4:35-41
On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’
This sermon was recorded at the Rosedale Fellowship gathering, of which Cahaba Valley is a part. Rosedale is the only African American neighborhood in Homewood, and Cahaba Valley got involved with the Rosedale churches as a part of a social justice effort to keep Rosedale from being taken over and developed for business and commercial use. This is a gathering held every 5th Sunday, and JJ preached at the last one held this year.
Mark 4:35-41
On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’ And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. A great gale arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?’ And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?’
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