God Must Laugh

everything could’ve been tofu

Open Source Sermon: Complete

Title: Jesus is My Facebook Friend

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Video Here (You’ll note minor differences between the text and the video. Those are my fault, most often the result of looking up from the text to engage the congregation.)

The church father Tertullian asked a lingering question, “What does Athens have to do with Jerusalem? Or the Academy with the Church?” Meaning, what is the connection between Christianity and philosophy? Is there a connection at all? Should there be? Today, the question might be, “What does Jerusalem have to do with Silicon Valley?”

When I was a kid, I watched the Jetsons. It rocked. Robot maids, your own personal spaceship which transformed into a briefcase, and turkey dinners at the push of a button. I dreamed about the future. Talking via video phone to my buddy on Mars; telling my car, “Home, James!” and then reading my holographic comic book in the backseat while the car flew me there; or hopping the mach 9 train to London for lunch and spot of tea. But the future arrived without my dreams on board. We never walked on Mars. My car still drives with four wheels firmly planted, turkey still takes all day to cook, and I still have to clean my own house. Instead of flying cars, we got the internet.

The internet brought us into a digital age, full of information and unprecedented connectivity. At least, that’s what the ads say. We can google weather patterns in Mongolia in as much time as it takes to check the clouds over Wauwatosa. We can get news delivered instantly to our phones. We can send cute pictures to grandma down in Florida. The internet is amazing! But there is another reality behind the hype.

The net has two inherent flaws: information overload, and information equality. But information overload isn’t the real problem. As David Allen says, “If information overload were the problem, the first time you walk into a library your head would explode.” The problem isn’t info; it’s meaning. Each bit of information lays some claim on us, on our attention, pulling us in a hundred different directions. Why? Because all the information is equal.

In the age of newspapers and television, you could at least hold someone accountable when they spread useless, false, or harmful ideas. Now the bigots, racists, terrorists, and nutjobs get their own websites. There is no such thing as a “fringe” opinion anymore, because anyone can find a compatriot on the net willing to champion their cause. Did you know there are now online communities dedicated to helping girls stay anorexic? It’s call “Pro Ana” and in pro-anorexia. They share tips on how to avoid raising suspicion, how to evade your parent’s intrusive attempts to make sure you don’t starve yourself to death. They encourage each other and share pictures of thin girls. They call in thinspiration. Welcome to the net. All the pain and brokenness of the world, in every shade and style, can now be served up 24/7 in the privacy of your own home.

The internet is a land of illusion. You never really know who is on the other side. No one has names, only handles, nicknames that can be changed or discarded at will. The results are predictable: rude, crude, and lewd. Even the so-called anonymity of the net is an illusion, when every site you visit is being recorded by your internet service provider. Counterintuitively, the net leaves some of us feeling more disconnected than ever before. Kids flunk out because they’re too busy playing video games, marriages fail thanks to online pornography or gambling addictions. People are plugged into their computers but distant from their families. Friends fight over the misunderstood intention of a text message, when a simple face to face would have solved the problem.

At first, it looked like the net was just a toy for geeks and professors. Then some brilliant miscreant reinvented the world’s oldest profession, simultaneously launching e-commerce, the dot com bubble, and the world’s largest collection of pornography. When I talk technology with adults today, the most common feeling they share is fear. We are afraid someone is going to steal our identity, or stalk our children. We’re afraid the violent exploitation that passes for “adult entertainment” will warp their self-image. We’re afraid the minds of the next generation will be so numbed by video games that they won’t be prepared to lead our country. We’re afraid their moral compass will be so broken they won’t care for us when we’re old. We’re afraid that someone we love will be the next to appear on the endless parade of brokenness we call the evening news.

But are these problems exclusive to the digital realm? Don’t these same fears exist in our face-to-face relationships? We hide our true selves from each other, even at church, especially at church. How many people really know you? How many people do you trust enough to let your guard down? We wear the masks of polite society. Addictions –to alcohol, or drugs, or whatever–have always hidden behind closed doors. Child abuse is not an internet phenomenon. All these things that we fear about the net: addiction, abuse, theft, bullying, con-games, these are not new problems. The internet is simply magnifying and making more visible what was already there.

The promises of the future are not ALL empty and the results of technology are not all bad. Despite the very real hazards of the internet, there are also very real opportunities. Your kids and grandkids really do have friends from other countries; not “penpals,” but actual friends that they have relationships with–share life with–on a daily basis. They can become members of communities with similar ideals from all across the globe. That exposure to people outside their physical world means this upcoming generation really is more open-minded and less prejudiced than those that came before.

We denigrate exclusively digital relationships. But perhaps in the safe-shelter of cyber space–the soul can emerge in a way that is difficult in the “real” world. Parker Palmer, in his book entitled A Hidden Wholeness (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2004), writes of the need for space in our lives to be open to others–to bare our souls. In our communities we can readily see people’s intellect, their emotions, and certainly their egos! But rarely do we connect to someone’s soul. Palmer says the soul is shy. It does not surface amongst the noise of ego or the intimidation of the intellect. Only in a “circle of trust” does the soul come out to play. Such a circle is not common in the world, or even in our churches, but on the internet, where one has the shield of a virtual identity free of reprisals, it is easier to share the things we would keep hidden.

Perhaps this cyber-world–despite its potential evils and lurking dangers–really has something to offer. A place to connect without the “language games or interpersonal dances” we engage in as human beings. Perhaps our image of “the net” is not one which entangles and ensnares, but one which binds up wounds and heals the broken hearted. . .

You’d be amazed how many people helped write this sermon: an old friend of mine from high school, professors from undergrad and graduate schools, fellow congregational ministers, lay people and ministers from the Emerging Church conversation, skateboarders from Tosa Skateboarders United, athiests, agnostics, and Hindus from my favorite gamer community. One of them asked me to share this story with you. He says:

“I was raised as a Christian, and I believed for most of my life. I think the worst thing for my beliefs was going to a Christian middle school - The way many of those people acted while calling themselves ‘Christian’ and going to a ‘Christian’ school was just something I couldn’t stand. Granted, it was better than going to public school, but it wasn’t good for my beliefs. I started doubting then; It really kicked me when I went into 9th grade in a public school. There were so many people who claimed they were Christian and acted horrible - And there were so many people who were not that acted so much better. I never stopped believing there was a ‘God’ or perhaps ‘gods’ - It didn’t make sense to me otherwise - but I did stop believing in the bible. Later, I found Rob through a game called ‘Allegiance’ - I didn’t talk to him for quite a while, as I didn’t want to talk to someone as religious as him while I was not. Then he started his blog - That is what brought me back. A person that can be in a game based on war, and be familiar with computers, and still be a pastor was something I’d never expect. I started reading his blog, and the subject of this thing, the ‘Open Source Sermon,’ came up. I was interested, and offered an topic (Aliens, because the Vatican had recently acknowledged that they could exist), although I still didn’t consider myself ‘Christian.’ Now that there is work on it, and just with talking to him, I’ve now returned to considering myself ‘Christian’ - Although my views might get some people in a stir, with some differences in interpretations from what is considered the norm. It’s weird, though, that I am a Christian because of a video game.”

What does all this have to do with the church? Kevin Kelly coined the word “generatives” to talk about those things that are “better than free,” things that hold their value in a digital world because they can never be copied and transmitted over a network, things like: immediacy, authenticity, and embodiment. Those generatives might be rare commodities on the net, but churches, at their best, have always been generative communities. The immediacy of a live sermon and music sung by a trained choir, the authenticity of friendships built over years, even the simple embodiment of dragging yourself out of bed and going to the meeting house, to listen and to learn. These things can never be digitized.

Local congregations are local for a reason. They connect specific groups of people in a specific place at a specific time. Online relationships offer a chance to explore ideas and connect with people across the globe. But we need both! Recent history has shown us that people are moving towards a more global community, and the internet is certainly paving the way. We need exposure to a global perspective to be aware of the changing world around us. We also need a touchstone to ground us in our community lest we lose sight of the people around us. The digital can be great for addressing global issues, but it’s people that need the real help. People with names and faces. What good are all those digital words, if we don’t actually help someone? What good is the internet without the church?

Paul speaks of the church in 1 Corinthians. He uses an analogy of the human body–we, as Christ’s followers, make up the whole body of Christ. There are 206 bones in the body of a mature adult, somewhere between 656 and 850 muscles–depending on which expert you ask. Think about all of the parts–connected through the nervous system and the circulatory system; parts that “communicate” with each other and the brain. The body must communicate in order to function. Strokes, Alzheimer’s, and paralyzation are all so debilitating specifically because they disrupt communication. Not all of the parts “see” each other face-to-face. An eye will never have direct contact with a pancreas, but if the pancreas stops functioning the eye can lose its ability to see. Indeed, as Paul says–if one part suffers the rest suffers along with it; if one part is honored, the whole rejoices.

Paul was not thinking of the internet when he wrote this letter. However, by writing this letter he was using the best technology of his day to communicate with the body of Christ in Corinth. We do the same today. Missionaries in far away lands send prayer requests and celebrations to home congregations and inspire that part of the body of Christ to keep moving and supporting mission work. Youth ministers continue to counsel with those placed under their care, even when they leave for college, even when they leave for Iraq. These tools are an opportunity to reclaim the fellowship that once defined us as people.

The Christians of Acts 2 were in each other’s lives. They did not just see each other one day of the week for a couple of hours. Church was often an all day event. Meals were shared. Throughout the week people saw each other, worked together, played together. Look around you this morning. Ask yourself, “How often do I see these people during the week? Do I know them? Or are we just aquaintances sharing a pew?”

Facebook and Twitter are two online services that let you share tiny little updates on your life. One of the ministers who helped write this sermon uses Facebook to keep up with several of his congregation. He says, “It’s great to see the status messages–to know what is going on with folks day by day so that I can ’suffer or rejoice’ with them–so that they can be prayed for.” Likewise his updates help them feel connected to their minister in a new way. These are real status updates from his Facebook page “just hanging out with my spouse for the day;” “feeling kind of squishy;” “glad the hard part of the day is over;” “reading Martin Buber;” “watching the Coco channel on TV while spinning yarn and really should go to bed”

These updates, mundane as they seem, give real insight. They provide a bird’s eye view into someone’s life, a gestalt of all the things they’d never waste your time to mention face to face. Would you pick up the phone and call 125 friends to let them know what you’re sitting in church right now? But this moment is part of who you are, a reflection of your soul. Palmer says, “Community does not necessarily mean living face-to-face with others; rather it means never losing the awareness that we are connected to each other. It is not about the presence of other people–it is about being fully open to the reality of relationship, whether or not we are alone” (Wholeness, 2004:55).

All the things we take for granted, a meeting hall, a hymnal, an organ, all of these were once innovations. Our pilgrim ancestors would never have allowed a “devil’s box of whistles” in their house of worship, yet for some of us the most spiritually intense moments of our lives are associated with the swell of an organ and congregational song.

But what about the non-techies? There are some people in this room that wouldn’t know a blog if it came up and bit them, and there is nothing wrong with that. Can we state that clearly and for the record? If you’re not interested in developing an entirely new skillset just so you can send someone an email, that is ok. But there’s another story that doesn’t get much screen time. Some people want desperately to join the online community, but they don’t have that choice. That choice is made for them. How do we connect with the digitally marginalized? That kind of problem was tailor made for the church because it means helping individuals who have names and faces. It means learning their stories, and teaching them new ones. It means understanding their context, all the social and economic webs that are contributing to their problems, and helping them change that context by first changing themselves.

That’s the work of a lifetime, and you cannot do it sitting in a pew. Sitting here and waiting for people to show up may have worked 50 years ago; it will not work now. We are no longer the standing church. The upwardly mobile no longer come here looking to rub elbows with Wauwatosa’s upper crust. And thank God. Because I’ve been here a little over two years now, and when I look out into the pews today, I don’t see a bunch of country club church goers, hoping to fit in. I see passionate people who are here because they want to be; not because it’s socially acceptable, but because they’ve experienced something they want desperately to share, especially with their children and their grandchildren. But not stopping there, just starting there.

So what’s the first step? Our text from Hebrews says to hold tightly to our hope. Our hope in God, through Jesus Christ. And to act and speak in ways to build up and affirm others. And to keep meeting together. To go where the people are. If they’re on the net, get online. If they’re in the pub, have a drink. If they’re in the gutter, then don’t you dare walk by on the other side. No matter what we do or how we do it; whether we talk to someone, looking them in the eye over a cup of coffee, or sign into a voicechat server that connects London to California, we all have one great ability: to reflect the light that is God’s love all throughout this beautiful, broken world. Christ did not sit up in heaven and wait for us to arrive. He stepped outside himself and became one of us. Go and do likewise.

Contributors:
Mark Baird
Kevin Brink
Rev. Robert Brink
Martine Haglund
Jason Hanson
Rev. Rick Hartley
Arun Krishnan
Ruhama Kordatzky Bahr
Jason LeClare
Rev. Randy Lubbers
Rev. Sarah McQueen
Mario Morales
Ryan Morgan
Mary Pruitt Martinez
Jordan Propst
Stephen Quadro
Ellen Restyanszki
Dave Settle
Leslie Shultz
Carol Taylor
Christy Tucker
Carol Taylor
Rev. Jeremy Wood

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Jesus is My Facebook Friend is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
Based on a work at revsmilez.com.

September 28, 2008 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons | , , , , , | 4 Comments

Open Source Sermon Launch

Thank you to everyone who shared ideas and suggested texts for the world’s first open source sermon. It’s so cool to watch the ideas come together. Your depth of thought and respect for each other give me hope that this experiment will produce something worth preaching.

Here’s the full list of texts you all suggested: Romans 12:3-8, Hebrews 10:25, Matthew 28:16-20, 1 Corinthians 12:12-31, 1 Corinthians 9:22, Ephesians 4:1-16, Acts 2, 2 Cor 5:9-10, Luke 7:31-35

Based on your comments and the principles of the project, I’ve chosen two. Not that we’re limited to these texts, but these are foundational. I keep hoping that someone will add insight from other faith traditions or schools of philosophy, but there’s plenty of time for that as we continue to piece this thing together.

And the winners are….

Now comes the really fun stuff. Go to the Open Source Sermon wiki and start writing! (What’s a wiki?) The first thing you’ll notice is that I’ve locked the sermon workspace and created a “start here” link asking us to define our purpose. No sense trying to collaborate if half of us want to build a hot rod and the other half want to build an eco-cruiser. Once the purpose is clear, we’ll crack the workspace and then it’s edit, edit, edit, straight through to the deadline, Sept 20.

I’ll lock the wiki at noon, Central Standard Time (GMT-6) and present the result to my senior minister. That’s when we find out if this experiment is a success. Can the net produce a preachable sermon? I seriously don’t know. But it’s going to be a blast finding out.

Here’s our beautiful new wiki!

August 26, 2008 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons | , , | 1 Comment

Open Source Sermon

Logo courtesy of Steve Knight

Logo courtesy of Steve Knight

Greetings denizens of the internet. My name is Rob and I’m performing an experiment. Can the collective intelligence of the net produce a preachable sermon? Maybe the digital age is incompatible with such an ancient format. Then again, maybe the lurker will join hands with the hacker and usher in an age of peace and enlightenment. Maybe I’m just lazy and want some free content and editing.

Here’s the rundown.

  • Project: Craft the world’s first open-source sermon.
  • Deadline: Sept. 28th.
  • Principles: Biblically based, Christocentric. (not that all contributors must be, only that the final product must be)

The Process:

  1. Select a topic: Anyone may suggest sermon topics in a comment to this post. Please submit as often you like and comment on other’s suggestions. I’ll choose the winner with consideration both to the principles of the project and the general consensus of contributors. Deadline Aug 9, Noon, Central Standard Time (GMT-6).
  2. Select a text: I’ll post the topic, and perhaps some initial thoughts, and we’ll open up the comments for suggestions. This time we’ll be searching for Biblical and non-biblical texts that speak insightfully to the topic. I’ll choose a primary Biblical text, and perhaps some secondary ones (Biblical or otherwise) using the same criteria as before. Deadline Aug 23.
  3. Write and Edit: I’m thinking a wiki is the best option for this step. I’ll post a link here, and then it’s off to the races. The only promise I can make is that your edits will be edited, by me and by others. If you want credit for your contribution, add your name (real names only, please) to the bottom of the document. Deadline is Sept. 20 when I will close the wiki to public edits. I will then present the final result to my senior minister (a former rhetoric and homiletics instructor). If he agrees the sermon is worthy of the pulpit, then the experiment is a success and we move to the next step. If not, I’ve still got a week to write something from scratch.
  4. Final edit and polish: I’ll take the last week to add finishing touches, modify phrasing to fit my style, and of course practice. Deadline Sept. 28, 9:45 A.M.
  5. Preach: All contributors will be recognized from the pulpit or in the bulletin. Everyone is of course invited to come listen live. Sept. 28, 10:00 A.M.
  6. Distribute: We’ll put the sermon text, audio, and video up on this blog under a non-commercial, share-alike Creative Commons license.

Thanks to Idan for the pointing me in a cool new direction!

August 7, 2008 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons | , | 29 Comments

Up and Out

Audio here

Title: Up and Out (Confirmation Sunday - shared sermon)
Texts: Acts 1:1-11, Luke 24:44-53
Date: May 4, 2008

UP – Rev. Robert J. Brink
There are three moments in the story of Jesus that we might label, “thin places.” Places where the physical world, and the spiritual world seem for a moment to touch. The first is his baptism, when the spirit descends in the form of a dove, and a voice calls from heaven, “This is my son, in whom I am well pleased.” The second is the transfiguration, where Jesus shines like the sun and again a voice calls out from heaven, “This is my son, listen to him.” The third thin place is the ascension, when Jesus gives his great commission to his disciples, promises to send them the Holy Spirit, and then ascends to the right hand of the Father.

What are we to make of this story? It’s not very appealing. There are no masterful teaching moments, no confrontations. He just goes away. If he had stayed with them forever, that would have made a better story, but he doesn’t. If he had gone away and sent the Spirit at the same moment, that would have made for a better story, but he doesn’t. He makes them wait, without him, in Jerusalem. They have to wait until Pentecost before the Spirit comes. And in the meantime, where is he? Off with God somewhere, unreachable.

At least that’s what I always thought. Then I went to seminary and learned something interesting. When Jesus ascended into heaven, he wasn’t leaving his humanity behind. He was bringing it along. So now some piece of us, some part of who we are is united with the very heart of God. It’s not as if he got up there, and said “Phew, I’m glad that’s over, now to get back to this whole eternal perfection thing.” The change Jesus made goes much deeper than that, so that for all eternity, there is a piece of God that identifies with us completely, that understands us at our best and our worst. And since there is no division within God, that piece is not really a piece at all, but is brought up and in, and united with the whole, so that there is no piece of God that fails to understand, no corner of God that sees us as the enemy.

If all this sounds a bit too big for our heads, that’s because it is. God is too big for our heads, so all that we know of God is what God has revealed. There is no way for us to build a ladder of logic that reaches to the sky, no experiment we could create that would prove it. All these things we accept on faith because there is no other way. That’s not an admission of failure, only a recognition of reality. God is too big for our heads.

God may be too big, but God’s revelation is not. God reveals to us things we could never have figured out for ourselves, things that hurt our brains even to think about, and yet they reveal something of the nature of God. The incarnation that we talked about last week is one of those revelations. This week’s ascension is another. Incarnation teaches us that when we look at Jesus we see God, and ascension teaches us that in some way far beyond our understanding, God has become one with us.

Obviously, that process is not complete. God has accepted us, but we have not accepted God. Imagine a couple that gets married but then doesn’t move in together, doesn’t share a bed, doesn’t share bank accounts, doesn’t even see each other except for an hour on weekends. Sure, they’re married, but they don’t have a marriage.

You confirmands have reached the age where you can make choices for yourselves. The vows you made are similar to marriage vows, except directed toward God instead of another person. You’re old enough to know what you’re saying. It will take a lifetime to figure out what you mean, of course, but you’re mature enough to begin. The question is, what kind of marriage will it be? Will you be married in word alone, or will you share a life together?

We’ve all received God’s love, but has it changed the way we live? He ascended so that we could be one with God, and someday he will descend again. We will come face to face with God. And for some of us it will be like coming home again, like remembering a cherished memory long forgotten, like putting on a glove you’ve worn so long it feels like a second skin. It will be the fulfillment of all we have longed for and worked for and hoped for.

But for others, it will be like cold water on the face, like a cloying smell, like ringing in the ears. It will be the unavoidable confrontation with the one we have worked so long and so hard to avoid. This is judgment, not a gavel and a man in a black robe making decisions. Judgment is revelation. Do not fear hell. Fear living your life in such a way that hell would be preferable to living with God.

Our world is full of thin places. Today one of them. It is a chance for us to ascend into the presence of God, to experience a fraction of what will be when we are at last reunited with our creator. You have been chosen. Rise and be loved.

OUT – Rev. Steven A. Peay, Ph.D.
Jesus had been with them as Luke tells us, “he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God.” All through his ministry Jesus focused on the kingdom of God, which he preached was “at hand.” The problem was that those listening to him couldn’t get away from the notion that a “kingdom” or “reign” was a place. Jesus was revealing, in himself, that it was not a place, but a person – himself. The kingdom of God was among them and they couldn’t get it. Even after the resurrection and the forty days together they asked, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” Rob’s sermon title from last Sunday would work again here, “you just don’t get it.”

So, he reminds them again that what is important is for them to wait for the coming, in fullness, of the Spirit he has promised. He tells them, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witness in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” There’s the point – Jesus goes UP and now we are sent OUT. The kingdom is now within us and we are to be witnesses to that kingdom right here and right now.

This is what Augustine preached to his folks in the early days of the church:
“Today our Lord Jesus Christ ascended into heaven; let our hearts ascend with him. Listen to the words of the Apostle: ‘If then you were raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is in earth.’ For just as he remained with us even after his ascension, so too we are already in heaven with him, even though what is promised us had not yet been fulfilled in our bodies.
Christ is now exalted above the heavens, but he still suffers on earth all the pain that we, the members of his body, have to bear. He showed this when he cried out from above, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’ and when he said: ‘I was hungry and you gave me food.’

Why do we here on earth not strive to find rest with him in heaven even now, by way of faith, hope, and love that unites us to him? While in heaven he is also with us; and we, though on earth, are with him. He is here with us by his divinity, his power, and his love. We cannot be in heaven, as he is on earth, by divinity, but in him, we can be there by love.” [Sermon for Ascension Day, quoted in Days of the Lord, vol. 3, p. 223-4]

So, we are already one with the Lord, joined by love, and now we are to go out to be his witnesses. We begin close to home and then move out more and more. Our outreach here at First Church needs a bit of work. We’re doing ok with the “uttermost parts of the earth,” but it’s the close to home we have to work on. Let’s be honest – when is the last time you spoke favorably about your church to a friend, co-worker or neighbor? When is the last time you invited someone to attend a worship service here with you? Study after study clearly shows that it is you (and I normally don’t like to do that) the folks in the pews, who are the most effective in getting people to come to church. Eighty-five percent plus of folks who are involved in a church are because a friend or neighbor invited them to come. That’s the point of being the Lord’s witness.

Witness isn’t just by words, but by deeds. How we live our lives makes a huge statement about who we are and Whose we are. Even how we leave this building, leave the parking lot makes a difference. I like what one of our neighboring churches has as you leave the parking lot – now you are entering the mission field. That’s the point of OUT – we are to take the message of love, hope, peace and community we have received and share it.

I like what my old New Testament professor from Saint Meinrad Seminary, Bernard Brandon Scott, says about the angels’ question there in Acts. “The angels are asking ‘Why are you hanging around here? Get on with it.’ Just as Jesus offered no hint as to when Israel would be redeemed, so the angels offer no hint as to when Jesus will return. Our goal is to be witnesses, not to speculate about the signs of the future.” [New Proclamation Commentary Year B – Easter through Pentecost, p. 63] I don’t know if I can make it any plainer than that. Our faith tells us that God is looking for us and for relationship with us. Perhaps we should just “get on with it” and then witness to it?

As we have opened the Word, soon we will share the bread and the cup. The goal of both is to give us food for the journey out. Our mission is to go out from here and make a difference in the lives of people, in the life of this world in which we live. Jesus goes up, sends us the Spirit and sends us out. Our task is to go in peace and be his witnesses. I pray that we get it, realize that the kingdom is in us, and go live like it – out beyond these walls, as we used to say, “in front of God and everybody.” It’s our mission as Christ-followers: UP and OUT.

May 5, 2008 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons, The Third Way | , , , , , , , , , , , , | No Comments

You Just Don’t Get It

Video (with sound) here.
Audio alone here. Please forgive the random tone quality changes in the recording. We were experiencing microphone difficulties.

Title: You Just Don’t Get It
Texts: 1 Cor. 9:19-22, Acts 17:22-31
Date: April 27, 2008

I love being a dad. Right now, being a dad means being the second coolest person on the planet. Mom comes first, of course, but that doesn’t bother me a bit because she deserves it. When they come running toward me, arms outstretched, it’s the greatest thing the world. Fortunately, I’ve worked with young people long enough to know I better enjoy it now. Because sooner than I can blink they’ll turn thirteen, when I will change from second coolest person on the planet, to stupidest human being on the face of the earth.

It’s not their fault. Parents just don’t understand. My Grandpa didn’t get the Beatles, and my Dad didn’t get Metallica, and I surely don’t get Justin Timberlake. It’s just how the world works. The silver lining is that somewhere around or after the college years, parents’ stock starts to rise. Slowly they begin to look less and less like lumbering idiots, until one day, if you’re lucky, a little light goes on and you say, “Wow, they’re human beings. And they’re kind of smart in their own way. Who knew?”

Unfortunately, the same process doesn’t apply in the realms of politics and religion. Why bother to have a discussion when you can play gotcha? The political end of this as shown by the presidential race is so obvious that I won’t bore you with it, but religion is no better. Religious radio makes a pile of cash year in and year out with a very simple formula. Take something someone else said, run it out to its absurdest possible conclusion, and then shame them for it.

Even in seminary, it’s not much better. At least there, they make you cite your sources. But that didn’t stop me from setting up a straw man argument or two. Much easier to oversimplify someone else’s work and then knock it down than to reach inside and understand, especially when time is short and your grade is on the line. A straw man paper, well constructed, and submitted on time earns you a moderate grade, but to step inside the mind of another and see the world through their eyes? That could take a lifetime.

“Don’t you understand,” they say, “A woman has a right to choose.” “No you don’t understand,” they respond, “It’s a baby, not a choice.” “Don’t you understand,” they say, “Your evolutionary theory undercuts the foundation of our faith.” “No you don’t understand,” they respond, “Your blind faith undercuts all science.” “Don’t you understand I’m trying to save you from hell?” “No, you don’t understand that your aggressive questions and arguments make me feel like I’m there already.” And round and round it goes.

You even find it in scripture, especially the Old Testament, when the poets weep and the prophets shake their fists at the sky. “Where are you, God? How long must we endure? Why do you not answer your people? Do you not see what they do to us? Do you not hear our cries? Do you not understand?” And God replies, “No, you are the one who does not understand. Did you create the world? Can you order its ways?”

The world sits in this uneasy tension, until the coming of Jesus, when God puts on flesh and becomes one of us. The theological word is incarnation, fully God and fully man, without confusion, change, division, or separation. In practical terms it means two things. 1. God fully understands what it is to be human. 2. When we look at Jesus we see God as God really is. But those are just ideas. How does play out in real life?

If we follow Jesus, then we become incarnational too. As God entered into our life, so we enter into the lives of others. This is what Paul was talking about when he said, “To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews… To the gentiles I became like gentile to win the gentiles… I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some.” Paul entered into the lives of the people he served, connected with them, and spoke their language.

His speech from the book of Acts shows this clearly. He’s a Jewish scholar, and those writings that have come down to us are full of references to the Hebrew scriptures. But in this speech before the Greek intelligentsia, he abandons all of that and chooses instead to open with a comment on their polytheism. If this were religious radio, he’d be blasting away with both barrels, telling them in no uncertain terms that those who worship false gods are destined for a fiery end, but he doesn’t do any of that.

He says, “I can see by your many statues that you are very religious. So religious that you even put up a statue to the unknown God, just to make sure all your bases are covered. Let me tell you what I know of that unknown God.” And then he proceeds to quote their own songs and poets to them, showing them how their own culture and beliefs point toward a God bigger than a mere idol. Thousands of years of Hebrew scripture, culture, and history, the story of the chosen people of God and he doesn’t mention a second of it. He puts himself aside and becomes for a moment, one of them, to reach them on their own terms. If he were speaking today he’d be quoting Justin Timberlake and Rhianna!

But just because he puts himself aside for their sake doesn’t mean he puts Christ aside too. We live in a world of political correctness. And you graduates are heading off to college are going to be in the very heart of it. Political correctness that says you can believe whatever you want as long as you keep it to yourself. That’s not what Paul did, and that’s not what Jesus did either.

Jesus did not become incarnate and then “go native”. He didn’t try to fit in, didn’t abandon his calling. What makes him so compelling is how completely centered he is in within himself and his purpose. He exists to do his Father’s will, and the rest of the world can either help him or kill him, but that’s what he’s going to do.

For generations, philosophers talked about the unbridgeable chasm between God and humanity. God is so holy, perfect, and pure that he could never come down into the dirt and the mire. It would be beneath his dignity to dirty himself by entering our world.

But Jesus showed us exactly the opposite. There is nothing that God will not stoop to. There is nothing below his dignity, if doing it might heal us. And in becoming one of us, God does not become broken. We become whole. It’s as if he jumped into a cesspool and instead of getting dirty, his presence transformed the cesspool into a spring. No amount of evil could overcome his goodness. No amount of darkness could put out his light. Everywhere Jesus went, things around him began to become what they were always mean to be… whole.

Want to heal the world? Start listening. Build relationships. Learn to speak their language. See the world through their eyes. Then, when the time finally comes to speak, you will have words they can hear, ideas that resonate. Not only that, I guarantee you will learn something new from them about the God you claim to follow. If you listen, they will teach you about God.

April 29, 2008 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons, The Third Way | , , , , | 1 Comment

God Makes Dead Bones Dance

Date: March 9, 2008
Text: Ezekiel 37:1-10; John 11:1-6; 17-45
Title: God Makes Dead Bones Dance (audio)

Lent is a great time to talk about death. We’re walking week-by-week closer to the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Many of us have been struggling throughout lent to give something up, which is a small kind of death, a death to self. It’s good that lent only comes once a year because it’s hard to talk about death. It is also good that lent comes each year whether we like it or not, because death is something we need to talk about.

We live in a culture that minimizes death and idolizes youth. Death to self? We’d much rather talk about self-esteem, self-awareness, and self-actualization than self-denial. We distract ourselves from the world’s suffering with fancy toys. We distract ourselves from our own brokenness with frenetic activity. We need to stop at least once a year and try to see things as they really are.

We have a church without martyrs, a world without justice, and wars without end. These are easy to get excited about, obvious. Preachers stand up and say, “It’s a sin and a shame. We sit here in luxury while others starve.” And everyone nods their heads and agrees that it’s a horrible shame and a tragedy and we should all feel rotten for enjoying the privilege of being born American.

That’s the goal right? To make people feel ashamed? If everyone feels guilty, they’ll want to be forgiven, they’ll seek out a priest. This is the trap we call religion. Religions set themselves up as mediators between God and humanity. They claim a monopoly on forgiveness. So, it’s in their best interest to make you feel guilty. That’s what keeps you coming back.

You feel good while you’re here and then you walk out the door and it’s not five minutes but you’ve done something wrong again. And the wrongs just keep piling up until you can get back to church again on Sunday and get forgiven.

That’s the easy way. You just make people feel vaguely guilty and you offer them vague forgiveness, and send them on their way. Or you could go with the even easier way. You make people feel really guilty once and then promise them forgiveness forever.

Just pray the prayer written on the back of this tract and you’ll go to heaven. If you’ve ever committed the tiniest of sins, ever stretched the truth, ever had a sexual thought about someone who is not currently your spouse, ever failed to do something good when it was in your power to do it, then you’re a sinner worthy of the flames of hell. Better pray that prayer quick because you might die at any moment. You might die while you’re sitting right there in that pew, and if you haven’t prayed the prayer then you’re going to experience eternal conscious torment. All you have to do is pray the prayer.

See how easy that is? But there’s still a catch. What if you didn’t pray well enough? What if you prayed, but then you forgot? What it you prayed it and you meant it, but then you changed your mind. Do you have to pray again? Once you claim your get out of hell free card, is it possible to lose it? Uh oh. I’d better go to church. It’s the religion trap all over again, only I don’t have to make you feel guilty every week; you feel guilty constantly all by yourself!

I’m not here to make you feel guilty. I’m not here to offer forgiveness. Forgiveness is already offered, without limit, without price tag. I’m in no position to barter between you and God. God has come to earth and eliminated the middle man. I’m here to say that this is the place where it’s ok to tell the truth… about what’s going on in the world, about what’s going on in our lives.

So let’s tell the truth for a minute. Half the world really does live on two dollars a day or less. But asking God’s forgiveness for children starving in Africa is like political campaigners spouting vague platitudes. “I’m a candidate for change. I want children to get a good education.” Wow. What a revelation. Just once I’d like to see a campaign ad that said, “Reading. Who needs it?” “A vote for me is a vote for stupidity.”

I hope we all agree that’s just a little bit ludicrous. So just for a few moments, lets stop beating ourselves up over the fact that we happened to be born American and some other folks weren’t. If we’re going to look for problems to solve, then lets look closer to home.

What’s the most common problem in our church? People are too busy. I didn’t say it’s our worst problem. We’ve got our share of baggage, just like everyone else. But our most common, most visible problem is we are horribly overbooked. We are running ourselves ragged. We feel disconnected from our friends and families, especially our families.

Can I bring you a message from your kids? If you gave them a choice between increasing your net worth by ten thousand dollars and having you home more, they would pick you. Unless you’re a jerk of course, then they’d take the money.

Too many of us are disconnected, stretched thin, dried out, scattered around like a bunch of dry bones. We’ve all got places in our lives that feel dead. And sooner or later, we’re all going to be dead.

But we don’t talk about it. Wouldn’t be polite. We just pretend everything is ok. Which is why so many of our young people cut themselves. They know the world is messed up, they know that they are at least in some way complicit, and they know they’re not supposed to talk about it. Especially if that brokenness extends into their own home. They’re job is to smile and get good grades so they can get a good job and afford the kind of life they’ve become accustomed to. So they take all those negative feelings and they stuff them until they go numb, until pain feels better than feeling nothing at all.

Death is the inescapable truth of the world we know, the world we live in every day. But our readings claim that death is no longer the supreme constant. It has been overthrown. Ezekiel and John both watch, jaws agape, as God reverses the flow of human events, repeals the second law of thermodynamics, and returns life to that which had lapsed into nothingness.

That’s the Bible in a nutshell: God created the world, but it became broken and began to fade, and now God is restoring it. God is pulling the scattered bones together, building connections, adding muscle, uniting us into a body. God breathes new life into us. At least that’s the plan. We still have a choice. We can collaborate in this work, or we can fight it.

Jesus stands at the tomb of Lazarus, orders them to roll the stone away, and calls out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth!” Then silence as everyone holds their breath, wanting to believe, hoping it could be true. The silence stretches on for what seems like an eternity. And so Jesus calls again, “Lazarus, come forth!” Again silence. And a tiny voice calls out, “No thank you. Nobody here but us dead people. Nothing to see here. Move along. Don’t forget to roll the stone back on the way out.”

The church is not a building. The church is not an institution. The church is you and me being transformed into light and life and love. It’s not enough that we come together. It’s not enough that we move with purpose. God breathes the Spirit into us. And if we will only allow it, that Spirit will transform our lives from the inside out.

If we can accept that we are already forgiven, already loved, already alive, then we can stop hiding in tombs and join the celebration. We can watch as God changes our lives and our priorities. Perhaps we can learn to slow down, enjoy our lives, enjoy the young people. Perhaps we will see less war and less poverty. But changes like that only begin here, between hearts brave enough to be honest, and humble enough to be healed. May God make it so in us today.

March 9, 2008 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons, The Third Way | , , , , , , , , , , | No Comments

Zombies!

Photo Courtesy of Scott Beale / Laughing Squid

Photo Courtesy of Scott Beale / Laughing Squid

Have you ever seen a zombie movie?  By show of hands, how many of you have ever seen a zombie movie?  They’re very popular.  Video games, books, movies.  zombies all over.  But, some of you look confused.  You’re thinking, “What in the world does this have to do with church?!  Did you honestly wake me up on my day off to come out here and talk about zombies?!”  Yes, yes I did.  I’m here to get the word out, to issue a warning.  There are zombies all over the place.   Looking around, I even see a few showed up for church today.  Erin, what time did you and Tyson get up this morning to drop off papers?  So the two of you have been awake since midnight?  See?  Zombies!  They’re everywhere!

How many of you know someone who just staggers though life?  Get up, go to work, go home, watch TV, go to bed, get up, go to work, go home, watch TV, go to bed.  Anybody?  How many know someone who just gave up?  Life knocked them down one too many times, and they just quit getting back up again?  How many know someone so committed, so invested in their work that they have no life outside of their job?  How many know someone whose life revolves around the next game, the next high, the next party, the next relationship, the next whatever.  But it’s always the next one; it never lasts.  You know anybody like that?

The Bible says that when God created us, it was good!  We weren’t meant to live messed up lives in a messed up world.  Look at Genesis.  Genesis chapter 2, verses 15 through 17.  It’s on page 4 if you’re reading along in the pew Bibles.  Starting at verse 15, “The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.  And the LORD God commanded the man, ‘You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die.’”

You know what happened next.  The snake talks Eve into eating the fruit; Eve talks Adam into eating it too.  And here’s the strange thing.  They didn’t die!  God said, “When you eat of it, you will surely die.”  And they ate it, and walked away just fine.  Is God a liar, then?  Did God make a mistake?  I don’t think so.  Remember the rest of the story.

They hid from God, they covered their bodies, they blamed each other, and instead of living in a garden, they had to work the land, which produced thorns just as often as it produced fruit.  Sure they could walk and talk, but they were already dead.  Their relationships with God, with each other, with themselves, and with nature were all broken.  They were the first of a new race of zombies, physically alive and spiritually dead, and we are their children.

We stagger through life eating till we’re stuffed and feeling empty, drinking socially and feeling alone, giving ourselves to people who give us nothing in return, working jobs that do not matter, for bosses we don’t like, with co-workers who annoy us, so we can make money, to buy a home that’s never big enough, a car that’s never fast enough, and a life that’s never good enough.  We’re zombies!  Always consuming, never full.  Always pursuing, never at rest.  We’re physically alive and spiritually dead.

If you’ve watched a lot of zombie movies, you know zombies are not all the same.  The longer they’ve been dead, the more they decay; that’s part of the terrifying fun of the movie.  In zombie culture, you can never be smart and you can never be pretty.  The best you can hope for is to stink a little less than the next guy.

We’re no different.  Even our greatest heroes had faults.  I’d list some messed up people from the Bible, but that would be way too easy and we’d be here all day.  So lets talk about more recent heroes.  Martin Luther King, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, St. Francis.  If you approached any one of these people and asked them if they struggled with guilt, shame, fear, temptation, pride, and envy they all would have said yes.  They’re zombies just like us, just prettier ones who have allowed a little less decay into their lives, all the same, all except one.

There is no stench of decay about him.  Read the book, and you will see that everywhere he goes the sick are healed, the hungry are fed, the lost are found, the broken restored, the sinners forgiven, the outcasts welcomed, and the dead raised.  And then in the last week of his life, everything changed.

The man who calmed a thunderstorm with his voice stood mute before his attackers.  The man who walked untouched through a violent mob allowed himself to be bound and beaten.  The man whose eloquence silenced the critics chose to offer no defense against their lies.  The only innocent man who ever lived allowed himself to be condemned.  Then he opened his arms, and died.

Why?  Why did Jesus choose to die?  Scripture says he did it for us.  The son of God, agent of creation, looked down on the world he had made, once so full of life and joy and hope, and saw nothing but zombies destroying the earth he had made for us, abusing the animals he had given us, using each other like so much garbage, never truly at rest.  No joy.  No hope.  No peace.  Only decay and death.  And saw it, and he cried.

Then he did the thing that no one expected, that no one would have guessed, not in a million years.  He became one of us.  He experienced it all.  And rather than being infected by it, he became a walking cure.  So he walked straight into the heart of the problem, submitted even to death itself, and for three days it looked like death had won.  But even death itself could not contain him.  He walked out of that tomb, the first of the truly living dead.

Does that mean Jesus was a zombie?  No.  He is the exact opposite of us.  He was physically dead and spiritually alive.  We’re physically alive and spiritually dead: out of touch with God, with ourselves, with each other, and with nature.  Now he lives, and offers his life to us.  And guess what we have to do to receive it.  Anyone?  We have to die.  No, not physically.  We’re not some cult here.  No one’s handing out bad kool-aid.  We have to spiritually die to our old selves, be buried with him in baptism, and rise with him into new life.  We have to kill the zombie to become the living dead.

But if you’ve watched any zombie movies at all, you know one thing for sure.  Zombies are notoriously difficult to kill!  Shoot them with a gun.  “Braaaaains.”  Stab them with a knife “Braaaaains.”  Now, if you haven’t guessed, I’ve seen my share of zombie movies, so I’m going to give you a crash course on how to survive a zombie outbreak.  Step one: grab yourself a baseball bat.  Step two: tie on those running shoes and use them often.  Step three: surround yourself with a small group of friends who can watch your back.  Step four: always be on your guard, because at some point you know one of your friends is going to turn into a zombie and try and eat your brains.  And finally, step five: keep fighting until the end, because help is coming soon.

Let me unpack that for you.  Step one:  (hold up Bible)  This is your bat.  When you feel that old zombie clawing its way back into your heart, you beat it back with the word of God.  Expert zombie fighters memorize their scripture, so that it’s always close at hand when they’re in trouble.

Step two: Your running shoes.  If you try to overcome your inner zombie by force of will alone, you will lose.  The Bible says we are to flee from temptation, not dance with it.  Keeping temptation in your life is like keeping a zombie locked in the basement.  You just know he’s going to get out, probably at the worst possible time.  So run!  Whatever people, places, or patterns drag you back into your old life, get rid of them.

Step three: Gather a small group of people you can trust.  Why?  Because you can’t fight all the time!  Zombies don’t need to eat, sleep, and laugh.  You do!  That doesn’t mean you’re weak; it means you’re human.  This is not a Rambo movie.  You do not have the moves of Jackie Chan, the speed of Bruce Lee, or the muscles of Vin Diesel.  This is a zombie movie, and the loners are always the first to fall.  Two friends are better than one.  Three are better than two.  Anything over 12 and you’re just asking for trouble, though.  See step four.

Which is?  Always be on your guard because sooner or later, when you least expect it, one of your friends is going to become a zombie and try to eat your brains.  The good news is: there’s a chance they’ll get better.  So defend yourself if they attack you, run away if they tempt you, help them if they’ll let you, and check back on them once in a while and see how they’re doing.  If they’re back to their old selves, welcome them into your circle again.  Why?  Because, they’ll try and do the same for you.

This brings us to the last rule.  Fight to the end because help is on the way.  In the movies, this generally means the army, but in this case, it’s the promise of God.  God does not leave us alone to fight this fight forever.  God promises that his Spirit will live in us, strengthening us for the battle.  God also promises that the end of the fight is coming soon.  Either our bodies will wear out, or Christ will return.  Whichever comes first, our battle will be over, and we will have our rest.

“Rest in peace.”  These are the words we speak over the graves of our friends.  “Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.”  If you haven’t figured it out yet, I preached this sermon for our teens.  I asked them what they wanted to hear about, and they said, “Preach a sermon on death.”  I hope that they found it both entertaining and enlightening.  But supposing they found it long and boring, let me sum it up and we’ll be done.  There are three kinds of death: those who walk the earth and do not know they are dead, those who die to their old selves daily and find true life in Christ, and those who rest from the battle.  The foolish fear the last most of all, the wise fear the first.  Be wise.

Benediction: I did not come here today to glorify death.  The opposite of a miserable life is not death; it is new life in Christ.  If your life is hard, don’t run from it; run to the One who bested it.  Go with God.

Opening Hymn: I’ll Fly Away
Contemporary Hymn: Soon and Very Soon
Scripture reading: John 11:17-44
Closing Hymn: When the Roll is Called Up Yonder

August 15, 2006 Posted by revsmilez | Sermons | , , | 4 Comments