Q: Any advice for kids going back to school?
A: Be yourself. Most people spend huge chunks of their life trying to be the kind of people they think the kind of people that they want to be with would want to be with.

Q: Huh?
A: Exactly.

Q: So what would you suggest instead?
A: Decide ahead of time that you can’t please everyone, and then be very careful about who you choose as friends. We all have a built-in need to fit in, but we also have the God-given ability to choose where. What you’re looking for is a small, trust-worthy crew, the kind of people who will tell you off, and then stick up for you two minutes later. Their opinion matters. Everyone else, you take with a grain of salt. Keep what’s helpful. Ignore the rest.

Q: What about my parents?
A: What about them? They’re not going to be in school with you. This is your first taste of the real world. Your parents will always love you, cheer for you, and be there for you as much as they’re able, but more and more they’re going to step back, not because they want to, but because they have to if you’re ever going to stand on your own. Love on them and learn everything you can from them, but in school, you need a crew.

Q: How do I find friends like that?
A: You start by being one.

If Americans wrote this story today, it might go like this: Once upon a time God got up at the crack of dawn and called for workers. Everyone who was too lazy to get out of bed got nothing, and the people who worked all day got paid. First, God paid everyone by the hour, but some people complained because they had worked harder. Then God paid them by calories burned, but some people complained because they worked more efficiently. Then God paid them according to the number of leaves pruned, but some people complained because their tree didn’t have as many leaves. And they’re still there to this day, arguing with God over who deserves exactly how much pay. Because the important thing isn’t so much that I get paid, it’s that everyone else get paid less. The end.”

Rev. Doug Gray is the pastor at 2^nd Congregational in Beloit, where I got my start. He has three beautiful kids, and whenever one of his kids says, “That’s not fair!” his answer is always the same. “Fare is what you pay for the bus.” He’s said it so many times that they roll their eyes and finish the phrase for him. God is not fair. And for that, we should be very, very grateful.

This story is a hard one, because Jesus never explains it. He just leaves it there for us to figure out. It starts normally enough, the boss gets up before dawn, and goes down to Home Depot to hire some help. He promises a denarius, which at the time of Jesus, was a standard day’s wage. If the story stopped there, the moral would be clear. God is fair.  Show up early, work hard, and you’ll have a good life.

One Denarius. Original work by Ancient Art. Click the picture for more.

I know… because this church would never have made it 150 years if it weren’t true. It’s what makes any church, but especially a small church, work. And honestly, you don’t get nearly the recognition you deserve. “Thank you” is the only pay we can offer as a church, and sometimes you don’t even get that. So thank you. Thank you for everything you do that no one ever sees. Thank you for giving even when it’s hard. Thank you to the faithful few who show up early and work all day.

But that’s not the end of the story. The landowner goes back down to Home Depot at 9am. The day has already started. They know they don’t deserve a full denarius. Instead, he promises to pay them whatever is fair. The story never says why they were late. Maybe they had a good reason, maybe they just overslept. Either way, it’s still early. There’s still plenty to do. So, off they go.

Maybe this is you. Maybe you didn’t feel comfortable with all those accolades, because you don’t feel you deserve them. You can’t make it to church every Sunday, you don’t have time to sit on a board, or you can’t afford to give. You just do what you can. There are a few here today, but where I run into this the most is around town. I can always tell, because they apologize, even though I’m not yelling.  All I have to do is exist, and people feel guilty. Because they’re not really apologizing to me.

If that’s you, then hear the good news in this story. You are welcome too. God’s kingdom is not just for super-saints. The-people-who-do-what-they-can still get a full day’s wage. There is good work to do here, necessary work that will bear fruit. Don’t let a misplaced sense of guilt stop you from doing what you can. And don’t ever let someone who’s been here longer get between you and God, or the work God has for you.

This is where it gets really interesting. The landowner goes out at noon, at three, and at five. Noon means no matter how fast they get there, they’re already doing less than half a day’s work. And five means they’re doing less than one hour of work before they go home. At this point, the landlord finally asks, ‘Why have you been standing here all day doing nothing?’  And they say, “Because no one hired us.” Which he knows is a lie because he’s was there at 6, at 9, at noon, at 3, and now at 5pm. They don’t have a job because they didn’t show up! But he just says, ‘You also go and work in my vineyard.’

One hour later, the foreman pays them. And the boss specifically says to pay the slackers first. Can’t you just see the early birds getting angrier and angrier? “I worked my tail off all day and I get the same as that schmuck who got up at the crack of noon? My shirt is sopping. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. That’s not fair!  And the boss says, “Fare is what you pay for the bus.”  Ok, not really. He says, “You’re getting exactly what you agreed to. As for the rest, it’s my money! Don’t I have the right to do what I want with my own money? Or are you jealous because I am generous?

The story is really about the landowner. This is someone who values people more than his own time and money. This is someone who sees the need we all have for meaningful work. This is someone who sees the kids who need to eat, even though their dad is a slacker. This is someone who sees past our failures to our potential, who would rather restore than judge. That’s the kind of God we serve.

Or maybe it’s about the ones who showed up late. God is happy to hire us, but we have to show up. You can come at 6, at 9, at noon, at 3, even at 5. But at some point the sun is going to set. We’ve been offered life and purpose, but we still have to accept it. God is happy to pay us more than we deserve, but we still have to do the work.

Those are all true and good, but I think it’s mostly a special message for the early birds, the amazing 20%, the faithful few who do most of the work. You have everything. Everything they lack, you already have. You have drive. You have purpose. Your life has meaning. You have good work and generous wages. Isn’t that enough? When will you finally stop worrying about what everyone else has and enjoy what you have? Why are you letting someone else decide when you get to be happy? Because friends, let’s face it. In our heart of hearts, we all showed up at 5.

First preached at First Congregational Church of Saugatuck on September 18, 2011.

God is Not Fair is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Link to revsmilez.com.

Can we all agree that some things really are evil, but most things are not? So it’s not “How can you forgive the unforgivable?”  The real life question is, “How do we live with each other without strangling each other?”

Look at Peter’s question. He doesn’t ask, “How many times should I forgive Caesar?” He wants to know, “How many times do I have to forgive my brother or sister.” Not Hitler, not Osama. My brother or sister, my spouse, my fellow church member. How many times should I forgive them?  Which of course really means, “As a Christian, what’s the minimum number of times I have to give someone a pass before I can unload on them?”  The rabbis said three. So Peter is really stretching here. He knows Jesus takes this stuff seriously, so Peter takes the usual 3, doubles it, and adds one to get 7, the number of perfection. “How forgiving do we have to be, Jesus?  How about double plus one? That’ll show ‘em.”

And Jesus says what?  Not seven, but seventy times seven. You want to be perfect? Be perfect times perfect. Forgiveness is not a scorecard, it’s a way of life. It’s who you are.  “But that’s ridiculous!  That’s impossible! That’s just plain wrong. What about maniacs, and pedophiles, and terrorists?” Jesus, as usual, tells a story.

We call it the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant.  We ought to call it the two-minute reality check. Most of the time, we’re not facing off with evil incarnate. Most of the time, it’s not about abuse or betrayal. Most of the time we’re upset over the moral equivalent of five bucks.

When you get angry, you body releases Adrenaline and Cortisol. When you’re fighting a bear, that’s awesome. Blood pressure, oxygen, and glucose levels jump. All secondary functions, like high-level rational thought, get shunted. Your senses, strength, and reflexes increase and your thoughts are laser focused on what’s immediately in front of you. You fight the bear, run away, and everything goes back to normal. No problem.

But what if you’re not fighting a bear? What if you get angry 14 times a day? What if you live in a near constant state of anger? Your blood pressure never drops. You can’t sleep, but you feel tired all the time. Your memory starts to slip.  Given enough time you will burn out your internal organs and shorten your life. In one study of almost 13,000 subjects, those with the highest levels of anger were three times more likely to have a heart attack, compared to the subjects with the lowest anger levels.

We need to change our perspective. The primary relationship is not between you and some idiot. The primary relationship is between you and God. Once you get the context right, everything else falls into place. What you believe changes your perspective, and your perspective changes how you treat everyone.

Yes, I said everyone. Even Hitler. Even Osama. Even the person that did that truly evil thing that you are still carrying around with you everywhere you go. Now, don’t get your back up. You still have your get out of guilt free card. I said it, and I meant it. This is not about guilt. I like you people, and forgiveness will help you stick around longer. It will also help you solve your problems better.

You know the most insane part of this entire thing? When we’re mad, we feel like we want to kill somebody, they don’t even know. And if they do know, most of them don’t even care! They’re wrong and they’re fine. We’re right, and we’re killing ourselves! How smart is that? Osama is dead. The 9/11 hijackers are dead. And yet a decade later and we still carry the anger and the fear. Brothers and sisters, they are not worthy of that much power. They are not worthy of that much attention. They are not worthy of that victory.

They wanted you dead, so live. They wanted you paralyzed by fear, so move forward. They wanted you enslaved, so be free. Forgiveness does all of those things. It allows you to step out of your anger, back into the land of rational thought that might actually solve the problem.

I just got attacked by a bear. I don’t want that happening again. What should I do now? Maybe I should get out of its den and stop harassing its cubs. Maybe I should build a fence to keep it out of my house. Maybe I should buy and gun and shoot it.

I have no idea. It’s an imaginary bear! But I do know we will never solve the problem as long as we’re stomping around saying, “I can’t believe that bear attacked me!  That’s not fair. Stupid bear.  I hate bears.”  As long as your anger is running your mind, your rational brain is off.

Our greatest enemy is not evil. It is the shortsightedness, apathy, and despair that stops good people from doing what they can to fix real problems. Do not let anger eat you. Let it motivate you. That’s why God gave it to you.

Your emotions are a compass. They point you in a direction. It completely defeats the purpose of the compass to sit in one spot and stare at it. Osama is an excuse. Hitler is a distraction. Because being angry at things lets us avoid the deeper work we need to do. The person we really have a hard time forgiving is… Yes! It doesn’t matter how powerless or innocent we are. We will find a way to make it our fault.

My husband beats me. Well I guess I shouldn’t have made him mad. My wife belittles me, well I guess I shouldn’t be so stupid. My parents got divorced. I guess I should have been a better kid. Someone I love died and I’m still alive. But it should have been me. How in the world do I forgive myself for that?

Remember the parable? The person we’re shaking down for five dollars is us! We are we holding ourselves to a higher standard than God.  God’s Son walked among us, and his consistent message from word one was, “God loves you.” And when we killed him for telling the truth and being good to people, his last words were “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they do.” Let. It. Go.

Yes, it is hard. Yes, it’s possible. He proved it, and so has every saint through history that followed his example. Forgiveness is a kingdom life skill, and you learn it the same way you learn anything else: by practicing. Change your perspective and practice every day. If you need help getting started, this church is full of people who are willing to annoy you. And the beauty of it is most of them actually mean well, so it’s a great place to begin. Hold onto that card as long as you need it, so you can learn to let it go.

First preached at First Congregational Church of Saugatuck on September 11, 2011.
Text: Matthew 18:21-35

9-11: Still Angry? Here’s Your Get Out of Guilt Free Card is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Link to revsmilez.com.

Don’t you love that? “Be kind to your enemies. It drives them nuts!” Stop apologizing for having feelings! It’s not like God is surprised. If someone is rude or cruel to you, you’re going to feel angry. That’s not evil. That means your sense of justice still works. You’re agreeing with God that there is a right and a wrong. Obviously, doing good maliciously isn’t the height of love, but if that’s where you’re at, it’s a whole lot better than taking revenge, right? Do what you can do.

He told me a story about his grandpa, an honest-to-goodness Canadian Mountie. One day,  Dann and his grandpa were doing the dishes. Dann handed him a fork, and Grandpa said, “Is that as clean as you can make it?” Dann worked on it some more, and said, “That’s as clean as I can make it.” His grandpa dried it and put it away. The next day, they decided they were doing the dishes precisely. When they got done, Grandpa pointed at the clock and said, “See that? It took five extra minutes.” Dann remembered that the rest of his life. Five minutes was the difference between just ok, and outstanding.

Never thought you’d hear your pastor say that, eh? I love the Bible, but some passages are difficult.  I’m not talking about vocabulary. I’m not even talking about the teaching. I’m talking about certain verses that I understand clearly. I just don’t like what they say.

Take today’s reading. Is it just me, or does Jesus seem like a jerk? This lady comes to him for help, and he calls her a dog. First he ignores her. Then he says, “I didn’t come for you people.  I came only for the lost sheep of Israel.” This is not the savior I signed up for.

It is, however, a perfect fit for his times. Rabbis of his day did not associate with foreigners, and especially not women.  If you dig through some older Jewish Orthodox prayer books, you can still find the prayer, “Thank you lord, that you did not make me a non-Jew, that you did not make me a slave, that you did not make me a woman.”  Don’t grumble at me. I didn’t write it!

That’s the culture Jesus lived in. When his enemies wanted to challenge him, they brought him a woman caught in adultery. Last time I checked it takes two, but the Pharisees only brought the woman. When his disciples found Jesus talking with the Samaritan woman at the well, they didn’t say, “Why are you talking to a Samaritan?” They said, “Why are you talking with that woman?” So, if Jesus is being sexist or racist, he’s only acting just like a normal first century rabbi.

When a Roman soldier asked Jesus to heal his son, Jesus talked to him, offered to come to his house, and publicly applauded the man’s faith. But when this woman asks for the same thing, he gives her a hard time. It doesn’t make sense! Or maybe it does, and I just don’t like it.

Our other text today offers a possible solution. How many of you have seen the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?  Exactly, you know the story. This is right at the end, when Joseph finally meets his brothers, only now they’re starving and he’s the prince of Egypt.

Joseph says, “Don’t be distressed or angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you… So then, it was not you who sent me here, but God.” Betrayed, beaten, sold as a slave, falsely accused, thrown in jail, and now he says, “It was not you who sent me here, but God.”

You heard me tell the kids that this story is about you controlling you. You can’t control what happens, but you can control how you react.  That’s true. It’s powerful advice, which is why you’ll hear it from self-help gurus and motivational speakers.  If that’s all you hear today, it will do you good.  But there’s more.

Is Joseph really the hero of the story?  Yeah, he’s clearly the protagonist who succeeds against all odds. But let’s reframe the question. Does Joseph secure his own victory? No. The unseen hand of God guides the entire story, planting the seed of victory in the very first chapter, when he gives Joseph prophetic dreams and the ability to interpret. It was the dreams that catapulted Joseph from the prison floor to the throne room.

This is going to sound strange, but I think it’s true. Joseph doesn’t win. He repeatedly avoids defeat.  This story could have ended horribly at any time if Joseph had just given up.  All he had to do was quit working so hard, quit trying to be good, quit dreaming, or quit living.  The whole world was against him. It would have been so easy to quit. Defeat was always completely within his reach. He just didn’t accept it. How did he do it?

How did the martyrs hold on to their faith?  How did the saints of old succeed when so many others failed? It’s about identity. If you haven’t heard of Henri Nouwen, look him up. He’s an amazing writer, one of the greats of our time. He has this to say about identity:

“Over the years, I have come to realize that the greatest trap in our life is not success, popularity, or power, but self-rejection…When we have come to believe in the voices that call us worthless and unlovable, then success, popularity, and power are easily perceived as attractive solutions. The real trap, however, is self-rejection. As soon as someone accuses me or criticizes me, as soon as I am rejected, left alone, or abandoned, I find myself thinking, “Well, that proves once again that I am a nobody.” … [My dark side says,] I am no good… I deserve to be pushed aside, forgotten, rejected, and abandoned. Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the “Beloved.” Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence.”

Brennan Manning says: “Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion.”  As a pastor it is tempting to me, to try to convince to you center your identity in the church.  Obviously, there’s some self-serving going on there. But it’s a strong temptation specifically because it does you good too. It does us all good.

Imagine we’re all over in London right now, and there are rioters running through our neighborhoods stealing what’s valuable and burning what’s not.  Who do you think is going to do better?  The person who is out there alone, or the one whose identity is grounded in a committed group?

We don’t have to wonder. We already know. London’s Green Street is a high-end shopping district. Over 200 retail showrooms including jewelry stores. Sounds like a prime target, right?  Nope.  Because hundreds of Asians, the friends and family of local shop owners, stood together and sent those looters running.  On Kingsland High Street, it was the Turkish community standing strong. You might have heard about the three men that got run down by a car in Birmingham? Their neighbors called them heroes for defending their neighborhood. They were Pakistani.

Are you sensing a pattern here? Identity beats chaos. Random anger can cause a lot of damage, but tight-knit community pulls people through. It’s the moral of every great sports movie. Random individuals become a team. They work through their hang-ups, learn to rely on each other, and succeed against all odds. Together, we are building something to survive whatever may come.

As beautiful as that is, it is not the goal.  Remember, “Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion.” Which may be the solution to our very first problem. Is it possible that this woman knows exactly who Jesus is? Is it possible that her identity is secure enough that there is even room for laughter? She asks for help, and he pretends to be just like any other rabbi. But she doesn’t quit. His disciples try to send her away, but she doesn’t quit. Jesus says “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.” And she contradicts him! “Yes it is! Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Jesus just got done teaching “his people” about real faith that comes from the heart, and his holy people rejected his teaching. Well, if the kids are too stuck up to eat the meal, what do you do? Give it to the dogs! She takes the racial slur and turns it into a badge of honor because her identity is not grounded in what anyone else thinks. Her value is not lessened by what anyone else says. She can face what comes because while everyone else was arguing, she was listening.

So when the rabbi ignores her, she is brave to approach. When the disciples shoo her away, she is undaunted. When he spouts the usual tripe about Jews and Gentiles, she calls him on it, because her identity is rooted in the radical, relentless love of God. And at that moment, her daughter was healed.

First preached at First Congregational Church of Saugatuck on August 14, 2011.
Texts: Matthew 15:10-28

You Control You: Identity and Victory is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Link to revsmilez.com.

Jesus sends his disciples ahead of him. He tells them to cross the sea. They called it a sea. We’d call it a lake. 13 miles long. 8 miles wide. But here it is, night, and they’re only halfway to the other side. A storm came up, and the wind is right in their face. Their master said to cross, so they don’t quit. They row all night long, and now the dawn is about to break and here comes Jesus walking to them across the water. They’re wet. They’re exhausted. They’re frustrated. This is just the last straw. They cannot believe what they’re seeing, so they have to come up with another explanation. “It’s a ghost!”

Jesus says “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” In Greek, it actually reads “I am.”  Take heart. I am. Does that sound familiar to you? When Moses asked God “Who shall I say sent me?” God answered. “I am what I am. Tell them I AM sent you.”  Take heart. I am. Don’t be afraid.

But the disciples don’t answer. They’re still afraid. They speak when they should be silent and stay silent when they should speak. But Peter? Peter says, “Lord, if it’s you, ask me to come out there with you.” Which, when you think about it, is just about the worst proof-test ever.

Photo by HappyA

Imagine we’re back in WWI, in the trenches on the western front. It’s late at night, edging toward morning. You’ve been on guard duty all night. You’re tired and hungry, but you have a job to do, so you keep watch. And out of the mist, you see someone moving toward the line. “Don’t shoot, it’s me!” It sounds a bit like Captain Smith, and it looks though the haze like it might be Captain Smith. So, what do you say?

Exactly!  “If it’s really you, what’s the password?  What’s my hometown? Who plays third base for the Yankees?” You could come up with a hundred good questions to ask. You know what you wouldn’t say?  Not in a million years? “Hey cap, if it’s really you. Call me out there into no-man’s land with you.” What if it’s not really the captain? What if it’s just some German with a good accent? You’d be toast!

It’s not like people in Bible times were stupid. When Jesus was on trial before Herod, He said, “If you really are the Son of God, do a miracle for me.” The soldiers that blindfolded him and beat him said, “If you’re really a prophet, then prophecy. Tell us who just hit you.” When he was hanging on the cross the people said, “If you’re really the messiah, come down. If you’re the savior, save yourself.”

But Peter says, “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.” We’re stepping into interpretation now, but the only way I can read it this story so it makes sense is like this: Jesus comes walking through the storm, and the disciples say “This is terrifying!”  But Peter says, “That looks awesome!”

He has enough faith in himself to trust his eyes. He’s just as tired and frustrated as everyone else, but he looks through the fear and the exhaustion to the one he knows. He’s seen Jesus do miracles before. Is walking on walking on water beyond the power of one who can heal the sick, or feed the 5000?

The question isn’t, “Is this really Jesus?” or “Is this really possible?” The question is, “Did Jesus really mean it when he said this life is for us?” So Peter lays down the gutsiest challenge. “If the Jesus I know, the messiah, miracle worker, and Son of God, the one who loves me, if that Jesus is walking on water, I want to do it too.” And his trust in his teacher is so great, that when Jesus calls, Peter steps over the side.

If you’re looking for a moral here, try that one. It was faith that enabled Peter to ask the question. And the very next thing that happens, the very next step, requires greater faith, because he has to step off the boat. The next step requires greater faith, because he has to put his weight on both feet. The next step requires greater faith, because he has to let go of the boat. The next step requires greater faith, because he has to face the storm. How’s that for a moral? You are never done. Faith is about becoming. We’re all worried about getting into heaven someday. God’s worried about changing lives today.

Photo by Jim Boud www.JimBoud.com

You’re a seeker. Great. Get out of the boat. You’re a believer. Great. Get out of the boat. You’re a lifelong believer, and you do good works, and you tithe a tenth of your income, and you run a soup kitchen out of your actual kitchen, and you pray so much people can actually see your halo?  Great!  Get out of the boat. Because where ever you are, whoever you are, God has more to give you, more for you to receive, more for you to become.

You know what happens next, right? This is the part everyone wants to talk about. Peter fails. He looks away. He gets distracted. He gets scared. He starts to sink. Brothers and Sisters, this is not a warning. This is a guarantee. If you try to live a faithful life, if you trust God enough to step out of the boat, you will get distracted. You will get scared. You will sink. It will happen. And when it happens, be like Peter.

He doesn’t swim back. He reaches forward. “Lord, save me!” Even his failure is an act of faith. Call out to Jesus, reach out your hand and lean on him. He can take it! Keep your eyes on him and hold on tight. Once you’re safe, you know what you do next? You follow where he leads, even if it’s out into another storm.

Peter isn’t a warning. He’s an example. When preachers tell the story, they might poke fun, and if Peter were here he’d probably laugh. But looking back, I bet he remembered that day for the rest of his life as the day he walked on water. And I bet all the other disciples remembered it too, as the day they stayed in the boat.

First preached at First Congregational Church of Saugatuck on August 7, 2011.
Texts: Matthew 14:22-33

Get Out of the Boat  is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Link to revsmilez.com.

I have good news and bad news.  The good news is the rapture was supposed to happen yesterday, and we’re all still here!

The bad news is… we’re all still here.

All the people that ditched church today get a free pass, because you never know. At least not until we see them in church again, and then let the guilt trips begin!

I’m kidding. Why wait until next week? Call them up after church. “Just checking to see if you’d been raptured, since we didn’t see you in church this morning.”

That’s only funny because some little church lady somewhere is having that exact conversation right now.

E. Stanley Jones was a Methodist missionary who knew Mahatma Gandhi. When the Rev. Dr. Jones asked Gandhi what Christian missionaries could do to reach India, Gandhi said, “I love your Christ, but I dislike your Christianity. First, I would suggest that all of you Christians live more like Jesus Christ. Second, I would suggest that you practice your Christianity without adulterating it. The anomalous situation is that most of us would be equally shocked to see Christianity doubted or put into practice…” Did you catch that last line?  Gandhi said the people of India would be just as shocked to see us doubt our faith as to see us actually live it.

Our reading today is about someone who took his faith seriously, so seriously that he was willing to die for it. The church honors Stephen as the first martyr, and often holds him up as an example, but today I’m offering a different interpretation. My advice this morning is, don’t be like Stephen. Don’t get stoned. Good advice no matter which way you take it.

The disciples, guided by the Holy Spirit, chose Stephen as the leader of the first Deacons. Scripture says he was full of God’s grace and power. He performed wonders among the people and taught all who would listen about God’s love. Whenever someone argued with him, scripture says they could not stand against him because the Spirit gave him wisdom as he spoke.  So far so good. Go and do likewise and the world will be a better place.

But if you do, expect trouble. The powers that be benefit from the way things are. Run around freeing slaves and shining light in dark corners, and you undercut their power. You take money from their pockets. And just because you’re trying to live sin-free doesn’t mean anyone else agreed to play fair.

Stephen’s enemies met secretly. They planted false witnesses. Same thing happened to Jesus. Everybody loves Jesus, right? Jesus loves everyone. He makes wine for weddings and forgives the adulterous woman. He eats with terrorists and tax agents. Everyone loves Jesus… Well, obviously not everybody or they wouldn’t have killed him. You know what they said about him? “He’s a glutton and a drunk. He hangs out with a bad crowd.”

Don’t think it will be any different for you. They will take your actions and twist them. They will take your words out of context and put new ones in your mouth. If you honestly try to live like Jesus, like Stephen tried to do, they will crucify you. Metaphorically, hopefully.

So far, no problems. Follow the example of Stephen up until this point, because up until this point he has followed the example of Christ. But then he does the one thing Christians are so prone to do, and it almost never turns out well. He starts to preach.

Actually, he tells a story. Which, if you have to preach, is not a bad way to go. He tells a story they already know, which is a great way to build rapport. He tells them their own story, because remember, he’s a Jew too. He’s establishing common ground, very smart.

But he takes the story, and adds little twists, little jabs. It’s all in what part of the story you emphasize, right? He says, “the patriarchs were jealous of Joseph, they sold him as a slave into Egypt. But God was with him and rescued him from all his troubles.” No big deal. It’s not a nice thing to say about the patriarchs, but it’s true.

Stephen continues, “When Moses was forty, he decided to visit his people. He saw one being mistreated by an Egyptian, so he went to his defense and killed the Egyptian. Moses thought his own people would realize God was using him to rescue them, but they did not. The next day Moses saw two Israelites  fighting. He tried to stop them, “You’re brothers! Save it for the real enemy.” But the man pushed Moses aside and said, ‘Who made you ruler and judge? Are you going to kill me too?’ So Moses fled to Midian, where he live as a foreigner and had two sons.

So the Jews rejected their greatest hero. He lived in a foreign land, married a foreign woman, and had half-breed babies. At this point in the sermon, people are probably starting to get uncomfortable. It’s all true, but that’s part of the story you usually skip. Stephen keeps pushing. “This is the same Moses who told the Israelites, ‘God will raise up a prophet like me from your own people.’… “But our ancestors refused to obey him.” Then he brings up the Golden Calf, the most embarrassing story in the entire history of Israel, and he waves it in their faces. He has their complete attention.

Then closes with a killer twist. He springs the trap. “You stiff-necked people! Your hearts and ears are still uncircumcised. You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit! Was there ever a prophet your ancestors did not persecute? They even killed those who predicted the coming of the Righteous One. And now you have betrayed and murdered him…”

It’s an amazing sermon. And it got him killed. Jesus stood silent before his accusers, but Stephen had to preach. Jesus said love your enemies, but Stephen used his eloquence to rub their faces in their own guilt.

You could make an argument that Stephen was speaking by the power of the Spirit, that a message of guilt was exactly what they needed to hear before they could repent. To support that argument you could point to Stephen’s vision. Why would God grant him a vision of heaven if he wasn’t doing God’s will?

That’s possible.  But it’s also possible that Stephen’s vision is proof that no matter what mess you’ve gotten yourself into, God is there with you. No matter how badly your best intentions have mangled God’s message of love, God’s love is still true for you.

We have all said one thing and done another, and we will all do it again. That’s a problem, but we make it worse when we speak as if this self-evident fact weren’t obvious.  The problem doubles when we speak with such arrogant, self-righteous certainty.

“You stiff-necked people,” Stephen says, “Was there ever a prophet your ancestors didn’t persecute?” As if he weren’t a Jew, as if those weren’t his ancestors. As if he bore no guilt. If he was so certain that Jesus was the Christ, then why did his savior have to die alone? It’s not like it was hard to get crucified. All he had to do was speak up. Jesus could have died with a friend at his right hand instead of a thief.  But he didn’t.

Every time we stay silent in the face of evil, we condone it. And every time we speak with self-righteous certainty, our own words condemn us. One of my favorite preachers, Brennan Manning,  put it this way: “The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips and walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle.”

Ghandi went a step further. Remember, he said they would be equally shocked to see us doubt our faith as to actually live it. The problem isn’t just hypocrisy, it’s arrogance.

Photo by Arty Smokes

This is why humor plays such a large role in what we try to do here. Our ad in the paper says, “We take God seriously, not ourselves” because humor is the opposite of self-righteousness. Humor shines a light on things everyone else wants to ignore. Humor deflates pride, especially our own, and humor is our best chance to win our enemies instead of just yelling at them.

The real tragedy of this end times rapture prediction is not that it failed. The real tragedy is that for a surprising number of people it came true. For them, world ended at 6pm local time. They had one more day to make things right, and most of them blew it. Those who remain should take that as a warning, but we won’t because some preacher was certain he was right and turned the whole thing into a joke.

Next time someone predicts the end of the world, remember this. The unified witness of scripture is clear and simple. No one knows the day or the hour, only that it comes. One day, the wrong will be put right. Life will conquer death. Love will defeat hate. One day, each of us will answer for our lives, for the words we spoke and the ones we didn’t. We can pretend that day isn’t coming. Or we can start living the life God promised us now.  What are you waiting for?

Closing Prayer: Every time we stay silent in the face of evil, we condone it. And every time we speak with self-righteous certainty, our own words condemn us. Lord forgive us where we have failed, by what we have done, or left undone, and by the power of your Spirit, lead us in new and right paths for your name’s sake.

A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Easter
First preached at First Congregational Church of Saugatuck on May 23, 2011.
Texts:  Acts 6-8:1

It’s the End of the World! Or not… is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Link to revsmilez.com.

By show of hands, who has seen the movie, The Gods Must Be Crazy? For those of you who have yet to see this delightful movie, here’s the nutshell. A tribe of nomadic Africans is living a wonderful, happy life, when a passing pilot drops a Coke bottle out the window of his airplane. The tribe discovers the mysterious object and quickly learns that you can use it as a tool, a toy, or an instrument. They call it a gift from the gods. But there’s only one bottle. It can’t be a tool, a toy, and an instrument at the same time. In the ensuing argument, they discover it also makes a good weapon. The main character decides, “If this is a gift from the gods, the gods must be crazy.” So, for the good of his people, he’s going on a quest. He’s going to walk to the edge of the world and throw the Coke bottle off, give it back to the gods. He sets out on his quest, bumps into the modern world, and that’s when things get interesting. The question the movie raises is common to us all, “What do we do when God doesn’t make sense?”

First, recognize that we’re in good company. Bill Cosby has an amazing sketch about Noah…

Noah wasn’t the only Biblical character to wonder if God was nuts. How about Hosea? God told him to marry an unfaithful woman. Mr. Prophet of God had to go down to the hooker store and pick out a wife. And I can’t even tell you what he named the kids. I’m not allowed to use that kind of language in church.

How about Jeremiah? His country is about to fall, the enemy is at the gate and God says, “Go buy some land. This is a great investment. Get the notary. Sign the deed. This land is going to be worth something someday.”

How about Gideon? He’s about to fight a battle, and God says, “Your army is too big. Send some of them home. Nope, still too many. Send more home. Are any scared? Got kids at home? Send them home too. How many are left? 300? Perfect.”

How about Moses? He needs a sign, a miracle he can do to prove God is real. So God teaches him how to turn his staff into a snake. But when he gets there and does the miracle, no one is impressed. Turns out magicians in Egypt have been doing that trick for years.

Person after person in the Bible meets God and walks away shaking their head. “This doesn’t make sense. How can God ask me to do this? Is God nuts?” Then we look up from our Bibles and look around at the world. A kid from Fennville puts up the winning shot and then dies. Katrina, Haiti, Christchurch, Japan, Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya. What’s going on here?

Photo by Oddharmonic

C.S. Lewis wrote a little book called A Grief Observed. It records his process of grieving after his wife died of cancer. He says that through it all it seemed clear in his mind that God existed, but he wondered if maybe God was more like a kid burning ants with a magnifying glass than a loving, omnipotent father. Maybe God is real, he just doesn’t like us much. We all wonder sometimes. Is it just us, or is God nuts? Here’s the good news. It’s us!

Why does it seem sometimes like God doesn’t make sense? I’ll give you three reasons. 1. Because he’s about to do something impossible. Can you imagine the conversations that took place after Abram met with God?

Abram walks in, “Honey, we need to talk. God spoke to me today, and God says we need to pack up our entire house, and move.” And she says, “Right. Where are we going?”  “I don’t know. God said he’d tell us when we got there.” He’s 75 when they leave, he’s 100 when the get there. And when they get there the land is full of big people with armies. Sarah says, “Why are we doing this again?” “Because God says he’s going to give us all this land.” “Right. And how exactly is that going to happen?” “You’re going to have a son and I’m going to be the father of a great nation, more descendants than you can count.” “Let me get this straight. We pack up everything to move somewhere, it takes 25 years to get here because you won’t ask for directions, and now we’re supposed to do the wild thing? Am I on Candid Camera?”

God’s not nuts. He’s just about to do something that’s impossible. You could never do it. And until God tells you, you could never imagine it. So it’s completely normal that it would seem insane. From your perspective, it is. But you’re not God. That’s option 1.

Option 2. Why doesn’t God make sense? Because God makes perfect sense; you just don’t want to know. Let’s look at our text from John chapter 3. Nikodemus is a Pharisee, a preacher. But not just a Pharisee. He’s a member of the ruling council, the Sanhedrin. He’s a big shot. So answer me something. Why is Mr. Big shot sneaking around at night? And look what he says. “We know you’re from God…”  We. He doesn’t even speak for himself. He lacks the courage of his own convictions. He want to follow Jesus from the sidelines, at night, in secret.  But Jesus doesn’t play that game. He says you have to be born again.

Now this is an interpretation, so you don’t have to believe me, but my read on this is that Nikodemus is playing dumb.  “Surely, an old man can’t climb back into his mother’s womb.” First off, eww. And second, what kind of stupid question is that?

So Jesus unloads a mini-sermon on him, including the most popular verse of all time, John 3:16. But for our purposes today, I’d rather you focus on verse 19 and following.

“This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed.”

Remember, he’s preaching this to a leader who approached him in the middle of the night. “But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.”

Sometimes we know exactly what God wants to do. We just don’t want to do it. As C.S. Lewis said in his Chronicles of Narnia, “The problem with trying to make yourself stupider than you really are is that you often succeed.” That’s option 2.

Option 3. Why doesn’t God make sense? Because you’re in the middle of a story that you didn’t write. History only looks tidy and predictable 500 years out. Up close, it’s a mess. We look at the American Revolution and think, wow those Brits were out of touch. Did they seriously believe they could own the intire world and no one would say no?  But up close it wasn’t obvious at all. When they signed the Declaration of Independence, Benjamin Franklin said that now, “We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately.” They had no clue how it would all turn out? What does that mean for us?

For starter it means don’t be surprised. Look at the heroes of faith.  Look at the life of Jesus. If that’s how the world treats the prophets and the saints, if that’s how the world treats the Son of God, why act surprised? Expect it and accept it, and you’ll be moving forward while everyone else is still in shock wondering how this could happen.

On the other hand, don’t pretend like it’s ok. The saints complained. Jesus wept. The Psalms contain every human emotion from joy to black rage. We have an entire book in the Old Testament called Lamentations. By pretending everything is fine, all we do is cut ourselves off from the people who want to help us. This is your family. They want to laugh and cry and dance with you, and help you up when life knocks you down, but they can’t when you pretend it’s all fine.

But what if the problem isn’t in your life? Maybe it’s someone else’s life that exploded. When you step into that situation from the outside, don’t act like you know how their story goes. As a pastor, I’ve been part of a lot of funerals, and I’ve heard some doozies.

“God just needed another angel in heaven.” Really? I need my angel too. “God has a plan, you know.” Really? That plan sucks. “He’s in a better place.” Really? You know what a better place would be? Right here!

If they want to claim that story by faith, that’s their choice, but don’t push it on them. Your job is not to tell them what to think or how feel. Your job is sympathize. Sym-pathos – to suffer with them. You don’t have to have the answers. You be there. That means something.

If you’re the kind that needs to do something, or if you’re not able to be with them, then offer something specific and tangible that you can do that will make their life easier. “I can take the kids to a movie next Friday, take their minds off things for a bit, if that would be helpful.” A specific and tangible offer.

Lastly, don’t give up. You are in the middle of a journey. You are surrounded by good travel companions. And you have enough light to take the next step. So keep moving forward.

Noah floated. Hosea raised family. The kids had weird names, but he loved them. Jeremiah never redeemed his property, but his people sure did. Gideon won the battle. Moses set his people free. Sarah had a son, and she named him Laughter. Abraham became the father of a nation. And despite the scorn, the abuse, and the attacks of enemy after enemy, generation after generation, they are still here. Your story is just beginning, and even if this part doesn’t make sense, the author still holds the pen, and he’s already told us how the story ends.

Is it just me, or is God nuts is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License. Link to revsmilez.com.