What is He doing here? by Chris Shade

Do you like a good cliffhanger? Do you like the anticipation of not knowing how the leading characters are going to escape their sticky situation? Ugh! I hate them. They stress me out. And it is always at these tense moments that television shows opt to break for commercial. I remember being a big Dukes of Hazzard fan when I was a kid. Any other Duke boys fans in the audience? They were always getting a gun pointed at them, or having to make an impossible jump in the General Lee (that was their supped up Dodge Duster). And right at the tensest moment, they would freeze the frame and go to commercial. The absolute worst though is when the show would be getting toward the end and the resolution was nowhere in sight. The killer was nowhere close to being found. Or the kids were not going to make it out of the cave in time. Or Brenda and Dylan were still on their way to the prom. For a second you wonder how they are going to wrap it all up and still have time for the closing credits. Then three simple words spell out your answer...”to be continued...” Guess you will just have to come back next week.

We are going to see one of those “to be continued...” moments in our story today. But first I have to fill you in on last week. If this were a TV show, it might go something like: “Previously on The Sermon.” We heard a story about a wonderful homecoming. It goes like this: A man had two sons and the younger son wants his inheritance early. His father gives it to him and he leaves. Soon after we find him penniless as he spent all of his inheritance on loose living. He gets a lowly job feeding pigs. And as he sits with filthy pigs wishing that he could eat their food, he comes to himself and decides to return home and beg his father to hire him as a worker.

But when his father sees him coming, he runs out to meet him. He tells his servants to put a robe on him, a ring on his finger, and sandals on his feet. He tells them to kill the fattened calf and have a feast in his honor. For he says “This son of mine was dead and now he is alive; he was lost and now he is found.”

Now we could end it here. It certainly seems like a nice capper to the story. It is a tale of extravagant welcome and forgiveness. It is a lesson for us as a people and as a church of being warm and accepting. If you were here last week, you heard that lesson. But there is more to the story. At the end of the episode if you look past the party guests and out the window you would see a disgruntled man standing in a field. The older son! What is his beef? Find out next week on The Sermon.

Lucky for you, next week is today.

We pick up right where we left off. The father goes out to the older son to plead with him. The older son wastes no time with niceties or a respectful greeting to his father. He starts right in. “Listen!” he says “For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!”

Essentially the older son is saying, “What is HE doing here!?!” This is a bold statement. The bile and judgment comes right through. The older brother is mad. But can you really blame him? After all, he has a point, right? Why should this younger brother get the king’s treatment? After all, he has done nothing but squander everything that he has been given whereas the older son has been nothing but faithful and true.

To understand why Jesus put this reaction in the parable we have to go back a bit. Back before the sermon last week to look at the beginning of this chapter of Luke. This parable comes as a capper to a trio of parables about finding lost things. There is the parable of the lost sheep, the parable of the lost coin, and finally this one which could easily be called the parable of the lost son. They are teachings about how much celebration there is in heaven when a sinner is repentant and changes their sinful ways.

These parables are not being told out of the blue. They are all in response to the Pharisees. Now who are the Pharisees? The Pharisees were powerful religious leaders that were entrusted with the task of making sure all of the Jewish religious laws were being followed. The text says that they were grumbling about Jesus eating with quote “sinners” unquote. These sinners had not earned their space at the table. They were unclean, not the blessed people, the ones that God truly loved and admired. No. The Pharisees thought that the grace of God must be earned, and they had earned it, not these sinners. If this Jesus, this Son of God, should be eating with anyone, it should be them. In essence they felt like the older son.

This is exactly why Jesus introduces the character of the older son into the story. It would have been hard for Jesus to illustrate this concept of jealousy with sheep or coins. But here we have an older son that is upset that his younger brother is being doted on by his father after squandering his money. That is something that hits home. This is quite obviously intended at the Pharisees who are looking down their noses at Jesus and his merry band of sinners.

The story does not hide the idea that the two sons are opposite contrasts of one another. The younger son does everything wrong. Everything about him is dirty, except...his heart. His heart is humble. His heart is willing. He is filled with rediscovered love for his father and for his family. He just wants to be a part of it, if only in small way.

By contrast his brother, the older one, does everything right. He is perfect in every way except...his heart. His heart is full of hate and resentment. He resents his father. He resents his father’s actions. And he clearly resents his brother, the one who devoured his father’s property. In essence Jesus is claiming that hearts of these Pharisees are no better than the sinners with whom he dines. In fact, they might be worse.

It is likely that we have all felt like the older son at one point or another in our lives. Perhaps you have resented others for the actions that they have taken. Maybe you have felt unfairly treated or even hurt. Or you have wished that others would just go away. Certainly this is the easy response. But this parable gives us an alternative in the actions of the father. When the world says to forget about others, this parable says to run to them with open arms. When the world says that you should cut those people off, this parable says that we should reach out with grace. When the world says that we should only look out for ourselves, this parable says that we should be abundant with forgiveness. Resentment will only breed isolation. But acceptance will foster togetherness.

It is only fitting then, that the father, the example of the love of God, should have one more thing to say. “Son,” he says. “You are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”

         There are two important details about this response.

         The first is that the Greek word that we translate as “son” is teknon, which is a very special word for son that denotes affection and intimacy. There is a great deal of love in that word. There is a great deal of love that the father has for his older son. He does not exchange malice for malice. He does not respond with resentment, but with love. The same kind of love that he had extended earlier to the younger son.

         The second detail is the equality in the statement. “You are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” Certainly we can read this as a monetary promise. After all the older son remains such and will receive all that comes with that title. But it is about more than money. Remember, this is a parable. The older son is not just an older son, but a thinly veiled characterization of the Pharisees. So when Jesus as the father says “All that I have is yours” what he is saying is that the Pharisees are not going to be removed from their post, but rather that the Kingdom of God is available to them. They can share in this joy. They can be a part of all that God is doing in the world at that moment.

         And with that he repeats what he said earlier. What was dead has come to life. The lost son, like the sheep and the coin before him has been found.

And then, the text ends. But I would argue that the story doesn’t. I think that there is an invisible “to be continued...” at the end of this story.

The Bible scholar Dr. Ken Bailey’s does too. Dr. Bailey analyzed this parable in comparison to Hebrew story structure and concludes the parable cuts off too early. To complete the structure there should be a final response from the older brother, but there is none. Why? According to Dr. Bailey the last part was for the Pharisees to fill in on their own. If the term “to be continued...” existed in Jesus’ time, he might have directed it right at the Pharisees. Remember, it was the Pharisees who looked down on Jesus for dining with sinners and the unclean. But Jesus called them out. He uses the story to show the true nature of their hearts in comparison to God’s love. The next move is on them.

So Jesus leaves it up to the Pharisees. Do they want to continue to stand on the outskirts looking in with disdain and judgment at this new thing that God is doing? Or do they want to cast off their pride and join in the party? Whether or not they do, God’s grace and love is still going to be abundant. To saints and sinners alike.

So in this day, as we gather in this place, as we take part in this worship, the question of response is not directed at the Pharisees, but rather directed at us. The “to be continued...” phrase is aimed at our lives. How are we going to act?

A few months ago, we started asking these kinds of questions. Who is our neighbor? How will we respond? What will get us talking? It is a tough process and one that we certainly can not complete in twelve short summer weeks. But along this process we have to ask ourselves, “What will our response be if and when we do start making connections?” After all, we are not called to reach out to those who are doing great, but rather those who, like the younger son, are in need of a place to feel at home. And I will be honest: some of these people can make us uncomfortable at first. So how will we respond?

Will we be like the father and give ourselves over to welcome and acceptance making this a safe haven for the lost and the broken, for all of God’s children? Or will we be like the Pharisees who prefer to have order and comfortability and keep things the way that they have always been.

Maybe a better way to put it is, “What does your love look like?” Is like the father’s love in the story or by parallel God’s love? Does it flow abundantly through you? Does it overcome being wronged, being left, being forgotten? Does it seethe with resentment or does it offer forgiveness? Does it lift others up or break others down? Does it extend to the least of these? Does your love shine even in times of embarrassment, awkwardness, and uncomfortably?  

So when we check in again on the next episode, will we find yourself ourselves alone in the field like the older son with only our pride and stubbornness to keep us company or will we be inside, at the party, sitting at the table of grace? Well, if Luke is correct, you know where Jesus will be, sitting down with a loaf of bread in one hand and a sinner in the next, trying to figure out how to make something of this community. People of God, people of love, go and do likewise. Amen.

Ooooh, the Humanity... by Chris Shade

There are two kinds of people in the comic book loving world. There are Superman people and there are Batman people. What side are you on? If you are not sure let me give you a bit of back story. Superman people love the super powers of their comic book hero. They like that he can deflect bullets with his bare chest, that he can shoot heat rays out of his eyes, and he can fly! He can fly!

Now Batman people don’t go for all of that super power kind of stuff. See Batman is just a regular human. He can’t fly. He can’t shoot lasers. He is not even that strong. He is just your average guy, well, if your average guy was a highly intelligent billionaire with an arsenal of weapons and decades of combat training. Okay, so he is not all that average, but he is mortal; he is human.  

         Now why am I telling you this? Well, I want to come right out and say it. I want to confess on this day in this pulpit: I am a Batman person. I identify with the character who gets his powers from within.  I like the harsh reality that Batman has to face on a daily basis and knowing he could die. In short, I like the humanity.

         So, it is with this kind of knowledge that I come to this story of the Transfiguration that Nancy read for us this morning. I have to say that this story always perturbed me. I have always felt that it is a bit out of place in the grand narrative of Jesus. Here is why: Jesus is a guy who is walking the earth, healing the sick, feeding the hungry, questioning authority...and then, seemingly out of the blue, he takes a minute out of his day to walk up a mountain and have a glorious apocalyptic moment with Elijah and Moses. It just seems a bit out of place to me. But maybe it is because I am looking at it like a Superman story and not a Batman story. Maybe I am missing the humanity that is present in the story. So I invite you to come with me this morning and see if we can find a place for us in the Transfiguration. If we find it, we might just be prompted to utter the title of the sermon: Ohhhh, (delivered like someone who came to a realization, not in anguish) the Humanity.

         Well right off of the bat it says that Jesus went up to the mountain to pray. In fact it was during his prayer that the Transfiguration happened. I can identify with this – this need to get away, this need to go and just have a moment of peace. Are you with me? How many times in your busy stressful day have you thought, boy, I wish I could just get away. I wish I could take a trip to someplace that is quiet, a place that is peaceful. Wouldn’t that be nice? Jesus no doubt had many reasons to want to take a moment to himself. There were the insistent crowds, the clueless disciples, and let’s not forget the powerful authorities that wanted to kill him. Talk about stress.

         But I don’t know if this is the best place to find the humanity in the story. After all, Jesus was the son of God, so his prayer must have been on a whole other level. When we pray, do we pray like Jesus? Can we pray like Jesus? We can certainly pray as Jesus taught us, but is that the same?  I mean he went up to a mountain top and was surrounded by a cloud. Is that humanity? I am not sure. Perhaps we should keep looking.

         Perhaps there is humanity in the connection with the Creator. God’s presence was certainly felt on that day. Even God’s voice came down and spoke. “This is my Son, Listen to Him.” At it is God’s presence that brings about the transformation. It says that Jesus’ face was changed and his clothes became a dazzling white. On the surface this might sound like the toughest place in the story to find humanity, what with all of the theatrics. But I do not think that it is impossible.

At it’s heart, the transfiguration is about change, and as humans, we have the capacity for great change. We have the gift of choice and we can use that gift to make remarkable changes in our lives and in our world. Maybe you have made the transition from addiction to recovery. Maybe you have mended a relationship that you though would never be reconciled. Maybe you have simply begun a new exercise regime. Whatever the case, it is our capacity for change, for transformation that makes us human. And it is the presence of God in this story and in our lives that can inspire that change to happen.

         But if I am to be really honest, I think that our changes, no matter how significant just don’t quite measure up to the power of this story. It says that Jesus’ whole face changed. Even his clothes became new. In all of His glory, I think that we lose a bit of the humanity.

         Perhaps we are focusing too much on Jesus. Maybe we can find connections with other characters in the story. Maybe the humanity lies in one of Jesus’ companions. The scripture says that Jesus was joined by Moses and Elijah, not angels, but humans. Humans that had struggles, humans that wanted to run from their callings. Moses told God he was not worthy of the task God gave him. Elijah ran away when things got too heated in his life.

So, can we see some humanity in these folks? Have you ever been in a situation that you did not want to face? Have you feared failure, rejection, or the stresses of leadership? Have you ever felt like staring God in the eye and just saying, “No.” Well then you might identify with these two characters.

But to be honest, they are clearly not in this story because of their human faults. They are in this story because of what they accomplished. Both encountered God on a mountain top, both went on to do great things for their people and both are revered. They are the equivalent of Jewish super heroes: Moses representing the law and Elijah representing the prophets, two pillars of Jewish faith and teaching. And they show up in this story as a way to link Jesus’ life to theirs, to link a traditional faith to a new revelation.  

So that leaves us with Peter. Poor, naive Peter. He sees this miraculous event and proclaims, “It is good to be up here. We should build some dwellings. Let’s make three houses. One for you, Jesus, and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” Now we can certainly feel for Peter. I mean which of us would really know how to handle that situation? Historical figures that have been dead for thousands of years just show up one day on a mountain. What would you do? He was just trying to be helpful. Now there is humanity here, but Peter’s character definitely leaves something to be desired. Thankfully the story does not end there.

         At the end of the day Jesus came down off of that mountain top. And do you know what he did? He got to work. And this is where I think our best glimpse of humanity lies. Jesus did not ascend into heaven on Elijah’s chariot. He did not stay up on that mountain and set up camp. No, he came down. For though it is His connection with God that makes Him divine, it is his connection with the earth that makes Him human. So He comes back and He gets back to work. In the very next story He heals a boy and restores a family. So maybe the humanity is not on the mountain top, but in coming down off of the mountain and getting back to work.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I think that mountain moments are crucial. They are essential in our lives and in our work. Taking time to be alone. Taking time to pray. Being available to have encounters with our God that renew us and change us: they all vitally important. But we cannot stay there. Just as Jesus came down and got back to work, so should we.

         And what a load of work there is to do. I feel like we can have a wheel of issues and just spin it and see what comes up. Take your pick. How about feeding the hungry? According to the U.S. census, in 2011 over 6 million people in California alone are below the poverty line. 6 million! That’s more than any other state. And 1 in 5 kids live in a household that struggles to put food on the table.

You want to talk environment? 2012 was the hottest year ever in the United States and experts say that this decade is no doubt going to be the hottest. You hear about the loss of crops, the wildlife being displaced, and don’t forget the weather patterns like hurricane Sandy.

You can take gun control, human trafficking, health reform, the prevalence of corporate influence in our government. The list goes on and on.

Now I am not just here to spout doom and gloom and throw a bunch of statistics at you. I am merely pointing out that there is work to do. A lot of work to do. And who better to do it than us. What better time that now? And we have made progress. This church has raised over $2000 for the Habitat for Humanity build in Walnut Creek and we are sending five workers to give their time and talent to help further. We contribute time, food, and money to our local food bank. The youth collected $165 here last week. We inform ourselves about the issues and stay informed.

But there is more work to be done and we can only stand up on the mountain for so long before we have to follow the lead of Jesus and get back to work.

Now you know that I am a Batman person, right, but I found this story of Superman that seems particularly appropriate to end on. It’s called Superman: Grounded. It begins after a long series of events that lead the people of the U.S. to feel like Superman has lost touch. He has been away for so long he no longer understands what life is really like in their world. So Superman agrees to come out of the skies and walk. He walks from one end of the country to the other. He does not fly. He barely uses his powers. He just walks and sees what is around him. He looks at the joy and tragedy of everyday life. In the end, he finds his humanity.  

So I invite you to do something this week. Take a walk. Not just a figurative walk down from the mountain top but an actual walk. In your neighborhood. Investigate your surroundings. See where the need is immediately around you. And if you can’t find it, keep walking. Keep looking. For though our connection with God may renew us and invigorate us, it is our connection to this earth that makes us human. And the people said...Amen

Where is my Manna? by Chris Shade

Today we are talking about finding grace in providence. But what is providence? Well here are some quick facts about providence to help clarify.

·      Providence is the capital of Rhode Island and is the 37^th largest city in America.

·      It is known largely for its silverware and jewelry industry.

·      It was ranked by Travel and Leisure in 2012 as the best food city in the U.S.

·      So if you want to find grace, pack your bags, because it exactly 3065 miles to Providence.

Seriously though, Providence RI is an important city in the history of the American Baptists. Roger Williams, a Baptist, founded Providence and the oldest Baptist church in America. He named it in honor of "God's merciful Providence" which he believed was responsible for revealing such a haven to him and his followers. And that is the kind of providence, God’s merciful Providence, that we are talking about today.

But I am going to take you back before Roger Williams, before our parable even, all the way back to the time of Joshua.

Imagine this: You are a member of the Hebrew people thousands of years ago. You have left Egypt and are traveling to the promised land. Every day is the same. You wake up and you go out and collect manna. Now you are not quite sure what manna is. All that you know is that it shows up every morning, it is tasty, it is nourishing, and oh yeah, it comes from God. It is physical, touchable, palpable proof of God’s providence. It is proof that God is caring from you and protecting you from starvation. And every day is the same. You get up, you collect manna, you eat it, and you go to bed. Every day.

         Until one day. That fateful day. You get up, you go out, and there is no more manna. You think to yourself, where is my manna? Has God abandoned me? Maybe my neighbors have manna. So you go ask them. But they do not have manna either. There isn’t any anywhere. Has God abandoned everyone? Where is the manna, you wonder. You think back to previous days. Perhaps you all have done something to anger God, to fall out of God’s favor. What could it be? You had just finished celebrating the Passover, remembering the glorious deliverance from Egypt. You celebrated by eating unleavened cakes to remind you of the food that your ancestors ate when they left Egypt. They had to flee is such a hurry that they did not have time to wait for the bread to rise. You also celebrated by eating the produce that you had gotten from the land. Could that be it? Was God angry that you helped yourself? Oh, how you long for some good ole fashioned manna.

         This was the case of the Hebrews in the scripture that Emrys read for us today. It is a bit of a strange isolated text thrown in the middle of Joshua between a circumcision story and the battle of Jericho (no joke, I could not make this up if I wanted to.) One day, the manna just stopped and the people ate from the earth from then on. It makes one wonder if anyone felt slighted by God. After all they had this very tangible, real physical proof of God’s providence and then it vanished. I would not be surprised if some of the Hebrews felt abandoned by God and felt a longing for God’s care.

         If the Hebrew Scriptures are any indication, the Hebrew people have had a history of longing for God’s presence. You need to look no further than the psalms.

Psalm 63 that we read together last week.

You, God, are my God,  

earnestly I seek you;
I thirst for you,
    my whole being longs for you,
in a dry and parched land
    where there is no water.

Psalm 42

As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God.

This sense of longing is present in the psalms and the prophets and carries into the time of Jesus. Jesus tells the parable that we read this morning, not out of the blue, but because his audience would understand the plight of the younger brother. 

         Like the Hebrews who were blessed with manna, the younger brother in this story was blessed as well. He never wanted for anything. But, he was curious. He wanted to see what it was like in the big city. So he left. He wanted to live life to the fullest and experience all that the world had to offer. Rich food. Strong drink. The company of women. But pretty soon, his reliance on himself lost its luster. Once the money was gone, the great life went with it. The rich food – eaten; the strong drink – drunk; and the women – gone. He finds himself in the lowest of the low: feeding pigs, unclean, sacrilegious pigs. He is hungry. He is tired. He thought that he could do it on his own, but he came up short. And he longs for the time when he was awash in providence. Like the Hebrews longing to have back their manna, he longs for the time when he was under his father’s care. His longing is all that fills his belly. He wants to go home.

         I understand this journey. As a fresh faced 18 year-old I felt the call of the big city. I moved from my modest house in the suburbs of San Jose to the Big Apple, New York City...sight unseen...by myself. Though I did not have the same kind of agenda as the brother in our story, I was young and naïve. I was foolish enough to think that I could make this kind of jump on my own and that I did not need anyone. And like the brother, I discovered that I was wrong. Now, I did not end up in squalor feeding pigs, but I did end up feeling a sense of longing.

It was not that I did not love living in New York, because I did. And it was not that I was simply homesick, though I was. No this longing was much deeper. Back in California I had a church family and a support system, and religious practices and closeness with God. And in New York I did not have that. I did not belong to a church. I had left my spiritual disciplines at home in California. And I missed it. I missed the closeness that I felt with God. I missed the blessing of God’s providence, the feeling that God was caring for me and protecting me. To use the metaphor from earlier, I missed the manna.

         So one Sunday morning I left my apartment and took a walk. I had intended to walk down about 20 blocks to a church I knew. I made it a block and a half when I came across Madison Avenue Baptist Church. From the moment I sat down, I knew that I was home. They welcomed me with open arms, with genuine kindness, and with joy and laughter. I was home.

         The brother in our parable today had a similar experience. As he sat there in the mud with the pigs feeling as low as a human can feel, he remembered that his father’s workers fared better than he was doing now. Maybe he could go back and convince his father to let him just work on the property. Maybe he could get back a tiny portion of the life that he once knew. So he got up and left. And as we all know, the father runs out to meet him. He hikes up his robe to move faster, and when he gets to the younger brother he throws his arms around him. He welcomes him gladly. The brother is home.

         At this point we must question why is Jesus telling this parable? What does his audience have to gain by hearing it? Well remember, this is the same crowd that also has heard of the story of the manna being taken away. They have heard of the psalms of longing. Not to mention, they have been overcome by the Romans. They are defeated. They are occupied. They long for God’s presence with them, for God’s protection. They long for God’s providence. Jesus is telling them that God’s providence is there. It has always been there. All they need do is look for it. And it is not just present. It is abundant. The parable says that the father held a giant feast for the returned son. He killed the fattened calf. He gave him a robe and a ring and made him a part of the family again.

         (SLOWLY) But what does this parable mean for us? Well, are we so different from the audience of Jesus? Have you ever wanted to feel the presence and the providence of God? Have you ever strayed from home spiritually? Gotten lost? Wondered if God was still there? Have you ever felt the sense of longing that is present in our stories today? Have you ever looked to the sky and wondered, where is my manna?

         The good news of the message today is that it is not too late. God’s presence, God’s care, God’s providence is available to us. It is always available. And it is abundant. Like the father, God waits for us to return with welcome and open arms. Picture it like this: We are like trapeze artists swinging back and forth, dangling upside down, wondering where to go next. If we would only look up, we would see that God has been swinging in front of us this whole time, arms outstretched, waiting for us to grab on. We only need to reach out, offer our hand, and God will bring us home.  And the people sad Amen

The hymn, Precious Lord, is one that comes from the kind of place that we have been talking about this morning. It is a hymn of longing and of need. And it speaks of God’s ever present grace. As we enter into a time of prayer, let us sing together hymn number 472 Precious Lord, Take My Hand. 

Creating Diversity, by Chris

Let me ask you something. What do a corpse flower, a blob fish and a star nosed mole have in common? Well to answer that question we have to go back. Way back. Way way way way back to the beginning. To creation.

         In the beginning it says the earth was dark and formless, like the middle of the ocean on a pitch black night. And God moved along the waters and saw that it was very...dull.  A Dark formless void is not the most exciting place around. Why? Because it is all the same. So God said, “Let there be light!” And there was light. Now suddenly the elements had doubled. There was light and darkness. Twice as much as before. The first dichotomy of the universe.

It is interesting that this story begins with the creation of light. Do you remember the story I told last year about Jenny the Jellyfish. Jellyfish were the first creatures to develop a sense of sight, and they did that by being able to distinguish light from dark. It is the first, but the most primitive way to see the world. Light and Dark.

         And there was morning and there was evening, the first day.

         On the second day, God was surveying the waters. God could see them better now with all the light. Lots of waters. Miles and miles of water. It was calm and peaceful. Never moving. Never going anywhere. And God saw that it was...dull. Lifeless. This calm body of water was fine for a while (like a day maybe) but then God came to realize that it just sat there. Boring. So God separated the waters. God took the waters and created a dome that rose above the oceans below. And God called this dome, sky.

         Now the Bible stops there, but we, with the benefit of science and history, can read a bit deeper into the story. What God really created on the second day was...anyone...weather. By separating the water, God created what we now call an atmosphere. By making water vapor God created the clouds that move across the sky. With the atmosphere there could now be wind to blow across the water. Wind, which we use as one of the symbols of Spirit. By moving the water into the sky, God also created rain which we use to symbolize cleansing, renewal, and life-giving nourishment. And let’s not forget fog. If you are an East Bay or San Francisco resident, fog is a constant companion this time of year.

         Water separated. Weather created. And there was morning, and there was evening, the second day.

         So on the third day, you would think that God would be happy with everything. God made tons of different kinds of water. But God looked at the clouds in the sky, the sea swirling below and God thought, “It’s all just water. Sometimes its light, sometimes is dark, but it is always just water. It is so insubstantial. I need another element.”

         So, the Bible says, God gathered all of the water into one place and made land appear. A whole new element was created. Earth. Rock. Formed. Solid. Not like formless water. This was something new. Something different. It is interesting to note that the water was gathered and the land arose not to replace the water, but to compliment it. And what a compliment it was. God did not create just one kind of landscape. Oh no. There was much diversity. Giant rising mountains with deep dank caves growing inside them. Large rolling hills, flat sweeping plains, massive erupting volcanoes, and far reaching deserts.

         And God looked upon this land and decided it needed a little decoration. Something to, you know, spruce up the place. So God created “plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it.” And sure this included oak trees and apple trees and grape vines and the lovely green grass in your yard. But it also included the corpse flower. “What is a corpse flower?” you ask. “Known by its scientific name, Rafflesia arnoldii, this parasitic plant has no visible leaves, stems, or roots. But it does boast the world's largest single bloom that can grow over three feet across and has a hole in the center that holds six or seven quarts of water. It gets its name from its smell which reeks of, you guessed it, rotting meat. But it is this smell which attracts insects that it relies on to pollinate. Gardeners, you may want to consider this next season. Just one of several amazing diverse plants.

         If the corpse plant does not do it for you (I personally find it fascinating) then just think of all of the different kinds of fruit that you can taste at the supermarket. Think of all of the color of flowers to see. Do you know that there are over 100 species of roses alone? Truly God was getting this diversity thing down. What stated as nothingness has now erupted into color. Land. Vegetation. Diversity had sprung. And there was morning and there was evening the third day.

         Fourth Day. God looked away from the little blue dome for a second and into the universe. Probably because all of those plants needed some time to grow. God looked into space and decided that it needed some energy. And God said, ‘Let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night; and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years, and let them be lights in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth.’ And it was so. 

         There are two interesting things at work here. One is that God created something to nurture life on Earth. The sun it says rules the day, while the moon rules the night. They are reminders that God is taking care of us.

         Secondly, God effectively creates a way to mark time. Debates about creation versus evolution aside, it is amazing how much value this story gives to the creation of time. A whole day. The sun and the moon are signs to mark the seasons, signs to mark the days and the years. These are the first measurements, the first markers of order in the universe. Another way that God takes care of us, but giving us order.

         And there was morning and there was evening on the fourth day.

         So fifth day we are back on earth. God saw that the earth was teeming with life. Vegetation and fruits of all kinds. But then God took a look at the waters, and saw that they had been neglected while all of this gardening was happening. The land was beautifully decorated. By contrast the waters both on the bottom and in the sky looked so empty and boring. So God filled them. God said, ‘Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky.’         

Now God was on a diversity kick. After creating all of the strange, colorful and interesting plants, God turned that same kind of attention onto the birds and fish. There are 10,000 different species of birds. 10,000! Any bird watchers here? Have you made it to 10,000 yet?

And there are fish of all kinds. Weird stuff too. If you do not believe me, just go home and do a Google image search for weird fish. If you do you might come across this guy, the blobfish. The blobfish are found off the coasts of Australia and Tasmania. They live in deep ocean and are rarely seen. To move, the blobfish spreads out its blob-like body and floats right above the see floor. It needs neither oxygen nor muscle power to move. It eats whatever floats into its mouth. It survives because it has no known predators. I mean, would you want to eat this?

So the blobfish, the 10,000 species of birds, and the rest are all part of the wonderful creation that was morning and evening on the fifth day.

On the sixth day, God must have gotten up early. I imagine that God was up all night trying to think of all of the ways that the great success with the air and ocean could be applied to land. God probably looked at all of the vegetation and thought, “Wouldn’t it be great if there was something or someone here to enjoy all of this?” So God got to work. God created animals to appreciate the tallest trees. Here is a giraffe. Now many think of a giraffe as a majestic animal. Personally I think it is a bit goofy looking. But God made the giraffe to appreciate the tall trees.

However, God also made the star nosed mole. Whereas the giraffe explores the high vegetation, the star nosed mole prefers the land underground. Now you can see how it gets its name. But this odd looking feature is extremely important in this creature’s underground habitat. In addition to keeping dirt out of its nose, the mole’s 22 tentacles are extremely sensitive to touch and to electrical impulses and allow the moles to find their invertebrate prey without using sight. So after six days of creation God makes something to live in and appreciate the darkness in the whole thing started. Fascinating.

But after the mole and the giraffe and all of the other land creature were made, God was still not done. Though God had made everything in the world, there was nothing that could truly appreciate creation and its scope the way that God does. So God decided to create humans. God created them in God’s image. Now many people think that this means that God looks like us. Others think that it means that humans have a soul like God separating them from the other creatures. But you want to know what I think? I think that it means that we are blessed with the ability to create. Now many animals can create things; this is true. Just look at a spider’s web or a birds nest and you can see evidence of this. But humans are the only creature with the kind of tremendous foresight it takes to create murals, gardens or architecture. We are the only ones that can think ahead to make something that will be used and seen for generations to come. And it is with this ability to create that we can appreciate creation. God gave us the blessing of being able to look at this planet and be awestruck by its diversity. We can look on it and see that it is good, the same way God saw that it was good.

And there was evening and there was morning the sixth day.

So how do we take this charge that is given to us by our creator? How do we learn to appreciate diversity? Diversity in our world? Diversity in each other? It reminds me of a joke. A violinist gets into a cab in New York City and asks the cab driver, “Do you know how to get to Carnegie Hall?” The cabbie responds, “Practice practice practice.” And that is what we have to do. To fully appreciate others we have to practice.

So what keeps us from practicing? For some it might be fear. Fear of difference can be a very powerful force. Just ask anyone who fought for civil right in the 60’s, or any Muslim American in the wake of 9/11 or anyone who identifies as gay, or transgendered, or any other sexual minority that has faced persecution because of who they are. Fear of what is different is only one step away from ridding the world of difference. But that is the opposite of what we have learned in this beautiful creation story. We are not creatures of destruction. We are creatures of creation. We are not products of limited diversity. We are products of flourishing diversity. It is time to start living like it.

Our outreach challenge this week is to have a conversation with someone who comes from a different culture than you, or has a different way of life than you live.  I invite you to open your minds up to meeting new people, seeing things in a different way, and being changed. I invite you this week to appreciate this diversity in others the way that God appreciates the diversity in all of creation.

I started this sermon with a question. What do a corpse flower, a blobfish, and a star nosed mole have in common? The answer is that they are all part of a diverse and wonderful creation. As am I. As are you.

And the people said...Amen

Easter Economics, by Chris Shade.

I have to start this sermon with a confession. I love P.W.P. television shows. Anyone know what these are? Well I will fill you in. P.W.P. stands for people with problems. You may have seen these kinds of shows before. They usually follow some person around for a given period of time and showcase their particular issue. It can be anything from drugs to hoarding food or junk to eating laundry detergent. But what is most fascinating about these shows to me is not the actual problem.  What’s fascinating is the revelatory moment. This is the moment when the main person discovers that he or she is in need of help. In that moment their perspective shifts and a new life becomes possible. When it works they are able to put their old ways behind them and move into a new future of change and happiness.

In a revelatory moment, one’s eyes are flown wide open. People become like the blind man that Jesus healed. The scales that were once there blocking the vision of the truth fall away. There are many stories like this in the Bible. Though they might not have a strange addiction or crazy obsession, they do have revelatory moments that change their lives forever. Think of how Moses must have felt when God appeared to him in the burning bush. He could not just walk away from that and pretend it did not happen. From then on his life was forever changed.

Yes there are many of these stories of revelatory moments in the Bible and I would venture to guess that we could each come up with one in our own lives. However, historically there is none that is so powerful and formative for us as Christians as the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. And as powerful as it is for us, imagine how it must have been to those who walked and talked with Jesus. Their simple lives became overwhelmed with the formative power of this man and his teachings. Talk about a revelatory moment. Nothing after would ever be the same. They were living in a new time. A new consciousness. They were living in rapid change with a message to help steer it. Starting to sound familiar yet? Are we not also in a rapidly changing environment with a message to help shape it?

So they have their revelatory moment. They have witnessed the love that could not be buried, and they have been tasked to spread it out into the world. The question that remains before them is “How?” This brings us to our scripture today. Acts 4:32-35...

         But...Before we delve into this, it is important to see the context. Previous to this passage, Peter and John had been arrested by the chief priests and the elders for performing a healing. And you know it was miraculous because the text is clear to point out the man was over 40 years old! When they were questioned they made it clear that the healing was done in the name of Jesus. The authorities wanted to punish them, but they couldn’t because all of the people were so overjoyed at the miracle done on this impossibly sick man. So they released Peter and John warning them not to speak to anyone in the name of Jesus. Peter and John returned to their community and prayed for boldness to continue speaking and healing in Jesus name.

I mention this context because I want to make clear that the stakes were very high. They had been arrested. They were being threatened. And perhaps worst of all, they did not know what the future was going to hold for them. Loyalty, togetherness, and faith were all they had. That and a few possessions. 

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. ³³With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. ³⁴There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. ³⁵They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. 

At first this might sound like a simple lesson on sharing. After all sharing is great. Isn’t sharing something that we try to instill in all of our kids? Whether you are a parent, a teacher or a youth (or Logos) leader, sharing is one of the fundamental lessons that we try to teach our children. After all, nobody wants to raise spoiled selfish brats. Unfortunately, sometimes, we do a better job of teaching it than we do acting it out.

Now, I am a big proponent of sharing. I love sharing. When Renee and I go out to eat, we make sure to get something that the other person wants too so that we can share. What’s more, I live in a community house, a house that was so inspired by this passage that we try to live it day to day by sharing our food, our living space, our personal lives, and our feelings. Yes even our feelings. Once a week we get together and go around the room sharing what is going on with us personally. We provide support for each other and togetherness. Living in community is not always equal and it is not always fair, but it is always shared.

So yes, I love sharing. But this passage is about more than just sharing a sushi roll over dinner or talking about feelings. Remember lives are at stake here. I think taking this story and trying to tell it as a tale of economic morality takes away the deeper lessons that are implicit. By stopping at money we are only hitting the surface level. It would be like stating that Aesop’s Fables are just a bunch of nice stories about animals.

To find the real heart of this story, I think that we need to go back to the revelatory experience of the apostles. Remember that they are in this new time period. The old has passed away and they are living in the new. What was important in the old life, freedom from occupation, gaining wealth and power, being religiously obedient to the chief priests and elders has all become secondary. In its place are the teachings of Jesus. The power of the resurrection. Gaining equality. Healing the sick.  Giving hope to the hopeless. Spreading a message of love and forgiveness.

It certainly was not easy for these early believers. They realize early on that if they are going to do this they are going to have to rely on two very important things: faith in God and unity with each other. And I am talking about a kind of grand encompassing unity. The kind of unity that the psalmist wrote about in Psalm 133. This psalm has such a beautiful message. In it the psalmist describes unity as something that is as precious as sacred oil.  It is a unity that spreads like a flood going all the way from Mount Hermon to Zion, which, for those of you not up on your Biblical geography is a really, really long way. This unity is blessed, it is abundant and it is sacred. This is what the apostles were trying to achieve.

And to do that they had to give up a piece of themselves.  Sure we can cite land and possessions as what they gave up, but that is just a small indication of how the Spirit moves them in this new life. They have seen the sacrifice that Jesus made and seen what it takes to be committed to this new way of being. It takes giving up a piece of themselves in order to make the greater whole strong.

It is like links in a chain. If you have a bunch of separate links unconnected then the chain is not going to be very effective. It is only by the links giving up a bit of themselves and creating space, that they can be connected to one another, and once together, the chain becomes strong.

And this is where we enter the story. This is where we can see our place in the tale. For we too are seeking a greater unity. What are you holding onto today that is keeping you from achieving this great unity in your life? Unity with your spouse, family, loved ones, or church? What is the space that you are refusing to yield so that you can be a part of the chain?

Perhaps you are holding onto the need to be right. This can be a very difficult one to let go. Being right is so great. But it is also alienating. If you are right, and you know the kind of right I am talking about, then that means that someone else is wrong, or at fault, or to blame. There is a marriage therapy quote that says that you can be right or happy. Often you cannot be both. How much could be achieved if you gave up the need to come out on top? What kind of connection could you make if you did not have to be insistent on being right.

Perhaps you are holding onto worry. Anyone ever worry, concern yourself about something that has not even happened yet. Here’s a little poem for you...

A bit of worry I suppose,

Will keep you up on your toes.

But too much and you will find,

You will almost lose your mind.

Worries isolate us. They put us in our head and keep us from trusting those around us to support us. They can also get in the way of our relationship with God who we believe loves and cares for us. For those of you who cannot let your worries go, I invite you to do this little task. Carry a little book with you and any time you are worried about something, write it in the book. At the end of the week, look in the book and see how many of those things actually happened. I predict that you will find that it is a very small percentage. What would happen if you gave up some of these worries and united with those around you in trust and support?

         Perhaps you are holding onto grudges. Anyone have one of these? It is a great word that sounds like what it is: a big muddy thing that is hard to move. It can also be a great hindrance to unity. Marriages, families, friendships and even churches break up because people hold onto resentments that they can never get past. After all, anger is easy. Retribution is easy. But it is not fulfilling. In retribution there is no closure, no peace. Any reader of Batman can tell you that. Peace can only come through forgiveness. And this may be the hardest thing on the list. Forgiveness is difficult. But it is also liberating and not just for the one being forgiven, but for the one doing the forgiving as well. If the whole human race could live with the practice of forgiveness, think of how united we could be.

         So today I ask you, do you feel the kind of unity that the psalmist was speaking about all those years ago? If not, what’s holding you back? When the first century believers posed this question, the most obvious answer was their possessions. And we can choose to stop there. Or we can delve deeper and try to understand what was really going on with them in this story. They were not just giving up their stuff. They were giving up a piece of their lives. They gave of themselves for love, for equality, and for unity. Those are the true economics of Easter.   

Wilderness Sermon, by Chris.

Anyone remember the days of radio? Do you remember the show Dragnet? It started out as a radio program and then moved to TV and the movies. The main character Joe Friday was a police detective and was famous for his catch phrase. Anyone remember it? “Just the Facts Ma’am.” That’s right, No embellishments. No opinions. Just the facts. I think that Mark, our gospel writer this morning, would have appreciated Joe Friday. Mark writes this gospel in a Dragnet sort of way. Just the facts. Quick clean.

It starts with a Baptism. A humble quiet Jesus comes to his cousin, wild man John, and asks to be baptized. He then goes immediately into the wilderness for 40 days. He is tempted by Satan and waited on by angels. And at the end of the story he emerges and is ready to proclaim the good news, ready to bring about the kingdom of God. Quick simple. Just the facts. But if you are like me, it makes you wonder, what really happened in that wilderness?

The wilderness story is the one that begins our Lenten season. And like Lent, we could look at this story in many different ways. We could see it as a solemn time of reflection. We could see it as a time of deprivation and suffering. But I like to think of it as adventure. And when I think of adventure, I start getting the John Williams music in my head. (cue music). For those of you who do not know, John Williams who turned 80 this year, is a composer who has written just about every adventure movie score in the modern era. Superman, Harry Potter, Jaws, E.T., Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones and or course Star Wars. Basically, if you were going to have an adventure, you would want John Williams to write the music for it. When I hear it, I think of all of the great heroes that have had adventures before me. Heroes like Odysseus, Joan of Arc, and of course, Indiana Jones.

If you have ever read Joseph Campbell’s book, The Hero with a Thousand Faces, you will know that many heroes follow the same path, what they call the hero’s journey. See if you think this matches Jesus’ adventures in the wilderness. The hero leaves home, goes into a place that he or she has never been, encounters many trials, gets help from unexpected places, and returns changed. I think, using this formula, we might delve deeper into Mark’s story and find the adventure of Lent.

The first stage of the hero’s journey is leaving home. Now home can be a literal home or it can be a figurative one. Most of the time it is both. Odysseus begins his journey on an island far away from the love of his family. Joan of Arc leaves her meager farm life to join the ranks of the French Army. And Indiana Jones is supposed to be a teacher, but you how often do you see him in a classroom. At the beginning of our scripture today it says that Jesus came from Nazareth which was his home. He leaves his place of upbringing to come and be baptized. But not by a rabbi. He goes to this wild man John who has been living out in the middle of nowhere eating honey and locusts. It was at the very least unconventional. So Jesus leaves his literal home, and the home of convention. But he goes a step further. He leaves civilization entirely and goes out into the wilderness. Mark writes that the Spirit drove him there. Well, the Spirit could not have picked a place more un-homey place.

This is the second phase of our hero’s journey, strange lands. The wilderness. Now some scholars think that the wilderness Jesus went to was a rocky region, but when I think of the wilderness I think of desert. Barren expansive desert like the one on the front of the bulletin. Now don’t get me wrong, I love the image of the wilderness. It is powerful and spiritual. The wilderness is a paradox. It is everything that is nothing. It is a place where people cannot be, and yet Jesus is there. It is a place that does not support life, and yet it fosters growth. It is special. That is why it is such a great image for the start of Lent. That is why it is such a good place to begin transformation. Think about it. In the wilderness there is no distraction. No development. There is silence. And there is also no judgment. No preconceived notion. No opinions. It is untouched. It simply is. On a spiritual level, this wilderness is a reflection of our inner selves. There is a place in us that seeks to do away with what has been built up. There is a place that seeks to put an end to judgment. An end to opinions, noise and clutter that fill up our souls. To get back to what is simple, what is purely ourselves. To simply be.

The wilderness is a tough place, no doubt. But on some level it has to be. If it were fertile, if it were habitable, if it were easy, then it would cease to be special. It would become like every other place and it would lose its purpose. It must remain tough in order to be true.

Lent is similar. It may be challenging, but that is what makes it special, set apart from the rest of the year. Lent affords us the opportunity to take a reflective journey, to evaluate from where we have come, where we are, and where we hope to go. Perhaps today you are dealing with great stress. This time is an opportunity to sit with it and transform it. Perhaps you are holding onto great anger. This is a time to reflect on where that anger comes from, acknowledge it and let it go. Perhaps there are struggles and fears that perplex you and keep you up at night. Lent is a time to face those fears, and overcome them. That is what we mean by transformation.

As you may have noticed, time in the wilderness is not all quiet and easy. At no point in the story does it say that Jesus was on vacation. Quite the contrary. It says that he was tempted by Satan. As if the wilderness itself wasn’t enough.

This takes us to the third part of the hero’s journey, trials. Without tests the hero cannot prove his worth. Odysseus had to resist temptation from the Sirens and take down the mighty Cyclops. Joan of Arc had to face the skepticism of her commanders not to mention the armies of the British. And Indiana Jones? Well, aside from a giant boulder chasing him, he has those pesky Nazis to deal with.

Jesus’s trial is the temptation by Satan. Now Luke and Matthew expand on the story with a bunch of details, but Mark keeps it simple. Just the facts ma’am. He simply says Jesus was tempted, which leaves us to wonder, what was so tempting? Was it the gift of cool satisfying water? Was it delectable morsels of delicious food? Certainly these would have been tempting after days living with nothing. But I think that something more crossed the exchange of Jesus and Satan.

I picture Jesus sitting alone in the rocky barren wilderness thinking about all that he was to accomplish. As his ministry unfolds before him, he starts to see the grandness of its scope and difficulty. All that he is to do and all that he is to be begins to appear insurmountable. Perhaps a bead of fearful sweat emits from his brow. And at the moment Satan appears with a great offer. Satan says to him, “Just forget about it. Give up. Nobody is making you do this. You really do not have to.”

Have you ever faced this? I call it the give up voice. When something gets a bit uncomfortable or difficult it pipes up. “Hello? Yes, it is me, the voice of ease. What you are doing is too hard. Stop now, okay.” For some of us, Lent represents more than a time of reflection. It represents difficulty. It is hard to look at ourselves. It is hard to make the changes that we need to make in order to become the people we are meant to be. The give up voice says, “Ugh, forget this. Just wait until Easter when everything is cheery and white.” The journey through the wilderness and the journey through Lent is a time of talking back to that voice, telling it that we are going to go ahead and persevere. To create transformation, we have to begin with perseverance. That is the reaction Jesus has to Satan. He does not give up. He does not give in. That is what makes him the hero of the adventure.

Though we often associate the time in the wilderness as alone time, the text does mention that there is some company. It says that angels waited upon him. The fourth stage in our hero’s journey is one marked by spiritual helpers. Odysseus gets a boost from some of the gods like Athena who is his biggest fan, and Hermes who comes to get him off of the island. Joan of Arc famously had visions of Saints guiding her in France’s conquest. And Indiana Jones is aided by the magical and mysterious artifacts that he finds. Jesus has angels waiting on him. Again Mark is sparse in his description, but I think that this was more than just some heavenly room service.

Whatever the purpose of the angels, we can assume that they were caretakers. This is an encouraging detail because it reminds us that we are not completely alone on our spiritual journey. Though we must face our temptations and our trials ourselves, there is assistance to provide care and help if we need it. Angels are everywhere. This is obvious to anyone who has been through serious illness or grief in this church. It never ceases to warm my heart at the outpouring of support that people offer one another. Like angels in the desert they come, providing food, support, companionship, and even just a hug. There are angles in the face of adversity. Mark knew it, and I know it too.

Another detail worth mentioning is that the angels come after the temptation with Satan. Like in the hero’s journey, there are trials before there are helpers. The angels are not there to make everything easy. They are there to assist when things get too difficult. It says that they provide care, not answers. That is something only the hero can discover when they overcome the trials set before them.

The last stage of the hero’s journey is the return. The hero does not stay on this journey forever. The tests and temptations result in a breakthrough that creates the person that they always knew that they could be. Like the butterfly that emerges from the cocoon, they return home to show their true self to the people that they left. Odysseus returns to his wife a changed man, Joan of Arc returns to stand trial as an empowered and invigorated woman, and Indiana Jones? Well, he begins his journey as an atheist, but does not end it that way. At the end of the Mark passage today, Jesus returns from the wilderness with a definitive proclamation, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’ Now, does this sound like someone who is trying to discover himself? No, of course not. This is not the same man that was quietly seeking Baptism from his cousin 40 days earlier. He has persevered through hardship. He has resisted the temptation to give up. He has been transformed. Before the people stands a fully realized person ready to begin his ministry and be an example to all.

For those of us take this journey into the wilderness there is great potential for transformation. How will you emerge from the end of Lent this year? Will you risk transformation? Will you venture into the wilderness and dare to look into yourself? Will you face your fears and your dreams with the potential to be what God truly wants you to be? If you do, I warn you it will not be easy. You will face demons and trials. You will face temptation. You will face the give up voice. But if you persevere, if you dare to adventure, then you will tap into great potential. You will see yourself as God sees you. You will be a person that you were born to be. You can be the hero. If you believe you can, say amen.