Monday, September 21, 2015

Sept 20, 2015 Sermon: "Humility: Liberation from Me-First Thinking"

Stephen Baldwin
OT: Psalm 1
NT: Mark 9.30-37
Humility: Liberation from Me-First Thinking

            Today, Dr. William Hood is a retired professor of art history at the Oberlin College in Ohio.  But in the late 1960s, he was a college student who had a chance encounter with a larger than life figure.  He tells a story about that encounter which was brought to my mind by this week’s reading from Mark. 
            In 1968, Hood was a college student in Atlanta.  He attended a small dinner party with a few friends.  To his great surprise, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his wife Coretta also attended.  When the Kings arrived, the whole room grew still.  After all, they were national figures, and here they were at a dinner party.  The college students were afraid to say a word, and the host was in the kitchen.  So naturally, it was the dog, a corgi, who greeted them first.  Coretta King knelt down to rub his belly while Martin took their coats to the closet.  They offered Coretta a drink, very well aware of the fact that she was the wife of a Baptist minister, so they made sure to say they had non-alcoholic options.  She said she’d have a Coke. 
            Martin returned to the room, and they offered him a drink as well.  He said, “Are there any Baptists here?” 
            They said, “No sir, we’re Episcopalians.” 
            “Well in that case,” said Martin, “I’ll have a scotch on the rocks!”  And Coretta said she’d have a sherry instead of that Coke. 
            Hood found himself amazed at the King’s humility.  Even though they were on television and in the papers, at the dinner party they were just like everyone else.  When the conversation turned serious, everyone looked to Martin for his views on the Vietnam War, poverty, and race.  But he didn’t want the conversation to be about him and his work.  Instead, he turned to Hood—a young man he’d only met that night, a college student he would never see again, looked him directly in the eye, and said, “Tell me what you’re studying and why.”  And then he listened. 
As Hood tells it, King looked at him with a keen intensity that let him know he was actually listening, caring, and wanting to know who this young man was and what he intended to do with his life.  He described the humility he saw in King as a kind of energy that had a liberating effect on everyone in the room. 
            Who are some of the most humble people you’ve known in your life?  Seriously, I want to know.  Tell us.  Inspire us!  Make those humble souls blush by naming them! 
            Now think about that person you mentioned or thought about.  What made them humble?  It’s sort of hard to describe humility.  You know it when you see it, but it’s hard to describe positively.  Jesus describes humility this way: "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." 
            If you’ve grown up in church, you’ve heard that same idea hundreds of times.  The first will be last…and the last will be first.  But what did Jesus mean by that in his culture?  Everybody knew who the “first” were.  The wealthy.  There was no middle class in Jesus’ day.  Zero.  Zilch.  Nada.  In his day, there were the landowners and everyone else.  The 1% owned everything, including the other 99% of the population.  There was no Galilean Dream where you could work your way up out of poverty if you got a corporate job and invested your money.  So the first were the select few wealthy landowners, and the last was everybody else.  Jesus’ message, in that world, was that whoever wants to be first must be last of all.  Why would Jesus preach that to his disciples?  What would be so important about humility? 
            Because their society viewed wealth as an indication of importance, and he turned that idea on its head.  For Jesus, putting others before yourself is what really makes your important.  Humility.  If you were rich, you could be first in God’s eyes by serving your less fortunate brothers and sisters.  And if you were the 99% who was always lasts in this life, you could be first too…by humbly serving your neighbors.  In that way, Jesus’ message was for everyone in every circumstance.  The humility he preached knew no bounds whatsoever. 
            He even practiced it himself!  When he healed someone, what did he tell them?  “Please don’t say anything about this to anyone else.  There’s no need to call attention.”  When he’d had a long day and would rather just take a nap but someone came to him with a sick little girl, what did he do?  He put the nap on hold and healed the child. 
            This week I read a definition of humility in Psychology Today, and it said this:  Humility is a state of freedom from me-first thinking, which our culture teaches us to do at every possible turn.  A state of freedom from me-first thinking.  Does that sound good to you?  Sounds great to me.            
            Remember Hood in the room with King…where he said King’s humility had a liberating effect on him…did the humility of your heroes have a liberating effect on you?  Did it make you feel like anything was possible? 
            I’ve been thinking this week…what if the church was more humble?  What if we as a people, as an institution, were liberated from me-first thinking?  It’s no secret that most of our churches were built for three or four times the people who attend today.  We argue all the time about why that is.  Is it because we’ve taken stands on social issues?  Or because we’ve failed to speak up people are hurting?  Is it because people are just too busy these days?  Or is it because we’re too busy taking care of aging buildings to do ministry?  I think it’s much simpler than that.  We’ve been too busy trying to be first instead of being last. 
            Our call is not to be the biggest or the best or the most attractive.  Our call is not to be the most glitzy or shiny church on the block.  Our call is not to be the “it” church.  Doesn’t it feel liberating to have that weight lifted from your shoulders?  It allows you to relax and be who you were called to be.  Last! 
            Reinhold Niebuhr, the great American theologian, taught that humility was an ethic.  That infers it’s not a choice you make but a constant series of choices you make over a long period of time.  A series of habits strung together.  A pattern…with a surprising result. 
            The surprising result of humility is not meek, mild, lowliness.  The humble are not weak.  Bring back to mind that example of humility you mentioned or thought of before.  That was not a self-conscious, weak person, was it?  Our society thinks of humility in those terms, but they couldn’t be more wrong.  The humble are confident.  The humble are liberated.  They have peace of mind and heart.  Like a child who will dance to their heart’s delight even when everyone is watching, the humility of Christ liberates each of us to be first in God’s eyes.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.   

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Sept 13, 2015 Sermon: "A Savior, Coming of Age"

Stephen Baldwin
OT: Proverbs 1.20-33
NT: Mark 8.27-38
A Savior, Coming of Age             

            Do you think Jesus always knew who he was?  Did he know as a boy that could heal the sick?  Was he aware as a young adult that he would soon die?  Did his mother or the Holy Spirit tell him how it would all happen?  These may seem like silly questions, but I bet most of us assume he did.  But just because you know something’s going to happen doesn’t mean that you’re ready for it. 
            You still scream at scary movies, even though you know something is going to pop out of the darkness.  You still cry at romantic comedies, even though you know they will live happily ever after.  You still get nervous for the good guys in superhero movies, even though you know they always beat the bad guys.  Just because you know what’s going to happen doesn’t mean you know how it’s going to happen.  Even though Jesus knows who he is, that doesn’t mean he’s ready for it.  Remember he is fully human, too. 
            According to Mark, it all began with the Spirit descending as a dove on Jesus, signaling God’s favor in his life.  No birth story.  No manger or star.  No donkey and no Joseph being turned down at the inn.  Just the Spirit descending like a dove.  It was an outward symbol of an inward truth—the child was special.  But that didn’t preclude him from the same troubles as everyone else.  Not only was it just as hard for him to ask Mary to the school dance as every other awkward teenager boy, but he dealt with deeper problems too.    
            He wasn’t like the others.  His family told the community he must be crazy, for they had no explanation for his outlandish behavior—turning water into wine and “pretending” to know more than the teachers.  They were tired of having to answer for him, so they disowned him.  In response, he did what most other young men would do in that situation, he returned fire with fire, disowning his family and hitting the road with some half-hearted fishermen for friends.  The only cousin who had really understood him, John, lived out in the woods with only his beard and locusts for company.   
            Yet, the boy growing into a man was fully God too.  He was doing things no one else could do, and people were talking.  That dove’s appearance might not have been a coincidence after all.  Everywhere he went, people paid attention.  They practiced his teachings.  They looked to his guidance.  They brought him their sick.  And he always came through. 
            But what goes up must come down, and so did Jesus.  John was captured by the Romans and beheaded at a party, as if it was entertainment for the royals.  Jesus tried to get away with his disciples, but they couldn’t get far enough away.  He fed thousands.  He rescued the disciples from a raging sea.  Then he met a Gentile woman who wanted his help.  He said no, because she wasn’t Jewish.  Then she opened his eyes to the absurdity of that idea, and he realized the breadth of his mission was much greater than he had realized. 
            If Jesus knew who he was, then why did he ask the disciples in the midst of all this chaos, “Who am I?”  Perhaps he just wanted to test them.  See what they would say.  Discern if they knew more than they let on.  Find out what they were telling other people.  But I think it was an honest question.  He wanted confirmation from his friends that he was who he had become—Son of God, healer of the sick, friend of Jews and Gentiles, Savior of us all. 
            It wasn’t an identity crisis.  He always knew who he was.  It was a coming of age.  He became who he knew he always was. 
            I find Jesus’ coming of age remarkably comforting, because he was a human, too.  If even he didn’t always have everything figured out, then maybe there’s hope for me.  For my disorganized desk and my best intentions left unfulfilled and my hurtful words.  Maybe there’s hope for us.  For our broken relationships and our unfulfilling jobs and our unknown mistakes.  We may not yet be who were born to be, but there’s still time.  Hope is alive.  Just like Jesus, we are coming of age. 
            Fourteen years after 9/11, some people look at the world and see a world unhinged.  They see division and hatred and enmity.  There’s no denying  that, but I hear a voice louder than all those who are shouting. 
I hear Jesus asking, “Who do you say I am?”  He asks that to remind us that he is the Messiah, who has saved us all already. 
“Who do you say I am?”  He asks that to remind us that he had to come of age, just like we do.
“Who do you say I am?” He asks us that to remind us to be hopeful.  Coming of age takes time. 
            Did you notice that Jesus himself, even once the disciples confirm who he is, tells them not to tell anyone else?  Why would he do that?  Because the Son of God doesn’t do it for the glory; he does it to the glory of God.  There is honor in letting your actions speak for themselves without commentary or adulation. 

            As we all come of age—as we grow over time into the people we were created to be, no matter our age—take hope in knowing that it takes time.  Take hope in being aware that who you are reflects to the world the good God who made you.  Take hope in the Messiah, for this is his world.  Take hope.  Amen.              

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Sept 6, 2015 Sermon: "You're Not You When You're Exhausted"

Stephen Baldwin
NT: Mark 7.24-37
You're Not You When You're Exhausted
                       
            For some reason this week, I’ve been thinking about statues.  Like Michael Jordan’s statue in Chicago that shows him in his famous jumpman pose.  Or Rocky’s statue in Philedelphia at the top of the Art Museum steps which shows him in his victorious boxing pose.  Or John Henry’s statue here in southern WV which shows him with a hammer in his hand, commemorating the time he outworked a machine.  Statues always show people doing what they did best. 
            Have you ever wondered what your statue would look like?  Leah would be playing a harp.  Rodger’s statue would have to be motorized so it could rock as he played the piano.  And Kerry, my wife’s statue, would show her sleeping.  That is, according to her, what she does best.  We once took a trip to China together in college, and when we returned she asked me to show her my pictures. 
            “Here you are asleep on the train to Nanjing.  Here you are asleep on the plane to Tibet.  Here you are asleep on the yak riding over the Himilayas.  Here you are asleep on the Buddha’s belly in the monastery.”  I thought she would be mad at me for taking all those pictures, but when I turned around for her reaction…she was asleep! 
            The statue I’ve thought of most this week is Jesus on a mountaintop overlooking Rio de Janerio, Brazil.  His arms are outstretched, as if he’s welcoming the whole world into his arms.  That shows him at his best.  Practicing radical inclusion.  Welcoming any and everyone into his family. 
            That made me think about the way Jesus is often memorialized.  Whether it’s statues or paintings or stained glass, Jesus is always helping others--healing the sick, feeding the 5,000, baptizing the masses.  When we think of Jesus, we usually think of him helping others.    
            That’s why today’s story is so odd.  A woman comes to him for help, and he rejects her…sarcastically, nonetheless.  That’s not the Jesus we know.  So what’s going on in here?
             According to Mark, several important things have recently happened in Jesus’ life.  His cousin and mentor, John the Baptist, was recently murdered brutally by the government.  He tried to take his disciples out of town after that to get some rest and relaxation since they were being following night and day by people asking for help, but they couldn’t escape the crowds.  Thousands found them, and Jesus fed them all with five loaves and two fish.  When they left there, a terrible storm arose on the sea, prompting Jesus to walk on water in order to calm and save the disciples in their boat. 
            My point is that by Mark 7, Jesus is exhausted.  Exhausted by death and travel and healings and feedings.  Exhausted.  Verse 24 says he went to the region of Tyre, which was a significant distance from his home base.  He walked miles and miles to get there.  It was a port city where Jews would have gone for vacation but never would have lived.  Gentiles lived there, and Jews only went there to get away.  So this was a place Jesus wouldn’t have been as well known.  A place he could maybe get some rest.  He ducks into a house, hoping to have a moment to himself, and the Syrophoenician woman finds him.  Even though she’s a Gentile, she knows exactly who he is, and she wants his help with her sick daughter. 
We’ve heard this story before.  Woman approaches Jesus.  Has a sick relative.  Asks for help.  We know what’s supposed to happen next.  He’s supposed to help her.  That’s what he does.  Except, he refuses to help the Syrophoenician woman. 
            He says, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs.”  Something may be lost in translation there…some saying with which we are unfamiliar today…but it’s pretty clear what he means.  He won’t help her.   Why not?   
            Because when we’re exhausted, we do things we wouldn’t normally do and say things we wouldn’t normally say.  Jesus is exhausted, and in that moment of weakness he says something he wouldn’t normally say. 
            As soon as the woman turns his sarcastic response on its head, though, he realizes his mistake and helps her daughter.  If you’ve ever lost your cool in a moment of exhaustion or anxiety, you know it only takes a small trigger to bring you back to reality.
            And for Jesus, reality is marked by radical inclusion. Like his statue overlooking Brazil, Jesus’ open arms welcome all those who have ears to hear.  His open arms beckon those whose eyes see him.  His open arms call to all of us, promising peace and respite from a raging world that can leave us all feeling like Jesus did when he took an impromptu beach trip to Tyre.  

            As Paul writes in Galatians, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”  All of us…are one…in Christ Jesus.  Praise be to God.  Amen.   

Monday, August 24, 2015

Aug 23, 2015 Sermon: "Marriage: Going Against the Grain"

Stephen Baldwin
OT: Joshua 24.1-2a, 14-18
NT: Ephesians 5.21-33
Marriage: Going Against the Grain 

I officiate my fair share of weddings.  One of the many things couples often agonize over is which Scriptures to read at their wedding, so I make suggestions to them.  Today’s reading from Ephesians is about husbands and wives, but it is not one I have ever recommended for a wedding.  Let’s read it. 

How many of you have heard that at a wedding?  I have.  Perhaps you read it at your own wedding.  I don’t suggest it to couples because not because it’s out of place at a wedding but because I’ve heard such horrible sermons about it in the past from people who completely misunderstand it.  I actually think it could be a beautiful wedding scripture, but we need to set some things straight first. 
First, men and women were both created equally in God’s image.  According to Genesis, both were created by God out of love.  One is not more important than the other.  They are equal.  For crying out loud, if I hear one more time that it was Eve’s fault that Adam ate the fruit I think I’ll just go sit under an apple tree.  Because being hit on the head by falling apples would be less painful than having that conversation again.  They both ate the fruit. 
Second, don’t pick and choose.  This is one of those infamous passages people like to pull one sentence out of and therefore totally miss the point.  And you can guess how that goes.  Guys pull out verse 22: Wives, be subject to your husbands.  Ladies pull out verse 25: Husbands, love your wives just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.  And somehow those verses become weapons we launch at one another in moments of anger or disappointment. You can’t pick and choose one verse from a larger context.  This passage is about something much bigger.
Third, this is about marriage.  Not just marriage in a general religious sense, but marriage in the ancient world in a legal sense.  Our society is once again fighting about the legalities and religious nature of marriage, and guess what…that’s nothing new!  Two thousand years ago, Romans and Greeks and Jews all lived in the same communities but had different ideas about marriage.  What a shocker! 
According to historical records from the time of Ephesians, marriage regulations existed for three main groups of people--Romans, Greeks, and Jews.  Romans were Roman citizens.  People of the Roman empire.  A married Roman woman was considered legally subject to either her father or her husband.  But if she was not married and had no living father, a Roman woman was considered legally independent and lived subject to no one.  As a result, marriage wasn’t very popular.  Women chose not be married, so the Emperor Augustus passed a new Roman law requiring men and women of a certain age to marry.  The law even required those who divorced or were widows to remarry within a certain time frame.  So if you’re upset about the state getting too involved in marriage today, know that it was way worse in ancient Rome. 
In Greek culture, it was ever worse for women.  Aristotle taught that women were by nature inferior to men, and therefore wives should submit to husbands.  There was no follow-up saying husbands should submit to wives.  Their law simply said that wives must submit to husbands.  They were to do so even if the husband was unfaithful, as it was common and accepted practice for husbands to engage in casual adultery with slave girls.  And this week we learned things haven’t really changed that much, as 40 million people’s names were hacked from a website called Ashley Madison that sells affairs for married people.  
Last but not least, in Jewish marriages, marriage was technically viewed from a legal point of view as a transference of property.  Everything she owned belonged to her husband.  However, a Jewish husband did have to sign a marriage contract (a pre-nup, if you will) saying that in the event of his death everything that belonged to him would be hers.  Believe it or not, that was progressive for the day!
Now that all the women in church today are sufficiently offended and the men are sufficiently frightened as a result of their wife’s offense, let’s talk about where Ephesians fits into this scenario. 
New Testament scholar Craig Keener says that in such a context where women were routinely viewed as inferior to men, it wouldn’t have been surprising for anyone to read verse 22: Wives, submit to your husbands.  That would have been common practice anyway. 
But to tell husbands to submit to their wives as in verse 25, to love them as Christ loved, that was a radical redefinition of the way their culture viewed marriage!  The man who society told to be head of the household was instead being told by God to be its servant.  God is full of surprises!  The Bible is rarely what it seems and never the same as the world around it, because it is a counter-cultural book.  It goes against the grain. 
So the next time you’re at a wedding where this is read or you’re in a heated conversation where you start throwing around Bible verses like swords, “Wives should submit to their husbands…husbands should submit to their wives,” remember the radical and counter-cultural intent of Ephesians—to throw society’s notion of one gender being dominant over the other out the window.  Instead, Ephesians tells us, “Be subject to one another.”  Only those who are equals can be subject to one another. 
That’s why I think it could actually be a powerful wedding scripture.  God leads us to view our partner as an equal to whom we mutually submit in love for a lifetime.  But it can also be a powerful testimony to a church family. 
Do you remember what reason Ephesians gives after it says, “Be subject to one another.”  It says, “Be subject to one another…out of reverence for Christ.”  As we discussed last week, reverence is more than respect, different from fear.  It’s a sense of utter astonishment.  We are subject to one another because we are in total awe of Jesus Christ, and if he loves us then what business do any of us have doing anything except loving one another, treating one another as equals, and being subject to one another in mutual relationships? 

Amen.  

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Aug 16, 2015 Sermon: "Fear the Lord"

Stephen Baldwin
OT: Psalm 34.8-14
NT: Ephesians 5.15-20
Fear the Lord

People often ask me if I get nervous preaching every week.  No.  Not nervous.  But my knees do tremble.  And my heart sometimes flutters.   That’s because, as today’s Psalm says, I fear the Lord.  When I was a child, I loathed that phrase, for I could not imagine why anyone would be afraid of the God who loves and cares for us?  But my mind has changed over the years. 
            How do you feel about it?  Do you fear God?  Over and over, mostly in the Old Testament, the ancient authors admonish us, “Fear the Lord.”  For those who fear God want for nothing.  The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.  Preachers who like to wag their fingers in your face often say with a red face and a stern voice that they want to put the fear of God in people in their sermons.  In our faith, to fear the Lord is seen as a great virtue.    
            So it was a surprise to me to learn this week what the most frequent commandment in the whole Bible is:  “Do not fear.”  Seventy-five times the Bible tells us, “Do not fear.”  Do not fear, for I am with you.  Do not fear or be dismayed.  Do not fear; I will help you.  That command occurs more frequently than all others…by a country mile. 
            So which is it—to fear or not to fear?  Shakespeare famously asked, “To be or not to be?  That is the question.”  But for Christians, “To fear or not to fear?  That is the question.” 
            There are many things of which we are afraid, and I’m not just talking about fair traffic and eating one too many Ben Ellen donuts before hopping on the tilt-a-whirl.  We’re afraid of death, so much so that we’re sometimes afraid to live.  We’re afraid of terror, so much so that we’re afraid to leave our comfort zone.  But afraid of God?  Do we cower in fear of the Lord?  Do we fear God’s punishment and wrath?  Do we fear God like we would fear our worst enemy?  I hope not. 
            The verb “to fear” in the Hebrew language of the Old Testament can take on different meanings in different contexts.  In the verses when it commands, “Do not fear,” it clearly means that we should not be afraid of the little things in this life, for they are little things.  Do not be afraid of what people think of you.  Do not be afraid of the darkness of the night.  Do not be afraid of what you do not know.     
            But when it says, “Fear the Lord,” it takes on an entirely different context.  It means, “Revere the Lord.  Respect the Lord.  Be in awe of God’s majesty.”  You see, the verbs “to fear” and “to see” are nearly identical, and that points to their similarity, for in the sight of God fear becomes reverence.  Once you see life as God sees it, then everything changes.  You revere every blade of grass.  You respect every life.  You are in total awe of God’s grace in every breath. 
            For some folks, that’s the end of the lesson.  When the Bible says, “Fear the Lord,” they hear, “Respect the Lord.”  Be reverent.  Come to church.  Sit quietly.  But that doesn’t grasp the fullness of the teaching.  Someday I believe we will meet our maker, and I doubt respect or reverence even begins to cover what we will need to show on that day. 
            The best illustration I’ve ever known of what it means to fear the Lord comes from The Lion, the Witch, & the Wardrobe by CS Lewis.  It’s an allegory about Christianity set to a children’s story.  The main character is a lion named Aslan who dies so that others might live before being resurrected.  But before the children meet Aslan, they’re very curious to know what he is like since they have heard so many stories.  One child asks, “Is he a man?” 
“Aslan a man!  Certainly not.  I tell you he is King of the wood and the son of the great emperor-beyond-the-sea. Don’t you know who is the King of the Beasts? Aslan is a lion – the Lion, the great lion.”
“Ooh!” said the child, “Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you will, dearie, and no mistake.  If there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t safe?” said the child.
“Safe?  Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”
At the risk of sounding too much like a preacher, I think that sense of fear and reverence for God is at risk.  We treat God like a WalMart which is open 24/7, gives us just what we want for a few bucks, and never asks anything in return.  We treat God like a genie in the bottle, and the truth is that we prefer for God to stay in the bottle instead of coming out and changing things.  We treat God like a lion at the zoo that is neither feared nor respected but simply gazed upon now and then when we feel like it behind the safety of fences. 
We need to do better.  In our prayers.  In our songs.  In our worship.  In our outreach.  In our ministry.  In our relationships.

We need to do better.  For God’s sake, because God deserves it.  But for our own sake as well.  By fearing and respecting God, our lives necessarily take on a certain order.  We recognize God’s place at the top of our lives, and the rest falls into place.  We find contentment with who we are, where we are, and whose we are.  We find joy in everyday blessings.  We find wisdom in knowing our place in God’s world.  It’s the way of life described in Ephesians.  A way of life tempered with a healthy dose of both fear and respect that makes the most of our short time here on Earth.  Amen.  

Sunday, March 1, 2015

March 1, Regular Sunday Schedule

We are on a regular schedule today with Sinday School at 9:30am and worship at 11am. Ronceverte Hill is clear, and the side roads have just a dusting of snow. Parking is still limited, so please use our lot, open street spots, and the manse driveway.