WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
May 22, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
1 Peter 2:2-10; Acts 7:55-60
“Discipleship is Foolishness”
Discipleship is foolish to us, foolish to the world, and it was foolish to the first disciples.
That is the foundation of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. Who wants to sign on? It is foolish to the world because Jesus does not use his privilege for power and glory. It is foolish to the first disciples because they expected Jesus to act with power and glory for them, and it is foolishness to us when we finally come face to face with the teachings of Jesus. So with that as in introduction, let me say some things about why it is foolishness to each.
Foolish to the first disciples
In order to understand the stoning of Stephen, we have to go back to the beginning of the book of Acts. Jesus has been crucified, resurrected and ascended to the heavens. The disciples were alone, waiting. The promise of the Holy Spirit hung in the air with expectation. But what would a life in the Spirit look like? They had no idea, so the disciples go back to what they know. They go to managing, forming committees and creating an air of control in a time of uncertainty. They sound like good Presbyterians!
The disciples gathered together, looked around, and realized they needed someone to take the place of Judas. So they created a task force. This task force was commissioned with the responsibility of finding someone worthy to serve as a disciple. It is fascinating to see that the first impulse of these former outsiders was to figure out who was worthy enough to be an insider. They moved to time of prayer and study. And at the end, they took dice, rolled them and came up with Mathias.
A great deal of time and energy were put into filling the final seat of the official disciples. Jesus picked twelve Jewish men to be his disciples. So, it would be easy to see that the standard for leadership in the church would always be twelve Jewish men. Or so they thought. As a result of this flawed thinking the disciples appoint Mathias. And after all this energy and work to find someone worthy to serve, Mathias is never mentioned again in the Bible, ever. Keep this in mind as we move forward a few chapters.
The important work of preaching and teaching was only allowed for the select few. But, in order to do this important work, people had to make sure the food was served. So, servers were selected. And one of those selected for this less than glorious work, was a man by the name of Stephen. Show of hands, who has heard of the disciple Mathias? And who has heard of the first Christian martyr, Stephen? I do not think that is an accident. Let me tell you why.
The story of Stephen’s death reveals how easy it is for the followers of Jesus to get caught up in foolishness, thinking it is essential to ministry. While the disciples spend energy on filling positions, the most important witness to faithfulness comes from those who work in the kitchen. Jesus calls us all to serve and make disciples. Our response, in every age, is to substitute this work with management and attempts to control the uncertain places in our lives. Stephen’s story is not only important because he is the first martyr but because he points back to Jesus’ intention for the disciples. Stephen, the table server, is brought before the authorities and gives a testimony to his faith. This unlicensed preacher has the longest and most powerful sermon by anyone in all the book of Acts.
Add to this the strange familiarity of Stephen’s death and the message becomes clearer. He is brought before the authorities. He is taken out of the city and killed. And as Stephen is dying he commends his spirit to God, and he prays forgiveness for those who are killing him. Sound familiar? This is Jesus’ death. Jesus’ death came after he serves the disciples at the table. And his service to them was to show them that greatness in the kingdom comes from service and not from power and control. Stephen’s story is not simply the first in a long line of Christian martyrs, but a witness to the pitfalls and struggles for the followers of Jesus. When all else fails, when the message seems foolish, stop trying to control and manage, and find some way to serve others.
Foolish to the World
From the very beginning the message of Jesus was foolishness. After all, consider those whom he chose to spread the message. From all we can read, the founders of the church, the first generation of disciples were not the cream of the crop. They were not the best educated. In fact, most of them were illiterate. They did not have or had limited access to those in power. Judea was not the center of the universe, and Galilee had a poor reputation. And, the God they followed was executed in a humiliating manner. These are exactly the sorts of things that can make evangelism difficult. How do we clean that up, make it more appealing?
The church throughout the ages has worked to answer this question. We have used apologetics, to try and prove the foolishness is not really foolishness. We have created committees and structures and sought legitimacy from outside sources. But, in the end, the foolishness remains. God cannot be made relevant in a way that makes Christianity a nice addition to a well rounded and respected life. Jesus ministered to the wretched of the earth. Jesus ate with sinners, outcasts, and called for the end of purity codes and exclusion. And that is never going to be relevant in cultures which worship violence, domination, and power.
Foolishness to us
So we have some decisions to make. Will we come face to face with the foolishness? Will we come to grips with our own struggles with this story? Will we recognize that we are not as put together, competent as we would like? Will we recognize the places in our own lives where we have settled for management and control instead of service? In other words, are we going to serve or will we keep seeking our own Mathias who will be the magic bullet to make everything alright?
This may not sound like good news, but it has the power to transform our lives. Because God works with the humiliated and excluded, we have a story of radical inclusion. For some that will come as good news and for others it will be seen as foolishness. But the truth remains. We are welcomed into the household of God, not because we are good managers or competent or because we have worked hard enough. If we can truly grasp that and peel away the layers that we have carefully constructed to hide our deep seated insecurities, (big pause) transformation is possible. We have no need to hide from God, ultimately because in hiding, we are only hiding from ourselves. If we truly grasp this, we will be set free to do what God has been calling us to do all along: Serve people!
The stone that was rejected by the builders, the first disciples, the world, and even us, is the foundation for God’s kingdom. The rejected places of life, the rejected people in life and the rejected places in our lives are the foundation of the kingdom. What are the places in your life where you have been rejected? What has been said of you that is most destructive and feeds the self doubt or even the self hatred? What has been named as foolish by others, yourself and the world? Whatever it is, it can be transformed and used for the kingdom of God. Amen? Amen!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 08, 2011
What Do You Know?
WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
May 8th, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Third Sunday of Easter
Luke 24:13-35
“What Do You Know?”
As you might imagine, with three children, I watch a good bit of children’s television. The other day, I was watching Dora the Explorer. For those of you not well versed in children’s television programming, Dora the Explorer is a about a young Hispanic girl who has adventures with her animal friends. Each episode is set up with a problem that must be solved. It also encourages those watching to help in the problem solving. On this particular day, I noticed something new. When faced with the day’s challenge, Dora encourages everyone to take a step back, take a deep breath, and then try to solve the challenge. In this way, Dora says, we can solve any problem that comes our way.
It is not a bad lesson for adults as well as children. There are plenty of times in my own life where stepping back, taking a deep breath and focusing on what I know enables me to deal with a given problem in a more effective way. This is really what is happening to the disciples on the road to Emmaus. The disciples are talking about what happened in Jerusalem. They “hoped that (Jesus) was the one to redeem Israel.” But instead, Jesus was crucified. On top of that, there were these crazy stories about a missing body and angels. The disciples are so stuck in their grief, confusion, and even fear that they are unable to see Jesus standing in front of them. Jesus enters into conversation with them in order to help them step back, take a deep breath and focus on what they know. As a result, they are able to begin a process which leads them to see Jesus in the face of a stranger.
Jesus’ approach to this is to use questions. In doing so, he is able to change the conversation and their thinking. Each question comes across as innocent and simple; they cut deep. “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” It is so powerful and so revealing that the disciples stop. They are unable to move and their emotions rise to the surface. Jesus has asked them to confront their pain. But instead of confronting their pain, they respond out of anger. “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” When someone pushes us to confront that which we would rather leave buried, our reaction is often to attack the messenger. Yet, Jesus disarms the anger calmly and with one more innocent question. “What things?”
These “harmless and innocent” questions allow the disciples to confront and to speak their pain and disappointment. They are able to witness to this stranger the events of the last few days. Having given them room to share and witness, Jesus then finally challenges them. He does not allow them to stay in the places of their pain without giving them a framework for understanding. Jesus, too, seems a bit frustrated with the disciple’s inability to see what happened in Jerusalem as part of the bigger story. While the disciples can retell the events of the recent past, they cannot place the recent past in the context of the scriptures. This, I believe, is the struggle going on in many churches, particularly what is referred to as the old mainline churches.
How do I know? Ask enough of the right questions to those who know and have been involved over a long period of time in our church and our denomination, and you will hear stories about the loss. There is a real sense of loss around membership, loss of money, death, grief, and a desire not to deal with the deeper issues surrounding “these things.” We are able to recount the glory days of the church and denomination. But there is clear confusion around the future. It is as if we stand with Mary in the garden and ask, “Where did they put the body we once knew as the church?” Like the disciples on the road, we too are in need of the voice of visitors and strangers to ask us what we are talking about. We need the innocent questions that will help expose the places of our grief, loss, and pain before we can hear what is coming next.
For three years running the Southern Baptist Church has been losing membership as a denomination. That has gotten people worried. After all, when Presbyterians, Methodists, and Episcopalians lose membership it is because they are liberal and do not love Jesus or believe the bible. But what happens when good, bible believing denominations begin to decline? The excuse that the loss of membership was around theology is exposed for what it is, untrue. A growing number of religious and social historians believe that we are experiencing a shift in the faith similar to what happened during the reformation. What will come out of this shift? No one can predict with clarity. But, there are plenty of people making a good bit of money who believe they can.
This seismic shift may not seem like good news, but I think it is. If, when are able to admit that the “glory days” in our denomination and our church are over, we might finally hear what Jesus has to say, because when he speaks it isn’t always quite what we want to hear. “Oh, how foolish you have been, how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets declared.” When Jesus reveals the scriptures to the disciples he places their story of loss into a larger story of hope. So too, this is a message for the church. It is only then that we begin to understand our mini story within the setting of the larger story of our faith that we can see and hear the rich treasury in the scriptures that help us to deal with and name our losses. It is only then that we can see the cross and tomb as part of our story too. It is only then that we can hear that hope is possible, even when we cannot see it standing right in front of us.
Because the disciples stepped back, took a deep breath, and focused on what they knew, their eyes were finally opened. They had to confront their loss of hope before they could move beyond themselves. Before they could welcome this stranger in their midst they had to be honest about their struggles. And notice that when the disciples welcome the stranger he is not left on the periphery of the meal. The stranger ends up being the host at the table. What would have happened if the disciples had said to this stranger, “You are welcome to eat at this table, but this is our table and we have a certain way of doing things so until you figure that out you are not about to serve as the host!” Instead, they are open to allowing this stranger to use his gifts without trying to control him. Because of this, they finally can see what had been right in front of them all along.
Stepping back, taking a deep breath, and focusing on what we know is not just good advice for children. Before we can hear what we need to hear, before we can see what we need to see, before we can remember what we have already been taught, we have to step back and breathe. This story is about hearing the scriptures, welcoming strangers, and breaking bread. This is the work of the church. It is that simple. But, it is grounded on a story that begins with death and loss, on the cross, in our church, and in our own lives. So, let us never become unhinged by the recent news of loss but understand it as part of a greater story. Step back, take a deep breath, and focus on what we know. Amen? Amen!
May 8th, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Third Sunday of Easter
Luke 24:13-35
“What Do You Know?”
As you might imagine, with three children, I watch a good bit of children’s television. The other day, I was watching Dora the Explorer. For those of you not well versed in children’s television programming, Dora the Explorer is a about a young Hispanic girl who has adventures with her animal friends. Each episode is set up with a problem that must be solved. It also encourages those watching to help in the problem solving. On this particular day, I noticed something new. When faced with the day’s challenge, Dora encourages everyone to take a step back, take a deep breath, and then try to solve the challenge. In this way, Dora says, we can solve any problem that comes our way.
It is not a bad lesson for adults as well as children. There are plenty of times in my own life where stepping back, taking a deep breath and focusing on what I know enables me to deal with a given problem in a more effective way. This is really what is happening to the disciples on the road to Emmaus. The disciples are talking about what happened in Jerusalem. They “hoped that (Jesus) was the one to redeem Israel.” But instead, Jesus was crucified. On top of that, there were these crazy stories about a missing body and angels. The disciples are so stuck in their grief, confusion, and even fear that they are unable to see Jesus standing in front of them. Jesus enters into conversation with them in order to help them step back, take a deep breath and focus on what they know. As a result, they are able to begin a process which leads them to see Jesus in the face of a stranger.
Jesus’ approach to this is to use questions. In doing so, he is able to change the conversation and their thinking. Each question comes across as innocent and simple; they cut deep. “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” It is so powerful and so revealing that the disciples stop. They are unable to move and their emotions rise to the surface. Jesus has asked them to confront their pain. But instead of confronting their pain, they respond out of anger. “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” When someone pushes us to confront that which we would rather leave buried, our reaction is often to attack the messenger. Yet, Jesus disarms the anger calmly and with one more innocent question. “What things?”
These “harmless and innocent” questions allow the disciples to confront and to speak their pain and disappointment. They are able to witness to this stranger the events of the last few days. Having given them room to share and witness, Jesus then finally challenges them. He does not allow them to stay in the places of their pain without giving them a framework for understanding. Jesus, too, seems a bit frustrated with the disciple’s inability to see what happened in Jerusalem as part of the bigger story. While the disciples can retell the events of the recent past, they cannot place the recent past in the context of the scriptures. This, I believe, is the struggle going on in many churches, particularly what is referred to as the old mainline churches.
How do I know? Ask enough of the right questions to those who know and have been involved over a long period of time in our church and our denomination, and you will hear stories about the loss. There is a real sense of loss around membership, loss of money, death, grief, and a desire not to deal with the deeper issues surrounding “these things.” We are able to recount the glory days of the church and denomination. But there is clear confusion around the future. It is as if we stand with Mary in the garden and ask, “Where did they put the body we once knew as the church?” Like the disciples on the road, we too are in need of the voice of visitors and strangers to ask us what we are talking about. We need the innocent questions that will help expose the places of our grief, loss, and pain before we can hear what is coming next.
For three years running the Southern Baptist Church has been losing membership as a denomination. That has gotten people worried. After all, when Presbyterians, Methodists, and Episcopalians lose membership it is because they are liberal and do not love Jesus or believe the bible. But what happens when good, bible believing denominations begin to decline? The excuse that the loss of membership was around theology is exposed for what it is, untrue. A growing number of religious and social historians believe that we are experiencing a shift in the faith similar to what happened during the reformation. What will come out of this shift? No one can predict with clarity. But, there are plenty of people making a good bit of money who believe they can.
This seismic shift may not seem like good news, but I think it is. If, when are able to admit that the “glory days” in our denomination and our church are over, we might finally hear what Jesus has to say, because when he speaks it isn’t always quite what we want to hear. “Oh, how foolish you have been, how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets declared.” When Jesus reveals the scriptures to the disciples he places their story of loss into a larger story of hope. So too, this is a message for the church. It is only then that we begin to understand our mini story within the setting of the larger story of our faith that we can see and hear the rich treasury in the scriptures that help us to deal with and name our losses. It is only then that we can see the cross and tomb as part of our story too. It is only then that we can hear that hope is possible, even when we cannot see it standing right in front of us.
Because the disciples stepped back, took a deep breath, and focused on what they knew, their eyes were finally opened. They had to confront their loss of hope before they could move beyond themselves. Before they could welcome this stranger in their midst they had to be honest about their struggles. And notice that when the disciples welcome the stranger he is not left on the periphery of the meal. The stranger ends up being the host at the table. What would have happened if the disciples had said to this stranger, “You are welcome to eat at this table, but this is our table and we have a certain way of doing things so until you figure that out you are not about to serve as the host!” Instead, they are open to allowing this stranger to use his gifts without trying to control him. Because of this, they finally can see what had been right in front of them all along.
Stepping back, taking a deep breath, and focusing on what we know is not just good advice for children. Before we can hear what we need to hear, before we can see what we need to see, before we can remember what we have already been taught, we have to step back and breathe. This story is about hearing the scriptures, welcoming strangers, and breaking bread. This is the work of the church. It is that simple. But, it is grounded on a story that begins with death and loss, on the cross, in our church, and in our own lives. So, let us never become unhinged by the recent news of loss but understand it as part of a greater story. Step back, take a deep breath, and focus on what we know. Amen? Amen!
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Self-Imposed Fear
WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
May 1, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Communion Meditation
John 20:19-31
“Self Imposed Fear”
My two favorite Sundays of the year are the Sunday after Christmas and the Sunday after Easter. That may seem strange but it is true. It is not that I have something against Easter and Christmas. My reasons are pretty simple. Actually I only have one reason. The scriptures that follow the great celebrations of our faith are not very encouraging but they speak of a faith that is far more real.
On the Sunday following Christmas we hear the stories of King Herod killing babies to protect his power. The birth of Jesus is a joyous celebration but killing babies is not the story we like to tell on Christmas. Then, the Sunday following resurrection Sunday, the disciples are hiding behind locked doors in fear. They do not seem to trust one another when some start telling news they have seen the Lord. Frankly, is it any wonder why the attendance drops off on those two Sundays? Given the trouble in our own time it seems much easier to allow the church to become another place of distraction from all the trouble in our lives and the world.
Do not hear me wrong. There is much in our lives that elicits fear and finding a refuge from those things is not, in itself, wrong. Global warming, failed banks, falling housing prices, recession, increased violence in Iraq and Afghanistan. On a local level there is fear of rising waters, crime in our neighborhoods, personal health concerns, and even the future of our own community. Because of the many real fears in our lives when the peddlers of fear come knocking on our door it is easy to be wound up, caught up, and even act up out of our fears. That is why the story of the gospel is always – Do not fear.
Being aware of the power of fear and how it permeates our culture is vital for people who know the tomb is empty. Fear is a powerful motivator. You can rally people to war on unfounded rumors and fears. You can find people stocking up on duct tape one day and blaming gay and lesbian people the next for the downfall of the republic. Fear can help bring a government to its knees and fear can build powerful religious institutions. But usually, fear motivates in far more subtle ways. But the worst and most insidious fear is that which we internalize. What I mean by this are the fears we take from the peddlers of fear and make them our own.
Acting out of these fears is, I believe, the foundation for most of the worlds’ evils. And on a more personal level it leads us to close inward. We lose the ability to truly listen to others and we limit our creativity. If we are to break from that way of responding to the ways of fear our challenge and calling is to lead with faith and belief in something powerful and worthy that draws us toward a higher goal and not against the most recent real or imagined threat.
A few years ago I read a book by Debra Dickerson called An American Story. It is a memoir of her experience of growing up in north Saint Louis at the end of the 1960’s. It is a powerful look at the realities of race in this city and in the nation. In 1999 she wrote an article for Salon magazine called The Last Plantation. In that article she talked about the power of the mind to internalize the external fears and ultimately end up doing the work of the peddlers of fear for them. Though she was talking about the state of race in this country, her final comments have an even wider wisdom. Unless we are able to move in the directions of our deepest dreams and hopes, we will be satisfied fighting over how the furniture is arranged.
When the disciples are held up in the room, they already know there is an empty tomb. They have heard the news but choose to live in willed ignorance about the reality. The words of a woman were not enough. For Thomas, even the words of all the other disciples were not enough. I will not believe he is alive until I can put my hands on the certified copy of the resurrection certificate, and even then… This way of thinking is why Jesus leads with “do not fear.” Before the disciples can believe and be witnesses they must deal with the fear that is guiding all their actions.
So where are the places of our fear? Where are we doing the work of the peddlers of fear? Don’t wait until you can place your hands in the side or on the paper certificate. The tomb is empty and death is not the end. We are called to live as free people and it is fear that will hold us back. The fear may be real, but the resurrection is too. Amen? Amen!
May 1, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Communion Meditation
John 20:19-31
“Self Imposed Fear”
My two favorite Sundays of the year are the Sunday after Christmas and the Sunday after Easter. That may seem strange but it is true. It is not that I have something against Easter and Christmas. My reasons are pretty simple. Actually I only have one reason. The scriptures that follow the great celebrations of our faith are not very encouraging but they speak of a faith that is far more real.
On the Sunday following Christmas we hear the stories of King Herod killing babies to protect his power. The birth of Jesus is a joyous celebration but killing babies is not the story we like to tell on Christmas. Then, the Sunday following resurrection Sunday, the disciples are hiding behind locked doors in fear. They do not seem to trust one another when some start telling news they have seen the Lord. Frankly, is it any wonder why the attendance drops off on those two Sundays? Given the trouble in our own time it seems much easier to allow the church to become another place of distraction from all the trouble in our lives and the world.
Do not hear me wrong. There is much in our lives that elicits fear and finding a refuge from those things is not, in itself, wrong. Global warming, failed banks, falling housing prices, recession, increased violence in Iraq and Afghanistan. On a local level there is fear of rising waters, crime in our neighborhoods, personal health concerns, and even the future of our own community. Because of the many real fears in our lives when the peddlers of fear come knocking on our door it is easy to be wound up, caught up, and even act up out of our fears. That is why the story of the gospel is always – Do not fear.
Being aware of the power of fear and how it permeates our culture is vital for people who know the tomb is empty. Fear is a powerful motivator. You can rally people to war on unfounded rumors and fears. You can find people stocking up on duct tape one day and blaming gay and lesbian people the next for the downfall of the republic. Fear can help bring a government to its knees and fear can build powerful religious institutions. But usually, fear motivates in far more subtle ways. But the worst and most insidious fear is that which we internalize. What I mean by this are the fears we take from the peddlers of fear and make them our own.
Acting out of these fears is, I believe, the foundation for most of the worlds’ evils. And on a more personal level it leads us to close inward. We lose the ability to truly listen to others and we limit our creativity. If we are to break from that way of responding to the ways of fear our challenge and calling is to lead with faith and belief in something powerful and worthy that draws us toward a higher goal and not against the most recent real or imagined threat.
A few years ago I read a book by Debra Dickerson called An American Story. It is a memoir of her experience of growing up in north Saint Louis at the end of the 1960’s. It is a powerful look at the realities of race in this city and in the nation. In 1999 she wrote an article for Salon magazine called The Last Plantation. In that article she talked about the power of the mind to internalize the external fears and ultimately end up doing the work of the peddlers of fear for them. Though she was talking about the state of race in this country, her final comments have an even wider wisdom. Unless we are able to move in the directions of our deepest dreams and hopes, we will be satisfied fighting over how the furniture is arranged.
When the disciples are held up in the room, they already know there is an empty tomb. They have heard the news but choose to live in willed ignorance about the reality. The words of a woman were not enough. For Thomas, even the words of all the other disciples were not enough. I will not believe he is alive until I can put my hands on the certified copy of the resurrection certificate, and even then… This way of thinking is why Jesus leads with “do not fear.” Before the disciples can believe and be witnesses they must deal with the fear that is guiding all their actions.
So where are the places of our fear? Where are we doing the work of the peddlers of fear? Don’t wait until you can place your hands in the side or on the paper certificate. The tomb is empty and death is not the end. We are called to live as free people and it is fear that will hold us back. The fear may be real, but the resurrection is too. Amen? Amen!
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