Friday, May 11, 2018

The Pink Rose

Sermon for Sunday, May 13, 2018 
First United Presbyterian Church – Winterset, Iowa 
Rev. Randal K. Lubbers, Pastor and Teacher

A Sermon inspired by (and based upon) THE PINK ROSE by Jeanne Stevenson Moessner. And dedicated to Jeanne, one of my spiritual mothers. Used by permission. 


Part One: The Down-to-Earth Gardener
THE GARDENER By Mary Oliver
Have I lived enough? Have I loved enough? Have I considered Right Action enough, have I
come to any conclusions? Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude? Have I endured loneliness with grace? I say, this, or perhaps I’m just thinking it. Actually, I probably think too much.
Then I step out into the garden, where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man, is tending his children, the roses.
Ever feel like life is passing you by? Do you wonder, “Have I lived enough? Have I loved enough?” Yeah. Me too. Sometimes it feel like I haven’t considered what Mary Oliver calls “Right Action” enough and I even feel ashamed because, doggone, if the pastor hasn’t come to any conclusions, then.... Well, what then? Of course at those times I’m falling into the common misconception that the pastor isn’t human.

But I am.

Funny, every time I rediscover this it throws me for a loop.

Like around three years ago when I was delivering a bouquet of roses to church on the Saturday before Mother’s Day. First of all, I felt bad enough about swearing in the very presence of the roses when they fell over in the van. What kind of pastor would swear while delivering flowers to church? And if that wasn’t horrible enough—What kind of pastor swears as he enters church because the box holding the bouquet—made limp because of the water that had spilled when they tipped over in the van—the bottom of the cardboard box disintegrates and the whole thing nearly crashes to the floor!

And after this all happened I could only wonder: How many Hail Marys—yeah, I know we’re Presbyterian, but—how many Hail Marys would I need say in order to purify the roses from my anger and bad words and make them suitable again for a sermon illustration?

What kind of pastor...? A human one, I guess?


Did you know? The word human comes from the same root word as the words humus and humor and humility. The common root word refers to something that comes out of the earth, as in, “the Lord God formed the human from the dust—the humus—of the earth...” To be human is to be down-to-earth.

I can laugh now about my misadventure—to grasp humor is to be human (and humble)—and yet, the questions from the poet persist.

Mary Oliver asks, “Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude?” Surely I’ve experienced happiness—just as surely I know I’m not sufficiently grateful. Not all the time.

“Have I endured loneliness with grace?” Yes, I’ve endured... but not with the grace I see in others. My sense is that most people in this quirky and incredibly loving congregation are better than I am at all these things—better at doing what Jesus has commanded us to do and which we can only do while connected to the True Vine: to simply love one another.

Here’s the thing—and I think it’s true for Moms and all of us: When we’re trying to do five things at once and feeling overwhelmed because of this-or-that going on behind the scenes (that maybe nobody else knows the whole story about); and when we’re a bit tired and our resistance is at a low ebb; and miss the grace-sightings all around us and forget to say thank you; and we might even start feeling like the world owes us roses...

And at that very moment...

Some jerk in a snazzy BMW will cut you off.


Can you believe that? That guy clearly doesn’t understand that I’m the one who indeed does own the road!

And then the vase of roses tips over.

So what do we learn from this? Well, for one thing, since top-heavy roses can tip over and make a mess; maybe we’d best not let ourselves get too top heavy either. And, one more thing: If we think mothers or pastors or elders or teachers or saints are somehow exempt from the humus—the earthiness—of life; exempt from days when boots get stuck in the mud and manure; then we are mistaken. Because there’s always one of those “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days” out there—just waiting for us—for saints and sinners and even moms.


Have I lived enough? Have I loved enough?...
I say, this, or perhaps I’m just thinking it. page2image22504 page2image22664 page2image22824
Actually, I probably think too much.
Then I step out into the garden, where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man, is tending his children, the roses.
The gardener isn’t thinking too hard about things. 
Just tending to things that need to be tended. 
He’s living and loving by tending the roses.

Part Two: Barrenness and the Pink Rose

In parts of the South, it’s a custom on Mother’s Day to wear a red rose if your mother is still living. And, in the South, men, women, and children wear a white rose if their mother is no longer living—if she has, as they would say in the South, “passed over.”

Red roses symbolize love. Red is the color of the Holy Spirit and the color of passion and life- blood. Red roses are a fitting symbol for our long-suffering, patient, never-take-the-last-cookie moms. White symbolizes Easter and resurrection and victory. We’ll white robes in glory— clothed in Christ’s righteousness. What a celebration! And, yet, the white roses might bring tears when we remember those we dearly miss. The white roses are for any of you who, like my kids, can no longer say “Happy Mother’s Day, I love you, Mom” face-to-face.


My friends Dave and Kim live in Montana. Three years ago—right about this time of year—Kim was in the check out line at the Costco and was greeted with “Happy Mother's Day!” to which she responded, “I'm not a mom.” Not willing to let it go at that, the still-cheery clerk said, “Well, we all have moms.” At that point, Kim composed herself, and said, “Yes, we do; and mine died two years ago. I miss her.”
Mother's Day can be really, really hard for those grieving. And, there are agonies, heartbreaks, and tears even beyond the symbol of the white roses. Mother’s Day can be especially painful for women and men who wanted to become parents and could not.

Sing, O Barren One (written by Mary Calloway) traces the theme of barren women in the Old and New Testaments. You may recall some of their stories:
  • In Genesis 11, Sarai was barren; she had no child.
  • In Genesis 25, Isaac prayed to the Lord for Rebecca, for she was barren...
  • And then there’s Hannah in 1 Samuel, and Elizabeth in the New Testament,
  • And the whole nation,
    Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband, says the Lord.
The theme of barrenness in the Bible functions to demonstrate that the gift of life came from God alone. Fruitfulness was seen as a reward for obedience. Barrenness was seen as humiliation or even a curse. 

Indeed, in Genesis 30, when Rachel saw that she bore Jacob no children, she envied her sister; and she said to Jacob, “Give me children or I shall die!” And Jacob becomes angry with her and says, “Am I in the place of God, who has withheld from you the fruit of the womb.” Ouch.

In all of the biblical stories of barren women—in the end, a son is given. In the end, prayers are answered.
So where does a woman who has not been given this gift of life connect on Mother’s Day? There are only a few obscure narratives of childless women who remain barren in Bible and I’m not going to tell those stories because they are—quite frankly—terrifying. As my friend and mentor Jeanne says, “Not a lot of comfort here.”

If the red roses represent living mothers, and the whites roses mothers who have passed over, what symbol do we have on Mother’s Day for the women who never bore a child?

What symbol do we have for my friend, the oldest sister of four girls, who longs to be a mom: She’s in her late 30s and her three younger sisters have seven children between them? What symbol so we have for women still dealing with infertility, for a mom waiting for a child to be placed with her through adoption, or for mothers who have lost children through miscarriage, stillbirth, accident, or illness? What symbol do we have if a child’s mother is alive but not around—a thousand miles away; or in prison; or imprisoned by addictions? What symbol do we have for the experience of losing one’s mother slowly—fading memories, dementia...?

For all these stories and more, our vase includes pink roses.
For the mother who has lost a child, a pink rose.
For the women who longed to be mothers, but could not, a pink rose.
For mothers who gave up a child for adoption, a pink rose.
For women waiting to adopt, a pink rose.
For a mother abused, a pink rose.
For a young girl shamed by her community, a pink rose.
And for all the other experiences—many fail to fit into our neat categories—a pink rose.


The pink roses are for unspoken agonies and sorrows the commercialized Mother’s Day glosses over. And for way, way too long the Church in North America has been complicit in this.

Part Three: Blessings and the Pink Rose

Yet, the pink roses are not only for hurts in need of healing, but also for the graces and joys we risk overlooking if we buy into the one-size-fits-all approach.

The pink roses are for blessings we have received from the spiritual mothers in the church and for stepmothers and grandmothers who came to the rescue... for a whole host of substitute moms... my kids could name many! Many of you here today are these spiritual mothers. For you, the pink rose is a badge of honor.

My spiritual mothers include my grandmother and Sunday school teachers and a host of other strong and wise women: Elizabeth, who introduced me to Hebrew and new ways of understanding the Old Testament; Bev, who was that one person who dared to ask, “How are you? No, how are you really?” and Jeanne, Janice Hope, Dawn, Heather...

The pink roses are for the “mothers of the church” who hold us together through nurturing and caring—through meals for the confirmation class and giving kids a ride because mom has to work. The pink roses are for women who are spiritual models and mentors.

Part Four – The Very Womb of God

Such a wide variety of experiences we have. 
So many different emotions.
Where do we go with all this?


Jeanne Stevenson Moessner says, “May I suggest that we bring our flowers—red, white, pink—to the altar of God who...” (like a mother) “...carries, feeds, protects, heals, guides, disciplines, comforts, washes, and clothes us as children.
  • Giving Birth – Listen to me, you who have been borne by me from birth and have been carried from the womb
  • Comforting – As a child who is comforted by her mother, so I will comfort you
  • Washing – I will pour clean water over you and scrub you clean; I’ll give you a new heart
    and put a new spirit in you
  • Healing – Look, God has moved into the neighborhood. God will wipe away every tear.
    Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more
  • Suffering & Long-Suffering (and even caring for difficult children) – The more I called them, the more they ran away from me; yet it was I who taught these children to walk, I
    took them up in my arms; but they didn’t know that it was I who healed them. I led them with cords of human kindness, with bands of love. I was to them like those who lift infants to their cheeks. I bent down to them and fed them.

    What ways of re-imaging God ring true to you? A woman dealing with breast cancer said, “After my surgery, I could not image God as a male. I needed to image God as Mother Hen. Because it is only God as mother hen who would know what it is like to lose a wing.”

    In a similar way, parents who have lost a child most often need and want visits from those who have gone through the same. And they need a God who knows what it was like to lose a child. I’m reminded again of Nicholas Wolterstorff’s book A Lament for a Son, “God is not only the God of the sufferers but the God who suffers... Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it.”
We can also re-image God as adoptive parent. The book of Ephesians in particular presents God as adoptive parent. God has destined us for adoption as children with an inheritance. God also knows the empty pain of childlessness when someone rejects the gracious invitation to come into the adoptive family.

The pink roses carry a meaning unique to each of our own experiences. The pink rose is for each of us, for all of us. My friend Jeanne wrote, “It would take an all-knowing, all-seeing, vulnerable, and loving God to fully understand what the pink rose signifies to each one of us.”

Jeanne—who taught pastoral care—was herself in need of tender care three years ago. She and her husband David experienced the death of their son. Jeanne would be the first to tell you that God’s healing doesn’t happen overnight. And yet she would speak, through her tears, of grace and love and laughter-in-the-midst-of-tears.... and of hope!

Jeanne wrote, “Our God is a God who formed our inward parts, knit us together in our mother’s womb, and saw our unformed substance. It is from such a God that healing will one day come, a healing that extends beyond childhood, before birth, to the very womb. This healing is to be found somehow in the very womb of God.”


Then I step out into the garden, where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man, is tending his children, the roses.
I like to think of the garden as the womb of the gardener.
It’s a place of hope and healing, of revelation and understanding.


We don’t learn to live by analyzing what it means to love... 
We learn to love by living.


In the garden...
Tending the roses...

Trusting that all the bouquets in our lives, all our stories, are held close to the very heart of God.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


A Prayer for Mother’s Day (Rev. Leslie Nipps, adapted)
On this Mother’s Day, we give thanks to you, O God, for the divine gift of motherhood in all its diverse forms. We pray for all the mothers among us today: for our own mothers, those living and those who have passed away; for single mothers who helped their children pick out their own card or gift; for mothers who loved us; and for those who fell short of loving us fully; for all who hope to be mothers someday and for those whose hope to have children has been frustrated; for all mothers who have lost children; for all women and men who have mothered others in any way—those who have been our substitute mothers and who have done so for those in need; and for the earth that bore us and provides us with our sustenance. We pray this all in the name of our birthing and adoptive God, who loves us to the uttermost. Amen. 

Monday, April 30, 2018

Easter & Joy & Mourning Gladly

EASTER ALWAYS

We are Easter People. As I have often said, "Easter is just too grand, too glorious, and too wonderful to be limited to just one day!"  

The Church calendar seems to agree with me—the Season of Easter begins with Easter Sunday and then the season continues for fifty days! And so we have reflected on how Easter changes our lives through April and into May. Easter makes a difference! Not only does Easter make a difference, Easter makes all the difference in the world. Nothing will ever be the same.

Christ is risen! Earth and heaven
nevermore shall be the same.
Break the bread of new creation
where the world is still in pain.
Tell its grim, demonic chorus:
“Christ is risen! Get you gone!”
God the First and Last is with us,
sing hosanna, everyone!

BRIAN WREN, 1986

REJOICE ALWAYS

By the way, I’m writing these reflections for the June newsletter on April 30. Working ahead. Because when this June newsletter is coming out, I’ll be making the last-minute preparations for Luke’s graduation party. Yes, that means pulling my hair out—ha, ha, ha! Anyway, at least for today I’m patting myself on the back for “working ahead” as I sometimes did in school. Anyway, as I happily anticipate the May Day Breakfast at our church, and think about all that May will bring—including tulips in Pella, and think about June (which seems far away but will be here in just a moment and—for all of us reading this now, it’s indeed already arrived)… As I anticipate all this with a glad heart, part of me anxiously screams, “How will I get everything done?” Yet, even as I feel that hint of anxiety or stress, I cannot help but think of one of my grandfather’s favorite passages:

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:4-7).

MOURNING GLADLY ALWAYS

Does the idea of “mourning gladly” make you shake your head in confusion? Maybe you didn’t catch it, or maybe you even thought the caption was a typo!

And yet, perhaps… Maybe the idea of “mourning gladly” took your mind and heart to Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, where he says,

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

May I tell you a funny story (a “confession”) in the midst of this thought? When I started “working ahead” on the June newsletter, I was simply going to share an essay from Lament for a Son, a little-and-profound book by Nicholas Wolterstorff. Sharing his essay would be an easy way to save me the time or “hassle” of writing some reflections myself. But then I started thinking of “mourning gladly” in the context of Easter. And then—if I can use a metaphor—I veered off Highway 92 and started exploring my mind’s gravel roads and before you know it was hanging out near a covered bridge. Which is exactly why I’m a pastor and not an accountant. And why I sometimes drive people crazy—whether it be my kids on vacation (when I literally take the scenic route “just because it was there”) or whether it be a Type A person during a committee meeting. Lol.

Anyway, I still want to share Nicholas Wolterstorff with you even if that means the newsletter is a little longer than usual.

More background… I pulled his book out this morning when I read a poem on Facebook—a beautiful poem written by a dear friend about her brother’s recent death and her grief. Only just moments ago did I recall, in addition to that first prod, that June 4 will be the ninth anniversary of my own Carolyn’s death.

Sitting under my metaphorical covered bridge, here is the thing I want tell you, dearly loved people of 1UPC—

We all experience loss and grief and sorrow at some point in our lives. At this point in this extended reflection I have tears in my eyes. Some of you do too. And that’s OK. And yet, at the same time, we are Easter People! We are people who mourn with gladness and hope in our hearts, because we not only share in Christ’s death but in his resurrection. We grieve—but not as those who have no hope! We are Easter people always. Rejoicing always. And even “mourning gladly” always!
            
Glad to be on the journey with you,
                        
Pastor Randy


BLESSED ARE THOSE WHO MOURN…
A GUEST ESSAY BY NICHOLAS WOLTERSTORFF
From Lament for a Son, pp. 84-86

Standing on a hill in Galilee Jesus said to his disciples:

Blessed are those who mourn,For they shall be comforted. 

Blessings to those who mourn, cheers to those who weep, hail to those whose eyes are filled with tears, hats off to those who suffer, bottoms up to the grieving. How strange, how incredibly strange! 
When you and I are left to our own devices, it’s the smiling, successful ones of the world that we cheer, “Hail to the victors.” The histories we write of the odyssey of humanity on earth are the stories of the exulting ones—the nations that won the battle, the businesses that defeated their competition, the explorers who found a pass the Pacific, the scientists whose theories proved correct, the athletes who came in first, the politicians who won their campaigns. We turn away from the crying ones of the world. Our photographers tell us to smile. 
“Blessed are those who mourn.” What can it mean? One can understand why Jesus hails those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, why he hails the merciful, why he hails the pure in heart, why he hails the peacemakers, why he hails those who endure under persecution. These are qualities of character which belong to the life of the kingdom. But why does he hail the mourners of the world? Why cheer tears? It must be that mourning is also a quality of character that belongs to the life of his realm.

Who then are the mourners? The mourners are those who have caught a glimpse of God’s new day, who ache with all their being for that day’s coming, and who break out into tears when confronted with its absence. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm of peace there is no one blind and who ache whenever they see someone unseeing. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one falsely accused and who ache whenever they see someone imprisoned unjustly. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one who fails to see God and who ache whenever they see someone unbelieving. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one who suffers oppression and who ache whenever they see someone beat down. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm there is no one without dignity and who ache whenever they see someone treated with indignity. They are the ones who realize that in God’s realm of peace there is neither death nor tears and who ache whenever they see someone crying tears over death. The mourners are aching visionaries.

Such people Jesus blesses; he hails them, he praises them, he salutes them. And he gives them the promise that the new day for whose absence they ache will come. They will be comforted. 
The Stoics of antiquity said: Be calm. Disengage yourself. Neither laugh nor weep. Jesus says: Be open to the wounds of the world. Mourn humanity’s mourning, weep over humanity’s weeping, be wounded by humanity’s wounds, be in agony over humanity’s agony. But do so in the good cheer that a day of peace is coming.

+++


Sunday, January 4, 2015

The Legend of the Three Trees

The Legend of the Three Trees

Adapted and Told by Rev. Randal K. Lubbers 
Sunday, January 5, 2015

(Children) What do you want to be when you grow up?(ad lib discussion)

This is a story about three trees who shared their dreams about what they wanted to be when they grew up. And it begins, as stories often do…

Once upon a time… a long time ago… in a land far away… 

On a hilltop in a forest, there lived three very young trees… they were friends… growing up next to each other… And one day, talking about what they wanted to be when they grew up… each tree shared her dream with the others…

The first little tree had heard stories of buried treasure and riches like gold and silver coins and precious jewels. She looked at the stars and said, “I want to be a beautiful treasure chest and hold the most valuable treasure in the world!"

The second young tree had heard stories of adventure. She looked out at the small stream making its way to the ocean and said, “I want overcome the big waves and great winds and even carry a great king. When I grow up I’ll be the strongest ship in the world!”

Last and least, the third tree looked into the valley below where men and women lived and said, “You know, I don't want to leave here at all. I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I will be the tallest tree in the world.”

Winter came and spring arrived. Rains came and the sun shone bright. Year after year the little trees grew taller and taller. Until one day a woodcutter climbed the mountain, looked at the first tree and said, "This tree is perfect for me." With a swoop of his ax, the first tree fell. And she was SO happy when the woodcutter brought her to the carpenter's shop. But the carpenter made her into a feed box for animals. She wasn’t filled with gold or jewels but with hay for sheep and cows.

The next year the woodcutter returned and looked at the second tree and saw that it was strong and straight. “Perfect,” he thought as he prepared to cut it down. And the tree smiled when the woodcutter took her to a shipyard, thinking, “Just as I dreamed, I’m going to be a mighty sailing ship.” But, instead, the tree was crafted into a very small, very simple, very humble fishing boat. She was too small and too weak to sail to an ocean and was taken to a little lake.

And then, the very next year—
Would you like to guess what happens?

The third tree felt her heart sink when the woodcutter came towards her. She stood straight and tall—her top branches pointed up to the heavens.

But the wood cutter never even looked up.
“Any kind of tree will be just fine—”

And with a mighty swoop of the axe, the tree fell to the ground. Back at the lumberyard, the woodcutter used a big circular saw to cut her into big, strong, rough wooden beams. And the once tall tree wondered, “What happened? All I ever wanted was to stay on the mountain top and point to God..."

After a long, long time the three trees nearly forgot their dreams.

But one night, a young girl named Mary placed her newborn baby in the feed box. She smiled at her husband Joseph and gently squeezed the baby’s little hand. “This manger is beautiful,” she said, and the first tree felt as if she was holding the greatest treasure in the world. And she was.

Years later, Jesus and his friends crowded into the old fishing boat to sail across the lake. But soon a great storm wind blew and the waves crashed into the boat and the second tree knew she didn’t have the strength to carry so many passengers safely. But Jesus, who had fallen asleep earlier, got up, stretched out his hand, and said, "Peace, be still." And the storm stopped as quickly as it had begun. And the second tree felt as if she were carrying the King of heaven and earth—who else could conquer a mighty storm with just a word?

A year or two later, two rough beams of the third tree were yanked from the wood pile. Roman soldiers tied and then nailed a man's hand to each end of one of the beams; and pulled up the beam and the man; and people made fun of him and even laughed at him… And he died…

The third tree had become the cross where Jesus died…

But all she knew was that it all made her feel dirty and ugly, cruel and sick to her stomach—it was horrible.

After Jesus’ died on the cross his body was wrapped in white cloths—bands of cloth not unlike the “swaddling clothes” of the manger—and he was laid on a rocky ledge in a cave. Then, on the first day of the week, women came to the tomb and learned that Jesus had been raised from the dead— “Why do you look for the LIVING in this place for the dead?” one angel asked.

God’s love had changed everything. And on EVERY single first day of the week since that first Easter, people who know and love and follow Jesus have gathered together to worship God.

The three trees each remembered what they had hoped and prayed for and how it had happened, only in different ways than they had thought.

The first tree had held the greatest treasure—Immanuel, God with Us.

The second tree had sailed through wind and waves carrying a great King—Jesus Christ—who could calm the storm with but a word.

And the third tree remembered exactly what she had hoped for too: “I want to grow so tall that when people stop to look at me they'll raise their eyes to heaven and think of God. I will be the tallest tree in the world.”

And even today we lift high the cross and proclaim the love of God.

So the legend of the three trees tells the story of Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection. And the story reminds us, too, that God has good plans in mind for your life:
I know the plans I have in mind for you, declares the Lord;
they are plans for peace, not disaster,
to give you a future filled with hope.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Look at the World (Thanksgiving Sermon)

So much to be thankful for… the 125th anniversary celebration, new carpeting and a new look to the front of our already-beautiful sanctuary, young families involved in new and renewed ministries. Like you, sometimes I don’t feel thankful. But when I slow down long enough to be aware of everything and aware—once again—that it all comes from God, then my heart leaps. We hosted the community-wide Thanksgiving Service in our sanctuary on the Wednesday prior to Thanksgiving. Some have requested copies of the sermon—particularly the story about the turkeys from Ann Kansfield… So here you are...


Look at the World (excerpts)

By Rev. Randal K. Lubbers

With notes on 3x5 cards and scribbles on legal pads accumulated over the last few weeks, I sat down to actually type this sermon out. Where to begin? Staring at the blank screen I typed:  Ferguson, Missouri.

And you may wonder what that might have to do with your Thanksgiving or mine, but I couldn't help but think:  I wonder what Thanksgiving will be like for people in Ferguson-- for Michael Brown's family and friends, for police officers families, for the families of shopkeepers and business owners and school teachers and children--black and white but especially black who feel oppressed and overlooked and voice-less and, perhaps, not feeling very thankful. And if you think this has nothing to do with us or if you just "want it all to go away" then I think you need to re-look at the world and those who are the last and least in it....  

You see, I don't think we can be truly grateful people unless we “give a hoot” about those who are in need. Jesus did not teach you or me to pray, “Give us this day my daily bread”—rather, Jesus taught us to pray for “our daily bread.” So I pray not just my own family, not just my own church, not just my own community, not just my own nation, not just people who look like me… But we pray for OUR daily bread—that all of God’s
children will have food to eat and homes and freedom from oppression….

The reading we heard from James tonight reminds us: Caring for orphans and widows, offering a heart of compassion and the tangible too—a cup of cold water given in Christ’s name—this is what pure gratitude looks like—this is what it means to truly give thanks. Too often those of us blessed with advantages and privileges pray, “Thank you, God, for all these many blessing you have given us” with the unspoken assumption that “God helps those who help themselves.” But God contradicts this truism in Deuteronomy, saying: “Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand have gained me this wealth.’” God’s giving is always prior to any of our acts of gratitude.

I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s only after I figure that out—that it was all God’s doing, not mine—only then can I grasp how amazing God’s benefits truly are. When our hearts are humble (because “it wasn’t by my power or the strength of my own work”) then we can, as the anthem says,
Look at the world, everything all around us
Look at the world and marvel every day.
Look at the world: so many joys and wonders,
So many miracles along our way

A pastor and colleague of mine had one of those miracle experiences this last week. Rev. Ann Kansfield is pastor of a church in the Greenpoint neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York. She tells the story this way:

Each year a business in Greenpoint donates a bunch of turkeys to us in honor of the local police precinct.  Here's how it works: the cops call, ask how many birds we need. Usually they insist that we need more. Then the business calls and schedules a drop off. This year it was 30 turkeys. Yesterday they dropped of 80 turkeys. I figured they upped our number, no big deal. I had just gotten a call from a colleague that they needed more turkeys for their community meal, so I say come by and get them; we got extra. I give him 40 (and the other 10 were given to an organization that works with immigrants). When he picks them up, he says that the 50 turkeys he planned on getting somehow went missing. Today I get a call from turkey delivery guy that they made a horrible mistake and dropped off too many birds. I'm freaking out because I've already given away the extras to folks who needed them. Delivery guy is freaking out because he's missing 50 birds. Then I asked him which organization was supposed to receive the missing turkeys...turns out, it was my colleague's church. I explained to the delivery guy that we had already pretty much solved his problem by sharing the excess with an organization in need.
The miracle of the feeding of the 5000 was really about distribution and not just multiplication. Living into the vision of the day when sharing by all means scarcity for none.

To say that in a different way, when I take the first bite of turkey my heart should not only thank those
who roasted and carved the bird and prepared the meal…. But my heart MUST go out to those who are hungry. 

Give us this day… our daily bread.

Paraphrasing John Calvin (of all people) from a quotation in Space for God by Don Postema...

Sometimes I am almost overwhelmed with such great and bountiful outpourings of God’s kindness and generosity… Sometimes I feel almost surrounded because, wherever I turn my eyes, there and there and there again—such numerous and amazing miracles of God’s hand. How can I ever say, oh, I can’t think of anything? I am never without items for what often turns into a long, long list of things for which I must give God praise and thanksgiving.
So... Let's make space in our busy lives for God... let's pause long enough... To...

Look at the world... everything and everyone all around us.
Look long enough to be overwhelmed.
And then, in your own way, give thanks and praise to God!

Monday, October 13, 2014

Domestic Violence Awareness (Sunday 10/12/2014)

Sermon and a portion of the order of service...


First Presbyterian Church
"A House of Prayer for All Peoples"
Lake Crystal, Minnesota
Sunday, October 12, 2014

“HOPE & RESTORATION”

AN ORDER FOR MORNING PRAYER FOR DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AWARENESS ǂ


Leader: O Lord, open my lips;
People: And my mouth shall proclaim your praise.
Leader: If God be for us, who can be against us?
People: There is nothing in all creation
that can separate us from the love of God,
which is ours in Christ Jesus our Lord.


PSALM 51:1-2, 10-12

UNISON PRAYER
Compassionate and Gracious God, forgive what our lips tremble to name. Free us from a past we cannot change. Break the chains that bind us. We admit that though You have called us to love others as ourselves, we often ignore cries for help, sit in judgment of others, and wait for someone else to do justice. Be merciful to us, O God; open our ears to your Holy Spirit, stir us to action, and awaken us from complacency. Help us to reflect the Spirit of Jesus, who brought hope to the anguished and restoration to all he touched. Amen.

Psalm 6 & 11 from Swallow’s Nest: A Feminine Reading of the Psalms by Marchiene Vroon Rienstra © 1992 Eerdmans Publishing.

PSALM 6 [This might be the prayer of a woman who was raped]
Leader: Have mercy on me, O God, for I am very weak.
Heal me, El Shaddai, for my bones ache with anguish
and my soul is filled with turmoil.

People: O God, when will You deliver me from my despair?
For mercy’s sake, come soon to me and save me!
If I die, how can I gratefully remember You?
If I stay in this dreadful pit, how can I praise You?
I am sick with sighing, and every night I soak my sheets with tears.
My face is wet with weeping, and my eyes are hollow with grief.
The attack on me has made me grow old.
Depart from me, all you who would do me evil!
For God has heard the sound of my sorrow.
She has heard my pleas, and accepts me as I am.
All who have hurt me shall know shame and trouble.
Dishonor will fall on their heads.


PSALM 11 [This might be the prayer of an abused woman against her inner enemies –
despair, fear, a sense of worthlessness]
Leader: How can you say to my soul, “Fly away, like a bird, to the mountains”?
There is no easy escape from the inner attacks of darkness.

People: The arrows of fear pierce my heart.
The foundation of my self-esteem is destroyed.
How can I be upright, or do what I need to do?
Yet God is within my body, which is Her holy temple.
She also dwells in the heavens and sees us, tests us all.
Though She lets those with integrity endure many trials,
Her soul hates those who love violence.
She will send fire and brimstone and a scorching wind
To destroy the despair that attacks me.

Leader: For God is loving and just, and always does what is right.
Those who act with integrity shall surely behold Her face.


*PSALM 40 “I Waited Patiently for God” From Lift Up Your Hearts; tune: NEW BRITAIN

GOSPEL LESSON: Matthew 18:21-35 Pew Bible: NT p. 20

SERMON “Hope and Restoration” 

(manuscript)
Heidelberg Catechism series: Lord’s Day 51
“Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors”

“Forgiving is for people who know their own faults but who recognize a wrong and dare to name it when they feel it done to them and have the wisdom and grace to forgive it” (Smedes, p. 85).

Introduction:  Ad lib. Did Jesus really mean what he said?

We are inclined to separate God’s Forgiveness (of us) and Our Reconciling Behavior in association with those who have offended (harmed, hurt, sinned against) us. And yet, the last three petitions of the Lord’s Prayer call us to pray not only for our own needs but for the needs of others: asking for OUR daily bread, OUR forgiveness, OUR salvation.

True forgiveness of others is hard because of “our habit of always seeing the guilt predominately on the other side, while being inclined to see our own side in a favorable light, to justify it and defend it against the other, even in the most hopeless case…” (Eberhard Busch) As a rule is was, in our view, clearly the other side in which the evil began.

Example… Illustration… two brothers in the back seat on a road trip…
Siblings always say, “HE started it!
"

Ad lib:  "Pardon me" vs. Forgiving the unforgivable

So, in a situation of IRRECONCILIABILITY, we pray “forgive us OUR sins,” that is, “for the sake of Christ’s blood, do not charge to us miserable sinners our many transgressions, nor the evil which still always clings to us” (Heidelberg Catechism). Doing this…
• Reverses the accusing finger and directs it first of all at ourselves
• Puts us in the “camp of the enemy” and allows us, enables us by grace to see the “other” as a human being
• Lewis Smedes outlines three stages of forgiveness: We rediscover the HUMANITY of the person who wronged us…. we surrender our right to get even (this is really the act of forgiveness)… and, finally, we wish that person well…

Forgiving others acknowledges that it is GOD who is able to overcome the situation of irreconcilability. Reconciliation with one another is inseparable with our reconciliation with God.

Yet, we must be CRYSTAL CLEAR….God’s reconciliation does not suspend justice. It upholds it. It does not say that wrong is right. It condemns injustices.

Illustration: Ad lib story from Lewis Smedes

Lewis Smedes: To FORGIVE a person is NOT a signal that you are willing TO PUT UP WITH what he/she does. Forgiving is not about letting people get away with something. “Let it be shouted once more, from the roof this time: Forgiving a person does not mean that we tolerate what that person is doing to hurt us. Forgiving does not turn us into mush” (Smedes, The Art of Forgiving, p. 159).

Busch: “There are actually situations of guilt in which one side is the guilty one and the other side is the
one that is suffering. In this case it would be vexingly wrong for the guilty one to say: we are all sinners and all need forgiveness. This would mean that the victims have also themselves to blame for their fate, and so would make light of the guilt of the guilty and hurt their victims anew” (Busch, Drawn to Freedom, p. 346).

Forgiving does not mean that we tolerate the WRONG committed against us. Forgiving doesn’t take the edge off the evil that was done to us, it doesn’t mean that we excuse the guilty party or surrender our right to justice. And forgiving and its timetable is up to the person who has been injured. And only her.

Remember what we talked about a few weeks ago? You are God’s dearly loved children—so be truly what you have been named by God. Be salt and light. By being God-colors in the world, by being the taste of godliness in the world, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, our generous Father in heaven. We cannot do that when we’re looking to exact vengeance, right?  Yes, anger can be healthy. It moves us towards justice. But hate is debilitating.

“As we start on the miracle of forgiving, we begin to see our enemy through a clearer lens, less smudged by hate. We begin to see a real person, a botched self, no doubt, a hodgepodge of meanness and decency, lies and truths, good and evil…. We see a human being created to be a child of God” (Smedes)

And yet, we must take care when we let go of our ‘right’ to vengeance and make sure we are not giving up on justice. “Forgiving surrenders the right to vengeance, it never surrenders the claims of justice” (Lewis Smedes, The Art of Forgiving: When You Need to Forgive and Don’t Know How).

Forgiveness sets us free and gives us hope for restoration of our own wounded souls. When we cannot forgive, we are unable to enjoy the full measure of freedom and joy granted to us through God’s forgiveness of our own sins. Yet--and this is vitally important--it is not up to me or you to tell a wounded person 'you must forgive' or to suggest when.  So in the midst of great hurts, let us acknowledge the pain, confess our complicity, work proactively to help wounded souls escape dangerous situations, and pray for the grace of forgiveness. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.




PRAYERS OF THANKSGIVING AND INTERCESSION

*HYMN “Blest Be the Tie That Binds” The Hymnbook no. 473
*BENEDICTION Numbers 6:24-26

*POSTLUDE

ǂ Resources:
Call to Worship and portions of other prayers and readings adapted by Pastor Randy from the 2013 and 2014 Presbyterians Against Domestic Violence resource packets. Order for Morning Prayer freely adapted from Daily Prayer: The Worship of God: Supplemental Worship Resource 5 (prepared by the PCUSA office of worship) © 1987 Westminster John Knox Press. Psalm 6 & 11 from Swallow’s Nest: A Feminine Reading of the Psalms by Marchiene Vroon Rienstra © 1992 Eerdmans Publishing.

Sermon Bibliography:
Busch, Eberhard. Drawn to Freedom: Christian Faith Today in Conversation with the Heidelberg Catechism.
Lewis B. Smedes. The Art of Forgiving: When You Need to Forgive and Don’t Know How

Monday, September 8, 2014

Childlike Awe and Trust

Sermon for Sunday, September 7, 2014

Heidelberg450 series: Lord’s Day 46 (“Our Father in heaven”)
First Presbyterian Church ▪ Lake Crystal, Minnesota
Rev. Randal K. Lubbers, Pastor & Teacher
“Childlike Awe and Trust”
Romans 8:31-32; Matthew 6:25-34; 7:9-11

THE TEXTS

NEW TESTAMENT LESSON

Romans 8:31-32
What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else?

GOSPEL LESSON

Matthew 6:25-34; 7:9-11
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and God’s righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
“So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today….
Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

HEIDELBERG CATECHISM Q & A 120

Q. Why did Christ command us
to call God “our Father”?
A. To awaken in us at the very beginning of our prayer what should be basic to our prayer— a childlike reverence and trust that through Christ God has become our Father, and that just as our parents do not refuse us the things of this life, even less will God our Father refuse to give us what we ask in faith.1

HEIDELBERG CATECHISM Q & A 121

Q. Why the words “in heaven”?
A. These words teach us not to think of God’s heavenly majesty as something earthly,1 and to expect everything needed for body and soul from God’s almighty power.

THE SERMON

INTRODUCTION

How was YOUR day yesterday? Such a bright blue sky, such a wonderful feeling in the air—did you get through the day without some exclamation of praise? Or last night! Not quite a full moon but lovely nonetheless, clear sky, bright stars, and a cool hint of autumn? Could you absorb it without whispering “wow”? It got me to singing the choral anthem by John Rutter, “Look at the World”—
Look at the world, everything all around us
Look at the world and marvel every day.
Look at the world: so many joys and wonders,
So many miracles along our way…
 
Look at the earth bringing forth fruit and flower,
Look at the sky the sunshine and the rain.
Look at the hills, look at the trees and mountains,
Valley and flowing river, field and plain.
 
Think of the spring, think of the warmth of summer
Bringing the harvest before winter’s cold.
Everything grows, everything has a season,
till it is gathered to the Father's fold:
 
REFRAIN: Praise to thee, O Lord for all creation.
Give us thankful hearts that we may see
All the gifts we share, and every blessing,
All things come of thee
.
Gratitude is one of the central themes of scripture.

Gratitude is the heart of the Christian life.

Gratitude leads us into prayer which, the Heidelberg Catechism says, is the most important part of the thankfulness God expects from us. Gratitude is foundational to the way we understand God and our relationship with God.

God gives.
We receive and give thanks with a grateful heart.

INTERLUDE

Some of you remember our series this summer on the Ten Commandment. More than once along the way we talked about the commandments in the context of the Exodus, God’s deliverance of the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt—the Exodus was their escape out of Pharaoh’s harsh rule and, eventually, into the Promised Land. God set them free and the commandments were not arbitrary, indiscriminate, harsh rules designed to keep people in their place; but rather, God’s guide for living in gratitude.

God’s whole goal for the Hebrew people, expressed to Abraham many generations before, was that they bring God’s salvation to the whole world. Abraham was blessed to be a blessing.

This is the big picture of the salvation story from Genesis to Revelation: God’s whole work with human beings has this central goal: That just as God lives with us, so we too live and have community with God.i

Authors C. Christopher Smith and John Pattison say that another way in their book Slow Church, and again you’ll hear a connection to the Exodus story we’ve talked about so much:

In sharp contrast to an earthly tyrant who brutalizes his subjects into fearful submission, God lovingly and patiently involves humans in the work of reconciliation.ii

God’s people—you, and me, and all of us together—are at the heart of God’s ministry of reconciliation. Paul told the Corinthian church, “…If anyone is in Christ, that person is part of the new creation…. All of these new things are from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and who gave us the ministry of reconciliation.”

“Our calling to Christ is to COMMUNITY—to a life shared with others in a local gathering that is an expression of Christ’s body in our particular place” (Slow Church). You’ve seen those demonstration plots for corn and soybeans, right? Our church is called to “…become a demonstration plot for what God intends for all humanity and all creation.”  iii

So when we pray, we pray, “OUR Father.” Not merely MY Father. Even when we pray the Lord’s Prayer alone, we pray “OUR Father” and we, in effect, pray with and for the whole community and the whole world. Our prayers are part of our ministry of reconciliation. The hospitable church is a worshiping, singing, praying church. Come to think of it, hospitality and openness and respect, these are all childlike virtues. We pray “Our Father” to awaken in us a childlike awe and trust: Wow! Imagine that! Through Jesus Christ God has become our Father; and we, God’s children.

ON BEING CHILDLIKE

I don’t know about you, but sometimes the idea of being “childlike” strikes people the wrong way. Whether we believe it or not, we sometimes act as if the idea of “saying your daily prayers” is ONLY for little children—or, perhaps, for those immature or weak people who somehow have a “need to pray.” Ideas such as “rugged individualism” and “autonomy” are so pervasive in Western culture, particularly among men—it creates a cognitive disconnect:

We SAY that we VALUE ‘childlike awe and trust’—indeed, we latch on to cute stories about that sort of thing—but in the way we live do we truly value ‘childlike awe and trust’ or do we REALLY put a higher value on adult sensibilities, logic, good judgment, skepticism, and self-reliance? We SAY that we OUGHT to pray and we teach our kids to pray (or at least hope the church might) and yet, yet… somewhere deep down we feel like prayer is an admission of weakness.

Well, the short answer is that yes, yes… PRAYER is an admission of weakness, powerlessness, emptiness; but it is in that very admission that we discover Christ’s strength. It is not through individualistic self-sufficiency that we become free. We become free in our relationship with God. God gives us that gift. God adopts us and calls us dearly loved children and heirs. We simply respond in gratitude.

Really now, is the whole boot-straps thing all it's cracked up to be?  In our self-sufficiency we worry endlessly. We’re anxious about everything and yet EVERYTHING WE NEED is exactly what God promises to give us. When we are set free, we are truly free to desire God first and foremost and trust that all the other things we need will be provided as well.

Maybe we get confused because we think of God as the one who has foreordained everything in precise detail and that, since God is God and we aren’t, it might be presumptuous or egotistical to ask for anything at all.

But we don’t pray to an immovable object but to “Our Father in heaven” – that is, we pray to the God revealed in Jesus.

God has become our father through Jesus Christ and will no more deny us what we ask for in faith than our human parents will refuse us earthly things (paraphrasing HC Art. 120).

God in Jesus Christ is Immanuel, the God with us. God not only wants to talk to us but desires that you and I talk to and with God. God really wants to listen to us. God wants us to have a say.

Certainly, in all this, God is God and we are not; and yet, even though we shouldn’t think of God’s majesty as something earthly, yet there is nothing in our lives, none of our concerns, nothing on this earth is foreign to God. (Busch)

Prayer is not a monologue. The God who calls us to pray hears us. We don’t pray merely for its meditative value or to reflect upon things in an abstract way. God really hears us. We don’t merely pray because it changes us—although indeed it does. Prayer isn’t an act of envisioning your best life nor should our prayers the long lists prepared by children for Santa Claus. Jesus is our example, not Joel Osteen. Prayer is not something to feel pious or self-righteous about. It earns us nothing. At the same time, don’t avoid praying because you don’t feel pious enough. That’s a false humility. Our prayers need not be perfect because no matter what words we use; God hears our prayers for the sake of Jesus; and Jesus himself forgives our insincere and empty phrases and molds our prayers into perfect prayers.

CONCLUSION

We begin the Lord’s Prayer “Our Father” to awaken in us a childlike reverence and trust. We say “in heaven” not because God is “far away” (he’s not) but, rather, to remind us that “God is God and we are not” and that because God is God—almighty, yes, AND compassionate and gracious, overflowing in mercy and faithful love—we can EXPECT everything we need—for both body and soul.

Every good gift, all that we need and cherish.
Comes from the Lord in token of his love…

Every good gift! So what can our response be but wonderment, amazement, reverence…?
 

And along with those feelings, a deep and abiding trust.

Our Father in heaven: When we look at nature we are in awe—but even more so when we look into your heart through the face of Jesus. Giving is basic to your very nature. You give and give and give again; and you even gave your own Son. How can we NOT trust that you will give us everything else we need? Amen.

Jewish theologian Abraham Heschel wrote, “Get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”iv

Epilogue

A young father took his four-year old son to the shore somewhere on the East coast about an hour before dawn. They walked the dark beach for a while, got their feet wet, and then settled in to wait for the sun. Hints of light made the water glisten and then the rays of light became brighter until, finally—[snap] just like that—the bright sun was alive! The little boy watched in awe, in total silence for a full minute (an eternity for a young boy on the beach). And, then—eyes wide—he turned to his dad and said, “Wow, Dad. Do that again!”

And that’s the thing.
God does it again.
And again and again!
Every day.

Amen.

Notes

i Paraphrasing Eberhard Busch, Drawn to Freedom, p. 321
ii Slow Church, p. 26.
iii Slow Church, pp. 29-30.
iv Slow Church, p. 174.