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/Sermons http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons en-us Sun, 22 Nov 2009 01:26:57 GMT Caravel CMS RSS App Community is the center of our lives 10-25-09.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Community is the center of our lives 10-25-09.rtf@CB2 Meditation for October 11, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passages: 1 Peter 4:7-11 and Ephesians 3:14-21

Community is the center of our lives

         Today's worship service is going to be a bit different. Lots of the elements will be familiar but we're going to approach them differently. We will have a Children's Time. We will offer our resources our time, our talents and our money to God. We will share our lives, our joys and concerns. We will pray together. And eventually we'll put on our coats, pick up our shovels and go outside to dig. (Now that's the really different part.) We do these things because we are a practicing body of believers. We do these things because we are a community.
As part of our adult Sunday School offerings this year, John Franz is leading us in a study of what it means to be Anabaptist. John has introduced us to the writings of theologian, Palmer Becker. Becker writes that Anabaptist Christians, which includes us Mennonites, have three core values, three key statements that, he says, ``profoundly affect our believing, belonging and behaving.'' According to Becker, these are three core values are:
1. Jesus is the center of our faith.
2. Community is the center of our lives.
3. Reconciliation is the center of our work.
This morning we're going to be highlighting some of the ways that we as Glennon Heights Mennonite Church flesh out and live into that second statement: Community is the center of our lives.
         The scripture passage from 1 Peter that I read this morning describes what a living community of believers is like. Those who make up the community are serious, Peter says, about what they believe. They discipline themselves they show up, they participate, they listen, they learn ``for the sake of their prayers.'' Faith and prayer undergird all that they do.
         What do they do in this community of believers? They love each other. They offer themselves and their resources to each other. They speak the truth to each other. And with the strength that God provides, they serve each other. Did you notice how many times I just said ``each other''? That's the point, of course. This is not a one-way type of deal. This community stuff is reciprocal. It's mutual. It must go back and forth. That is its strength. The community that loves each other is able to forgive one another more rapidly when minor issues arise. The community that builds each other up, is able to stand up and stay strong when adversity hits. The community that shares with and serves each other, learns from experience who God is and who God is calling us to be. Such a believing, acting, trusting, giving and forgiving community brings glory and honor to God. In the words of the Apostle Paul, such a community is rooted and grounded in God's love.
         This morning, as we move through this worship service, this celebration of community, take time to look around you. Notice the faces many familiar, some not of those who are there beside you in the pew or up front or in the rows behind you. As you notice these faces, say a prayer of thanks. Thank God for each person. Thank God for who they are and that they are here to be part, with you, of this community of believers. Thank God that you are not alone. We need each other in order to stay centered as we live out our faith. We need each other in order to understand who God is. We need each other in order to be whole.
         Amen.
Wed, 28 Oct 2009 01:32:07 GMT Trust and Obey 10-25-09.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Trust and Obey 10-25-09.rtf@CB2 Trust and Obey
10/25/09
I was getting my hair cut at the Aveda salon last week. And my hairdresser and I were talking about my internship here at Glennon Heights, and I was saying that sometimes I feel like I'm just a kid pretending to be a pastor. I'm too young to know what I'm doing. She said, ``Well, how old was Jesus when he started preaching?''He was thirty I said, so not too much older than I am. ``and then they killed when he was forty right? She said. No, I said, 33. ``That is so sad'' she said,
``Yeah,'' I said, ``He only got three years of preaching in.''``But they killed him. That's just so sad,'' she repeated. I was surprised by her response. We sing about the death of Jesus all the time in our hymns but we don't often have an emotional response to it. And I was struck by how genuine she was in her response: Jesus' death is sad.
And because of this, people throughout the years have tried to figure out what Jesus death meant. The texts we have this morning talking about this issue are not easy reads. Isaiah 53 in particular was a surprise for me. I know that this language of Jesus as the lamb led to the slaughter is common in our hymns, but I had not read this text before, and it was troubling to me. Verse 10 is especially difficult``yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him with pain'' It strikes me as somewhat inconsistent, that a loving God would sacrifice God's own son in such a violent way. It's a little unnerving. God requires the sacrifice of God's son to save the world? Why can't an all powerful God just save the world without a sacrifice? Why is this God's will? These are some big questions, and we can't be expected to have all the answers, God is too big for that. But I will try to wrestle with them some today.
It would be a strange morning at glennon heights, if Betsy started worship by slaughtering a goat here on the altar to appease god. We don't make sacrifices to God in the way that early Israelites would have. Isaiah is writing for a people who are familiar with the notion of sacrifice, animal and grain offerings were practiced regularly in the temple. And once a year, on Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, all of the sins of the people were transferred to a goat who was then run out of town. (this is where we get the phrase, scape goat). So for Isaiah, and his audience, the Israelites in exile, the idea that a sacrifice could appease an angry God and change their situation was quite familiar. The Israelites' were trying to figure out how to restore their relationship with God, and sacrifice made sense to them. Isaiah's prophecy of the faithful servant, giving his life would have made sense, a human sacrifice would have been unusual, but understandable.
And for the Early Christian community, again, the early Christian community wasn't all Christian; they were Jews, who were themselves familiar with Hebrew Bible. After the death of Jesus, people were trying to figure out what Jesus' death meant. As people familiar with Hebrew Bible and with Isaiah in particular, it is easy to see how they would have interpreted Jesus'death using the Isaiah passage, ``He was wounded for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities, he was despised and rejected by others…,out of his languishhe shall see light.'' For followers of Jesus, this passage may have helped explain why Jesus died, and what his death meant as a sacrifice for the sins of many. In the Hebrews passage, we again see people trying to make sense of who Jesus was and what his death meant- they describe him as the high preist, who like other priests is appointed by God to make sacrifices on behalf of others. But unlike other preists, Jesus himself is the sacrifice, ``through his reverent submission, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him.''
And for a while, this sacrifice framework was how followers of Jesus made sense of something that was unbearably sad, the death of their leader, their friend, the Messiah who would restore Israel. But this sacrifice framework is not the only way that people have tried to make sense of the death of Jesus.
In fact, we are still trying to make sense of what happened. If Jesus is the son of God, and if Jesus was the incarnation, ushering in Kingdom of God, why was he killed after only 3 years of preaching, teaching, and healing? What happened? It is sad. Did God really require Jesus to die as a sacrifice for our sins? At first glance, Isaiah 53 answers with a resounding yes. Again, the words of the prophet Isaiah are only one way that people have interpreted the death of Jesus. A
nother way that it has been interpreted it is that Jesus was killed not because God willed it, but because his message was radical, Jesus was upsetting people right and left, the Jewish religious authorities, as well as the Roman authorities were concerned about this rabble rouser. His message was dangerous to those who had power, they had much to lose if Jesus' message about upsetting the power structures and lifting up the lowly was come to true . It was a time of political instability, and Those with power were not about to give it up for the promise of the kingdom. In this framework, Jesus is not a necessary sacrifice, but a radical social transformer, whose message was threatening to the powerful. His death was not a requirement for our salvation, it is his through following his life and his teachings we are saved. J. Denny Weaver ( a Mennonite theologian and biblical scholar writes that ``Since Jesus' mission was not to die but to make visible the reign of God, it is quite explicit that neither God nor the reign of God need Jesus'death…'' Ibid. 72 God did not desire the death and suffering of Jesus on the cross. Jesus was not participating in some divinely sanctioned act for our salvation. Again, this is one interpretation.
Where does that leave Isaiah? And where does that leave us? If Jesus'did not ``give up his life'' like a lamb led to the slaughter, and his suffering on the cross is not something that we need to emulate, we're good right? We don't need to suffer, we only need to follow Jesus. Well, that's not quite the whole story. In fact, in the Mark passage that was also the lectionary text for today, James and John ask Jesus if they can sit on either side of him, sharing his glory. Jesus replies, ``You don't know what you're asking, are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?'' James and John assure Jesus that they are able. But later, when the cup of suffering comes to Jesus, no one is able to drink it with him. To follow Jesus is to share in both the glory of sitting on his right and left side, but also, to bear the suffering of the cross, to drink the cup that Jesus drank. Not because suffering in and of itself is required, but because following Jesus is dangerous.
So which interpretation is right? Is Jesus that sacrifice that saves us? Or is he just a role model was killed? Both contains pieces of truth, the point is, Jesus was a revolutionaty, he did suffer, he was killed, and as the word made flesh, Jesus died and rose again in a way that radically changed how we understand faithful obedience. And we are asked to follow him. Many of us may be uncomfortable being told that suffering is a part of following Jesus, I don't think Jesus wanted to suffer either, I don't think God likes to see us suffer. But I think God wants us to do what is right, what builds up the kingdom of God. And in this life, our actions always have consequences, just as Jesus' did. God does ask us to be obedient, to trust in the fullness of God's purposes, which we cannot fully understand in this life. How much did Jesus understand of what was required of him? No doubt he was familiar with the Hebrew Bible, did he read Isaiah 53 and understand where this was headed?
For me, one thing that leads to a fuller understanding of Isaiah and Isaiah's disturbingly violent language, is that we don't know with certainty that Isaiah was talking about Jesus. It's prophetic, but it's not specific. Biblical scholars think that it's equally reasonable that Isaiah was talking not about a single person, but about a group of people, whose radical sacrifices would change the very nature of the human situation. In this interpretation, Isaiah need not be taken literally, but figuratively. In this understanding, we could all be God's servants bearing the sins of each other and responsible for the salvation of each other.
And I think that in community, this is exactly what happens, we do make sacrifices for each other, we are affected by the sins of each other, and with the help of God, we are made righteous together. Let me read part of Isaiah again, changing the language only slightly to make it applicable to the whole community , ``when you all make your lives offering for sin, your days shall be prolonged, you shall see your offspring, through you all , the will of the Lord shall prosper. Out your anguish you shall see light. You shall find satisfaction through your knowledge, the righteous ones, my servants shall make many righteous, and together, you will bear each other's iniquities.''
What are the ways that we are asked to be obedient to God for the sake of each other? Jesus was not forced against his will to give up his life; he gave it freely when he made the decision to be obedient to God. We are not coerced, but when we offer ourselves freely to each other and to God's mysterious purposes, the Kingdom of God is revealed in a new way. We are not forced to submit to the will of God, but like Jesus, we can choose to be faithful to what God is calling us to do. And there may be consequences, we may suffer. We may even be killed. Following Jesus is a dangerous business. But through it we gain deeper relationships with each other, and with God, and as we do this, we are able to let go of the things we thought were most important, even our own lives, for the sake of furthering God's dreams.
This isn't just throwing in the towel and saying ``whatever happens,happens.'' It is a conscious decision to trust God, and allow our lives to be used for God's purposes. Jesus wasn't God's passive puppet, his life was full of action, preaching, teaching and speaking truth to those in power. But when the authorities came for him, Jesus did not fight back, but rather trusted in the providence of God, trusted that though this seemed very much like it was the end, there was more. God's plan was bigger. Had Jesus taken things into his own hands, rounded up an army and fought back, things would have ended up very differently. But through Jesus' steadfast obedience to God, God was able to use Jesus, in life, in death, and through the resurrection to show that God's steadfast love does have the final say, even over death. Jesus' death was not in vain, Jesus was more than a revolutionary who was killed, more than a sacrifice led to the slaughter, He was a person whose radical obedience changed the very nature of society. Jesus changed the way that we too can care for each other, can speak truth to power, and give up the need to control our lives, trusting God, and trusting each other.
And we can do this here at Glennon Heights, by carefully listening and discerning how God is speaking to us. What are the ways that we are asked to be obedient to God for the sake of each other? We are asked to teach Sunday School, serve coffee, give money freely to those who ask, bid on quilts, visit each other in our homes, turn in our pledges, welcome visitors, sign-up for child care, and as we do these things freely and for each other, we open ourselves up to the reality that God is working in our lives in very real and tangible ways. And we do not do this work alone. We do it together, trusting in the goodness of the one who created us, and longs to restore creation to its original good-ness.
And next time I get my haircut, I'll be ready. I'll tell my hairdresser that that death of Jesus is only sad when it ends on the cross. By following in the footsteps of Jesus through humble service, steadfast obedience and radical love, we continue the work that Jesus started, making manifest the Kingdom of God here on earth.

Wed, 28 Oct 2009 01:31:59 GMT Your heart your treasure 10-11-09.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Your heart your treasure 10-11-09.rtf@CB2 Sermon for October 11, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passage: Mark 10:17-31

Your heart, your treasure

         Today is Stewardship Sunday. So what does that mean? It means that it's time, once again, for us to start planning for the coming church budget year which will start on January 1. It's time, once again, for each of us to think about what it is that we have to give. It's time, once again, for us to take stock of our gifts our time, our talents, our money and decide whether or not, or to what extent we can invest them in the work of this congregation.
         All this past week I thought about Stewardship Sunday. I read and reflected upon our passage from the gospel of Mark about Jesus and the rich man and how hard it is for the wealthy to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. I noticed Jesus' love for this man and his sincere search for God. I felt the pain of the man's grief as he turned away from Jesus, unable to do what Jesus asked of him. I wondered if this rich man's heart was ever changed, whether the Holy Spirit worked within him to make the impossible possible. And I wondered whether I'm in that same position. Do I choose to only follow Jesus so far and no farther? Do I, too, turn away when Jesus asks me to depend completely on what God will provide? I began to ask myself, what do I trust, really? What do I expect from God? What am I willing to do with my treasure? And what does that reveal about where my heart truly is?
         I want to share with you an excerpt from an article I found in the September 8 issue of The Christian Century magazine. The article is entitled, ``Economics for disciples.'' It was written by Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove. He makes some very interesting and challenging observations. This is what he has to say:

``The greatest obstacle to faith in our time may be that most of us are too invested in securing our own futures to trust Jesus for the good life he wants to give us now. It's not that we want to reject Jesus; most of us want more than anything to trust God's abundance. But we are constantly dazzled by earthly treasures and their promise to make the world safe and enjoyable for us.
``Most of us believe that if we put away a little each month in savings we can ensure a good education for our children and a comfortable retirement for ourselves. We don't mean to be selfish when we think this way. It just seems reasonable. This is how the world's economy works, even when we take the time to think of others. But in light of Jesus' economics of providence, such economic work and worry seem a bit off. Do we really trust the abundance of God's economy or the goodness of God's family? Could it be that responsible Christian parents should give away all their extra money each month instead of putting it into a college savings account or an IRA?
``Strange as it may seem, this is what Jesus challenges us to do entrust all of ourselves and our resources to God's kingdom alone. ``Where your treasure is,'' Jesus says matter-of-factly in the gospel of Matthew, ``there your heart will be also.'' It sounds simple, but it's an important point: we care about the things we invest in, and the shape of our investments reveals the shape of our hearts.
``Take my brother, for example. He loves to hunt deer. No one has to ask him if he loves hunting; you can tell by what he invests in. He owns a cabinet full of guns, a camouflage coat, and boots with toe warmers for cold autumn mornings when he's sitting in a tree stand. He subscribes to Outdoor World. He records action (or not) at his favorite hunting spot day and night. Even when he had to borrow a gun my brother would get up before dawn and sit perfectly still in the bitter cold, looking for the Big One. He is personally invested in hunting. His heart is in it.
``We invest in the things we love and our hearts get wrapped around the things we invest in. This is why we talk about the importance of `buying in' when people commit to things that are difficult. If we pay for a diet program, we're more likely to stick with it. If we make sacrifices for a relationship, we're more likely to value that relationship. Marriage counselors often tell people who feel they're growing apart in a relationship to invest in their partners now, before they become even more distant. Put your treasure into a relationship, they say, and your heart will follow.''

We invest in the things we love, says Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, and our hearts get wrapped around the things we invest in. In other words, we can't maintain two separate but equal spheres -- that which is God's and that which is ours. We can't hedge our bets and hope to come out even. We can't pledge total allegiance to God and still keep most of what we have and are to ourselves. Those two things are incompatible; they can't co-exist. Heart and treasure go together, no matter how we might try to keep them separate. Where one is, the other will be also.
So, where is it that we want our hearts to be? This is something we have to think about. We are Christians. Through Jesus Christ we have come to know that God has come near to us. Through Jesus it has been made clear that we have received forgiveness and acceptance in God's eyes. We have been invited into God's house, to live there. And we have been assured that we are safe in God's everlasting, steadfast love. Through Jesus we have been given purpose and meaning. We have been given life. Our hearts respond with joy and thanksgiving. Because of Jesus we know where we belong. We have found our heart's home.
If this is true, it is where our treasure must be invested as well. Even if we're not sure about what this might mean for us, even though it sometimes seems impractical or unwise according to the standards of society around us, if we want our hearts to remain with Jesus, we must make a choice. We must invest our time, our talents and our money in the work to which he calls us. We must we willing to sell all that we have and invest our treasure in the upside-down economy of God's kingdom.
         This is Stewardship Sunday. In your mailboxes you will find a manila envelope. In that envelope is information on ministries that this congregation supports in addition to maintaining this building, paying staff and buying the materials we need to keep ourselves operational. There is also a pledge sheet in that envelope. And a Gifts for Service form. As you look through this material and consider what gifts and resources you have to offer, take time to think about where your heart is. And where you want your heart to be. Invest your treasure there. Find ways to buy into God's kingdom. Support of Glennon Heights Mennonite Church is not the only option, of course, though we hope you will consider it. Listen to the voice of Jesus. Accept the challenge. Accept the risk. Put your trust in the promised abundance of God's economy. And you will be able to follow Jesus with all of your heart.
         Amen.
Wed, 28 Oct 2009 01:31:47 GMT What God has joined together10-4-09.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=What God has joined together10-4-09.rtf@CB2 Sermon for October 4, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passages: Genesis 2:18-25 and Mark 10:2-16

What God has joined together

         I have explained to you before that, when it comes to preaching, I tend to follow the lectionary. The lectionary is a three-year cycle of scripture readings. Look at the small print on the back of your bulletin cover. You'll see four scripture passages listed there under ``Bible readings for today'' and ``Bible readings for next Sunday.'' These are the lectionary passages. For each Sunday there are two passages from the Old Testament, and two passages from the New Testament. As I prepare to preach, week after week, I read these passages and I let them simmer in my mind and heart. I look for connections among them and I listen for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. It has been very interesting and inspiring! to see where and how the Spirit leads.
         I say all this to let you know that I did not choose the scripture passages for today. In other words, I didn't go looking for them because I had an agenda. But there they were, the Bible readings for this Sunday. When I first read them, my heart sank. ``Oh, no, not these passages,'' I thought. ``These are too hard. What can I say?'' I wonder if as you heard these passages read this morning, some of your hearts sank as well.
Our hearts sank because these particular passages of scripture have been used over time to oppress and subjugate. They've been used to chastise and exclude. Those of you who are divorced, those of you who are children of divorce, those of you who have family members who have gone through divorce, know the deep pain and disillusionment that is part of that brokenness. Some of you also know the deep pain of feeling judged as a failure and unfit for Christian fellowship. I bow my head in shame and my heart cries out for all the hurt that we as a church community have caused each other over this issue over the years. I do not believe that this is God's intention for us and I ask for forgiveness.
So, what is God's intention? What do these passages of scripture have to say to us today? Is there some good news here? And if so, will it heal some of the pain of the past? This past week I spent time with these scripture passages. And as I studied and reflected upon them, I felt the Spirit moving. I felt my heart lifting. I felt joy in God's deep caring for creation. And I felt comfort in the unshakable integrity of Jesus who will not be derailed. So, I come to you this morning in confidence that, yes, there is good news in these passages and it is good news that we can live into, even in our weaknesses, even in our inability to always make things turn out right.

         Let's look at these scripture passages. Our reading from Mark 10 starts out with the Pharisees. They have come to Jesus to test him. This is a familiar theme. The Pharisees don't much like what Jesus has to say or the fact that he has so many followers. They keep trying to find ways to prove him wrong. They keep hoping he'll get himself in trouble and they're not averse to setting up situations in which that might happen. This story is case in point.
         The issue of divorce and remarriage is a hot topic in this time and place. In fact, broaching this topic turned out to be lethal for John the Baptist. In Mark 6 we have that story. John the Baptist speaks out against the current state of affairs in the royal palace. ``It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife,'' he tells King Herod. And it is not lawful for your brother's wife, Herodias, to be married to you. For saying this he is arrested and thrown into jail. And eventually he is killed. The Pharisees know this story. Perhaps they are hoping that if they play their cards right Jesus will get himself in similar trouble. Maybe if they bait him correctly Jesus will be compelled to say something that will anger the Roman authorities. Then they would step in and take care of things. And that would get Jesus out of the way.
         So the Pharisees ask Jesus, ``Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?'' Jesus turns the question back to them. ``What did Moses command you?'' he asks. ``Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce his wife,'' they reply. They are referring to Deuteronomy 24. Yes, Jesus agrees, that commandment exists and perhaps it serves a purpose, but, he says, it is only a footnote; it is not the real story. And at this point Jesus reorients the discussion. He moves away from legalistic nit-picking. He changes the focus from regulation to creation. It is not divorce that we should be pre-occupied with, he says, but with marriage. From the very beginning, he reminds them, committed, loving relationships have been God's intention for humankind.
         He refers them to Genesis 2, the other passage that we read this morning. At our church retreat worship service up at Camp in September we spent quite a bit of time listening to and reflecting on the creation story of Genesis 1. Over and over in that first chapter of Genesis, we hear that God sees that what has been created is good. Indeed, it is very good. But here in chapter 2, things are a bit different. A human being has been created. God formed this living being out of the dust of the ground and breathed life into him. What a miracle! God sets this new living being up in a lovely garden. But something is not quite right. Something is missing. And God recognizes the problem. ``It is not good,'' God says, ``that this human being should be alone. I will create a partner for him.''
         I find it fascinating that in this story, God seems to be experimenting. God doesn't know exactly what will fill the bill for this first human being. God creates the animals and the birds and brings them to him. Perhaps one of these will do the trick. The man gets a kick out of naming all the animals and birds but even in all that amazing variety, there is not a companion for him. So, God goes back to the drawing board. The man falls into a deep sleep. God takes a rib from his side and goes to work. God expands upon God's previous creation. And out of this piece of the human being who had already been created God makes another human being, a woman. When the man awakes, God presents to him the woman. ``Is this what you have been missing?'' God asks. ``Is this what you need to make you happy and whole?''
         The man's response makes me smile. It fills my heart with joy. ``Yes, yes!'' he cries. I imagine him laughing and dancing and singing with pleasure. ``This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.'' This at last is someone like me. This is a person who is my equal, my partner. She is someone with whom I can talk, someone I can love and care for. She is someone who will talk with me, and love and care for me. With her, I am no longer alone. We are in this together.
         And, I imagine, at this point God steps back and looks at what has been created and sees that it is very good. You two human beings shall cling to each other, God says to them. You shall spend your lives in committed relationship with one another. Open your hearts to each other. Hide nothing. Be your true naked selves with each other. Nurture a deep trust for one another. Together you will be strong. In loving each other you will learn what true love is. You have been made in my image. In your love for each other, you reflect my love for you.
         And this, says Jesus to the Pharisees and his disciples, is what marriage is all about. Marriage is not a contract for services with clauses and conditions. It is not an agreement that is only valid for a period of time. And it is not something to be entered into lightly. When two people truly commit to caring for, building up, supporting and loving one another for better or for worse they become as one in God's eyes. And there is perfection and strength and support and true satisfaction in this unity. It is not to be trifled with. What God has joined together, let no one separate. This deep partnering is what God had in mind at creation. It is God's intention for humankind. It is a sacred trust.
         Well. That's well and good but what happens when things go wrong, as they inevitably do? When the disciples get Jesus alone in the house, they continue the conversation. They ask Jesus some hard questions. ``We have this rule from Moses which allows for divorce,'' they say. It's a part of the law. So, is it valid? Does it work? If a man, say Herod, follows this rule and divorces his wife so that he can marry his brother's wife, is he free and clear as far as God is concerned? And how about a woman who does the same thing? If she gets a legal divorce so that she can marry another, is this OK in God's eyes? Can they get away with it can we get away with it if it is done in a way that follows the law?
No, says Jesus, you're missing the point. You can't get past God's call to marital faithfulness by playing legal games. Betrayal is betrayal. Adultery is adultery. Creative use of the legal system can't change that. The rule of Moses concerning divorce was put in place to control abuses and to protect the victims of divorce. It is not a guide for behavior. It is not a standard to be followed. To believe that it is, is ``human thinking'' which leads to justifying lust and sexual sin. It leads to seeking easy ways out of challenging situations, and playing games with texts. God calls you to think differently, to think in divine ways. Instead of seeking out legal loopholes, look for God's true intentions and choose accordingly. Put your focus on what builds up instead of what tears down. Committed relationships between human beings are grounded in God's creative love, not the realm of law. God's love is the starting point and it is the ending point as well.
         And at this point in our gospel passage the story moves rather abruptly from this very adult discussion between Jesus and his disciples about divorce and adultery to a setting where there are children. And maybe it's meant to be so. The lives of children are vitally affected by these matters. And where there are children, there are women, who in this setting in the ancient Middle East are also dependent and relatively powerless. Bringing children and women into the picture keeps it real. This segue in the story may well be a reminder that these things that Jesus, the Pharisees and the disciples have been discussing are not just abstract ideas. The way that we handle marriage and divorce affects real people's lives.
         Now it is interesting, in and of itself, to see children showing up again in a passage from Mark. We saw them a couple of weeks ago in Mark, chapter 9. Then I talked about the non-status of children in Jesus' day and how it was probably shocking to the disciples when, in response to their argument about who is the greatest, Jesus pulls a small child onto his lap and says, ``Whoever welcomes one such child, welcomes me.'' You'd think that that would have been pretty memorable for the disciples. But, looking at this story in Mark 10, it seems that the disciples haven't yet learned that lesson. Here they are, just one chapter later, chasing the children away. Here they are, still trying to control who can have access to Jesus.
         When Jesus sees them doing this, Mark writes, he is indignant and says to them, "Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it." And he takes them up in his arms, lays his hands on them, and blesses them.
         So, what does this scenario have to do with Jesus' teachings on marriage and divorce? It puts everything into perspective. As I said before, children in this time and age were nobodies. They were not noticed by adult males. They had no status. And they were radically dependent on the father of the family. At the time of birth it was the father who would decide whether or not the child would be accepted into the family. And being accepted was not a given, especially for girl babies. Each child was entirely dependent for his or her own existence and survival upon the father's grace and good will.
         As followers of Jesus we are radically dependent on God's grace. And that is the way we come before God. Whether we will be accepted into God's family is not up to us. We cannot set conditions for entering the kingdom, for ourselves or for others. We come to God just as we are, with all our gifts and all our weaknesses. We come with our successes and our failures. We come having lived faithfully into our committed relationships. We come having seen those relationships crash and burn. We come to God from wherever we are, and it is up to God, not us, to decide if we will be accepted into God's family. We come as dependent children, unable to exercise any power on our own. Unable to influence God's final decision. Like the children in this gospel story, we come to God as relatively powerless nobodies, hoping for a blessing. ``Don't stop them,'' Jesus says. He speaks to the disciples. He speaks to us when we are prone to judge and to exclude. ``Let them come to me.''
         With Jesus it is always a matter of inclusion, not of exclusion. It is a question of marriage, not of divorce. Jesus helps us to focus on what brings life. The good news is that we have been created to love and to be in love with each other. To live in committed relationship. To be joined as one. To help and care for one another. We may not do this perfectly but we can still believe deeply that this is what God wills for us. And we can keep our eyes on what is perfect and right and true.
As our hymn of response this morning we're going to sing a wedding song, ``O Perfect Love.'' But as we sing this I want you to change the pronouns. We won't be singing about ``them,'' a couple who are getting married. Instead we'll be singing about ``us''. Listen to the words:
O perfect Love, all human thought transcending,
lowly we kneel in prayer before thy throne,
that ours may be the love that knows no ending,
whom thou forevermore dost join in one.

O perfect Life, be thou our full assurance
of tender charity and steadfast faith,
of patient hope, and quiet, brave endurance,
with childlike trust that fears not pain nor death.

Grant us the joy which brightens earthly sorrow.
Grant us the peace which calms all earthly strife,
and to life's day the glorious, unknown morrow
that dawns upon eternal love and life.

         Amen.
Wed, 28 Oct 2009 01:31:38 GMT A fair balance.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=A fair balance.rtf@CB2 Sermon for September 27, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passage: 2 Corinthians 8:8-15, 9:6-15

A Fair Balance

         Sometimes we Mennonites are ahead of the times: As a denomination we were already discussing the health care crisis back in 2005. Or perhaps we're behind the times: The late Senator Ted Kennedy and others have been working for decades on health care reform and we've only just begun. But, early or late, we've gotten into the game. As a denomination, we are trying to find a practical way to respond to those among us who are in need.
         Back in 2005 at the biennial Mennonite Church USA Convention in Charlotte, North Carolina, health care was on the agenda. As a denomination we approved a Healthcare Access Statement which read, in part, ``Because the scriptural test of a just nation is how it treats its weakest members, we will be clear and consistent advocates to policy makers on behalf of public health matters and access to healthcare for everyone.'' At that Convention, we took a stand.
         Then we stepped back and looked at ourselves. We took stock of our own situation. And what we saw is that among us there are pastors who have no health coverage. Among our 939 Mennonite Church USA congregations, only 20-30% provide pastors with health insurance. (I'm happy to report that Glennon Heights is one of these congregations. For this I am very grateful.) This doesn't mean that all these other pastors have no health coverage. The pastors of 60-70% of Mennonite Church congregations get insurance coverage through their spouses' employment. But it is the case that the pastors of about 8% of Mennonite Church congregations have no health insurance at all. As a percentage 8% may seem relatively insignificant, but it represents 75 persons and their dependents. Seventy-five pastors serving Mennonite Church congregations, and their families, have no health insurance at all.
         Who are these uninsured pastors? Some serve small congregations who, though surviving and even thriving, have very limited financial resources. We know at least one of these congregations well. East Holbrook Mennonite, my home church in Cheraw, Colorado, recently called John Stoltzfus as pastor. In rural southeastern Colorado neither John nor his wife, Brenda, have been able to find outside employment with health benefits. And this small congregation cannot afford to pay health insurance premiums in addition to John's part-time salary. John and Brenda have answered God's call to serve but it means that they have no health coverage.
         Many of the Mennonite pastors who are uninsured serve congregations made up of recent immigrants. Constanzo and Marcella Aguirre used to have health insurance, until they were called to serve as pastors of Centro Cristiano Vide Abundante in Aurora, Illinois. Their congregation includes about 150 people, most of whom have not been in the U.S. very long.
         ``The church doesn't have any funds to pay for insurance,'' says Constanzo. Accessing health care has been a bit tricky. ``We go to a hospital that is close by and get our check-ups,'' says Marcello. ``We try not to burden the church with that.'' When it comes to more costly procedures, the couple tries to get those taken care of when they visit their congregationally-supported missionary in Mexico.
         Pastor J.P. Mahsih's calling to ministry came when he was a child in India. ``After college, I joined the ministry in the Mennonite Church in India right away,'' he says. His journey has led him to the U.S. He is now pastor of the Asian Mennonite Community Church, also in Aurora, Illinois. ``Our congregation is very small,'' J.P says. It is so small, it can't afford to pay for pastoral health insurance.
         Lacking health insurance can be difficult for J.P. and his family. ``Doctors sometimes fear seeing people who don't have insurance,'' he says. ``Or they aren't as serious about their diagnosis.'' And although J.P.'s family has taken advantage of a charitable hospital located two hours way, the cost of travel and parking to reach their health care can be prohibitive.
         These are only three stories; there are others. As a denomination we took stock of this situation. Pastors serving the smallest, neediest, newest, most out-of-the way congregations among us have no health insurance. We remembered the words of our Healthcare Access Statement: ``The scriptural test of a just nation is how it treats its weakest members….'' And we said, we have to start in our own house. We have to work on health care reform within our denomination. At Charlotte in 2005 we asked our denominational leaders to begin working on a response. And in 2007 at the Convention in San Jose, California, we gave our executive leadership the mandate to begin developing a health insurance option that would involve all of us in providing coverage for pastors of all congregations, no matter how financially challenged or small. In giving this mandate, we started working on health insurance reform.

         All right. Now, let's step back in time about 2000 years to the Middle Eastern city of Corinth. Our scripture passage this morning was taken from the Apostle Paul's letter to the Corinthians. Paul is writing to the early church in that relatively prosperous city. And he's encouraging them to continue with an effort, a good effort, an appropriate response to need, that they began a year ago, but which has been faltering. ``Now finish doing it,'' he writes to them, ``so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means.''
         So, what is this all about? At first glance it looks like an inter-church competition. At the beginning of chapter 8 Paul tells the Corinthians about the churches of nearby Macedonia. He refers to the collection that they are taking for the poor in the church in Jerusalem. He talks about these Macedonian churches in glowing terms: ``During a severe ordeal of affliction,'' he writes, ``their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. I can testify,'' he continues, ``that they voluntarily gave according to their means, and even beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints.'' Consider this example, Paul seems to be saying to the Corinthians. And think about your own paltry giving in comparison. Where's your zeal and commitment? Can you match what the poorer churches of Macedonia are doing? Are you going to let them show you up? Come on! Get moving!
         Now, I have no doubt that in this passage Paul is giving the Corinthian church a verbal kick in the pants. However, he is also talking to them about something much bigger. He is encouraging them to think and to act more faithfully. He is reminding them that they are people who have received a great gift and that they are called to respond in kind. In Jesus, he says, God gave you all there is to give. This gift that you received is marvelous beyond words. Through it you have been connected, irrevocably, permanently, to steadfast love and to everlasting life. The only possible response is for you to give freely and cheerfully as well. There is no greater tribute than to follow. There is no better way to show your gratitude than with acts of generosity which, in turn, bring praise and honor and thanksgiving to God.
         That's compelling and encouraging but there is still more to it. This is not about symbolic giving. It's about giving deeply, sacrificially. It's about being vitally connected to the needs of others and giving because you have what they need to be able to survive and to thrive. What Paul is talking about in this letter to the Corinthians is much more than nice gestures of generosity. In this passage he is talking about giving that helps even the playing field, giving that restores a fair balance, giving that encourages unity. The relatively wealthy Corinthians need to hear this message. And this is a message that we, too, in our time and place, need to hear.
         We tend to misunderstand these next words of Paul's, I think. ``The gift is acceptable,'' he writes, ``according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.'' Ah, we think, that means that I don't have to give beyond what is reasonable. If I were rich, if I didn't have all these other financial commitments to worry about, I would surely give more. But as it is, this is as much as I can do. And I know it is acceptable because it is what I have, realistically speaking.
         Wrong, says Paul to the Corinthians, and to us in middle class America. You are wealthy. Relatively speaking, you are rich. And there's no getting around that. You have much. And remember, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have. From those who have much, much is demanded. When rich people offer only small gifts, Paul is saying, these gifts are not acceptable. In fact, they are often detrimental. They do not serve the cause of unity. They do not even the playing field. They do not restore a fair balance. Instead, they allow unjust situations to persist.

         This brings us back to the present, and the health care inequity that we've become aware of in our own denomination. Those whom we had asked in 2005 and 2007 to study the situation and come up with a plan, looked first to the scriptures. These words of Paul rang out to them: ``I do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you, but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need.'' What would be a fair balance, they asked? How can we make sure that our church is united and that everyone is cared for? How can we share this burden so that we are all strengthened and so that God's work among us is carried out? They went to work and came up with a proposal. They called it the Corinthian Plan.
         In short, the Corinthian Plan is a health insurance plan for Mennonite Church USA pastors and church employees working more than half-time. The insurance coverage comes through a recognized nation-wide provider. What makes the plan different is that those who have more, contribute more than the cost of their own insurance in order to provide coverage for those who have less. In addition to paying the regular insurance premiums, each congregation that joins will pay a small annual fee per regular attender as their contribution to mutual aid support. And each participating congregation will also contribute a pro-rated annual amount to ensure that all those who need coverage, will receive it. Congregations whose pastors receive health coverage through a spouse, can still participate by paying the mutual aid and access fees even if they don't buy the health insurance. The plan is set up to cover eligible persons regardless of pre-existing conditions. And coverage will be guaranteed as pastors move from church to church.
         So, as we requested, an alternative has been offered. The plan is on the table. The collection has begun, but we don't yet know the results. This plan will only go forward if 80% of all Mennonite Church USA congregations buy in to it. We don't know if enough congregations will opt to participate. I am grateful that Glennon Heights Mennonite Church is one of the congregations which has joined the effort. But there are many congregations who have yet to decide. And the deadline is this Thursday, October 1. I hear the Apostle Paul calling out to us from across the centuries, urging us on. ``Now finish doing it,'' he says, ``so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means.''
         Deciding whether or not to buy in has not been easy. Congregations, including our own, have had to ask hard questions. Is it responsible to add more cost to our already strained budget? Do we have to choose between mutual aid and missions? How do we weigh the trade-offs? Many congregations have struggled and are still struggling with these questions. Amy Frykholm wrote an article about the Corinthian Plan for The Christian Century magazine entitled, ``Health-care option: A Mennonite plan for mutual aid.'' In this article she recognizes the complexities and the uncertainties of this proposal, but she also sees a prophetic witness in the process. ``Whatever the outcome of the Corinthian proposal,'' she writes, ``every Mennonite Church congregation in the country will have grappled with the problem of health insurance in a concrete way. Each will have considered the tension between self-interest and care for neighbor. Each will have decided on what sacrifices it is willing to accept for the greater good.''
         And that is the bottom line, of course. How much are we willing to give for the greater good? How far are we willing to go to even the playing field? Are we willing to take some risks and give, or give up, enough to restore a fair balance? Is this what is being asked of us? Is this what God is calling us to do?
         According to the Apostle Paul, the answer is, yes. ``The point is this,'' he writes, ``the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.'' This is God's way. You don't have to hoard what you have or worry about scarcity. ``The One who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. Indeed, you will be enriched in every way for your great generosity.'' And God will receive the glory. ``The rendering of this ministry not only supplies the needs of the saints but also overflows with many thanksgivings to God.'' It is God's work that we do when we give out of what we have, not out of what we do not have. It is God's work that we do when we give fully and deeply and with true concern for the well-being of others.
         Keith Harder, the man behind the Corinthian Plan, visited many, many congregations across the country in the past two years. ``As we've talked with the church about this plan,'' he says, ``what we have seen is a deep longing for a revival of mutual aid practices in our church.'' I find this statement very hopeful. We as a church are not content with the status quo that benefits some of us and leaves others out of the loop. Instead, we yearn to be connected, deeply, to each other and to God. We want to respond in meaningful ways to all the hurt and inequity in our world. We long to share what we know to be real and to have it make a difference in people's lives. We want there to be a fair balance. And sometimes, sometimes, we're even willing to take risks to make this happen.
         May God bless our efforts and give us courage.
         Amen.


Fri, 2 Oct 2009 16:08:52 GMT Willing to yield.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Willing to yield.rtf@CB2 Sermon for September 20, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passages: Mark 9:30-37 and James 3:13-18

Willing to yield

You may have noticed in the past weeks and months of debate on health care reform that we as a culture are not skilled at giving others the benefit of the doubt. We don't spend much time thinking seriously about how someone on the ``other side'' might be thinking or feeling. We aren't often willing to yield to another's point of view. Instead we tend to act defensively. We shout our own opinions in order to drown out the opinions of others. We use sarcasm to belittle and undermine and to prove our own intelligence. We stop listening when we perceive that those who are speaking think differently than we do about what is right or true. Instead of listening we close our ears and plan a response that will show them the error of their ways. This happens on both sides of any issue. Like the disciples in our gospel reading this morning, we constantly argue among ourselves about who is the greatest.
In this passage from Mark 9, Jesus is focusing on his disciples. He has taken them away from the crowds. He wants to spend time with them, teaching them, helping them understand what he is really all about and what is to come. What he has to say to them isn't easy. In fact, it's incredibly difficult. He tells them that he will be betrayed and killed. And that after three days he will rise again. He wants them to hear this and to struggle with it and to understand how God is working through him. But instead they refuse to listen. They back off and shut down. They don't know how to deal with this. They don't understand what he is saying and they are afraid to ask.
Not only do the disciples not engage with these hard teachings of Jesus but they choose to put their energies elsewhere. They quit paying attention and focus on themselves. ``I'm smarter than you are,'' says one. ``I should be the leader of this group.'' ``Fat chance!'' replies another. ``You're a dork and you have no leadership abilities. I'm the one that the others will follow.'' ``Oh, give it up,'' breaks in a third. ``You're both blind and ignorant. I've been around the longest. I am the closest to the power at the top. I'm the one who can get things done. I should be the greatest.'' And so on and so forth. We know the drill.
As I reflected on this passage, it struck me that the way the disciples are acting is the way that children act when they are confronted with something that is too big for them to handle, or when they are anxious. They bicker among themselves. They fight. This is childish behavior. The disciples are behaving like children. Is this childishness what Jesus has in mind as he calls them to account and brings a little child into their midst? Is Jesus responding to their regressive behavior and assuring them that they are important to him even if they are afraid and acting badly? Possibly. There's probably some truth in that. But I think it's more likely that Jesus is pointing them in another direction. He is calling for a completely different way of thinking. He is redefining greatness.
In our modern American culture children may not be involved in big life decisions, but they are noticed. They are cherished. They are an important part of life. Children are so important, in fact, that whatever makes them happy is what drives the decision-making of many adults. However, this was not the case in Jesus' day. According to biblical scholars, a child in antiquity was a non-person. Children were virtually invisible in the world of men. They were always with women, who were also regarded as lowly. Children didn't really exist for men until they came of age. What Jesus does when he, a man, notices a child and takes this child into his arms is shocking. It is unheard-of. I imagine the disciples stepping back and looking at him with their mouths open, aghast. But then Jesus goes even further. He refers to this child, this insignificant non-person whom they would have never paid any attention to, as an example, for them. "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name,'' Jesus says, ``welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me." This is what I mean, Jesus says to them, when I say, ``Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.'' This is what I mean when I tell you why I am here and what is going to happen to me. ``Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.'' Whoever wants to be first, must be willing to yield their own interests in order to protect and build up and care for the interests of even the most insignificant others.
In our society today, children aren't insignificant. We can't use them as an example in the same way. We have to look further. Who are the lowly and invisible in our society? Who are the folks we don't see because that's just the way things are? Who are the folks who don't really matter according to our culture and society? Perhaps they are the ones who ride the bus in from outlying areas where housing is cheap to the regentrified city to clean the hotels and office buildings, to work in kitchens and sweep the streets. Perhaps they are the folks who are here illegally, doing dirty work for low pay and struggling to survive by staying under the radar. Perhaps they are the chronically homeless living in out-of-the-way places where we never go. Perhaps they are those who are old and alone, abandoned by their children and living each day in isolation, waiting to die. Who is it that Jesus notices in our world that we don't see? Who is it that Jesus holds up for us as an example? Who is it that Jesus calls us to welcome and to serve? How can we learn to see as Jesus sees?
A first step is to rethink our priorities. We must be willing to take a hard look at what we take for granted and where we are getting our cues for what makes sense. James challenges us to do this in the scripture passage we read this morning. ``Who is wise and understanding among you?'' he asks. ``Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth.'' If you are vying for position, if you are scrambling to stay on top, if you are concerned with how you are being perceived, if you are shoring up your status and collecting possessions for your own good, if you are tearing others down or ignoring the needs around you, you are operating according to the wisdom of the world. And you must understand that this is a standard that is empty and demeaning. It will hurt you in the long-run. ``For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind.''
So what is true wisdom? How do we recognize it? How do we live by it? ``Wisdom from above is first pure,'' writes James, ``then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.'' Let me say that again: ``Wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.''
Jesus teaches his disciples. Jesus tells them, and us, what you see in me is wisdom from above. I am living out before you God's willingness to yield. In me you see God's willingness to enter fully into your world without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. I have come to provide mercy and healing on God's behalf. I have come to walk with you, through the good and the bad, through pain and rejection and death. I am yielding my power; you will call the shots ``I will be betrayed and killed'' but that is not the end. For the love of God is bigger than whatever happens here. Life is stronger than death. Love is stronger than hate. This is what you will see revealed. This is what you can trust. Live into this love. Quit fighting amongst yourselves. Quit arguing about who is the greatest. Quit distracting yourselves with these disputes. Things are not what they seem. Those who are the greatest, are those who serve. Those who are invisible are made visible. Those who are the least are actually the most important. They are the gateway to God. Welcome them, welcome me and welcome the one who sent me.
As you go out into a new week, sisters and brothers, pay attention to those around you. All of those around you. See them as beloved children of God. Listen carefully to what they have to say. Be willing to yield your own interests in order to truly hear and build up the other. Know that as you do this, God's Spirit is working through you. Peace comes to those who make peace. This is the word of the Lord and it can be trusted.
Amen.

Fri, 2 Oct 2009 16:08:40 GMT The law of liberty.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=The law of liberty.rtf@CB2 Sermon for September 6, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passages: James 2:1-17 and Mark 7:24-37

The law of liberty

         The title of my sermon today is ``The law of liberty.'' This phrase appears in our scripture passage from James. These words caught my attention as I studied this passage. They are words that don't usually go together: ``law'' and ``liberty.'' What is James talking about? How are we supposed to understand this?
         Like the religious Jews of Jesus' day, we Mennonites have been people of the law. Many of us remember all the many rules that we, as church members, had to follow. We dressed differently. We didn't go to movies. We didn't dance. We didn't smoke. We didn't drink. We sang only certain kinds of music in church. Women had their place, and it wasn't in the pulpit. And there were other rules as well. Like the religious laws that the Pharisees followed in Jesus' day, these rules of ours were established in good faith. Like that Jewish religious community, our Mennonite community turned to these rules, this new law, as a way of helping us remain faithful to the way of Jesus and be a living witness to a the world.
         But as time went on, there wasn't much liberty in these laws, either for the religious Jews of Jesus' time or for us Mennonites in the 20^th century. They and we seemed to have forgotten the life-giving reasons behind what we did. The rules themselves became the important thing. For us Mennonites there has been a kind of back lash. Some folks would say that we've thrown out the rules, hook, line and sinker, and opted for liberty. We want personal liberty without all those archaic constraints. We want space to develop ourselves and grow as individuals. We want to be able to choose for ourselves what to believe and how to live. We don't want to be held accountable. And in this we are very much a part of the popular culture which surrounds us. Let freedom ring!
         So, what is it? Law or liberty? Can these two things co-exist?
         When I was a young adult, many years ago, I participated in a Mennonite Church Assembly. The theme of that Assembly was ``Free to be bound to be free.'' I think we had a theme song with that title as well. I don't remember the song but over the years since then I've found myself saying these words and thinking about what they mean. ``Free to be bound to be free.'' Now as I look at this passage from James I'm wondering if what we really want to be saying is that as followers of Jesus we are ``free to be bound to make free.'' That is how I am coming to understand the law of liberty.
         This passage from James gives us three ways of looking at what he calls the law. In verse 8 he writes, ``You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture.'' The royal law, he calls it, the law of the kingdom. What kingdom is he talking about? Rome? Jerusalem? There's a clue in verse 5: ``Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith,'' he writes, ``and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?'' Aha! The royal kingdom is the one that the poor will inherit. It belongs to them. So, the royal law is the law of the poor, the law that protects those who have little and includes those who are on the margins of society.
         What is the substance of this law? ``You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'' Here James is quoting scripture, Leviticus 19:18 to be exact. And he is quoting Jesus, who said that this commandment along with the commandment to love God with all one's heart, mind and soul sums up all the law and the prophets. ``You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'' This is the law of love. Love as the standard. Love as the call to action. Love as the measuring stick for what's the right thing to do. And love does not discriminate, James says. Our neighbor must include all who enter our space, not only those we find attractive or valuable to us, but above all those whom we find alien or of no consequence or even threatening. All who enter our space are our neighbors. All who enter our space are to be loved.
It is possible to break the law of love: ``If you show partiality,'' James writes in verse 9, ``you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors.'' Showing partiality is as unacceptable in God's eyes as murder or adultery. Though there are many nuances, there is no hierarchy of really bad and less bad laws to break. There is only the law of love, and to break it in any way is to veer off of God's path and to distance oneself from God, the giver of love and life.
``So speak and act as those who are to be judged by the law of liberty,'' James continues in verse 12. Here we are again with the law of liberty. In another version of the Bible this is translated as ``the law that gives freedom.'' What does the law that gives freedom have to do with the royal law, the law of love? I think of Jesus' introduction to his ministry in the Gospel of Luke: ``The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,'' he says, quoting Isaiah 61, ``because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free.'' Ah, here's the connection, here's the link: The royal law is all about bringing good news to the poor. And the law of liberty is about setting folks free. It's about release from captivity. When we encounter the law of liberty, whatever has held us captive, holds us no more. We are set free. But this is not a free-for-all; we are set free for a purpose: We are free but at the same time we are held to the law of love which compels us to set others free. We are free to be bound to make free. That which builds up, recognizes, gives honor to, breaks bonds, embraces, lifts up, and welcomes in, is what is lawful and right in God's eyes. That is what God wants from us in our relationships with others. That is the law of liberty. We are not called to judge, but to love and to be merciful. We are called to do whatever it takes to set folks free.
Now, this is relatively easy to say and perhaps to understand in theory, but how does it work? How is this put into practice? We have an interesting example in the scripture passage from Mark that we also read this morning. Let's take another look.
Now, you gotta love the Gospel of Mark. It's so sparse and down-to-earth. Gritty, even. In the Gospel of Mark Jesus, the Incarnate Word, is very human. He struggles and gets tired and is frustrated and we watch it happen. We can't turn away from it or dismiss it; we have to deal with it. This passage is a case in point.
Mark 7, verse 24: ``From Galilee Jesus set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there.'' Jesus is tired. He wants to get away. He wants to hide out for a while and not be noticed. He leaves the Jewish area of Galilee and goes into the land of the Gentiles. This is not his home territory; there should not be as many demands. Perhaps here he can rest. ``Yet he could not escape notice,'' the text goes on, ``but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.'' Even here in this foreign, faraway place a needy woman seeks him out. She comes into the house where he has sequestered himself. She comes into his private space. And Jesus reacts very harshly.
This woman is a Gentile, the text says, of Syrophoenician origin. This tells us her race; she is a Canaanite, a descendent of this land of Tyre and Sidon. These things woman, Gentile, Canaanite are all strikes against her, from the Jewish male perspective. And they might well have made Jesus, a Jewish male, uncomfortable. But Jesus is seldom derailed by such things. It's hard to believe that any of these things would have made him dismiss her so rudely. Perhaps there's more to it.
Biblical scholar Gerd Thiessen thinks that the tension in this story might stem from a situation of economic injustice. Land-locked Galilee, a Jewish homeland, exported agricultural produce through the Gentile coastal cities of Tyre and Sidon. These cities, in turn, depended on Galilee and similar regions for food. In periods of crisis or food shortage, when the farmers of the hinterlands, like Galilee, were struggling economically, they may have resented producing goods for the wealthy cities. Like many small farmers in poorer areas in our world today, the Galilean farmers may have had little control over the food they worked hard to produce, leaving them feeling frustrated, underfed and exploited by those in the region of Tyre and Sidon who benefited from their labor.
And here is the Syrophoencian woman, a member of this privileged group. A person who is benefiting from this unjust economic situation which is hurting the people of Galilee. She is a person who, relatively speaking, should be able to take care of her own needs. And yet this privileged woman has the gall to break into Jesus' time of rest and repose and ask him for help. She begs Jesus to cast a demon out of her daughter.
Jesus' first reaction is one of judgment: He says to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." Whoa. This is harsh. And this is Jesus talking. What's happening here? I imagine Jesus thinking of his Galilean people and how they've been exploited. I imagine him wanting to be on their side in this situation of economic injustice. I imagine him remembering the words of the Old Testament prophets condemning the rich and lifting up the oppressed. I imagine Jesus making a statement: What you represent, he says to this woman, is not what is just and right. And you don't deserve my help.
Well. Even Jesus has to learn what it means to follow the law of liberty, it seems. Even for Jesus this is not easy or obvious. It is so counter-intuitive. It goes against the cultural grain. Even faithful Jesus needs reminding that the law to which God is committed above all else is the law that sets people free. And this is true, even in an uncomfortable situation of injustice like this.
The woman sticks with Jesus. She knows she has a deep need that only he can meet. She responds, ``Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs.'' And as she says this, Jesus' eyes are opened. He no longer sees her as a representative of injustice to be shunned. He sees her as a person held captive. He puts his judgment aside and opts for mercy. He meets her where she is and gives her what she needs. He sets her free. He says to her, "For saying that, you may go. The demon has left your daughter." The woman goes home and finds her child lying on the bed, the demon gone.
You get the feeling that this was hard on Jesus. In the story he moves on through Gentile territory. Possibly still trying to find a place of rest. But again he is confronted with a situation of need. They bring to him a deaf man who has an impediment in his speech. But he doesn't respond immediately. It says in verse 32 that ``they begged Jesus to lay his hand on him.'' Jesus finally relents. He takes the man aside in private, away from the crowd, and puts his fingers into his ears. Apparently the Greek word used here is not quite that gentle. Jesus thrusts his fingers into the man's ears. Jesus spits and touches the man's tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighs, it says in the text. Again the meaning of the Greek word used here is actually stronger. Jesus groans heavily. This whole thing seems to be asking much of him. This seems to be something that he is doing almost against his will. But he continues. Jesus says to the man, ``Ephphatha,'' that is, "Be opened." And immediately the man's ears are opened, his tongue is released, and he speaks plainly. He is set free.
Now I don't really know why we have this portrait of Jesus in the Bible. I don't know why we have these two stories of healing in which Jesus seems so resistant. But there they are in all their difficulty. Perhaps they are there to let us know that this is no easy thing, living by the law of liberty. Even Jesus had problems with it occasionally. Perhaps these stories are there for us to ponder when we feel that surely God can't really mean for us to respond to the cries that we hear, these voices begging for our attention. Perhaps in these stories we see that God really is serious about mercy and that healing must happen. Whether we agree with it or not, those who are in bondage, must be set free.
Our passage from the letter of James ends with these words: ``What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.'' Faith without works is dead.
But living according to the law of liberty brings life. Listen to these words from the prophet Isaiah: ``Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water.''
Of course we are not Jesus. We cannot miraculously heal, but we can act out our faith in ways that respond to the needs around us. We can love our neighbors, whoever they might be, with an integrity that speaks from the deepest part of us to the deepest part of them and invites them wholeheartedly, freely, into the circle. We can trust that God will work through us to free and to heal even if we are uncomfortable and don't fully understand. We can choose mercy over judgment. This is the law of liberty and it is the law by which we will be judged. Jesus meets us on these terms. We, too, are set free. We, too, receive mercy. And we respond by passing on the freedom. Our faith is not dead. Instead, springs of water break forth in the wilderness around us. Life-giving streams flow through the desert. And we and all those around us drink and live.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.

Fri, 2 Oct 2009 16:08:29 GMT Abiding in Gods tent.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Abiding in Gods tent.rtf@CB2 Sermon for August 30, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passages: Psalm 15 and James 1:17-27

Abiding in God's tent

         ``O LORD, who may abide in your tent?'' the psalmist asks. ``Who may dwell on your holy hill?'' Are these the questions we should be asking today as we look forward to receiving new members into our congregation? Should we put Rhoda and John and Bethany to the test? Will they measure up to God's expectations? How about the rest of us? Do any of the rest of us fit the bill? Do any of us have what it takes to be hanging out in God's house, to be abiding in God's tent?
         Let's take another look at Psalm 15. Who may abide in God's tent? Those who walk blamelessly, says the psalmist. Those who do what is right, and speak the truth from their heart. Those who do not slander with their tongue, and do no evil to their friends, nor take up a reproach against their neighbors. Those who despise the wicked but who honor those who fear the LORD. Those who stand by their oath even to their hurt. Those who do not lend money at interest, and do not take a bribe against the innocent.
         Hmmm…that's a pretty high bar. I don't know if any of us can honestly measure up to all those qualifications. And that's generally how we look at lists like this, as if they are qualifications. Non-negotiables. Standards that we have to live up to in order to make it into God's good graces. Requirements that we must meet in order to be able to live in God's house. But what if these are not qualifications, but characteristics? What if they are not prescriptions, but descriptions? What if the psalmist is really saying, let's look and see: Who is it that is living in God's tent? Who is it that is dwelling on God's holy hill? Who are these people? What is different about them?
         Ah, look, they are folks who follow God in the way they live. They are honest. They speak the truth and they don't tear each other down. These folks aren't mean or greedy or self-centered and they don't kowtow to people who are. They notice and encourage that which is good. They do what is right even if it puts them at a disadvantage. And they don't take advantage of others. They don't use others to better themselves. You can tell by who they are and what they do that they are living in God's tent. You can see that they have truly learned to know God, for they are following in God's way.
         Learning to know God comes first. God comes to us in Jesus Christ. Through Jesus God offers us an invitation. There are no pre-requisites. God taps us on the shoulder. God draws us in. God opens up the doors to God's house and says to us, this is where you belong. We can choose to enter, and once we're in, we watch and learn, and we begin to practice. We practice what we learn. We practice what we see. This step is very necessary. The apostle James says it this way: ``Be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves.'' In other words, just saying that you believe is not enough. Conversion is an integral part of really believing. And conversion means change. It means becoming something new. It means acting out in everyday life what it is that we see revealed about God in Jesus. We don't do this perfectly, of course, but we do it in good faith. And the more we do it, the more firmly ensconced we are in God's tent. The more certain we are about God's love for us. The more able we are to show God's love to others. The psalmist says it this way, ``Those who do these things shall never be moved.''
         This is not an individual pursuit. Though God loves each of us personally and deeply and completely as individuals, we are not asked to do this alone. We are not expected to do this alone. We come into God's house as sisters and brothers, in relationship with each other as well as with God. We have each other to talk to, to listen to and to learn from. You can hear this in our passage from the letter of James. Listen again to the way he speaks: ``You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger.'' Get rid of your self-centeredness and your arrogance, he says, ``and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls.''
         I like this terminology, ``the implanted word.'' What a good conversion image! A seed has been planted deep within us and has taken root. It is alive. It is growing. And it is changing our interior landscape. But this seed, the ``implanted word,'' cannot grow without light and water and careful nurturing. It cannot grow if we aren't paying attention to it. The implanted word needs us to be involved, daily, through our choices and our actions, through our practices and our professions of faith, in keeping it alive within us.
         The church helps us do this. This is why we come together as a congregation. As the body of Christ, a group of worshipping believers, we pledge to walk together, to support and encourage each other and to hold each other up in the faith. We do this because real change is not easy. And truly following Jesus requires real change. It requires being different from the world around us. James calls this ``keeping oneself unstained by the world.'' In other words, not letting the assumptions of the world around us, our culture, our society dilute or color our commitment to Christ. Sometimes true change requires doing things that, from society's point of view, don't make a whole lot of sense. This requires trust, which must be constantly reinforced. Real change needs ongoing support.
         Church congregations are a lot like the family in the story I read for the children this morning. It all starts with a commitment of love for God and each other and a profession of gratefulness for all God has provided. There is a circle around the table. Hands are held. Hearts are raised. A song is sung. ``Here we are to thank you for this fine food. Here we are to sing your praise. We know you're with us, right where we are.''
We gather, we remember, we sing and the circle grows. New folks are invited in. Things get kind of disorderly. New people bring different ways of doing things and new expectations. But still there is a circle around the table. Hands are held. Hearts are raised. A song is sung. ``Here we are to thank you for this fine food. Here we are to sing your praise. And here we are, bringing our troubles to you, too. We know you're with us, right where we are.''
Over and over the song is sung. And it becomes a resource, an expression of what's happening to us and around us, and an acknowledgement of our trust in God. It is a part of everything we do. It is familiar and comforting even to those who grumble and complain. The song is a constant. A rallying point. A source of strength. It holds us together in times of upheaval and uncertainty and allows us to carry on. ``Here we are thank you for this fine food. Here we are to sing your praise. We know you're with us, right where we are.'' It is the song that comes from inside God's tent. It is our family song.
         The psalmist says, ``Those who do these things shall never be moved.'' Those who come together and sing this song and let it shape their lives shall never be shaken. Even in the worst of circumstances those who are righteous those who live out their faith in God with integrity, those who nurture the implanted word will have in God's presence and power a resource to sustain their lives. Even in the worst of circumstances, those who truly follow, those who believe and act and live in right relationship with each other, even when it might not be the most efficient or profitable thing to do, these folks will stand firm.
         This is why we come together. As a congregation we remember who it is that we follow. And we encourage each other as we follow. We know that Jesus calls us down a different path. It is hard to do things differently from the world around us; we each need all the help we can get. And so we gather around our family table, here in this sanctuary and in the fellowship hall after the service. We sing and we pray and we hear the word, together as a body. And we work together to figure out what it means to live out our faith. We ask each other: What does it mean to be truly honest? How have you learned to speak the truth? I notice that you're frustrated with how things are going at work, but yet you don't tear your co-workers down. That is remarkable and encouraging to me. How do you do that? What I see in you is deep respect for other people. I would like to learn to be that way as well. How do you make business decisions that are fair? How do you think I should handle this job situation that I'm facing? What would Jesus have me do? We help each other live the lives to which we are called as followers of Jesus. And together, we find ourselves living in God's tent.
         This morning we welcome Rhoda, John and Bethany into membership here at Glennon Heights. They are already a well-loved part of our church community. Already they have joined with us in our discernment of what it means to follow Jesus. Already they have offered and received encouragement in our midst. For this we are grateful. Today they will be making an official commitment to us as a congregation, a commitment to walk with us through the smooth and the rough places, and to build up our worshipping community. No, we aren't going to put them to the test. God has already invited them into the tent and here they are. Along with the rest of us. Together we are doing and will do our best to walk in God's way. Together we strive to do what is right in God's eyes, confident that with Jesus as our savior and our guide, we know the way. Together we abide in God's tent and we will never be moved.
         Amen.
Fri, 2 Oct 2009 16:08:18 GMT Difficult words of life.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Difficult words of life.rtf@CB2 Sermon for August 23, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passage: John 6:51-69

Difficult words of life

         I always cringe when I hear the words from the Gospel of John that Rose read for us this morning. The images are so graphic and grisly: ``Very truly, I tell you,'' Jesus says, ``unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.'' This makes me shudder. Are we called to cannibalism? Why on earth is Jesus talking this way? Couldn't he have chosen better words? Why does he have to use these awful images, this off-putting language? Can't he see that this makes things more difficult?
Apparently the Jewish religious authorities have much the same reaction. "How can this man give us his flesh to eat?" they ask each other, quite understandably. And Jesus' disciples are frustrated and confused as well. "This teaching is difficult,'' they say. ``Who can accept it?" In verse 66 we are told that many of Jesus' disciples are so confused and discouraged that they turn back and follow him no more. This is pretty serious stuff. It is a crisis moment. A turning point, in terms of discipleship. How are we supposed to understand this? What does Jesus mean?
To begin to understand, we have to back up a bit. In the first verses we read this morning Jesus says, ``I am the living bread that came down out from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever.'' Jesus identifies himself as the bread of life. Bread is to be eaten.
But we must back up further still to the beginning of the chapter of John 6: A large crowd is following Jesus. They are hungry; there is no food. A young man is found who has five barley loaves and two fish. Jesus blesses this small lunch of his and begins passing it out to the crowd. As he does this, it multiplies. And there is enough for everyone. There is bread for all to eat and be nourished.
         But this is still not everything we need to know in order to be able to understand. We must back up even further to the Book of Genesis and the story of the children of Israel wandering in the desert. They are hungry and discouraged. There is no food. They are desperate. They cry out to God in frustration. And God responds. Manna falls in the desert. It is bread from heaven. And there is enough for everyone. They eat and are nourished and live.
         The folks who are listening to Jesus as he speaks in this passage from John 6 are the Jewish religious authorities and Jesus' disciples. They know these stories. They've grown up with reminders of how God sent manna in the desert to save them. This is a well-loved and very familiar religious theme. And perhaps they were there on the hillside just days ago when Jesus prayed over the five loaves of bread and there was enough for all. These events are mind-boggling, perhaps, but still these folks have a way of understanding what they mean. These are mighty miracles old and new which illustrate God's care and provision. Almighty God provides real bread for real people in need. That makes sense. But here's Jesus, a human being, standing right there with them, likening himself to bread. Calling himself the bread of life. Bread from heaven. And not just metaphorically, it seems. Jesus is talking about his body as bread. He is talking about his own flesh and blood as something that can be, even must be consumed. This doesn't make sense. It just isn't the same thing. Jesus as bread for our lives? They can't make the leap.
         But this is the leap that God has made in Jesus. In Jesus, God goes further than ever before on behalf of humankind. God goes further than manna. Further than feeding the 5000. In Jesus, God doesn't just send bread for hungry people, God becomes bread. In Jesus, who is flesh and blood, here and now, a human being among human beings, God becomes everything we need to survive and to thrive. In Jesus, through Jesus, God gives us life. Come, take what I am offering to you, God says in Jesus. This is the living bread. Eat of it and you will never be hungry. This is the living water. Drink of it and you will no longer thirst. What I am offering to you in Jesus is real. It is flesh and spirit. Word and deed. Now and forever. Eat, drink, make me part of you. Take me into your body, into your thoughts, into your actions and your day-to-day lives. Do this. Eat this bread and live.

         As I was reflecting on this passage of scripture, I came across an article in the ``Christian Century'' magazine written by Matt Fitzgerald, senior minister of Wellesley Hills Congregational Church in Wellesley, Massachusetts. I like the way he writes about this passage: ``Jesus wants to move out of our minds,'' he says, ``and into our mouths, into our lives in a very real and even startling way.''
He continues with an illustration. ``I once worked as a support person for a group of developmentally disabled men who all had their own apartments,'' he writes. ``I helped them run errands, fill prescriptions, make dinner. In my first week of work I walked a client home and stood in the doorframe as he entered. He invited me in for a Coke. I declined, and he invited me again. I said no, and he repeated himself. After four invitations he took offense. `Come in!' he shouted. `I've got more pop than you can handle!' I backed away, unnerved. He never invited me in again. We did not become friends. Years later I regretted having rejected his hospitality, unhinged as it might have been.
``But I hear it echoed in Jesus' insistence that we eat his flesh and drink his blood. He says it over and over, seven times in seven verses, and though Christ may have more blood than I can handle, more flesh than I can manage, he will never stop issuing the invitation. He will give it again and again our whole lives long.''

         Jesus wants to move out of our minds and into our mouths, into our lives in a very real and even startling way. That's the difficulty, of course. We are being invited into something that shakes us up and makes us uncomfortable. We are being asked to consider doing something that may well turn our world upside-down. Eat my flesh. Drink my blood. This is no halfway deal. In Jesus, we are being offered the chance to take God into our very selves in a way that will change us. We are being invited to become an integral part of the way that God works here on earth and throughout eternity. We have before us God incarnate, showing us the way to live, concretely, completely, in flesh and in spirit, with no holds barred. ``Eat! Drink!'' Jesus urges us. ``Let me be in you. And you in me. Together we will build God's kingdom here on earth and in heaven. I live by the power of the living Father who sent me; in the same way, those who eat of me will live because of me. Come, eat and drink what I have to offer. It is life!''
         Later this morning we will be taking communion. Often we take the bread and the juice and remember Jesus' death and resurrection. And that is fitting. But this morning, as we eat the bread and drink the juice, we will think instead of Jesus' life. For in this passage from the Gospel of John, Jesus isn't yet facing death. Instead it is the beginning of his journey. It is the beginning of his ministry. In the chapters that follow, the story will unfold. Jesus will teach and travel. He will challenge the authorities and heal the sick. He will notice and care for those on the margins. He will stand with the oppressed and comfort those who grieve. He will forgive sins and bring the dead back to life. All of this is his flesh. All of this is his blood. All of this is his body, his life, his very being by the grace of God. And all of this is what he offers to us. It is the bread of life. And there is much more of it than we can handle. ``Come on in, take, eat, drink! Join with me on the journey,'' Jesus says. ``For it is your journey, too. Through my life, my flesh, my blood, God is inviting each of you into a life lived fully and completely for the sake of others in the everlasting presence of God.''

         As Jesus speaks these words in John 6, some of those who are listening begin to back away. I imagine their heads hanging down and their lips muttering. Slinking off, perhaps, feeling guilty or inadequate for what is being asked of them. Or maybe they are stomping away in frustration and disappointment, shaking their heads in disgust, feeling that they've been led on a wild goose chase. They can't make the leap. They can't buy what Jesus is selling. They can't even understand what it is. They're stuck in reality as they know it. They can't get past their pre-conceived ideas of what is possible. To them, what Jesus says makes no sense. And they can't go any further.
         At this point Jesus turns to the twelve disciples and asks, "Are you going to leave, too?" It is Simon Peter who replies on behalf of them all. He's not quite sure, either, exactly what Jesus has been talking about. He doesn't completely understand. It's all new and strange. But he does know where he stands. And he knows that really there's no other choice. "Lord, to whom would we go?'' he responds. ``You alone have the words of eternal life. We have believed, and have come to know that you are the Holy One of God."
         And that is our confession as well. We may not fully understand, but we eat, and we drink, and we follow, for we have believed and have come to know that Jesus is the Holy One of God. And he has the words of eternal life.
         Amen.
Fri, 2 Oct 2009 16:08:08 GMT Breathe and be filled.rtf http://glennonheights.co.us.mennonite.net/Worship/Sermons:=Breathe and be filled.rtf@CB2 Sermon for August 2, 2009
Glennon Heights Mennonite Church

Betsy Headrick McCrae

Scripture passage: John 20:19-23 and Ephesians 4:1-7, 11-16

Breathe and be filled

         One month ago in early July five of us from this congregation were in Columbus, Ohio. We weren't there for vacation, though we did have fun reconnecting with old friends and meeting new people. We were among the more than 7000 Mennonites who gathered in Columbus for the Mennonite Church USA Convention. Rhoda Blough was an official delegate representing Mountain States Mennonite Conference. I was a delegate representing this congregation. The two of us spent a lot of time in business meetings. Bruce and Andy and Emily Yoder-Horst were there as well. As non-delegates they were able to take in some of the many seminars and workshops, participate in the worship services, and spend time talking with people. It was an intense, tiring and invigorating time. We needed to stop occasionally and take a deep breath.
         The theme of the Convention was ``Breathe and be filled.'' Breathe and be filled. This theme comes from the scripture passage from John, chapter 20, which Bethany read for us this morning.
In this passage it is Sunday evening, only a couple of days after the horror of Jesus' crucifixion. Jesus' followers are gathered together. They are afraid and uncertain. They don't know what to make of all that has happened. They have heard talk of a resurrection but they aren't yet convinced. Surely such a thing is not possible. But suddenly Jesus is there in the room with them. He is right there, standing among them. He says to them, "Peace be with you." Then he shows them his hands and his side. It's really him. And the disciples rejoice, says the Gospel of John. I imagine a weight lifting off their shoulders. I imagine their hearts beginning to sing. They rejoice as they see Jesus, the one whom they have come to know as Savior and Lord, standing with them again, alive and whole and still in relationship with them. I imagine great joy!
         Again Jesus says to them, "Peace be with you.'' But that's not the end of his message. There's more: ``As the Father has sent me,'' he says, ``so I send you." When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit.'' This is the only place in the whole New Testament where this verb, to breathe, is used. Jesus breathed on his followers. Like God breathing life into human beings at creation. Like the breath of life being blown into the dry bones in the vision of the prophet Ezekiel, bringing them back to life. ``You, too, will have new life,'' Jesus is saying to his followers. ``The Holy Spirit is creating in you something new. The Holy Spirit now dwells in you. And the Holy Spirit will work through and within you to continue the work which God has started through me.''
         God's Spirit is breathed upon us and into us. We in turn breathe (take a deep breath) and are filled. We are filled with power and potential. We are filled with possibility. We are filled with assurance and with God's peace. Breathe (take a deep breath) and be filled.
         It felt to me like God's Spirit was moving among us in Columbus and that we were breathing deeply. There is always a sense of excitement and possibility when a large group of like-minded folks gather to work and worship. We are bolstered and encouraged by this very physical sign that we each individual and congregation are part of something bigger than any one of us. And it is wonderful to sing together (there were great musicians!) and to hear creative and inspiring preachers deliver their best. But there was more to it than that, I think. It felt to me like hearts that may have previously been closed, or guarded, were now open and searching. Among us there was a palpable desire for Spirit-led change so that we as a denomination congregations and individuals together can follow God into a future that is new and demanding and full of possibility.
         One good example of this change is our ongoing discussion about health care. Many among us in Mennonite Church USA have decent health insurance and receive good health care. However, there are also many among us, as in our society at large, who are not covered by insurance and do not receive the care they need. In 2005 we started to talk about what it would mean for us as a denomination to take a step toward rectifying this systemic injustice. In 2007 we asked our denominational staff persons to begin developing a plan that would provide health insurance coverage for all pastors. But as that work began, many of us thought it would be an impossible task. Such a plan would involve expensive trade-offs. It would cost too much. Congregations would not buy into it, we thought. Once we Mennonites were truly committed to mutual aid but we've become too much like the culture that surrounds us. There is no longer a willingness in our denomination to sacrificially care for one another. This is a good thing, a prophetic thing, to try, we thought, but it won't work.
         However, the Spirit is moving among us and all things are possible. In Columbus four years later, an insurance plan which will cover all pastors regardless of ability to pay or pre-existing health conditions, was presented as almost a reality. The Corinthian Plan has received strong affirmation. Already more than 70% of Mennonite Church USA congregations have made a commitment to participate, even though it will increase their costs. My soul rejoiced when I heard Keith Harder sum up what had happened. ``As we've talked with the church about this plan,'' he said, ``what we have seen is a deep longing for a revival of mutual aid practices in our church.'' This is Spirit-led, counter-cultural, practical change and it is sweeping our denomination. This leaves me with great hope for the future.
         As a delegate body we approved three resolutions on behalf of the denomination. One of these resolutions was to move even farther in our response to the health care crisis in this country. We agreed as a denomination that we will not stop with providing health care for the pastors among us who have none. We will also urge our congressional representatives to support legislation that would extend health care to all Americans, particularly the poor and disadvantaged. Caring for the weakest and most vulnerable members of our society is the work of God as revealed in Jesus. May the Holy Spirit guide us in knowing how best to respond.
         A second resolution which we approved as a denomination also grew out of our deeply held belief that we are called by God to care about and to respond to the needs of those who are being neglected, abused and oppressed. This second resolution is a statement against human trafficking, or modern-day slavery. Most of us are unaware of the scope of this problem. Human trafficking is the third largest criminal industry in the world today. Each year from 12 to 30 million people, mostly women and children, are sold into slavery for purposes of the sex trade or to provide sweat shop labor. And we are often beneficiaries indirectly, unknowingly, of this tragic situation. As a church, we said as we accepted this statement, we will recognize that this is happening around us and we commit ourselves to action. We will learn more. And we will speak out. As a body of Christ, we join our voices against all forms of human slavery. We commit to advocate for laws that protect victims and hold offenders accountable. We commit, as well, to taking personal responsibility as consumers, and to caring and seeking healing for those who have been enslaved. May God's Spirit open our eyes and our hearts and strengthen our resolve.
         The third resolution that we approved as a delegate body has a long title. It is called, ``A resolution on following Christ and growing together as communities even in conflict.'' If you read the Mennonite press, this is the resolution you've probably heard the most about. That's because it hits close to home. It represents strong differences of opinion among us and within us as the body of Christ.
         Very visibly present at Convention were a group of people mostly young adults but not entirely who feel deeply that those among us who are gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender should be fully accepted into fellowship in the church. This group is called PinkMenno. Andy and Emily are part of this group and they've talked with us about it. PinkMenno is made up of people of faith who have a deep love for the Mennonite church. They feel the pain of exclusion that folks who have a same-sex orientation have suffered at the hands of the church that they love. They believe that Jesus would stand with those who are being rejected and marginalized and that's where they stand as well. They have a strong desire for justice. They feel it is necessary for the church to change in order for it to be able to live and thrive and reach out to those in need. PinkMenno submitted a resolution for consideration by the delegate body. They asked the gathered church to resolve that congregations and individuals in leadership would no longer be sanctioned for including or advocating inclusion of folks with same-sex orientation.
         Also present at Convention were people who feel strongly that same-sex orientation and intimacy are counter to God's desire. I know that there are those in our own congregation who agree. They believe that these longings and any actions upon them are sin. They feel frustration that something that is so clearly stated in their understanding of scripture, is being ignored or dismissed out-of-hand. These folks are people of faith with a deep love for the Mennonite church. They know that this issue of homosexuality is a place of hurt and pain but they also believe that denying oneself is what is required, sometimes, if you are to take up your cross and follow Jesus. They feel strongly that the church must stand against sin in order to have any relevancy at all. They don't want to see the church weakened in its witness to the truth. A group of these folks also submitted a resolution for consideration. They asked the gathered church to strengthen the current church teaching position that marriage is between one man and one woman, and to curtail further discussion.
         The Resolutions Committee held these two contrasting resolutions in their hands. Each resolution represented a group of church members who are deeply committed to building up and being the church. Each resolution represented a group of believers, followers of Jesus, people who are acting out of faith and in response to God's call in their lives. How do we move forward with such an impasse? Where is the Spirit leading?
         As our second scripture reading this morning, Bethany read for us the words of the Apostle Paul to the church at Ephesus. ``I beg you,'' he writes, ``to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.''
We are one body. Even in disagreement, we are one body. It is unity in our faith in God that we are called to, even in the midst of our disagreements. Unity is not something that we can force or mold or define too tightly. Unity is gift from God. It is a gathering in and bringing together of disparate elements which are all focused on the same light. It really shouldn't work; it is an impossibility made possible by God's Spirit. Unity is a fragile and precious thing which must be handled with care. Humility, gentleness and patience are the glue which hold it together.
There are many gifts. There are many perspectives. There are many ways of thinking. And we are in this together. Even when we don't understand each other, we are to interact with each other with respect and with love. Love is the means by which truth comes into the community. We can trust that this is so. ``Speaking the truth in love,'' Paul writes, ``we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body's growth in building itself up in love.''
         Humility, gentleness and patience as the glue that holds us together. A willingness to honor each other as people of faith and to listen with love to each other's deeply held convictions. A place of trust where we can speak the truth to each other, even if we differ. This is unity in all its fragility and uncertainty. This is a place where God's Spirit can work.
         I think God's Spirit was at work in the Resolutions Committee in Columbus. They took these two contrasting resolutions and said to the delegate body, it is not the time for either of these particular resolutions. It is time, instead, for us to acknowledge that we have strong differences among us, differences which are within and integrally part of our body. It is time, instead, for us to remind ourselves of what we have learned about unity, that it is fragile and must be handled with care. It is time, instead, to recommit ourselves to respectful dialogue as a body and to trust that God will work within and among us as we agree and disagree in love. A new resolution to this effect was proposed and approved by the delegate body.
         This resolution reads: ``We call upon the Executive Board of Mennonite Church USA to provide and encourage the use of resources which will assist conferences and congregations to engage in discernment. Our hope is for a broad range of resources that help us live faithfully, extending hospitality to all of God's people. May the Holy Spirit guide and direct us through this time.''
         Yes, I felt the winds of the Spirit moving in Columbus. The winds of change, perhaps, but also the winds of hope. The winds of caring in real and sacrificial ways for those on the margins. The winds of fragile, precious unity among diversity. The winds of openness to and respect for each others' points of view. The winds of trust in God's presence with us no matter what. The winds of new life for the future of our Mennonite Church. It is and we are in God's hands.
Again Jesus said to his followers, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit.'' ``Receive new life,'' Jesus says to us. ``The Holy Spirit now dwells in you. And the Holy Spirit will work through and within you to continue the work which God has started through me.''
         Breathe (take a deep breath) and be filled with the Spirit of God.
         Amen.

Fri, 2 Oct 2009 16:07:58 GMT