Law vs. Faith

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Galatians 3:23-29
June 23, 2013


Now before faith came, we were imprisoned and guarded under the law until faith would be revealed. Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian, for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. And if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to the promise.

            How often have you had a conversation with someone who said something along the lines of, “It all boils down to following the 10 Commandments”? Or, “If people would just follow the Bible,…”?

            Among Christians, you hear a lot of comments that are similar to these, suggesting that if we would just follow the Commandments and the law of the Bible, then we would be right with God, and the world would be right with God. The problem is that they are wrong,... at least according to the apostle Paul.

            There are a lot of Christians who want to take us back to pre-Christ days, to a day when the expectations of faith were very different, although they don’t realize it. These Christians teach a Christianity that is all about following the biblical law found in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. They believe that true religion is all about doing the right things, following the law, and living in the right, proscribed way.

            So what’s wrong with that?  What’s wrong with following the law? Isn’t the law good? According to Paul, it’s not bad to follow the law, but it is limited, and ultimately impossible. Following only the law is limited because it turns religion into a matter of obeying an overlord disciplinarian, rather than God. You heard Paul say as much in our passage:  “Therefore the law was our disciplinarian until Christ came, so that we might be justified by faith. But now that faith has come, we are no longer subject to a disciplinarian,…” He is saying that the law ultimately failed because it’s role was to discipline our lives, not necessarily to open us up to God. The focus was on serving the law, not God, even though the law came from God. We too easily turn the law into a God-substitute.

            Actually, what Paul says is even more dynamic and powerful. He goes on to say that because we live a life of faith in following Christ, instead of following the law, we are now able to do what the law prevented us from doing. He says this when he says, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” This phrase is a powerful one because it goes beyond the law. The Jewish law proscribed differences between people. It outlined who is good and who is bad. For instance, it stated that Jews were to have no interactions, or at least limited interactions, with Gentiles (what Paul calls “Greeks”). It supported the idea that women were less than men, and that they were chattel, much like sheep and goats. It supported the idea of slavery. Paul’s statement is that there is now a life in Christ that takes us beyond these separations to make us one with each other and with God. Women are equal to men. Gentiles and Jews are now part of the same life. Slaves are now equal to their masters.

            Paul presents a different vision for how to live as a Christian, one that is focused on following in faith rather than following the law. What’s the difference between the two? The difference is that one leads to spiritual energy, the other to spiritual exhaustion. Let me show you the difference.

            Paul’s point is that following the law is an effort bound for failure because we tire of living that disciplined, and modern psychology is showing how true this idea is. In a book titled, Switch, by Chip and Dan Heath (two business and marketing researchers), they talk about an experiment done in a university to test the ability of people to follow the rules. They invited college students to be part an experiment that they said was testing the ability to remember and describe the taste of certain foods. They asked the students to show up for the experiment without having eaten in at least three hours. When the students showed up, the rooms smelled fantastic because the experimenters had just baked chocolate chip cookies.

            The students were individually placed in a room with a bowl of radishes and a bowl of cookies and chocolates. One-half of the group was asked to eat only cookies and chocolates, while ignoring the radishes. The other half were asked to eat radishes, but to leave alone the cookies and chocolates. Then the experimenter would pretend to have an issue requiring her or him to leave the room suddenly, with instructions to just eat one, not the other. The students were left alone in the room for 15 minutes. The good news is that the cookie eaters didn’t cheat and sneak radishes, but also, surprisingly, the radish eaters didn’t sneak and eat the cookies.

            It’s here that the real experiment took place. The students were then complimented for their honesty, and asked to take part in another experiment. They were taken into another room to solve a puzzle. They were given a certain geometrical design, and asked to turn it into another design by moving the lines, without lifting the pencil from the paper. They were given a stack of clean sheets of paper to attempt their tries. What they didn’t know was that the puzzle was actually unsolvable, and the experimenters were really testing how long the students were willing to try to solve the puzzle before giving up. The students who had eaten only cookies averaged 19 minutes of work, with 34 attempts. Those that had eaten only radishes averaged 8 minutes of work, with 19 attempts. In other words, those who had to demonstrate great willpower and restraint in ignoring the cookies basically ran out of willpower sooner during the puzzle experiment.

            How does this relate to the law? It basically says that obeying the law, which requires great amounts of daily discipline and willpower (much like ignoring cookies), eventually fails because people get discipline exhaustion. People get tired of trying to be disciplined, and there is a limit to their willpower energy. The failure of the law is that eventually even the best law followers get tired, break the law, and fail. Paul understood this, and proposed a different way. His way was to connect people directly with Christ, with the Holy Spirit, and to allow the power of Christ within us to lead us in the right way. This is the way of faith over law.

            Let me give an example of faith over law. As you may or may not know, I often work with other pastors, serving as a counselor, coach, and spiritual director. I help them find a way to become healthier in how they live as ministers and as people. As a result, I get to work with a number of pastors from different Christian traditions who struggle with things that they won’t share with others.

            A number of years ago I worked with a pastor who was coming out of a more fundamentalist denomination than ours. He was struggling with a number of issues, and one of them was a growing obsession with online pornography. Personally, I think the spread of cyber-porn has been a huge problem with men in general, and there are many male pastors who struggle with it, too. With the pastors it’s even more devastating because they know that they are not supposed to be looking at pornographic images, but the stresses of their vocations and lives often make them vulnerable because cyber-porn is so anonymous and easy to do. This pastor was struggling, and he said that the more he tried to stop, the more obsessed he became with it.

            Knowing what I know about how we can suffer “discipline exhaustion,” I took a different approach—one that is in line with what Paul says in our passage today. I told him to quit trying so hard, but instead to turn his obsession into an opportunity for prayer—to give it all to God. We prayed that God would help him and transform him, and then I suggested to him that each time he had the idea to look at porn, to turn this into a time of prayer. Each time, just say to God, “God, you know I’m struggling with my desire to look at porn right now. Please help me to let go of this desire.” I also told him that he was going to fail at times, and that after he got over the disappointment of failing, to turn that over to God, too.

            Over the ensuing months and years, he noticed that his desire diminished dramatically. He said that he still couldn’t help himself two or three times a year, but that this was dramatically different from the daily viewings he had. He also said that even in those two or three times, his online viewing was more glimpsing than viewing.

            The difference was that he shifted from trying to adhere to a law, and instead turned his viewing into an opportunity for prayer and faith. Instead of using willpower, he used the Spirit’s power.

            Paul preached a Christianity of giving to God so that we can discover what’s right directly from God, not from law. The law still has a role to show us how God wants us to live, but Paul’s point is to keep our focus on God, not on turning the law into a false, demanding god.

            The irony about what Paul preached is that it completely goes against what most people think of Paul. Many think of Paul as an Old Testament-type figure, full of judgment and preaching about the law. In fact, Paul was trying to teach people to let go of a focus on the law in order to create a focus on Christ and Christ’s way. The basic gist of his teaching was similar to that found in John’s gospel, which is that grace, Christ, and the Spirit are in you and can transform you, if you let them. We are not apart from God, expected to mold our lives into ones that are appealing and pleasing to God. We are asked and invited to open up our lives to God’s indwelling Spirit, and to allow that Spirit to transform us to transcend the law—to live the way the law intended for us to live, but to be able to do so because the Spirit is alive in us.

            It’s due to this emphasis on following Christ in faith, rather then subjecting ourselves to law, that we preach a life of prayer, love, and service. When we open up to Christ by allowing the indwelling Spirit come alive in us, we naturally live as the law intended us to live, but we do it through the power of God, not the power of will.

            Paul would be the first to say that there’s nothing wrong with law, but there is a better way—a higher way—if we choose it.

            Amen.

The Secret to a Happy Life: Be Envy Free–, by Rev. Connie Frierson -- 1 Kings 21:1-21


   
1 KINGS 21:1--21A 
1Later the following events took place: Naboth the Jezreelite had a vineyard in Jezreel, beside the palace of King Ahab of Samaria. 2And Ahab said to Naboth, "Give me your vineyard, so that I may have it for a vegetable garden, because it is near my house; I will give you a better vineyard for it; or, if it seems good to you, I will give you its value in money." 3But Naboth said to Ahab, "The LORD forbid that I should give you my ancestral inheritance." 4Ahab went home resentful and sullen because of what Naboth the Jezreelite had said to him; for he had said, "I will not give you my ancestral inheritance." He lay down on his bed, turned away his face, and would not eat.
5His wife Jezebel came to him and said, "Why are you so depressed that you will not eat?" 6He said to her, "Because I spoke to Naboth the Jezreelite and said to him, 'Give me your vineyard for money; or else, if you prefer, I will give you another vineyard for it'; but he answered, 'I will not give you my vineyard.'" 7His wife Jezebel said to him, "Do you now govern Israel? Get up, eat some food, and be cheerful; I will give you the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite."
8So she wrote letters in Ahab's name and sealed them with his seal; she sent the letters to the elders and the nobles who lived with Naboth in his city. 9She wrote in the letters, "Proclaim a fast, and seat Naboth at the head of the assembly; 10seat two scoundrels opposite him, and have them bring a charge against him, saying, 'You have cursed God and the king.' Then take him out, and stone him to death." 11The men of his city, the elders and the nobles who lived in his city, did as Jezebel had sent word to them. Just as it was written in the letters that she had sent to them, 12they proclaimed a fast and seated Naboth at the head of the assembly. 13The two scoundrels came in and sat opposite him; and the scoundrels brought a charge against Naboth, in the presence of the people, saying, "Naboth cursed God and the king." So they took him outside the city, and stoned him to death. 14Then they sent to Jezebel, saying, "Naboth has been stoned; he is dead."
15As soon as Jezebel heard that Naboth had been stoned and was dead, Jezebel said to Ahab, "Go, take possession of the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite, which he refused to give you for money; for Naboth is not alive, but dead." 16As soon as Ahab heard that Naboth was dead, Ahab set out to go down to the vineyard of Naboth the Jezreelite, to take possession of it.
17Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah the Tishbite, saying: 18Go down to meet King Ahab of Israel, who rules in Samaria; he is now in the vineyard of Naboth, where he has gone to take possession. 19You shall say to him, "Thus says the LORD: Have you killed, and also taken possession?" You shall say to him, "Thus says the LORD: In the place where dogs licked up the blood of Naboth, dogs will also lick up your blood."
20Ahab said to Elijah, "Have you found me, O my enemy?" He answered, "I have found you. Because you have sold yourself to do what is evil in the sight of the LORD, 21I will bring disaster on you; I will consume you, and will cut off from Ahab every male, bond or free, in Israel;
      
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      Today’s scripture is right from the lectionary. How many have never heard the story of Naboth’s Vineyard before? How many of you know this story well?   So this is a brand new story to the majority of our congregation. That means to get the wisdom out of the marrow of this story it is worth retelling. 
         **There was this little guy, Naboth. Naboth had a little vineyard, part of his ancestral lands. He made some wine, supported his family. Naboth is a good guy.  Then there was this big guy, Ahab, King of all the Israelites.  The big guy is very fancy. He has a fancy house, next to the little guy’s vineyard.  Ahab wants to do some improvements. Which means the little guy’s gotta go. So the king makes him an offer. It’s a good offer. The little guy shoulda taken the offer.  But the little guy says, “God forbid that I should sell my ancestral lands.” So the big guy goes home and lies on his couch. He won’t get up. He won’t eat. He turns his face to the wall.  His wife gets tired of the guy laying and moaning on the couch. So she says to him, “Aren’t you the king of Israel? Be a man!” But Ahab just lies on the couch.  So the wife, Jezebel, says, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”  She knows some guys. They make some trouble. The little guy has a terrible accident with a bunch or stones. Bada bing, bada boom, next thing you know no more little guy and the king get’s a new garden. Thank God such a thing would never, never happen here.
         There is wisdom in this tale of Naboth and Ahab. We like to put this gruesome little tale far away from us as odd ancient history from the Old Testament, or to think of it as an episode from The Soprano’s. But this is an insight and wake up call that we should pay attention to. This story reveals a part of our nature. But to understand the story better we need some background. Why wouldn’t Naboth sell his land? According to Deuteronomy the tribal parcels were really important. This land was a gift from God to Naboth’s family and Naboth’s tribe. Land was a gift and an obligation. This was a bad time to be a real estate agent. There was not much selling and buying of property, because if you sold your lands, by religious law you needed to buy them back for the welfare of you family as soon as possible. Whether your family ate or starved depended on keeping a plot of land. You sold your land right before you sold your children. Selling land was an extreme measure. It damaged the continuity of God’s gift to the twelve tribes and it was a violation of religious law. Naboth had to reject the offer. His rejection is based on religious obligation and family obligation. This rejection of Ahab’s offer leads to the king’s depression, a plot by Jezebel, lies, perjury, and murder. But what has this to do with us? None of us here have ever wanted more wealth or prestige or power, right?
         Or maybe we have just a little bit. I’m going to start with a personal story that gives me still some pangs of regret and shame and embarrassment. It always feels more satisfying to tell a story about someone else. But often what is healthier is to turn your eyes to your own life. So here goes. Long, long ago in the last century, and far, far away in Sin City, Las Vegas, I was a young woman, in the Go-Go 80’s. This was a time when Baby Boomers had put away youthful attempts to change the world and had started to have real jobs and make real money. In a popular movie Wall Street a thinly veiled fictional character, Gordon Gekko, played by Michael Douglas, decreed, “Greed is good.” In that age everything big was good, big hair, big shoulder pads, big furs even in Vegas. And Vegas was the epicenter of BIG. After years of waitressing jobs or part time jobs or student jobs in college and law school, I had a real, solid, “life on your own” paycheck. And I thought I was rich. I rented a modern one-bedroom apartment with real appliance, not an efficiency or a little place in a cut up old house with a humming 30 year-old Frigidaire and a hot plate. When I got my first paycheck I sent money home to my mom. She never asked for it but she paid for my college, covered my health insurance through school and always showed up with groceries. So it seemed fair to share with her my good fortune.   As I was cooking dinner, I would have the TV on. In the background would be a show, “Life Styles of the Rich and Famous” with Robin Leach. Wildly extravagant homes and cars and pools would be toured.  And Robin would sign off every program with “Champagne wishes and caviar dreams.” It was incredibly hokey. I would laugh at it.  But I noticed that gradually my paycheck didn’t seem as grand as it once did. Going to discount stores didn’t seem as fun as going to the elegant department stores in the new mall next to Caesar’s Palace. Over time a terrible thing happened. That money I sent back each month seemed like a bigger and bigger chunk of my pay. I rationalized that mom never asked for this.  She probably doesn’t need it. If I kept it I could save more and actually it was mine really. Mom would want me to use it.  So though in the next several years my income increased, my sharing with my mom dwindled and dwindled and eventually stopped. My mother never reproached me for my lack of generosity. For she had learned not to covet but I had not.
         Envy and covetousness had bitten me. Envy is defined as a feeling of discontent and resentment aroused by and in conjunction with desire for the possessions or qualities of another. Covetousness defined as a craving for possession, often the craving for something that belongs to another. So these two sins are intertwined and bound together in an unholy duo. Envy is one of the seven deadly sins. The tenth commandment “Thou shallt not covet” is arguable the basis of many of the other Ten Commandments Other commandments prohibit outward action. But to covet is an inward process. This inward disposition leads to outward action.  Our scripture today, the story of Naboth and Ahab and Jezebel, is an ancient wisdom that shows us the real danger of envy and covetousness. Coveting a vineyard led to lies, theft, blaspheming and murder.
         So who was this green-fingered King Ahab and did he really need another garden? Ahab was king of the Ten Northern Tribes of Israel.  Earlier in Hebrew history the Promised Land had fallen into disunion and the northern territory was now Israel and southern territory was Judah. Ahab was a really financially successful king of Israel for a large portion of his 22-year reign. The bible says that Ahab had a house of ivory. Often readers have thought of as poetic license, a literary flourish with no basis in fact. But now archeologists have recovered fabulous ivory carvings from his palace in Samaria. Scholars have found references to Ahab’s Ivory Palace in other ancient records. The house of ivory was literal. The artistry and the craftsman’s ship show tremendous wealth and luxury for his age. Ivory was the ultimate luxury building material, right up there with Oprah Winfrey’s gold faucets on her bathtub. Ahab would have been featured on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous had there been a syndicated program in ancient Israel. Ahab confused need and want. Covetousness is about want and desire. Covetousness is different from need. But we get our needs and wants so mixed. Ahab needed another garden like an addict needs another shot in the arm. 
         Yet despite his wealth or maybe even because of his wealth Ahab fell ill to the disease of envy. He turned his face to the wall in depression. Today we have a modern name for this kind of covetous despair. This is the disease of affluenza. A journalist, Britt Peterson, reviewed the research on the far-reaching psychological effects of wealth in an article for The Boston Globe. Peterson wrote “Rich people have a harder time connecting with others, showing less empathy to the extent of dehumanizing those who are different from them. They are less charitable and generous. They are less likely to help someone in trouble.” Research shows that people who place a high value on wealth, status, and stuff are more depressed and anxious and less sociable than those who do not. Materialism is not just a personal problem. It is an environmental problem, a social problem and at heart a spiritual problem.  This is new research.  But Ahab shows that it was an old problem. When Ahab couldn’t buy or trade the ancestral lands of Naboth he took to his bed, couldn’t eat and turned his face to the wall.  Sounds like depression to me. Ahab suffered from our modern disease of “affluenza.”
         Our problem is we think we don’t have a problem. We fall into the delusion that we are free of envy. There is an Old Danish proverb that says, “If envy was a fever all the world would be ill.” Often we don’t even recognize that we are in the midst of envy.  Envy is so much a part of our worldview that we see covetousness with a veneer of glamour, or we call it an enterprising spirit, or healthy ambition, or getting ahead or just rewards or what we deserve. Secondly, we fall into the trap of thinking we don’t envy or covet because we dumb down those sins to only physical possessions. We can covet all kinds of non-physical things, a position or job or power, or privilege or security or a family or a relationship or a quality. We think we don’t covet because we don’t want other people’s stuff. We fall into what I call the “If only, Then” trap. We may think, “if only I had that person’s looks, or job, or family. If only I had a husband or a wife like that, if only I had kids like that, if only I had an education like that, if only I had ability like that, THEN I would be happy. So we look for fulfillment outside ourselves, outside of God and we turn our face to the wall. Our comparisons make us ill and sap our strength. If our envy goes unchecked it can lead us to very bad places. We can look not just to the warning tale of Ahab but also to the wisdom of Star Wars – Yoda once said “Envy leads to jealousy, jealousy leads to hate, hate leads to anger, anger leads to the dark side” We forget the dark side.  Ahab’s envy lead to depression, then anger, then Naboth became not a neighbor but an obstacle, not a person but an enemy to be murdered.
         Envy catches us and traps us. It interferes with our openness to God.  I think it works something like catching a monkey. I better explain to you how to catch a monkey. We don’t have a monkey here this morning but we have our imagination. So do you see this jar? I’m going to take this jar and put a banana inside it like this. I’ll put the jar down here on the floor. Then I’m going to tie this rope to the jar. Good. That’s nice and tight. Then I’m going to give the other end of the rope to one of you. If a monkey comes along and sees the banana inside he’ll say to himself. Hmm. I want to have that banana all to myself. So he reaches in and grabs the banana. He makes sure he is holding it very tightly in his hand. But when he tries to take his hand out he can’t remove it because he is making a fist holding on to the banana. He can’t get his hand out as long as he holds on to the banana. He could get away very easily if he just let go but he loves what ever is in the jar so much he just can’t let go. Then you just need to pull on this rope and you have caught a monkey with his hand in the jar.  Now a banana wouldn’t tempt me, but maybe chocolate would. Or maybe really, really, good chocolate, the kind rich people enjoy, the kind that says if I have that chocolate I will be in a dreamy world that is luxurious and safe and happy and beautiful. For that kind of chocolate I would grab a hold and not let go. And then I am trapped.  The only way to get free is to let go of the thing that is not just a luxury but is now a need. But to let go of what I think I need is counter intuitive. This is a spiritual leap. But see what happens when I let go.  If I let go of this false need. I am free.  If I give my need to God, I am free.  God can then break that jar and bust it wide open. Then my hand is free to receive God’s gifts something better and deeper. 
         Our spiritual work is to let go of the thing we think we need in the jar. There is a cure to affluenza, a cure for envy and covetousness.  It is called perspective and gratitude and humility.  Perspective allows us to understand that all we have is from God. We have no entitlements. We see the answer in part in Naboth’s answer. Naboth understood that what he had was a gift not just to him but also to his family.   To see possessions as gifts not rights opens the door to looking to God for our needs and our wants and learning the difference.
         So the question for you is “What’s in your jar?”  What are you hanging onto for dear life? And can you ask God to help you let go?
  
Amen.





* *Retold with a heavy Long Island accent.

That's the Spirit... of Dreams


Acts 16:6-10
June 9, 2013

They went through the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia. When they had come opposite Mysia, they attempted to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them; so, passing by Mysia, they went down to Troas. During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, ‘Come over to Macedonia and help us.’ When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.

            I want you to imagine that you are Paul and you have had a dramatic dream. The dream has come in the midst of a lot of failures to your mission. You’ve been starting churches around the land of present-day Turkey, and you’ve been trying to move eastward into Asia. But nothing’s working. You’re frustrated and discouraged. You have a plan, and it’s not working. Then you have a dream that a man in Macedonia (what is now Greece) is saying, “Come to us and do your work here.” That’s not your plan. To go to Macedonia is to go to a place with different customs, different people, and different challenges. You’re prepared for work in the land you’re in because you are from that land (Paul was from Tarsus, which is a city in the same province he had been starting churches in).

            What would your response be? Would you lay aside all of your plans and follow? Would your doubts hold you back?  Would you follow, but with conditions—only if you see measurable progress in three months, five months, nine months? Paul wanted a sign, but what does he do now that he’s received a sign to go somewhere completely different? 

            Over the years I’ve learned that most people at some point pray for signs from God, hoping that God will show them what to do. Often they get signs, but then they’re plagued by doubts—was this really a sign from God or my own imagination? Doubt is the sign-killer. The Bible gives a great example of how we search for, but struggle with, signs in the Old Testament story of Gideon.

            You may not remember Gideon from the Bible. The story of Gideon is a small one. It takes place very early in the history of Israel, and if found in the book of Judges. Gideon is threshing wheat in a winepress so that the Midianites, a violent tribe that keeps attacking Israel and taking their food, will not see what he is doing. He doesn’t want them stealing his wheat.

            Covered in dust, sweat, and chaff as he threshes away, an angel appears before him. The angel tells Gideon that God is calling on him to lead the Israelites against the Midianites. For Gideon it’s not enough that an angel appears before Gideon. He still has doubts and asks for a sign. He tells the angel that if this is really what God wants, then the next morning God should make the ground wet with dew, while leaving dry a fleece that Gideon has placed on the ground. The next morning Gideon sees the fleece and it is dry, while the ground is wet. He wants another sign. The next morning he wants God to make the ground dry and the fleece wet. So the next morning the ground is dry and the fleece is wet. Gideon is tempted to ask for another sign, but the angel reminds him to simply have faith and trust in God. Gideon leads the vastly outnumbered Israelites to victory against the Midianites.

            We are so much like Gideon. We cry out for signs, and even though God is working all around us, we often don’t see it. But we don’t just have doubts about the signs we get. More often we recognize the signs, but don’t like what they point to. I’ll give you an example from an old story. An atheist visits the Grand Canyon and hikes alone along the crest. While admiring the beautiful view from the edge, he stumbles and falls. Hurtling downward into the abyss, he flails his arms, trying to grab at anything that might prevent his certain death. As the ground rushes upward to meet him in a violent end, he manages to grab hold of a branch sticking out of the cliff wall. There he hangs, unable to save himself. The crest is 300 feet up, while the bottom is half a mile down. 

            He can’t climb up, and he can’t climb down. He has no hope. Not knowing what else to do, he begins to shout out into the canyon: “God! Are you out there? Help me! If you help me, I’ll do anything you ask!” He hears only the sound of the wind swirling along the cliff wall. “God! You are the only one who can help me.  Save me, and I’ll do whatever you want.” Again, he hears nothing but silence. 

            Just as he’s about to give up all hope, he hears a booming, thundering voice echo through the canyon, “Sure, sure, that’s what they all say.” “God? Is that you? I mean it, I’ll do anything you ask!” he says. “Are you sure you want me to save you?” replies God. “Yes, I’ll do anything.” “Anything?” God asks. “Anything!” 

            God says, “Okay, I’ll save you, but you must do exactly what I say.” “Of course.  You know I’ll do it. I’ll become a Christian. I’ll help the poor. I’ll go to church every Sunday.” God replies, “Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Let go of the branch. If you let go of the branch, I’ll save you.”

            The man thinks for a while. Then he looks up and shouts, “Is there anybody else out there?” 
           
            We want to hear God, but we don’t always want to follow what we hear. The key to discernment, to hearing what God is saying to us, is doing what God wants us to do, even if we don’t want to. This is such a huge part. It’s easy to follow God when God seeks what we want, but it’s hard when God calls us to seek what God wants. It’s this very kind of discernment that has impressed me so far with Pope Francis. I heard parts of an interview he had yesterday with a bunch of children. One child asked, “How long did you want to be pope before you became one?” Francis answered,  “I didn’t want to be pope at all. It was God’s choice, not mine.”

            If there is one really significant thing about this congregation, it is that we look and listen, and then we follow, much like Pope Francis. Real discernment is being willing to listen and to do what we don’t want to do if that is what God asks us to do. We put aside our will for God’s.

            I don’t know if you all really appreciate just how special this church is, but it’s our willingness to discern that makes us special. We’ve done stuff that very few other Presbyterian or mainline churches have been able to do. We stand out, even if others don’t necessarily notice. Let me give you some examples of what I mean.

            Do you recognize the names Lyle Schaller? He’s a church researcher who has uncovered some of the most profound attributes that go into having a church grow. Throughout the 1980s and 90s, he published a number of books that helped many churches turn themselves around.

            One of his sagest pieces of advice in terms of how to get a struggling church to grow was this: If you can help it, don’t try! He has said quite often that if you want a growing church, don’t try to turn around a struggling church. Start up a new church instead. His research showed that for a whole slew of factors—a congregation’s fear of change, their reluctance to accept new ways of worshiping, and the desire of different generations to be surrounded mostly by people of their own generation—the best thing to do is to just start a new church. If you look around Cranberry and the North Hills, you can see how accurate his advice is. The growing churches of this area are the new churches, not established churches like ours.

            The problem with established churches in decline is that the members often resist growth. They don’t want to adapt in the ways you need to adapt in order to grow. If you are determined to grow as an established church, he says that there are two tasks that are the hardest for churches to do, and that really keep churches from growing. The hardest task of all is to move a church from a pastor-size church to a program-size church. This requires a bit of explanation.

            According to he and other researchers, there are four basic sizes of churches. First, there is the family-size church. This is a church that worships between 1 and 49 people each Sunday. Typically these are very small churches that have a hard time keeping a pastor. Because pastors come and go relatively frequently, it’s the members who really run the church, and of those members it’s usually a patriarch and matriarch from one or two large families who make all significant decisions. Everyone follows their lead. Also, since these are churches that want to maintain family dominance, they often make life tough on pastors who come in with new ideas, especially those with new ideas who want to bring in new people. The pattern of these churches is that a new pastor (usually fresh out of seminary) comes in with lots of excitement and fanfare. After one year, the members (usually of the family) start to become irritated with all the new idea. So they start a campaign of criticism against the pastor. By the third year the wounded pastor has moved on.

            The next size church is a pastor-size church. This church worships between 50 and 99. In this church, just like the family-size, a very small cadre of people makes decisions. In this case it is the solo pastor and a few members of the his or her inner circle.

            The next size church is the program-size church. These churches average about 100-249 in attendance. Decisions are made by the church leaders, and the pastor(s) are seen as both leaders and consultants, guiding the church, but not really having final authority. The focus is on creating programs that reach out to the community and the congregation.

            The final church is the corporate-size church. It worships 250+. These churches are run much like a large corporation where the church council operates like a board of directors, the senior pastor is the CEO, and the associates and program staff are like division presidents.

            According to Schaller, the most difficult task a church can face is to grow from a pastor-size church to a program-size church. Why? Because it’s such a change in culture, from decisions being made by a small cadre to being made by a large group working in trust with each other, that most churches can ‘t make that change. We made that change with ease, and almost no one noticed how easily we moved from one to the other. 17 years ago we were averaging 95 in attendance. Today we average about 225 in attendance. This church has done the hardest thing for a church to do, and we did it with ease.

            The second hardest task for a church to accomplish is to grow after 20 or more years of decline. Again, we have grown, and grown relatively easily. This church had almost 30 years of decline before 1996, and it has now grown from just under 200 members to just over 500. In the process (considering deaths, people moving out of the area, and some leaving the church), we have added almost 450 new members in that time. In essence, this church has accomplished to two hardest tasks a church can undertake, and we did it with relative ease.

            We also have grown in a denomination of decline, and even in an area of Presbyterian decline. Five years ago one of the pastors of our presbytery, the Rev. Jim Boos, did research on growth in our presbytery.  What he found was interesting. In 2005, of the 87 churches in our presbytery, 17 out of 87 churches grew. That’s about 19%. Calvin Church was one of those churches. Over the prior 2 years, only 5 churches had grown during both of those years, and Calvin Church was one of those 5. For the five years between 2000 and 2005, only two churches had grown in each year: a church in Chippewa and Calvin Church. Between 1995 and 2005, only one church had grown each year for that ten-year period: Calvin Church. We’ve now grown consistently each year for 17 years.

            Despite this fact, very few churches or church pastors in our presbytery have asked what it is that we are doing that has caused us to have such consistent growth. Ironically, we are in a presbytery that has called itself an evangelical presbytery, emphasizing growth. Yet the presbytery has largely ignored the one church that has consistently grown. Despite that, we are known now internationally. We have been written about in several books, we have been the subject of several studies, and we continue to have pastors working on doctorates or doing grant-funded studies visit and study us. We’ve had people from California, Minnesota, Ontario, Nova Scotia, Ohio, New York, Maryland, and elsewhere come and study us. Included in that is a pastor from Alabama who plans to visit this summer. We have become an internationally known church—us in little ole Zelienople.

            In addition, we have raised over $2 million in property purchases, renovations, and expansions since 1996. That includes renovating the sanctuary, putting in air conditioning, buying Faith, Hope, and Charity Houses, building a labyrinth, upgrading our electrical and heating systems, and so much more. We embarked on our capital campaign as a 430-member church looking to pay off $1.6 million in debt. We have paid off $1.35 million out of $1.6 million in 7 years, and we added 80 members. I think that’s remarkable. I don’t want to make it all about numbers, but the numbers do reveal a remarkable vitality in this church.

            But here’s the really big question: how did we do it? We did it by being one of the rare churches that really wants to listen for, hear, and follow what God is calling us to do. My vision when I came here was a very simple, two-part vision. Be steeped in the Great Command, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Second, to be a church that is willing to ask, “What is God’s will for us?”

            When I first came to Calvin Presbyterian Church, we changed how we vote on decisions. Presbyterian churches typically vote the way most organizations do. They follow Roberts’ Rules of Order, debating and then voting to the question, “All in favor say ‘aye.’ All opposed say ‘nay.’” On our session and in committees, we vote by asking members to spend time in prayer, letting go of what they want, and asking what God wants. We then ask, “All who sense this may be God’s will say ‘aye.’ All who don’t say ‘nay.’” Dong this makes a huge difference. It means that we aren’t pursuing human goals.

            The greatest example of how this question changes things came about 7 years ago when we were dealing with an issue on the session. The whole session was in agreement that we should do something in a particular way, but one elder advocated another way. Over time he changed the minds of the others through a vigorous debate. When it was time to vote on the new plan, I asked the session to spend time in prayer, letting go of what they wanted, others wanted, and what they thought I wanted. Then we voted, with me asking them, “All who sense this may be God’s will…”  The vote was 8-1 in favor of what that one elder wanted. Who voted “no”? That one elder. When I asked him what changed, he said that during his prayer he realized that he was asking the session to adopt a plan that made things easier for him, but that this wasn’t what God wanted. He realized in his prayer time that God was really leading the church to adopt the other plan. We voted again and the vote was unanimous for the original plan. That’s what seeking God’s will in prayer does. It allows us to let go of our desires to seek God’s.

            When you hear of me traveling around the country and Canada, it is to teach other churches how to do what we do. Despite my enthusiasm for our way, the one thing I consistently hear from pastors who want to do this is that they are scared. What if they try and the church board or council rebels? What if they do this and God doesn’t come through? What if people won’t pray? I have no answer other then to encourage them to try. I’ve discovered that if we pursue God’s way, God answers and leads people to experience God’s blessings. God wants our churches to do well.

            It is very easy to be skeptical about all of this, asking, “Does God really care about these issues? Isn’t God too busy to deal with our little concerns?” My answer is that God isn’t too busy because this is the stuff God cares about. God wants us to care about what God wants, to seek what God wants, and to do what God wants. How can God be too busy to care about the things God is busy doing?

            When we are willing to truly seek what God wants, we find that we begin to want what God seeks. That’s what all of you have done, and it’s what we are celebrating today. We have sought what God wanted for us, and in it we have found so much of what God has been seeking for us

            Amen.

That's the Spirit... of Forgiveness

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John 20:19-23
June 2, 2013

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘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. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’

            You know, the reality is that all of us have pains and hurts from our past that we have a hard time letting go of. Forgiving others is hard, especially when we have been really hurt. There are slights and grudges that all of us hold. Perhaps it’s toward high school classmates who treated us poorly. Perhaps it’s toward college classmates. Maybe it was a co-worker, or a friend, or a family member. Maybe it was a parent or a sibling who treated us poorly or did harm to us. Whatever it was, we have a hard time forgiving.

            Phyllis Dominguez has had to deal with this kind of residual pain for her whole life. She has battled anger and rage for much of her life, trying to keep it from taking over.  One day, she had to confront it. She received a telephone call from the assisted living home where her mother lived. Apparently, her mother had been refusing to come out of her apartment and eat in the dining room. She had not eaten either breakfast that morning or dinner the night before, and she was a diabetic. They needed Phyllis to come and convince her mother to eat.

            Phyllis went to the home and walked into her mother’s apartment. It smelled of dirty laundry and dishes piled up in the sink. She knew that the nurses and aides at the home really didn’t take care of her mother all that much anymore. Who could blame them? Her mother was a vile, angry, critical, and abusive woman. Who wants to help someone who not only doesn’t appreciate it, but who is abusive? 

            She saw her mother sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. “Mother, you need to get dressed.” “I won’t!” she replied. “You need to dress so you can go to the dining room,” Phyllis said. “What dining room?” “The dining room down the hall. It’s where you eat.” “No, I don’t.  Go away!  Stop it!” As she listened to her mother, memories of her childhood flooded her. She remembered all the times her mother had hit her, and when she cried her mother said, “Stop crying, or I’ll punish you some more.” Her mother had been verbally and physically abusive all her life. Growing up, there was little peace in their household, especially considering her parents’ constant and explosive arguing. Phyllis’ answer was to lose herself in her music, playing the French horn in her room for hours on end. Playing the horn not only distracted her from her pain, but drowned out her parent’s voices.

            After she left home and graduated from college with a degree in music, she had made a happy life for herself with a wonderful husband and a young daughter. Learning from her own experience, she made sure that her daughter, Mary, always knew how much she was loved. Phyllis also had hoped never to have to deal with her mother again, but here she was years later being the only one left to care for her. She hated this, and her anger and rage towards her mother was always with her.

            She continued trying to convince her mother to eat: “Come on. Let’s get dressed.” “Why?” her mother scowled. “So you can eat.” “I’m not going anywhere.” “You have to eat. You’re diabetic. I’ll help you,” Phyllis said as she bent over her mother’s recliner to start helping her dress. Her mother spat a spew of profanity at her. Phyllis did her best to ignore it, but then her mother did something she couldn’t ignore. Her mother hit her across the face and arm. Phyllis was stunned more than she was hurt. Then the rage began to flood up from within her:  “Go on. Hit her! Now’s your chance.” The anger started to take her over. “She’s got it coming.  All those times.” She could get her mother back for every pain she had inflicted on Phyllis. It would be so easy, and no one would ever know. 

            Her arm trembled as a fist clenched. Looking at her fist, she heard another voice speaking within her: “Hasn’t there been enough pain, anger, and rage. It all has to stop here. Let go of that rage and anger, and give it to God.” She unclenched her fist, bent down and picked up the fallen dress and calmly said, “Let’s put this on.”

            She had let go of her rage and turned the other cheek. As she did, she stood up and saw her mother as if for the first time. This was no longer a powerful woman who could control Phyllis’ life. She was an old, frail, fragile, fearful, and helpless woman. This was a woman who had been scarred by her own upbringing in an alcoholic family. This was a woman who had never learned how to love. Phyllis let go of her rage and anger, and forgave her mother. Her mother died a few months later. She took care of her mother until the end, but Phyllis was now different. She was no longer controlled by her anger. She was freed, and in that freedom of letting go and forgiveness, she experienced God’s grace (Guideposts, June 2001). 

            Phyllis had to forgive her mother for two reasons. First, she had to forgive so that she could break the pattern of her life. Second, if she didn’t forgive, she would be trapped in her hurt, anger, and resentment for the rest of her life, always battling it and always running the risk that the resentment would win.

            She learned the lesson Nelson Mandela learned through 24 years of imprisonment under the white, South African apartheid government. Mandela had been arrested as a subversive, and spent his 24 years in a tiny cell, with one window that looked out on a dusty courtyard filled with sun-bleached rocks. His days were spent sitting on that ground, wielding a small sledgehammer, and breaking those rocks. When he was finished they would bring him more rocks to break. The point was to give him something completely meaningless and mundane to do, day after day, to break his spirit. It didn’t. It gave Mandela time to reflect.
           
            When he was released, he would have had every right to hold onto his anger as motivation to get back at the white apartheids. Instead, he let go of his anger and resentment, and forgave them. When asked about this forgiveness, he said, Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.” What an insight!

            It can be really hard to let go of resentment, which is why we have to tap into something beyond ourselves and our own will if we are to do so. Jesus, in our passage for this morning, connects the ability to forgive with openness to the Holy Spirit. He said to his disciples,  “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Basically he is saying that real forgiveness comes from the Spirit, not by our own will. In other words, if we become truly open to the Spirit, then the Spirit’s forgiveness not only flows through us, but our actions become part of the Spirit’s actions. Our forgiveness becomes the Spirit’s forgiveness, and vice versa.

            The reason we cannot truly forgive without an openness to the Spirit, to God, is that real forgiveness comes from love, and love is God. This is what John tells us in his first letter. He says, “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us… By this we know that we live in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit… God is love, and those who live in love live in God, and God lives in them” (1 John 4). The clear implication of this is that when we forgive, it really is an act of letting God’s love come alive in us once again.

            When I think of this kind of forgiveness, my mind automatically goes to Bud Welch. You probably don’t know who he is. I preached about him a number of years ago, but his story stays with me.  

            Welch’s daughter, Julie, was a bright and vibrant young woman. Bud took his daughter to church each Sunday, and sent her to a Catholic high school, as she was growing up. Her favorite subjects were anything that had to do with language. She loved Latin, French, and especially Spanish. As a senior, she won a scholarship to Marquette University to study Spanish. After graduating from college, she got a job translating for the Social Security Administration. Through it all Julie had always taken her faith seriously, and wanted to serve God in whatever she did.

            Bud’s life changed in an instant on April 19, 1995. That’s when Timothy McVeigh’s bomb went off outside the Alfred P. Murrah Federal building in Oklahoma City, killing Julie, along with 167 other people. On the morning she died, she had gone to 7:00 a.m. mass, and then to work for a 9:00 a.m. appointment. Soon afterwards, McVeigh’s bomb went off.  

            For months afterwards, Bud Welch was filled with rage. He couldn’t understand why his daughter had to die, and thoughts of vengeance consumed him. To dull his grief, and to help him sleep, he began to drink a lot, generally pouring his first drink as soon as he got home from work. This alcoholic haze consumed his life for almost a year, until he visited the site of the bombing on sunny day. As he looked through the trees, trying to ward of the pain and nausea of a hangover, he realized that he couldn’t live his life this way anymore. The drinking wasn’t making him any better, nor was his anger.

            Welch realized that he was living his life like a clenched fist, holding tightly to anger and rage. He had to release his grip and start living as his daughter, Julie, would have wanted him to live. As the month passed, the rage slowly subsided, and Welch felt that he had a new purpose in life, one that felt like a calling from God. He started speaking out against the death penalty. This was in part because his daughter Julie had been so opposed to it, but it was also part of his trying to forgive Timothy McVeigh for what he had done to Julie and the others.

            One of the people who has truly helped Welch overcome his grief, anger, and resentment has been a man named Bill, who has become one of his best friends.  Bud first saw Bill on television in 1998 on the third anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing. A reporter for a news program was trying to get reactions from those who had been affected by the bombing. As Bill worked in his garden in Buffalo, New York, a reporter walked up to him, thrust a microphone in his face, and asked him what his thoughts about the bombing were. Bill looked into the camera, and Bud saw the depths of pain in Bill’s eyes—the same pain Bud felt. Bud decided at that moment that he had to speak to Bill.

            When Bud made a trip to Buffalo to speak out against the death penalty, he asked a local nun to arrange a meeting with Bill. There were some awkward moments at first. Then Bud said, “I understand you garden is beautiful.” Bill’s eyes lit up, and so they spent the next hour looking at Bill’s garden. They found out they had a lot in common. Both were blue-collar Irish Catholics. Bill had worked in a GM plant for 38 years, while Bud had owned a Texaco in Oklahoma City for 34 years. 

            They moved into the kitchen, and over coffee they talked about their children. Bill pulled out pictures of his son, while Bud pulled out pictures of his daughter. As they looked at pictures of Bill’s son, a tear formed in Bill’s eye. He began to talk about the pain surrounding his son. You see, his son is Timothy McVeigh, the man who killed Bud’s daughter and so many others. In their afternoon together, Bill and Bud shared so much, and in his forgiveness of Bill, God’s grace flowed through Bud into Bill. As their friendship deepened over the next few months, God’s grace also flowed from Bill into Bud. Over the course of the past several years, a real friendship has formed that has been healing for both. In many ways, by meeting Bill, Bud has been able to say about Timothy McVeigh, “Father, forgive him, for he knows not what he has done.” Bud’s forgiveness has let God’s grace flow into Bill McVeigh’s life, into the world, and also into his own life. 

            Bud Welch forgave because he finally opened up to the Spirit, allowing a Spirit of God’s love to replace his spirit of rage. Each and every one of us has pain and resentments over something, whether it’s big or small. And we are free to hold onto them, and to let our frustration, pain, anger, and even rage hold onto our lives.

            The deep question for us is whether or not we’re willing to receive the Spirit, and if we do, to let it lead us to forgive.

            Amen.