1 Corinthians 13:1-13

Text of the passage can be found here.

This is one of those passages that is so familiar it can feel redundant revisiting it. And yet, the day after a beautiful wedding and the day before Valentine’s Day it hardly seems like there could be a more appropriate scripture.

I think most of us know love takes work.  We don’t think of it that way when we are surrounded by hearts and flowers and chocolate, but when we are honest with ourselves, our partners, our families, and our closest friends, we see that loving those relationships takes work.

Communicating effectively

Forgiving freely

Listening compassionately

Compromising readily

Affirming intentionally

And loving purposefully

All take work. There are few short cuts.  And most of the time, there’s not even a direct route—only the long way around.  Love requires consistent intentional action. When real love is involved, you will stretch yourself to do more and be more for the sake of the other.

It seems fair to say that most of us understand how to love in our closest relationships.  We may not always do what is best or most necessary. We may walk away instead of having the tough conversation. We may ignore the dishes or the trash instead of helping. We may say nothing instead of acknowledging a home cooked meal or a manicured lawn or a freshly folded load of laundry. But even if we don’t do it—we know we should.  Whether we are being lazy or spiteful, we know, ultimately, that love would step up and do more. Right?

Sometimes we need a gentle nudge back to center—back to God’s call to love.  We need these familiar words:

 ⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

We need these words in order to remind us not to be selfish or rude or irritable or proud but instead to be kind, patient, gentle and persevering. And that’s all well and good for those we are close to but what about strangers?  What about annoying neighbors? Or frustrating co-workers? Or aggravating in-laws? We don’t have to do all that for them too, do we?

You know that’s rhetorical right?  Of course we do.  If we are going to live our faith fully, then absolutely those folks are included. And actually, if we take scripture seriously, then we are supposed to START with those folks not just given them the left-overs of our affection, affirmation, support, and intentionality.  Now, that’s another one of those God things that is much easier said than done.  But the scriptures are clear—anyone can love those close to them, the Christian calling means going beyond what is simple or straightforward or easy or natural for all of us and loving those we never would have thought to love. And by “love” I’m not talking about feeling love for, I mean showing love.  Love is a verb, it always requires action. We are to show love for those we never would have thought of through intentional and tangible actions. Sometimes those actions will be simple gestures, like a smile or a thank you or a genuine affirmation, and other times it will require more—accountability, vulnerability, investment of our time, energy, and talents.

So, I think we need to ground this message a bit…not just talk about it in general terms but put some flesh and bones on it so we know how to do this in clear straightforward ways.   I am very proud of this church for the ways we are intentional about reaching out to others and providing for their needs.  We provide food, clothes, showers, and shelter.  Often we help with groceries, or gas, or unpaid utility bills.  At other times we do mission projects and rebuild homes.  All of those are acts of love; they are clear intentional and tangible actions that demonstrate love.  But I’m going to say they are not enough for God’s agape love.  Not that they aren’t good or even necessary, but that God calls us to go beyond. 

Think of it in these terms, what are the standard gifts for Valentine’s day?  Chocolate. Hearts. Roses. Right? Those are the basics.  They are clear, intentional, and tangible objects that demonstrate love.  And for some, that’s just what they want. But for others, for many even, you hope for something more, right?  After a little while in a relationship, we long for something more thoughtful, more significant, more lasting. Like what?

A thoughtful card

Love notes hidden around the house, or car, or at work

A dinner out

A special evening of talking and catching up

What else?

Sure we like the chocolate and flowers, but really, our heart longs for something more.

I think the same is true of those we help.  Yes, they enjoy a hot meal, or a hot shower, or clean clothes, or shoes that fit. All of those things are valued, but in time, they wither away.  Ultimately, their hearts long for something more, too. They want something more thoughtful, more significant, more lasting just like we do.  They want relationships and connections they can rely on. They want to know they matter. They want to know they are more than a passing thought on any given day. They want someone to know their name, and then learn their story, and remember it, and ask about them and their lives time after time, just like we do.  Flowers and candy are easy in the way a hot meal is easy—yes, they take an investment of time and money and energy, but the true message of love is heard in the time spent together in their sharing of lives and stories. 

So when I say we are called to something more, what I mean is, that when we do ministry with folks, whether it’s Sunday morning, or Wednesday nights, or on a street corner, or on the Gulf Coast, or a Haitian town, we need to go deeper in giving of ourselves and learning about people.  We need to know names and faces and stories.  Not just of those we love and care for already, but of all of God’s children.  That’s a big task, I know. But that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be part of what we do in our faith walk.  You won’t learn everyone’s name or story at once, but if you learn one well, then you can learn two. And if you learn two, then in time you can learn 3.

This scripture challenges us to go to the next level in our relationships—all of them.  So, in addition to being intentional in the ways you love your friends and family, I want you to really think about being intentional with those we do ministry with. I want you to come to breakfast on Sunday morning, if not every week, then once a month, and I want you to sit with someone you don’t know and learn their name and learn their story.  Or I want you to join the outreach committee on a third or fourth Wednesday of the month and go to the Path of Life shelter and sit down for dinner, don’t just stay in the kitchen to serve, but go sit down and talk with people, get to know them.  You don’t have to fix their problems, just like you don’t have to fix mine or your neighbors, you can just listen and care about them and really hear them. 

We understand the basics well.  We can do those readily and easily--we can provide food, clothes, shoes and the like without much of a second thought, they’ve become natural for us here at Wesley. Now it’s time to go to the next level. It’s time to be a bit uncomfortable.  After all, not all of us are good at approaching a stranger and striking up conversation.  And for those where that conversation comes easily, taking it to the next level and sticking around to keep talking when the subject matter gets tough may be the challenge.  Either way, we are called to move beyond what is comfortable, natural, and easy and move to the next level in our relationships.  

There are other ways for us to dig deeper. I am sure you can think of other ideas.  The particularity isn’t as important as you actually doing what you are called to do.

Psalm 22

Anyone seen the news lately?

·        Flooding in Saudi Arabia (killed 10)

·        Protests in Egypt

·        Continued instability in Haiti

·        Continued conflict in Sudan

·        There were shootings in Arizona and shootings in LA

·        The economy, though “recovering”, is far from strong again, unemployment remains at 9.5% as the country’s average.

And if that weren’t enough…

·        There are problems in marriages

·        Trials in dating

·        Too much debt

·        Days of endless depression

·        Aching bones

·        Domestic Violence

·        Sexual abuse

·        Child abuse

·        Diminished retirement income for those who cannot return to work

·        We have yet to find a cure for cancer and hear of new diagnoses each week.

·        Nearly 45 years of conflict in Israel Palestine

·        Over 25 million dead from AIDS with nearly 33 million currently infected with AIDS/HIV

In other words, you look around the world, and it all seems a bit depressing these days.  We can see the world ripe with problems that seem to go on forever and we’re bound to ask, “Where is God in all of this?”   

Sometimes we need to cry out: My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken us?  Don’t you care?  Can’t you hear our prayers?  Why are we still waiting for answers? 

Don’t we all have some kind of “why” question? 

Somehow, within our modern Christian faith it seems to have become taboo to question God or cry out, “Where are you? Why have you left me in the desert alone?” But it’s not taboo.  It’s not unfaithful to cry out for God.  In fact, crying out for God to help us, to answer us, is one of the most faithful things we can do.  We’re searching for God after all.

It’s scriptural even.  The Psalm wasn’t just one person’s lament.  It’s written by an individual, but the psalms became corporate prayers.  They became the laments or the praises of the people.  Psalm 22 became a lament of the people.  And not just a lament you looked up in your printed Bible from time to time when you needed it.  Bibles weren’t printed.  Heck, Bibles weren’t even compiled at that point. Instead, the Psalms were memorized.  Each person learned them and knew them by heart.  They could call these prayers to mind at any time. So, when an Israelite felt the need to lament and cry out, the words were there on the tip of their tongue: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?!” The people memorized this prayer just like they memorized the next “The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want…”  It wasn’t taboo. It wasn’t unfaithful. Each of the Psalms, in the fullness of their meaning, was a prayer to God.  And each Psalm addressed a different part of life…sometimes praise, sometimes begrudging an enemy, and sometimes, a desperate cry for help.

There is no perfect walk with God where we are unscathed by the problems of the world.  We can’t hide in a hole like a hermit hoping we can avoid the horrible things that happen around us.  Sin is real. Tragedy is real. Terror is real. Sickness is real. Death is real.  They are all unavoidable realities for us.  So, why do we try and pretend like they shouldn’t?  Of course, we wish they didn’t happen.  And the hope we have is that in the Kingdom of God, all these horrible realities will be but a vague memory. But we aren’t there yet.  We’re here. We’re in this broken place full of crazy sinful people—US!

And the truth of the matter is sometimes things are grim. So let’s not gloss over it. Let’s call it like it is.  Let’s sit in the middle of the mire for a moment and have a little talk with God.  It’s not about a pity party. It’s not about drawing on our whining and complaining for days on end.  It is about expressing ourselves honestly and frankly with God.  Let’s put our hearts on the table and say,

“Do you care anymore?”

“Are you deaf?”

“Can’t you see it’s getting pretty bad around here?”

God can hear that from us, and we’re not going to get smited for it.  I’m not trying to bring everybody down, and I don’t think the psalmist was either.  It’s not that there aren’t wonderful things happening around us that are worth celebrating. But we try and hurry through the painful stuff.  We don’t even want to slow down long enough to see what is happening, which is understandable, but not realistic.  Cancer doesn’t cure in a day.  Grief doesn’t go away in a week.  Relationships don’t fix themselves, they take sacrifice and work--sometimes more work than we want to put into them.  World peace is a simple thing to say you want at a beauty pageant, but how many people realistically could create a plan for us to get there? AIDS has been an epidemic for 30 years now.  There’s no quick fix to problems this big. We can’t fast forward through them.

So, let’s slow down a minute.  Even if it hurts to see the faces of those orphaned by AIDS. Even if our blood boils that yet another loved one is hurting, yet another marriage is failing. Let’s be present here and bear our hearts to God.

Matthew 28:16-20

I would venture most of us know this passage fairly well. I would also venture, that most of those that know it wonder how directly it applies to us. And a good number of those hope against the odds that it doesn’t.  As good Methodists, many of us don’t want to make people do something.  We like free will, freedom of choice. And the idea of “making disciples” sounds a bit too pushy and coercive for our liking. Right?  We don’t want to be associated with those who cram religion or faith down others’ throats and so we steer clear of this commandment.

The problem is it’s a commandment.  It’s what Christ has instructed us to do. In essence, it’s why we exist as Christians.  It’s both who we are Christians—because someone else made us disciples, and what we are to do as Christians—to go make disciples of others.

We are called to obey all that Christ has taught us. That includes loving our neighbor, loving our enemies, including the marginalized, humbly serving others, submitting our power, forgiving, and seeking justice.  All those things that sound easy by practically are very challenging are what we are admonished to do. And in doing those things, we should be teaching and encouraging others to do the same. Not forcing. Not coercing. But modeling in such a way that it compels others to follow Christ too.

Maybe you’re still reluctant?  Think of it this way:

We are each a disciple of Christ. You are a follower. You are an apprentice of sorts.  You try and emulate him in your daily life, sometimes with greater success than others.  But regardless, you follow Christ and seek to be more and more like him—more gracious, more loving, more humble, more compassionate, more inclusive, and more merciful.

You are a disciple. And, you are a disciple because someone taught you how. Another disciple taught you how to see with eyes of compassion, how to pray with conviction, how to read the Bible with interest, how to serve with humility, how to be blessed by giving to others. Someone else taught you the stories of Christ and what it is that he holds high. And because of them, you are here.

One disciple (or maybe more) made you a disciple through their example of kindness, or thoughtfulness, or conviction, or hope, or forgiveness, or grace.  They lived in such a way that compelled you to do the same.

And that’s what we are called to do. We are called to live as disciples of Christ in a way that compels others to follow in a way that rallies people to live for peace, justice, hope, reconciliation, and wholeness. To make disciples is to live authentically in the ways of Jesus and teach others to do the same.

Discipleship is not scary. It’s not condemning. It’s life-giving. It’s peace-making. It’s forgiveness offering.

And that’s what we want to be intentional about doing in the coming years.  Last weekend, the church council met to talk about and discern a vision for our church for the next couple of years.  In looking at the nature of our church, we decided that we are the family of God dedicated to caring for all, and our core values are: 1) Nurturing others, 2) Hospitality and welcome, 3) Spiritual formation and discipleship.  For us, (hopefully with a strong understanding of all of us as a church), living our discipleship means bringing people to the family of God, helping them feel a part of the love, welcome, and joy that we have experienced here at Wesley.  We want to nurture them, show them that they are important and special, and we want to help them grow in the ways of Christ. 

Wesley was started by families, and, by in large, throughout our history, we have consisted of families.  Families that were large and small, traditional and non-traditional, families that looked like us and families that didn’t.  We have been a family church. And as we look around our community, we can easily see more families that could be a part of the Wesley family.  There are families that are broken and blended, families that are healthy and some that are unhealthy, families that are religious and families that aren’t, families that are brown, and families that are black, families that are white, families that are Asian, and families that are Indian.  Families that were born here and families that weren’t.  Families that are rich and families that are poor. Families that are educated and families that are illiterate. There is a great diversity of families in our midst. They have so much to teach us and we have so much to give. 

And this family, our family through Christ, the brothers and sisters who gather here each week could fall in love. We could fall in love with the moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas, aunts and uncles, and all the kids that comprise these families.  Our hearts could grow even larger as we learn their stories and come to care for them. 

And we can live out our calling with them. We can disciple them. Some will be familiar with Christ’s ways and what he taught and how he lived. Some will make an easy transition into church life.  Others have never heard the stories. Others have never been told they are precious, or worthy or important. Others have never known true forgiveness. Others have never served a stranger or been reconciled to an enemy. Others have never known peace in their homes, or joy in their work. And it’s our job to disciple them.  It’s our job to model the life we have been called to live.  It’s our calling to love them and teach them to serve; to encourage them and affirm them.  It’s our role to pray with them and help them heal. 

God has given us such great gifts here at Wesley. I’m not sure many of you realize how amazingly blessed and gifted this church body is.  You all are a precious jewel in God’s kingdom. You have so much to offer, so much love to share, and just being with you is healing and redemptive for people.  God has such a promising future for this church. And to get there, we have to use our gifts. We have to reach out to others—in all of their diversity, and live our calling.  Christ’s commandment is simple, not easy, but simple, we must live as Christ taught us to live, and in so doing, we will show others what is possible through a life with Christ, and when they want that, we must teach them what to do.  We must live as Christ taught us to live, and in so doing, we will show others what is possible through a life with Christ, and when they want that, we must teach them what to do. 

We are called to make disciples of Jesus Christ. Not by mandate, but by loving acceptance and inclusion. We are called to see our church as a place that exists both for the people within these walls as well as the people beyond these walls. We are called to lead, for how else will people follow?  We are called to inspire, so that others might know true hope. Our task is not easy, but it is simple and straightforward—to live authentically in the ways of Christ and to teach others to do the same.  Amen.

Daniel 7-12

As I mentioned in the first 2 sermons, we have to cautious and attentive when reading biblical literature.  If we aren’t careful, we can go in with our own agenda and answers and only find what we are looking for rather than looking for and listening to what is really there. 

When I was little, one of my favorite books was There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.  It’s a little Golden book staring Grover, the blue furry guy from Sesame Street.  Now, the title indicates that there’s a monster at the end of the book and upon seeing that Grover gets scared.  He’s scared the entire book and does everything in his power to stop you from turning the pages.  He puts up ropes and boards and bricks to make it impossible to turn the pages.  I tried to find it to share it with all of you, but must not have it anymore.  Anyway, Grover is scared, and begs the reader not to keep turning pages.  He doesn’t want to get to the end of the book because there’s a monster there!  He doesn’t want to be attacked by a monster.  Now, of course, as a kid, I kept reading and loved the more fervent pleas as I went along to stop reading.  And then, at the end of the book, there is indeed a monster…do you know which one?  Grover.  That’s right.  Huggable, lovable, Grover is a monster and he’s at the end of the book.  All that time he was afraid of something and someone that should never have been feared. 

To me, that’s how many of us read the book of Daniel, afraid because we’ve heard that there is something horrible in the book.  We don’t want to persist in reading these scriptures because we are worried about the cataclysmic doom that will befall us if we dare to read on and hear what is going to happen to us.  But just like Grover, we have no reason to fear.  Our fears will not be actualized on the pages of the Bible, not in this book anyway.  So, let’s read about some monsters and try and uncover what’s really there. 

How many of you read chapters 7-9 and thought, “Good Lord have mercy! This is scary weird stuff!”  How many of you felt like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz saying, “Lions, and tigers, and bears, Oh my!”??  Except they were worse.  Not just lions and tigers and bears, but a lion with the wings of eagles, and  a leopard with 4 wings like a bird, and a bear with 3 ribs in its mouth, and then a four headed beast.  These sound like something out o Narnia or Harry Potter, not something from Ancient Babylon. 

At this point in chapter 7, some of us check out—it’s just way too weird and there’s no chance we’re going to understand what happens.  Right?  But there is.  All you have to do is read a bit further and get to the 2^nd half of chapter 7 and it tells you what is really happening.  Remember, much like parables, apocalyptic literature isn’t’ really about the thing that it’s about.

This vision isn’t about lions and tigers and bears. It’s not about mythological characters or a weird acid trip.  It’s actually about power and authority and the rulers of the land.  The 2^nd half of Daniel tells us this, “The 4 great beasts are 4 kingdoms that will rise from the earth. But the saints of the most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever—yes for ever and ever.” So the 4 beasts aren’t real. They weren’t going to appear in front of Daniel or the Israelites and take over the world.  Instead, each beast is symbolic.  Much like the metals of the statue we say in chapter 2.  Remember?  The gold head was Babylon. The silver chest was Medes.  The Bronze body was Persia and the steal legs were Greece. 

These beasts are much the same. Each one represents a succeeding kingdom.  Chapter 8 has a similar vision-this one with goats and rams and horns, but all represent kingdoms we’ve already seen before (chapter 8 tells us that)—Media, Persia, and Greece. 

Now, chapter 8 is one of those places where people get bunged up because they see and read certain words and hone in on those and then lose sight o everything else that is there.  Can anyone guess what those words are? 

They come from chapter 8 verse 17 when the angel says, “Understand that the vision concerns the time of the end.”  My guess is that most of us hear that and are led to certain thoughts.  Right?  Like what?

·         Destruction

·         Rapture

·         End of times

·         End of the world

Lots of people make that connection, but I we do that here, we will get WAY off track.  This isn’t about that.  Not in our terms or our day.

This book and these visions are isolated to a very specific time in history--from around 680-650 BC to 160 BC.  Daniel’s visions are not about our future.  They were particular to the Israelites’ exile in Babylon—through each of the kingdoms represented by the beasts followed by a return to Jerusalem and the Promised Land.

The “end” that is spoken of is the end of Israelite suffering in exile. Chapter 10 chronicles what will happen in those kingdoms in the years after Daniel—who will rule, who will fall, who will be in power, and, in the end, how the suffering of the exile will end. 

That’s it.  No big scary monster.  No mass destruction of the earth. No flying beasts. But the rise and all of powers, and the promised redemption of God’s people.  After all that worry, it’s only the blessing and promise of a loving God. 

Daniel is not a book to be feared.  In a lot of ways, to us now, it’s a history book chronicling the cycle of power during the Israelite exile.  It’s not a book of God’s wrath or destruction.  It’s one that should bring us peace and hope.  After all—what we see is that no matter which countries take power, their era will come to an end and God’s reign will overcome. That, my friends, is good news.