Lent Will Break Your Heart: February 22, 2023

 Year A Ash Wednesday                        Joel 2:1-2, 12-17                                                                                         

            The reading from the prophet Joel begins, “Blow the trumpet in Zion; sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming near—a day of darkness and gloom…”  Welcome to Lent!  This is what you expect from Lent, isn’t it? Darkness, gloom, and then guilt and shame.  It’s your fault all these terrible things are happening.  If you want things to turn things around, you must repent.  That’s’ the way these readings from the prophets normally go. And if you read Joel with that expectation, that is what you will get.  However, upon closer inspection, you might see that Joel is a bit different than the other prophets.

            The first two chapters talk about the destruction of the land due to an enormous locust invasion.  A locust infestation would have destroyed their crops, which was their source of food and money.  It wasn’t just a nuisance; it was a disaster that affected every part of their lives.  What is interesting is that Joel never blames this invasion of locusts on the sins of the people, which was a fairly typical tactic at this time. 

            He painted an alarming and disturbing picture, but given the fact that this was their unavoidable reality, it seems a reasonable thing to do.  But he never blames anyone. In the midst of this disturbing picture, Joel shifts the tone and writes, “Yet even now, says the Lord, return to me with all your heart…” Typically when we see the word return in this context of Ash Wednesday, we think: repentance, confession. And Joel does suggest fasting, weeping and mourning—which we might also associate with repentance.  But consider this, their crops have been decimated.  They are already fasting out of necessity.  If they aren’t weeping and mourning, it’s only because they don’t feel comfortable doing so.  Maybe they are just holding it all together like so many of us do. In some ways, Joel is giving them permission to weep and mourn.

             Then Joel says, “rend your hearts and not your clothing.” Joes doesn’t want them to rip their clothing which is a traditional display of guilt and shame.  He doesn’t ask them to roll in the dirt.  He’s not asking them to repent of sins and he’s not accusing them of anything.  He asks them to fast, to weep, to mourn and to rend their hearts. 

`           Rend your hearts.  It literally means to tear your heart…which sounds a lot like a broken heart.  Frankly I would rather tear my clothing.  But we must remember that these people were already suffering. Their hearts were probably already broken.  Joel was asking them to break them a little more…but not so they could punish themselves.  He was asking them to rend their hearts so that they could renew their relationship with God.  “Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”

            We don’t know why the people have distanced themselves from God. Maybe it was something they did, maybe it was totally out of their control. Perhaps, they didn’t even know it was happening.  And then suddenly they realized, they no longer had a relationship with God. Maybe the stress of the famine had been too much for them. Or they lost too many people they loved. It could have been an intentional decision, but more likely, it was just a gradual distancing.  That is what it usually is. 

            Joel wasn’t telling people to repent (and just so you know, there is nothing wrong with repentance, it’s a good and important thing), but that is not what this story was about.  How do we know? Because he wasn’t telling them what to repent from.  No, his very ardent desire was for them to reconnect with God, reorient their lives in a way that God would once again be at the center. 

            Joel wasn’t spending time asking why all these horrible things are happening and why God feels so far away—as we so often see in the psalms and even our own lives.  No.  He was calling for action.  He believed that what we do as humans matter.  It affects the world and it affects our relationship with God.  In Hebrew thought, the heart isn’t the seat of the emotion as much as it’s a place of thought and reflection.  When Joel told the people to rend their hearts, he wanted them to spend time considering how they can repair their relationship with God. Don’t obsess over why it’s happening or why it isn’t fair.  None of that will help.  Instead, Joel is saying, “Ok, this is the horrible stuff we are dealing with and this is how we are going to climb out of it. 

            First we will fast. Then we will weep and mourn. Then we will spend time reconnecting with the God of grace and mercy.  Then…well Joel doesn’t actually predict what will happen after that.  He doesn’t promise that the harvest will return and all will be well again.  Joel doesn’t make any promises at all…it’s more like an appeal.  He encourages them to join together—weep together, pray together, reconnect with God and with the people of God.

            That is what we are asking during Lent as well. We haven’t had an invasion of locusts, but we’ve had about every other imaginable thing.  Maybe you feel like you are 100% committed to God right now and there is absolutely no way you can improve upon that. If so, you can stop listening.  Otherwise, it might be time to take the advice of Joel.  Fast…if not from food, from the thing that distracts you most from your relationship with God.  Weep and mourn…if not for yourself for someone else.  There is no shortage of suffering people in our world today.  Tear you heart, not with the intent to hurt, but to open it up a little more to God’s mercy and grace.  Join the community of faith, because this is hard stuff and you might need some support.  Come to our Lenten program Wednesday nights where people will be sharing parts of their faith journey.  Attend every Sunday service you can attend.  Make an appointment with Mark or me if you need to talk. Seriously, clergy live for those kinds of conversations.  Return to God with all your heart. 

Glory Is All Around: Feb 19, 2023

 Year A, Last Sunday of Epiphany                                       Matthew 17:1-9                                                        

         It’s the last Sunday before Lent begins, the last Sunday for us to sing as many Alleluias as possible and sing them loudly. This Sunday ends our season of Epiphany, the time we talk about light and revelation. It’s a season that we can easily overlook, like the calm before the dark storm that is Lent.  Lent isn’t really stormy.  It’s just a season that we happen to associate with suffering and darkness.  The first day of Lent is Ash Wednesday.  What do we do on Ash Wednesday? We smear ash on people’s faces and remind them that they are going to die.  It’s truly a wonder that anyone comes to that service. 

            This Gospel reading is an interesting transition from Epiphany to Lent.  It’s a story of light and revelation, but there is a certain foreboding within the story---well really on either side of the story.  Right before Jesus ascended the mountain with three of his disciples, he explained that he would have to suffer and die.  Peter argued with Jesus when he made this revelation.  Peter could not wrap his head around the idea that the messiah—the person who was supposed to save them all—would soon be killed. 

It was after this information was relayed that Jesus brought his friends to the top of the mountain.  I have often wondered about the timing.  Was Jesus hoping to provide some clarity for his disciples about the message he had just given them, or was he just trying to have some quality time with his friends who were probably reeling from this new and disturbing information?  We really don’t know. 

            We often hear people talk about mountain top experiences.  Sometimes it is literally about the experience of climbing to the top of a mountain and witnessing an extraordinary view that takes your breath away.  Sometimes people use that phrase to describe a time of transcendence—a moment where they felt closer to God, a time of faith and assurance.  We can actually use that phrase for a lot of different things.

Mount Tabor

However, Jesus’ disciples would have had some specific associations with mountain tops. The mountain was where heaven and earth met. It was a place that people encountered the divine.  Mountains are mentioned more than 500 times in the Bible, most notably in Moses’ interactions with the voice of God.  That is where Moses received the 10 Commandments. Important things happened on mountains in the Jewish faith. All of Jesus’ disciples would have known these stories well and thus known the significance of the mountain.

            Therefore, it’s not surprising that these amazing things would happen at the top of the mountain.  First Jesus was transfigured before them—meaning his face got shiny and his clothes were extra bright. Then two prophets, who were long since dead, appeared.  After that a voice from heaven spoke to the disciples…the disciples.  And here is the crazy thing, of all those miraculous events that happened on that mountaintop, it wasn’t the glowing Jesus or two dead prophets back to life, it was something as simple as a voice.  That is what really got the disciple’s attention.  It wasn’t just any voice.  It was God’s voice. And for once, God was talking directly to the disciples. 

That is what really freaked them out. They were accustomed to things happening to Jesus, and maybe even to the people around them.  They had witnessed their share of miracles. But this was different, because God was talking to them and more importantly he was telling them to do something, to listen to Jesus.  And what had Jesus just told them? He had told them that he had to suffer and die and they too would have to take up their cross if they wanted to be his followers.   It’s not the kind of thing you want to hear from a heavenly voice. It’s the kind of thing you want to tell yourself was just a big misunderstanding and of course Jesus didn’t mean that he was really going to suffer and die.

            When the three disciples heard the voice from heaven, they fell to the earth in fear.   Because the earth was what they knew.  It was firm. Maybe, just maybe if they stayed there for a while they could forget this all happened.  Then Jesus bent over and touched them and he said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  When they looked up, they saw it was just them and Jesus, just the way it should be.  And maybe they thought this was all just a dream and they could forget it.  But no, Jesus made sure to remind them on the way down the mountain, that he would have to suffer and die. This time, no one argued with him. 

            Lent isn’t merely a time of suffering and darkness.  It’s a time when we confront certain truths, maybe truths that we don’t want to confront.  It’s a time to repent from our sins.  No one likes to talk about sin.  But repentance isn’t just a about feeling guilt and shame, it’s a reorientation. It’s an opportunity to change, for the better.  The reason we have the story of the transfiguration right before Lent is to remind us that even in the midst of suffering and repentance, there is also glory and light.  There is a God who desperately wants us to listen to him, but is also willing to get on the ground with us, put his hand on our shoulder and say, “It’s time to get up and stop living in fear.”

            On the way down Jesus told his disciples not to tell anyone about what happened until he was resurrected.  I like to think he told them this because he knew that they would need this reminder of a light that we can find even in the darkest of times.  They didn’t need to use this moment to evangelize and teach.  It was just for them, a place to return in their mind and heart when the world seemed to be ending.  When Jesus was hanging on the cross, they could close their eyes---see the light and feel his hand on their shoulder telling them not to be afraid.

            That’s what many of us need—a reminder to find courage when we are afraid, a reminder that we need not fear the terror of the night—that we can confront those things we would rather avoid and forget.  Lent is a time to face our fears, our failures, and our sins---but to do that with the knowledge that those failures and sins can never defeat us because we have a God who can both glorify the earth and also kneel down next to us when our face in on the ground, brush us off and tell us not to be afraid because glory (God’s glory) is all around us. 

Don't Hide Your Light: Feb. 5 2023

Year A, Epiphany 5                         Matthew 5:13-20                     

          “You are the salt of the earth….You are the light of the world.”  Notice that Jesus doesn’t say: you can be the salt and you can be light of the earth, if you are super pious, kind and faithful.  He doesn’t say you should aspire to be the light and salt of the world.  No, you already are this.  And who is the you he is talking about?  I believe the proper translation is y’all.  Y’all are the salt and light of the world.  This is something that we are as individuals as well as the collective you—y’all.  Now that we have established that, what does it mean?  We should know that since we already are these things.

                Salt had slightly different purposes in the time when Jesus was telling people, “You are the salt of the earth.” It was used to preserve food.  It was even used for heat. They did not have gas or electric ovens like we have today.  They didn’t even use wood because it was hard to come by.  The stuff that was very abundant was camel or donkey dung.  This could be used as fuel, but only if you were able to mix salt with it.  Salt was essentially the catalyst that caused the dung to burn. While this is not the most appetizing image, it makes it clear that salt is more than just something that is supposed to give some zest to food.  It’s a catalyst for change.  It enables something totally ordinary (and a little gross) to become fuel.

          Light is a more obvious metaphor.  Most of what we do in this world requires light.  It enables us to see.  It warms our climate.  Light is required for plants and trees to grow, which provides us with food and oxygen. And sunlight, it makes most people feel better.  It increases the serotonin in our bodies which makes us happier.  Without any light, the world would end.  When Jesus was telling his disciples and followers that they were light, the importance of that can’t be overstated. 

One might even think it’s a little much.  Are we really the light, or are we vessels of God’s light?  Maybe it’s a little of both.  God is the source of all light and love.  We carry that light.  That is why Jesus was so confident in telling us that we are already light.  We have light because that light has been given to us.  It’s the same with the salt.  We have been given this ability to be a catalyst in our world.  How?  Because we worship a God who was and is one of the greatest catalysts.  Jesus changed death, into life.  You don’t get a bigger change or transformation than that.

          However just because we have these things doesn’t mean we can just sit back and relax.  We have to do more than just hold on to these things--we must share them and display them. When it comes to light, we are the window that it shines through. Yet when we are reluctant to talk about our faith, our church, or Jesus, then we are essentially covering up that window.  The light just gets stuck.  It might warm our hearts, but if it doesn’t touch anyone else, then we are not doing what Jesus asked of us.  Jesus told us to “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

          This can make a lot of people uncomfortable.  We like to have our faith private.  We figure it’s no one’s business what we believe.  We are a good people and that is all they need to know.  And I get it.  We don’t want people to think we are trying to convert them.  We don’t want non-Christians to think that we are judging them.  But since when does talking about what you believe imply judgement?  If someone feels judged because you say that you believe in a God of love and compassion, then that’s on them.  That probably means they have heard a warped version of the Gospel and maybe, just maybe, hearing something non-threatening from you might change their life.

          Because that is what we as Christians are meant to do, change lives.  That’s where the salt comes in.  The animal dung needs the salt.  Otherwise, it’s just poop.  Salt allows that dung to turn into fire.

          A couple of years ago I was taking a writing class at a community writing center.  And while I wasn’t writing sermons, pretty much everything I wrote had something to do with God. I guess I am a bit of a one trick monkey.   Anyhow, we had to share what we wrote with this group of 10 people and I became convinced that one individual hated me.  He spent most of his time looking down, but when he did look up, it was to glare at me.  He responded to any comments I made with thinly veiled contempt.  I was ready to quit the class and then I got a long e-mail from  him where he actually said that he hated me, mostly because I was a pastor and I represented everything that was wrong with Christianity. He wasn’t saying this so we could resolve this, he just wanted me to know that he hated me. 

As you can imagine, I felt like this required a nuanced response.  I realized it really wasn’t about me and he had clearly had a negative experience with other Christians.  I can’t remember what I wrote, but it started a dialogue and we eventually became friends, not like making dinner together friends, but occasionally exchanging a facebook message kind of friends. 

While it was an awkward experience, I like to think that his view Christians changed a little.  I would never tell him this, but I think he saw the light of God…just a little.  And it wasn’t because I am some amazing Christian, but that I was willing to be open about what I believed and also what I wasn’t quite sure about. And if I can do that with someone who hated me, anyone can do it with a friend or acquaintance who has no opinion of Christians.         

You might assume, well everyone knows something about church, especially the people I spend time with.  Let’s just assume that’s correct.  Let’s assume everyone in your circle knows about church. What do they know about church? Do they know about church from their experience of being a child or a teenager in church? Do they know about church because of the church that refused to officiate their second marriage?  Is their last memory of church a place that hurt them and made them feel “less than?” Because if that is the case, then they have an incomplete view of church. You can provide a fuller picture.

Most of the children who are born today, are being raised by parents who have never been part of a church, which means, they won’t even be going on Christmas or Easter.  Their experience will be limited to what they see on the screens and what they hear from friends and family, which will be limited.

Photo by Ihor Malytskyi

          Don’t underestimate the impact that your light—or God’s light that shines through you—can have another person. This person doesn’t know that the church you go to is a place of love an acceptance, a place that doesn’t care what you do, how much money you make, or even who you voted for.  They just care that you are there.  Don’t deny someone else the light that you have experienced.  Because God’s light, is just as important as sunlight for every living and growing thing. It enables life, breath, joy and yes, even change.  If you aren’t sharing that light, then you are hiding that light.  And let me tell you all, I have seen your light, I have seen your fire and it’s a beautiful thing to behold.  Don’t hide it because there are people out there, who need it---they need it desperately and you…you can  provide it.