Luke 10: 38-42 [i]
Lauren J. McFeaters
July 24, 2022
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As we travel this summer with Jesus, we meet two sisters at odds: Martha being upset she’s left alone in the kitchen;

Mary freely spending her time at Jesus’ feet. Martha is entirely focused on hospitality. Mary is entirely focused on welcome.

But before we take one more step; one more glimpse into this text – here’s the thing we don’t want to do – we don’t want to make this scripture, a caricature, a cartoon, with an obsessive Martha up to her eyeballs in soapsuds, and a virtuous Mary curled up in front of the fire, and Jesus all the while giving a scriptural warrant for dishes piling up in the sink.

We may be tempted to draw a cartoon bubble over Martha’s head that reads, “Get in here NOW and help!” Or a bubble over Mary’s head screaming, “Miss Bossy Pants is at it again!” Or a haloed and illuminated bubble over Jesus’ head proclaiming, “Chill Martha! I am your non-anxious presence.”

Fred Craddock says if we criticize Martha too harshly, she may abandon serving all together, and if we praise Mary too profusely, she may sit there forever. There is a time to go and do; there is a time to listen and reflect. Knowing which and when – is a matter for our spiritual discernment. And if we were to ask Jesus, “Should we be Marys or Marthas? Marthas or Marys?” his answer would probably be “Yes.” [ii]

I was raised by Marthas; that is I was raised by women for whom hospitality is an art form. They were all born in the south – Pickens Mississippi, north of Jackson.

There was my Grandmother Josie Mae, and her sisters, my Great Aunts Willie Hines, Amy Lee, and Elene. There was my own mother Joanne, my Aunt Corinne; my Cousin Bobbie. Southern women are prodigious Marthas and proud of it. Having been raised by them, I know that Dinner in a southern kitchen is a wonder to behold. I say Dinner because that’s the meal served at noontime, when everyone comes in to take a break and enjoy the central meal of the day.

And those whose southern hospitality is refined to an art – never sit. They hover. They mysteriously glide around the table – as if on ice skates. Plates never go empty. Guests are continually offered exactly what they need.

In fact, the southern hostess will continue to cook all through the meal: the okra needs to be re-strained and served mid-way; corn must always be served straight out of the pot; dumplings require a last, oh-so-gentle fold-over before being ladled into the yellow Pyrex bowl; and a cast-iron skillet of cornbread is delivered straight from the oven.

And somehow the prayer before the meal is timed so perfectly that the food doesn’t skip a beat. I have never in all my life been able to time a meal in all of its glory like my Grandmother and Great Aunts. Their greens are still steaming as the limas are cooling. The biscuits are evenly brown even though there’s one oven stoked by a wood fire. Our Kitchenaid dual fuel range with griddle and oven has nothing on them – nothing.

And when does the hostess eat? This is one of the great mysteries of the South. The hostess keeps working, scurrying around the table, stopping mid-stride only to wipe the steam from her glasses with a pristine apron. She gives herself totally to serving.[iii] And we are all grateful.

But when you welcome Jesus to your house for a summer meal – things get – upsetting. At Martha’s house, Jesus has no need (as of yet) for hummus, fish and pita. What he does need, and it’s a deep need, is for both Mary and Martha’s conversation and friendship. And that moves us to the heart of the Mary and Martha story.

Tom Long puts it like this:  There is nothing wrong with Martha’s fixing the food. This is the way people show love and welcome, hospitality, and care. In fact there is something absolutely essential about showing one’s love of God and neighbor: by stirring the apple sauce and canning the crab apples; by organizing the snacks and crafts before VBS; by spackling a ceiling for Appalachian Service Project; collecting backpacks and supplies for students in need and baking the meatloaf and cookies for Loaves & Fishes.

 Martha is doing a good thing; a necessary thing; an act of service. But if we try to do this kind of service:

• apart from the life-giving Word of the Gospel,
• apart from sitting at our Lord’s feet,
• apart from steeping ourselves in the Light of the World, apart from conversation with God,
• it will distract us and worry us, beat us down, and burn us out. [iv]

 

Do you know what I mean? We are sometimes so committed to the church and its mission that we burn out. Sometimes we throw ourselves into activity and become drained emotionally. Our balance gets lost, we don’t ask for help, and we tumble down the slippery slope of too much, too often, too far.

Sometimes our over-activity is a way to run from something. We may be too attached to finding our identity in the accolades we receive, the kudos we are given. It becomes quite seductive to be the one who can do it all, can shoulder huge responsibility, who receives admiration for over-doing, over-stretching, and over-performing. We detach from the substance of the Gospel and eat our weight in commitments.

All of this happens when we’ve not yet learned that our worth, is not attached to the do-ing, but the be-ing. That the greatest affirmation comes from living fully in the moment at the feet of Jesus.[v]

Perhaps Martha has not yet discovered the wisdom of living in the present moment. What Jesus wants for her when he says her name, not once, but twice, “O Martha, O Martha,” is for her to find the better portion, not this minute in the kitchen, but this minute beside him.

You see, Jesus’ call to Martha is not a rebuke: “O Martha!!!! Martha!!!” But they are words of compassion: “O Martha. Martha”

It’s a little like his word to the crowds, “Come to me all  who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” [vi] Or “Do not be anxious for tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself.” [vii]

Martha’s hospitality is not a trifling; her homekeeping is not trivial. Hospitality finally means that somebody has to snap the pole beans and stir the succotash.

Someone has to arrive at church early on Sunday morning and put out the crayons and construction paper. Busy work? Worry work? Absolutely not.[viii]

But as we sit at Jesus’ feet today,

we remember there is a time to go and do;

there is a time to listen and reflect.

 

It’s a deep need,

and it is for both Mary and Martha,

and for each one of us,

to share in the better portion –

the better portion of Jesus himself.

 

Thanks be to God.

 

ENDNOTES

[i]  Luke 10:38-42 (NRSV):  Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. Martha had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

[ii]  Fred B Craddock. Luke. Louisville: John Knox Press, 1990, 152.

[iii]  I am grateful for images and remembrances of Mary W. Anderson’s article “Hospitality Theology.” The Christian Century, Chicago, IL:  The Christian Century Foundation, July 1, 1998.

[iv]  Thomas G. Long. Sermon: “Mary and Martha.” Proper 11, Luke 10: 38-42. Broadcast on Day1 from Alliance for Christian Media, Chicago, IL, day1.org, July 2007.

[v]  L’Arche. Community and Growth. Toronto: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1991, 177.

[vi]  Matthew 11.

[vii]  Matthew 6.

[viii]  Thomas G. Long. Sermon: “Mary and Martha.” Proper 11, Luke 10: 38-42. Broadcast on Day 1 from Alliance for Christian Media, Chicago, IL, day1.org, July 2007.

 

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Galatians 5:13-25 [i]
Lauren J. McFeaters
July 17, 2022
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Freedom in Christ comes in many shapes and sizes.

There’s a legend about how freedom first comes with great heartache and then is found in grace. The legend is about Judas Iscariot. After his death, Judas found himself at the bottom of a deep and slimy pit.

For thousands of years, he wept his remorse, and when the tears were finally over, he looked up, and saw, far into the distance, a tiny glimmer of light.

After a time, he began to climb up toward the light. The walls of the pit were dark and wet, and time and time again he kept slipping back down.

But finally, after great effort, he reached the top and as he dragged himself into a room; he saw it was an upper room; and he saw people, his people, people he knew, people seated around a table. And Jesus said,

“We’ve been waiting for you, Judas.”

“We couldn’t begin, until you arrived.” ^[ii]

You know, I cried when I read that story because I know freedom in Christ can come with great anguish and miraculous surprises.

When you travel with Paul to Galatia, you meet new Christians for whom freedom in Christ has been given. The problem, however, is they find no joy in their freedom.

Instead, they are held captive by unending arguments. We meet a church biting and devouring one another; tearing each other apart, and completely turning their backs on a grace that has set them free. For Paul, whose Gospel message is the unbound and unrestrained life lived in Jesus, “the Galatians’ fighting is the outward and visible sign of their ongoing captivity. ^[iii]

And Paul knows all about freedom in Christ because he knows first-hand about captivity:

• I’ve known the captivity of illness, ill-health, and disease, he says.
• Five times I have received forty lashes less one; he wrote.
• Once I was stoned.
• Three times I have been shipwrecked.
• I’ve been in danger from rivers … robbers … my own people.
• I’ve been imprisoned in toil and hardship, in hunger and thirst…in cold and exposure. ^[iv]

The wonder of Paul is, in the midst of chaos and confinement, that he was able to live a life unbound and unrestrained.

Frederick Buechner puts it like this:

You see, there was hardly a whistle-stop in the Mediterranean world that Paul didn’t make it to eventually, and sightseeing was the least of it.

He planted churches the way Johnny Appleseed planted trees. And whenever he had ten minutes to spare he wrote letters.

He browbeat. He coaxed. He comforted. He cursed. He bared his soul. He reminisced. He complained. He theologized. He inspired. He exulted.

And everything he ever said or wrote or did, from the Damascus Road on, was an attempt to bowl over the human race as he’d been bowled over. ^[v]

The day Paul found freedom in Christ was the day nothing became impossible.

And this is why he is so distraught over his beloved Galatian Church. They’ve taken the gift of salvation and turned it into a reason for self-indulgence and immaturity.

So Paul writes with agitation and worry and with the soul of a pastor. You can hear the furious scratching of ink on papyrus:

• God has set us free in Christ – but not free to do whatever feels good or whatever we want.
• No! Freedom in Christ means to be in service to others and in service to God.
• There are a whole lot of things we simply cannot do and have no place in the Christian life: Sexual immorality, witchcraft, temper tantrums, getting roaring drunk, envy and pride, and community-breaking posturing.
• Christ did not set you free to be a jerk. Christ did not set you free to be a self-centered party person.
• Instead of indulging in your selfish misery, there is Gospel Medicine in the form “Fruit of the Spirit.” Nine beautiful, healing, restorative character traits, each flowing out of the one before, and altogether making up a matched set:

Love, becomes joy, and grows to be peace,

peace turns into patience.

Kindness leads to generosity and flourishes as faithfulness.

And finally, gentleness is the key to self-control.

Unlike Paul’s 1^st Letter to the Corinthians where his Gifts of the Spirit — differ from person to person — these Fruits of the Spirit are to be common to all. You cannot say you are called to the fruit of kindness, but that patience is not something you need. No. Each fruit implies the other eight fruits and together they make up our Christ-like identity.[vi]

Isn’t it obvious what happens when we try to get our own way all the time; when our wills run riot, and our pleasure-seeking knows no bounds? Without living in Christ’s freedom, our days turn into one big Roulette Wheel of “Choose Your Fortune!” We are stuck in the slimy pit and are:

• Perpetually instigators of drama.
• Accumulators of emotional garbage;
• Cheaters for advancement.
• Grabbers of attention.
• Our tempers burn out our hearts;
• Our unrestrained judgment poisons our souls. [vii]

But my friends, watch what happens when you’re willing to set aside the misery that keeps you trapped. God grants such calm and simplicity; such humility and serenity. It’s much the same way fruit appears on a tree. We bud, we grow up, and we mature. We gain everything:

• A willingness to stick with people;
• Acts of compassion trip from our hearts;
• We cultivate a conviction that people of good conscience can disagree.
• We find ourselves with loyal friends and we become healthier companions.
• Our manipulation and over-control fade away and we become trustworthy, honorable, and dependable.
• We have no need to force our way into others lives.
• Our ability to forgive ripens to overflowing. [viii]
• And the Gospel blossoms from our branches, like fruit from a well-watered tree.^[ix]

And living our days in that kind of freedom is like:

Looking up and seeing (far in the distance)

a glimmer of light.

And climbing to the light,

reaching the top,

you find ourself in a room, at the table,

with people you know and love,

and they’re smiling, weeping,

and there is our Lord, who looks at you and says:

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“We couldn’t begin until you arrived.”

 

ENDNOTES

[i]  Galatians 5:13-25: For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become servants to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another. Live by the Spirit, I say, and do not gratify the desires of the flesh. For what the flesh desires is opposed to the Spirit, and what the Spirit desires is opposed to the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, to prevent you from doing what you want. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not subject to the law. Now the works of the flesh are obvious: fornication, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also be guided by the Spirit.

[ii] Madeleine L’Engle as cited by James T. Moor. A Place of Welcome. Luke 7:36-50. Day1, A division of the Alliance for Christian Media, Atlanta, Georgia, June 17, 2007.

[iii]  J. William Harkins. Feasting on the Word:  Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary, Year C, Vol. 3. Eds. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010, 186.

[iv] 2 Corinthians 11:24-27

[v] 1 Corinthians 1:18-25

[vi]  Scott Hoezee. “Galatians 5:1, 13-25 Commentary.” Center for Excellence in Preaching,  cepreaching.org, June 26, 2016.

[vii] Galatians 5: 19-21 adapted from Eugene Peterson’s The Message. Colorado Springs, CO:  NavPress, 1993.

[viii] Galatians 5: 22-25 adapted from Eugene Peterson’s The Message. Colorado Springs, CO:  NavPress, 1993.

[ix]  Frederick Buechner. Excerpt from Peculiar Treasures. www.frederickbuechner.com, July 8, 2012.

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Colossians 1:1-14
David A. Davis
July 10, 2022
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This morning at 4:00 am the vans pulled out of the driveway for the youth mission trip’s return to the Appalachian Service Project. 25 youth and adult advisors will spend their days splitting into teams and fanning out to various house repair and rebuild projects in the region. They will spend their nights sleeping in a school gymnasium. Thus, they are on the road and I am here. For several years Cathy and I were advisors on the trip to the youth conference in Montreat, North Carolina. The week includes worship, keynote speakers, small groups, and lots of young people. One summer at the conference they would show a video each day of a project somewhere in the world launched by young people. Young people in an African country turning used bullets into crosses. A team of young people taking on plastic bag pollution along the shore. Young people raising money for clean water. All of these daily videos were impressive. More to the point, the young people were impressive. Long about Thursday one of the teens from Nassau came up to us a bit distraught. A summary of what was said goes something like this: “I worry that God is disappointed with me because I don’t do enough. I don’t have a big idea to save the world like the kids in those videos.”  The feelings of the young follower of Jesus were as real as the tears there running down their cheek.

“….so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to God, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God.”  That is the prayer of the Apostle Paul for the followers of Jesus in Colossae. “We have not ceased to praying for you and asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding so that you might lead lives…pleasing…bearing…growing…” A prayer for the followers of Jesus that they might lead lives fully pleasing to God not necessarily with ideas that can save the world but with bearing fruit in every good work, and growing in the knowledge of God.

Pleasing to God. For some, perhaps many, these days, it may be more common to ponder the very tears of God. To rise in the morning confronted again with all in the world must certainly move the Rock of Ages to tears. To close the day by lifting everything to God in prayer, all that must cause the Balm of Gilead to weep. Yet, this prayer of Paul in the first chapter of Colossians offers an invitation, an exhortation even, to ponder that which pleases the Maker of Heaven and Earth. This prayer of Paul is an invitation, an exhortation to the followers of Jesus to lead lives fully pleasing to God, bearing fruit in every good work, and growing in the knowledge of God.

Peter Gomes was one of my preaching mentors. I was a member of the university choir and had the opportunity to listen to Professor Gomes preach most Sundays. He had a favorite turn of phrase that I heard often: “Thinking hearts and loving minds.” He often exhorted students to head out into the world not just with thinking minds and loving hearts but with thinking hearts and loving minds. He once said it this way to the graduating class at Lafayette College: “Hearts tend to be large, squishy, undiscerning sorts of things, the home of powerful feelings and emotions, but a thinking heart is one that deploys its passions carefully. It strikes me as a good formula for life, loving minds, and thinking hearts and I commend that notion of the self to you as you make your way.”

I have been drawn this week to the “loving minds” part of the equation. It helps me try to wrap both my heart and my head around what on earth it means to grow in the knowledge of God. In his “Institutes of the Christian Religion”, John Calvin begins with this sentence: “Nearly all the wisdom we possess, that is to say, true and sound wisdom, consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves”. Calvin then goes on in page after page, chapter after chapter. Book 1 and Book 2 offer a complex theological argument unpacking the knowledge of God. As much as John Calvin has shaped my own theological education and formation and, in fact, the theological tradition now entrusted to us, I wonder if knowledge of God has to be all that complicated. I am pretty sure growing in the knowledge of God is more than reading book after book after book. When it comes to growing in the knowledge of God, it might be more about a loving mind. Loving minds, thinking hearts, and lives fully pleasing to God, bearing fruit in every good work, and growing in the knowledge of God.

Eugene Peterson puts the verse from Colossians about growing in the knowledge of God this way in this paraphrase of the Bible entitled “The Message”. “As you learn more and more how God works, you will learn how to do your work.” Watching God work and learning how to do ours. To grow in the knowledge of God is to watch God work and learn how to do our work. The Apostle Paul and John Calvin agree on the key that unlocks the knowledge of God. Paul just does it right here in one brief chapter. To watch God working is to first and foremost, look to Jesus Christ. After these first 14 verses I offered for your hearing, Paul soars into what tradition calls “the Christ hymn”.  “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him, all things hold together. He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead so that he might come to have first place in everything. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him, God was pleased to reconcile to Godself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.”

The eye and ear naturally fall toward the Christ hymn here in chapter 1. The hymn most often stands alone. We sometimes use the hymn alone as an affirmation of faith in worship. But in the flow of Paul’s letter, the rhetorical and theological flourish of the Christ hymn finishes the trajectory of his prayer to lead lives fully pleasing to God, bearing fruit in every good work and growing in the knowledge of God. Pleasing, bearing, growing? Look to the one who is the very fullness of God. The Apostle gives the theological answer to the member of the youth group lamenting they didn’t have an idea to save the world. In Jesus Christ, God has already saved the world. But there is also a pastoral and relational and practical answer to the young disciple yearning to please God that flows from Paul’s argument as well. Yes, if you want to watch how God works, look to Jesus Christ. Indeed, the first born of all creation, the head of the church, the beginning, the first born of the dead, the fullness of God. But look to his loving, healing, boundary-crossing, welcoming, teaching, convicting, challenging, comforting, suffering, dying, and rising as well. To grow in the knowledge of God is to be more and more persuaded that “God is love and those who abide in love abide in God.” I John. To bear fruit in every good work is to lean into, double down, and emphasize in all things the first fruit of the Spirit which is love. (Galatians). To lead a life fully pleasing to God is “to love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind….and to love your neighbor as yourself.” (Jesus in Matthew’s gospel). Pleasing. Bearing. Growing. It is to never forget Jesus’ words in Luke to the one who affirmed to Jesus that the Samaritan who showed mercy to the man who had been robbed and beaten acted like a neighbor. Jesus said, “Go and do likewise.”

Some might have seen an op-ed piece this week by the author Anne Lamott. The op-ed piece was much like her published work except there were no bad words. It was an essay on prayer. “How do people like me who believe entirely in science and reason also believe that prayer can heal and restore?” she writes. “Well, I’ve seen it a thousand times in my own inconsequential life. God seems like a total showoff to me, if perhaps unnecessarily cryptic.” Lamott goes on in the piece to say “It is miserable to be a hater. I pray to be more like Jesus with his crazy compassion and reckless love. Some days go better than others. I pray to remember that God loves Marjorie Taylor Greene exactly the same as God loves my grandson because God loves period. God does not have an app for Not love. God sees beyond each person’s awfulness to each person’s need. God loves them, as is. God’s is better than this than I am”,

Growing in the knowledge of God is being drawn more and more into the crazy compassion and reckless love of Jesus. Growing in the knowledge of God is learning over and over and over again that while God is so much better at love than we are, we can never stop trying. Growing in the knowledge of God is to cling ever tighter to the sense deep within your soul that while yes, this world may bring tears to the eyes of the Rock of Ages and bring the Balm of Gilead to tears, God still loves…this world and that which is pleasing to God in this world is every act of love. Growing in the knowledge of God after a week when the highest court in the land expanded the right to carry a weapon and restricted the reproductive rights of women is to rise each day with the assurance that God still bestows upon you, to use the words of Dr. King, the strength to love in the everyday good works of your life. Growing in the knowledge of God is to ever more and ever more cling to the promise of I John that God is “greater than our hearts” and as hatred and bigotry suck the air out of the halls where elect people are called to govern and gun violence rules city streets and rains death down upon a parade you and I are still invited, still exhorted to live and breath in our little corners of the world.

You and I are invited by the Apostle Paul and called by Jesus himself to live lives that are pleasing, bearing, and growing with thinking hearts and loving minds always watching and never forgetting how God works.

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Matthew 13:44-53 [i]
Lauren J. McFeaters
July 3, 2022
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When it feels like the world is falling apart and I to find goodness, I dive into the Theater – specifically in the reading of plays.

So far this year I’ve read:

• Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun.
• Tony Kushner’s Angels in America: A Gay Fantasia on National Themes.
• Athol Fugard’s “Master Harold”…and the boys.
• August Wilson’s The Pittsburgh Cycle, including Joe Turner’s Come and Gone, Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom, The Piano Lesson, and Fences.
• The latest play I’ve read, sucker-punched me with its ferocity – it’s Lawrence and Lee’s Inherit the Wind.

You may have seen the film with Spencer Tracy, but it was first a play, a fictionalized account of the 1925 trial of the high school teacher John Scopes for breaking Tennessee state law and teaching the theory of evolution rather than the Biblical account of creation The title of the play comes from Proverbs 11: Those who trouble their households will inherit the wind, and the fool will be servant to the wise. Sounds like Jesus in Matthew 13.

William Jennings Bryan is the prosecutor, and a stalwart activist in the religious movement we know as Fundamentalism. The defense attorney for Mr. Scopes is Clarence Darrow; a different kind of man.

The play was a sensation and even though Williams Jennings Bryan won the case and Mr. Scopes was fined $100, Clarence Darrow’s determined defense of Mr. Scopes dealt a blow to Jennings Bryan. Just days after the trial ended, the religious zealot, William Jennings Bryan died.

There is a quite heartbreaking scene in the play, for me it’s the crucial treasure. An arrogant and brash reporter hears of Bryan’s death, and says to Clarence Darrow:

“Why should we weep for him in death?

You know what he was –

a Barnum & Bailey Bunkum;

a Bible-Beating Blowhard.”

 

But Clarence Darrow says:

“A giant once lived in that body.

But the man got lost – lost because

he was looking for God:

too high up, and too far away.” ^[ii]

 

As Jesus leads us into today’s parables he insists we not get too high up and too far away looking for the Kingdom of Heaven. It’s how many of us get lost – looking for God too high up and too far away. We forget, or never knew, or were denied along the years the possibility that God’s kingdom, as Matthew says, is to be found within and between us – close in, as near as a heartbeat, and breath, and hands touching.

Instead of lifting our eyes to the skies, Jesus walks us through field and farm, village and lakeshore. He leads us to the earth, to soil, to water. ^[iii] Jesus lands us at:

• Princeton Seminary’s Farminary and the fields of radishes, greens, and squash are flourishing to;
• Thomas and Trevor’s Homesteaders Kingston Farm, where the trellises are up, tomatoes and peppers are launched, lavender is in full force, and the chickens are trying to behave, and then;
• Down the shore to the docks of Barnegat Light, where two million pounds of seafood will be hauled in this summer.
• Jesus says, “Children of God, don’t get lost looking for the Kingdom of Heaven too high up and too far away, the treasure is right here and right now, right under your nose.”

Did you notice in our text, Jesus’ emphasis is not just on finding Gospel treasure, but on what we do with it once it’s found:

• In his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field;
• On finding one pearl of great value, she went and sold all that she had and bought it;
• They drew the fish ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.

Do you see Jesus’ path for us? When we confuse the Kingdom of God with being moral, upright, self-righteous, and virtuous, we forget we’re made of dust.

Jesus gives us eyes to meet God:

• in the common rather than the rare;
• the familiar rather than extraordinary;
• not so much in being special but ordinary;
• rather than in our strength and cleverness; to meet our Maker in our weakness, fragility, and blemishes, and in that, we discover priceless treasure: The Upside-Down Kingdom of God.[iv]

Scott Hoezee, puts it like this: When we encounter something precious, something of immeasurable value, nothing else compares. This is the Kingdom of Heaven. When we encounter it and realize what it is, it enters our hearts, seizes our imaginations, and overwhelms us with its value. No price is too great; nothing that we own can rival its value…And here’s the thing: it comes to us in the every day when we are studying – driving, cooking – chatting, raising children – teaching.

• In the every day, God leads us to a field:
• Don’t get lost looking for the Kingdom of Heaven too high up and too far away.
• Keep cracking open the ancient book looking to the Spirit to guide you to truth that is anything but ancient.
• Keep gathering in prayer circles and at sick beds and bow your heads and say your prayers.
• Keep reaching out to the isolated and anoint them with your time.
• Together we keep splashing in the waters of baptism and eating the bread and drinking the cup. ^[v]

 

In 2 weeks, it will be 53 years since Apollo 11 took Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Mike Collins to the moon. It remains “one giant leap for humankind.” The Apollo crew found out that God is not too high up, nor too far away.

You may not know, because it was kept a secret, that Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong celebrated communion on the moon. It was as a part of their faith and vocation.

Buzz Aldrin, a ruling elder at the Webster Presbyterian Church in Webster, Texas near Houston, said,

We wanted to express that … this mission transcended electronics and computers and rockets…so I wondered if it might be possible to take communion on the moon, that as we reached out into the universe, we trust that we are doing God’s eternal plan for [hu]man[kind].” [vi]

It was a Presbyterian question he said: “Was it theologically correct, [was it decent and orderly] for a layperson to serve communion in space?”

I am not kidding. And to make sure, Aldrin and his pastor contacted the General Assembly and got back a quick reply that it was a “go” and Aldrin took a tiny, wrapped package of bread, wine, and a small chalice.

When he and Armstrong had landed on the moon, Aldrin said “Houston, this is Eagle. I would like to request a few moments of silence and invite each person listening in, wherever and whoever they may be, to contemplate for a moment the events of the past few hours and to give thanks in their own individual way.”

At the same time, his church in Webster, Texas was celebrating communion, inside the lunar module, Buzz Aldrin took the elements from his flight pack. He poured the wine into a small chalice, and in the one-sixth gravity of the moon, the wine curled slowly and gracefully up the side of the cup.

This is the body of Christ. This is the cup of salvation.         They prayed, they ate, they drank, and they gave thanks. [vii]

You see:

God is never too high up. Never too far away.

God is here.

 

ENDNOTES

[i] Matthew 13:44-48, 53 (NRSV): ‘The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. ‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; on finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. ‘Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and caught fish of every kind; when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down, and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad.

When Jesus had finished these parables, he left that place.

[ii] Inherit the Wind, by Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee; debuted at Broadway’s National Theatre, New York City, April 21, 1955.

[iii]  William L. Dols.

[iv]  William L. Dols.

[v] Scott Hoezee. “The Lectionary Gospel, Year A, Matthew 13” from the Center for Excellence in Preaching, Calvin Theological Seminary, Grand Rapids, Michigan, calvinseminary.edu.

[vi] Buzz Aldrin. “Communion in Space: An Astronaut Tells of a Little-Known but Significant Event on the Moon.” Guideposts Magazine, October 1970. As found in an article by Yasmine Hafiz, “The Moon Communion of Buzz Aldrin that NASA Didn’t Want To Broadcast.” The Huffington Post; Huffingtonpost.com; July, 19, 2014.

[vii] Buzz Aldrin.

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Romans 6:1-11
Andrew Scales
June 26, 2022
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It was 2012, the end of my first year in ministry at Davidson College Presbyterian Church in North Carolina, and I was about to celebrate my very first baptism with Anna and her parents. Anna must have been about eight, nine months old, and I did everything that Princeton Theological Seminary and Michael Brothers trained me to do in preparation. I met with the parents and the baby at my office a week in advance and practiced holding her. On Sunday morning, the family and friends came early, and Anna was cool as a cucumber. I said all the right prayers that had been written out in a little black binder. As I moved smoothly through the liturgy, Baby Anna was resting peacefully in front of that whole congregation in her mother’s arms.

Then we got to the point where mom had to pass Anna to me so I could place the water on her head. Mom gently placed Anna in my arms, Anna looked right into my eyes with what seemed to be a moment of recognition. Then her little face twisted into an expression of abject terror, and she started screaming. There was no going back: we’re talking a five-alarm, red-faced wail, her face turning back and forth like an oscillating fan.

There was a terrible moment of silence except for her cries, and suddenly everybody in the sanctuary burst out laughing. And to make matters worse, we had this tradition at DCPC where the pastor walked the newly baptized up and down their looooong sanctuary so that everyone could see this child of God. And the organist struck up the hymn, “Child of blessing, child of promise, baptized with the Spirit’s sign…” and people were roaring with laughter. Big, Southern, beet-red guffaws.

A retired professor in his eighties, always a distinguished older gentleman in a linen suit and bowtie, slapped his knee as he leaned over into the aisle, pointing at me and shouting, “Oooooh-weeeee! She really got you, An-drew!”

I think there was more going on there than just the twenty-five-year-old pastor got embarrassed. Amid the uproar of chuckles was a warmth of recognition of their fellow Christian: “Welcome to the Church, baby, this is what it feels like sometimes.” Those church folks knew that the big scene at the font touched on something true about the Christian life: sometimes we’re dragged kicking and screaming into God’s promises.

Yes, baptism can sometimes be a loud reminder that when Jesus says, “Follow me,” a big and unexpected part of living into God’s promises is that we will change. Some parts of us will begin to die and go away, even as something new will begin to come to life in the power of the Holy Spirit. Those growing pains in faith are real, and sometimes we try to pretend it’s not happening, or squeeze back into a shell we’ve grown out of, or drag our feet all the way to the promised land. But it’s good news when we grow and change, when we expand our understanding of how complex God’s world is, when we recognize the ambiguity and mystery of what it means to love God and our neighbor.

This Sunday, we’re closing out a few weeks of looking at Paul’s letter to the Romans. In particular, we’ve looked at chapters 5 and 6, in which Paul makes plain what he understands to be the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ. Paul explains to Christians in Rome that everyone is alienated from God because of sin. Everybody has sinned—we’ve hurt one another and ourselves through our actions—everyone is alienated from God in this way.  Sin exerts a kind of power or dominion over the whole world that leads to death. But Jesus, both a human being and God, reconciled us to God through his ministry of compassion and justice, through the death that he died on a cross, and through his resurrection on Easter morning. In life and in death, we belong to God through what Jesus has done for us.

Paul is offering a theological interpretation of the earliest proclamation of the Church: Christ is risen! And the early church has always stressed that it is a bodily resurrection. Christ’s body has been raised from the dead. God doesn’t think of bodies as shameful or disposable or insignificant. In Jesus, we see God’s profound solidarity with embodied human beings, especially God’s care about the bodies, the lives, and the stories of people whom this world’s powers and authorities say do not matter. Paul’s reflection on baptism—our bodies and lives belong to God—is a radical religious and political statement. Christians declare in baptism that they are joining Jesus in dying to the sinful ways of this world, and that they hope God will raise them into promises of human flourishing that are beyond our capacity to imagine.

Paul’s astonishing claim that God will raise our bodies with the risen Jesus could not be possible without the witness of the women who gathered at the empty tomb on Easter morning. The four Gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—agree in their accounts that the first disciples who encountered the empty tomb on Easter morning were women. They had stood by the cross when Jesus died on Good Friday. They saw the horrors of a justice system that did not treat people like Jesus as fully human.

When they saw the empty tomb on Easter morning and ran to the other disciples shouting “Christ is risen!”, they were saying that God had really raised Jesus’ body from the dead. The risen body of Jesus is God’s blunt repudiation of all the coercive, violent attempts that the Roman authorities made at the cross to control his body and his ministry of radical inclusion. Their testimony was about the beautiful things God can do in and through human bodies. Through Jesus’ body. Through our bodies.

I can’t think of a time in the Gospels when Jesus says someone’s bodily needs don’t matter. He was revolutionary in saying that people—especially poor and excluded people—deserved to be treated with dignity. Jesus could see that their needs and hopes and wants are a part of their humanity, part of the goodness that God sees in them. Jesus was always talking about people’s bodies and their needs: their need for healing, their need for food and water, their need for clothing, their need to belong to a community, their need for love and acceptance, their need to embrace. Belonging to the body of Christ is an invitation to bring our whole selves to God.

Jesus’ unending, compassionate concern about people’s bodily needs has been on my mind since I learned on Friday that the Supreme Court struck down Roe vs. Wade, effectively ending federal protections for abortion and other reproductive rights. This news matters to so many women, trans persons and genderqueer siblings who are able to carry a pregnancy. In Princeton Presbyterians, where Len and I serve as Chaplains, we often tell our students a saying from Mister Rogers and his mentor, the child psychologist Margaret McFarland: “If it’s mentionable, it’s manageable.” It matters that we talk about it as people of faith. Loving our neighbors means that we have a responsibility to deepen our understanding about reproductive healthcare.

For some of us, this is a big change, a dramatic expansion of how we’ve understood what it looks like to live out our faith in the risen Jesus. Maybe this calling is new and scary to you, too, and I can sympathize. I grew up listening to Focus on the Family every day on the ride to school. There was a long season in my life as a young evangelical when I prayed earnestly for this day to come. And I can say that experiences from ten years of ministry have transformed my perspective. Being a pastor has included holding hands with young people in an emergency room after their friend was assaulted and needed emergency contraception, as well as hearing women’s stories of serious pregnancy risks and terminations. And every time a woman has disclosed to me that she has had an abortion, it has been a holy experience of vulnerability and risk.

Listening to women and queer siblings of faith share their stories about abortion deepens the respect I have for them. It’s taught me that each pregnancy is unique and happens in a unique body, with health issues and life circumstances that are beyond our ability to judge or fully comprehend as a neighbor. The role we have to play in these stories as members of Jesus’ body—in the event we have any role to play at all—is a calling to offer all the compassion and trust in their God-given ability for discernment that these matters deserve.

I believe that we honor the courage of the women at the empty tomb of Jesus when we say that reproductive rights are human rights. Our witness to the Gospel in this season means speaking out against policies that harm our loved ones. This change will be a matter of life and death for many women and queer siblings.

Denial of access to abortion, contraception, and other reproductive health services will exacerbate a severe health crisis related to rising mortality rates for childbirth.[1] It will contribute to severe consequences for access to education, the persistence of systemic poverty in America, and mental health crises for anyone bearing a forced pregnancy.[2] It means recognizing that what has been banned has far-reaching consequences in many states, potentially including the prohibition of life-saving procedures when a mother’s life is in danger. It is a political erasure of what it means to be a woman or a queer person who has control over their bodies, bodies that God has declared have inherent dignity and worth.

The Supreme Court’s decision to remove federal protections for reproductive rights will not end abortion in America. Research from the Guttmacher Institute in 2020 demonstrates that restrictions on legal abortions lead to an increase in ending pregnancies by abortion clandestinely.[3]  This is about an extreme ideology’s assertion of control over people’s autonomy, foreclosing their ability to make critical decisions regarding their bodies and their lives.

You may be thinking this is too political, what does it have to do with how we should live our faith? I’m talking about this news because I love the students and young adults we serve. I am committed to their flourishing.

As a minister of the Gospel, I am trying to speak from my experience with young people to raise the warning that we are in a crisis. That their health is at risk. That their emotional, mental, and spiritual welfare is in danger because this decision forecloses their ability in many states to decide for themselves what a full and meaningful life looks like. I want them to know—as they grow in their faith and understanding—that the God who made them cares about their bodies and the decisions they make to care for themselves.

Bearing witness to the Risen Jesus today involves growing in our capacity for imagination about what it looks like for our friends, our loved ones, our neighbors to fully flourish in the bodies God has given them. Joining Jesus in his resurrection means rejecting decisions by the powerful that disregard the physical safety, humanity, agency, and dignity of fellow human beings. Asserting that access to reproductive health is a human right is a part of the redemptive vision God calls us to work toward in confronting poverty, misogyny, racism, and educational inequality in our country. I am choosing to hope amid despair, because the college students and young adults I know and work with are courageous and creative people of faith. We can love them well by listening to them, and then by doing all that we can in the name of Jesus to help them flourish in body, mind, and soul. Amen.

[1] Linda Goler Blount, “Op-Ed: The End of Roe Will Be a Death Sentence for Many Black Women,” The Los Angeles Times, accessed June 25, 2022. https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2022-06-24/black-women-abortion-roe-v-wade-maternal-mortality

[2] Planned Parenthood, “Medical and Social Health Benefits Since Abortion Was Made Legal in the U.S.”

https://www.plannedparenthood.org/uploads/filer_public/eb/38/eb38bdf9-7ebb-4067-8758-13d28afa1d51/pp_med_soc_benefits_abortion_final_1.pdf accessed June 25, 2022

[3] The Guttmacher Institute, “The percentage of unintended pregnancies ending in abortion has increased in countries where abortion is restricted,” accessed June 25, 2022.  https://www.guttmacher.org/infographic/2020/percentage-unintended-pregnancies-ending-abortion-has-increased-countries-where

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Romans 5:12-21
David A. Davis
June 19, 2022
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A few weeks ago, I sat in McCarter Theater listening to the jazz singer Gregory Porter and the incredible musicians that surround him. We were sitting in the balcony to the left of the stage and it felt like we had a better view to watch how the musicians communicate with each other. There are those moments in a jazz concert when a singer walks away from the microphone and just lets the instrumentalists take over. Then one by one they take turns with the improvisation as the others keep the piece moving. It is intriguing to watch how they communicate with one another in those moments of handing off the solo baton. Maybe some just intuitively count bars in the cord progressions and transition from one solo to another that way. Sometimes they make eye contact with one another. Other times amid a long complex riff that seems to stray far from any semblance of the melody, the musician comes back to a phrase or just a few notes that sound familiar. It signals the return to the melody which serves as the invitation for the next in line to take off. I was sitting with a few gifted musicians that night in the theater and it wasn’t lost on me that they were watching as intently as they were listening.

The last half of the fifth chapter of the book of Romans is a long complex riff on the theological melody of justification by faith, reconciliation, and abundant grace. The genre is not improvisation but rather rhetorical argument. It has the kind of density to it that notetaking might be recommended. Unlike some of the Apostle Paul’s soaring rhetoric elsewhere in Romans and elsewhere: “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in call creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8) and “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection of the dead” (Philippians) The second half of Romans 5 flows more like an equation or a proof in algebra. Yet, like a jazz riff, there are these few notes Paul keeps coming back to. A few notes that don’t just sound familiar, they come from the melody of Paul’s entire New Testament corpus. But you have to have the ears to hear and the eyes to see it buried in the argument.

What ought to leap of the page or echo in your ear is the term “free gift’. “But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died through the one man’s trespass, much more surely have the grace of God and the free gift in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ abounded for the many.” Free gift! Free gift! “And the free gift is not like the effect of the one man’s sin. For the judgement following one trespass brought condemnation, but free gift following many trespasses brings justification.” Free gift! Free gift! “Much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness exercise dominion in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.” Free gift.

Over and over again in the heart of Paul’s argument. Free gift, yadayada, free gift, yadayayad, free gift, yadayada, free gift, yadadyada, free gift. The abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness. Not our righteousness, of course, but his. The abundance of the grace of Christ and the free gift of his righteousness. Free gift. It is not only familiar, it brings to mind some some other tunes in Paul. “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God”. (Ephesians 2) “they long for you and pray for you because of the surpassing grace of God that God has given you. Thanks be to God for God’s indescribable gift.” (II Cor. 9) “There is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by God’s grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 3) “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6) Free gift!

A long time ago I hosted a fall small group in our home. It was quite a mixed up group of long time Nassau members, relatively new folks, some retired clergy, probably a seminarian in the mix too. I remember after several weeks, I opened one of our evenings together with a question along the lines of “what about being Presbyterian was meaningful or important to your faith?” The first response that night was an immediate one. and it didn’t come from the clergy or the seminarian. “For me, it is just so much about grace,” the person said, “God’s grace. Saved by grace.” Others started to join in.  “It’s such a gift; the life of faith; it is about gift implementation.” “I can’t earn it, I don’t deserve it, I can’t control it.” “Not your own doing, not your own doing, not your own doing.” “The immeasurable riches of God’s grace, grace beyond description.” “God’s love and me, even me, just me.” Saved by grace. The whole conversation in the living room was an improvisation on saved by grace and the free gift.

The Apostle Paul certainly hits on it often in just a few verses. Free gift. In and of itself it sounds redundant. If a gift were not free it really wouldn’t be a gift. In the Greek text the free part is implied in the one word itself. Charisma: a gift freely and graciously given. Translators must add free for emphasis. The gift being free ought to be readily apparent, obvious and come with plain, common sense. Like a sign in an aquarium that reads “No swimming in the shark tank” Apparent. Obvious. Plain. Common Sense. That sign is there for one particular reason: someone at some point took a dip in the shark tank. So perhaps the translators go for emphasis with “free” and “gift” because the scholars, the theologians, the preachers, the listeners, the church, the followers of Jesus, we all know how hard it really is to accept, live by, and proclaim, the gift of God’s abundance of grace and the gift of the righteousness of Jesus Christ.

A few months before the pandemic began, the Session of Nassau Church approved a new vision statement. One of the phrases from that statement that you often hear from a worship leader is that here at Nassau we “welcome the breadth of humanity and the challenge of the gospel”. I imagine most often, we think of the challenge of the gospel as the discipline of the life of discipleship or the teachings of Jesus that are most challenging to how we live our life and the opinions we hold or the constant call to work for justice and love your neighbor and show mercy.  But I wonder if here in this historic university town of Princeton, New Jersey, where the heights of achievement are etched in stone, where success in our communities is expected and clearly defined, where our identity is shaped and influenced by pretty much everything other than being a child of God, here in these pews at Nassau Church, the biggest challenge of the gospel might be this…..by grace you have been saved. Free gift! The challenge of the gospel is the truth that there is absolutely nothing you can do, by grace you have been saved… nothing you can learn, by grace you have been saved… nothing you can earn, by grace you have been saved… nothing you can fix, by grace you have been saved…. nothing you can control, by grace you have been saved… nothing you can do. Free gift!

Surrendering, receiving, saying yes to God’s grace….it is much less like a college application where you try to write the perfect essay and much more like an infant who can do nothing but cry out. Much less like an exhortation to pull yourself by the bootstraps and work hard and seize an opportunity, and much more like being stranded in an airport realizing no phone call, no elite status, no amount of sweet talk or belligerence is going to get you home. Much less like some kind of mandate of privilege or rights guaranteed, and much more like finding yourself in a crowd of nameless folks just like you taking one day at a time powerless before the forces that be. Surrendering, receiving God’s grace. It is contrary to everything, absolutely everything we have been taught. Because it really is a free gift.

A friend and colleague Neal Plantinga recently published a collection of morning and evening prayers. I finish this morning with one of his evening prayers:

Refuge of all who suffer, we look for shelter in the shadow of your wings. Rain and hail and wind beat on your wings, but they do not fold. They are spread out like Jesus’ arms on the cross, spread out to protect all who seek shelter beneath them. …. O God, wonderous in love for sinners, we give you thanks for your saving grace. You do not hold against us our treachery and neglect but let them drop. You do not hold against us our conceit and indifference but let them go. We have been saved by grace through faith—all this is your gift. Surely there is none like you, O God. Spread your protective wings over us we sleep. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

 Yes, the gift really is free.

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Romans 5:6-11
David A. Davis
June 12, 2022
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The date on the deed is 1798. It is a deed to the pew numbered 16. Pew number 16 was one of the pews in the first sanctuary built on this site in what was legally referred to then, as the Congregation of Princeton in the Counties of Somerset and Middlesex. The cornerstone for the church was laid in 1762. Though worship began on this site in 1764, worship in the sanctuary of First Presbyterian Church most likely began in 1766. Pew number 16 was one of 57. Twenty-three of them were squares that followed the outline of the wall all around. There were three aisles running in one direction, two in another. The pulpit stood on the side of the room and in 1792 John Witherspoon had a canopy built over it and draped it in dark colored festoons.

Pew 16 was purchased by “David Johnson and Peter Updike and their wives and issue forever”.  Peter Updike was an ordained elder in the congregation of First Presbyterian Church. The reproduction of the deed hangs on the wall in my office. It was given to me by Bill Harris, then the archivist at Princeton Seminary, when I became pastor of Nassau Church. A note included on the deed states that Peter Updike was the great-great-great-great grandfather of John Updike, the novelist, poet, short story writer, and literary critic. John Updike’s grandfather was the Rev. Hartley T. Updike, Princeton Class of 1883, Princeton Seminary class of 1886. (John Updike went to a college in Cambridge MA) The cost of pew number 16, the Updike/Johnson pew, was seven pounds, ten shillings.

John Updike died in January of 2009. Obituaries, essays, and articles about him were published everywhere. An essay honoring him in The New York Magazine was titled “Remembering the Permanent Present Tense of John Updike”. The author alluded to the many intended meanings of the phrase “permanent present tense”. Updike was known to have the discipline of writing two to three pages every day. His content across multiple genres provided constant observations of the day to day. He was also known for always writing in the present tense. Among literary critics and teachers of creative writing at the highest levels, writing in the present tense can be quite the cause of disagreement and conversation.

I once listened to a repeat broadcast of a Terry Gross interview with John Updike on NPR. He talked about his decision long ago to write in the present. As someone who sort of makes a living with words, I was struck by what he said and have remember it. He described it as a challenge and rather time consuming, but an essential part of the creative process; getting in the right frame of mind to write in the present tense. He said maybe the toughest part of writing is learning to write in and stick to the present tense. Over and over again he had to work himself into the present tense. “There is so much less baggage” Updike said, “when you write in the present tense.” John Updike on the importance of the present tense.

In the fifth chapter of his Epistle to the Romans, the Apostle Paul makes a turn to the present tense; it’s not just a creative turn. It’s a theological turn.  The first part of Romans is a rather complex argument and exposition about the work of Christ and justification by faith and the righteousness of God and the example of Abraham in the Old Testament and the relationship of law and faith. Paul’s whole discussion is centered on, focused around, built upon the event of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Right at the beginning of the fifth chapter that we read last Sunday,  with a strategic “therefore” that maybe should be printed in capital letters, Paul turns his attention toward those of us who “believe in the One who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.” “Therefore, since we are justified by faith” Paul writes as he steps toward the present tense. God’s love poured in. The Holy Spirit given. Suffering. Endurance. Character. Hope. The peace of God. The grace in which we stand. Our hope of sharing the glory of God. All of it in the present, in the here and now. Here in the text read this morning, Paul continues in the present tense: “God proves God’s love for us…We even boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” God proves. We boast.

Paul and his remarkable turn to the present tense. Yes, it is more than a creative turn. It is a theological one. It is not about parsing verb tense. It is about trying to grasp the saving grace of Christ, the once and for all-ness of his death and resurrection and the ever present-ness of our weakness and sinfulness. While we were still weak. While we were still sinners. While you and I are yet sinners, God proves God’s love for us. God proves; We boast. The Apostle Paul on how God’s plan of salvation putting a pin on the map of the history of God’s people at the hill of Calvary while at the same time hitting the reset button on grace, forgiveness, and new life in Christ every day.

It’s like watching sunrise over the ocean more times than you can count and knowing the one you watch today is the most beautiful you have ever seen. Like looking into the face of your life-long love and seeing that face just as it was the day you first met. Several weeks ago in worship Trevor Thornton played Clair De Lune by Debussy. I used to listen to my father play part of that piece by ear when I was young. When I started taking piano lessons in junior high school, it was one of the first pieces I learned. Of course I learned it in a easy book with really big notes (and not very many of them). It is my favorite piano piece to play and to hear. And that Sunday a few weeks ago, as I told Trevor, it was the most stunning Clair De Lune I had heard. It was a beauty I was beholding as if for the very first time. Life long and yet incredible in the present tense.

A long time ago a pastor friend gave me some advice I still follow. I keep thank you notes and letters and some printed emails of encouragement and affirmation that I receive in a stack on top of the table right behind my desk in my office. Sometimes the collection goes two or three years there in a growing pile before I file them some other way. Letters and notes of criticism or complaint get filed away in a desk drawer whether or not a response is warranted so I don’t have to read them over and over again.  I pretty much look at the positive pile every day. One year the pile included this note I received by email:

 Hi Pastor Dave

I just wanted to take a quick second to thank you for helping me establish a foundation for my faith all these years.

Though my walk with God has been turbulent at times, God surprises me every day in new and enlightening ways.

I still have the stone the church gave out after a service, probably when I was 8 or 9, and I usually carry it everywhere I go. 

I came across it doing laundry today and I thought you might like to know.

God surprises me every day in new and enlightening ways. A journey of faith and the present tense.

God proves. We boast. We boast in God. Early this week, Cathy and I stopped for lunch in the town a few miles from our cabin in PA. The town has the one and only stoplight in all of Sullivan County, PA. As we stepped out of the car, there was a street preacher on the corner at that light shouting into a microphone with a speaker strapped to the top of car that was pretty much covered with bumper stickers of scripture. As he was railing about Jesus and people, the town, and the country going to hell, he called out to people directly. An unfortunate listener on the sidewalk who couldn’t walk fast enough. A guy in a pickup truck just waiting for the light to change. Let’s just say the preacher wasn’t very nice. I don’t think that is what it means to boast in God.

We boast in God. Exult in God. Glory in God. Boasting in God is not about the one who brags the most, talks about Jesus all the time, or quotes scripture the most. Its not about being an evangelist or even telling someone about all that God has done for you. Boasting in God is the experiencing that love God has for you; a love in Jesus Christ that stretches from the cross and the empty tomb and fills your heart afresh each day. Boasting in God is being stopped in your tracks or getting a lump in your throat or having your breath taken away by the grace and forgiveness of God you have known as long as you can remember that touches you again as if for the very first time. Boasting in God is God giving you a strength you didn’t think you had, a peace you never thought you would find, a comfort that once seemed impossible, a purpose that makes a difference. Boasting in God. It comes in those moments when you know yourself to be living faith in the present tense. In the present tense with bold print.

Mark Edwards, our director of Youth Ministry here at Nassau Church just published a book titled Christ is Time: the gospel according to Karl Barth and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Near the end of the book, Mark gives what I think is a powerful description of boasting in God (thought he doesn’t use those words). Mark would want me to quote Barth but I am going to quote Mark. “When Christ is encountered, when one’s life is given over to Him as Lord, when one repents of trying to be the Ubermensch at the center of history, when one sets aside one’s own master plan and simply follows the Rabbi down uncharted roads, then one begins to understand that this life, our lives, her life, and indeed my today is gift of the crucified and resurrected Lord of Time who is Jesus of Nazareth…In face of this wondrous tapestry, metaphysical deliberations fall away and worship, gratitude, and awe can be the only proper response.” That’s Mark Edwards on boasting in God.

The present tense of faith. God proves God’s love for us. You and I, we get to boast in God.

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Romans 5:1-5
David A. Davis
June 5, 2022
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“Hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”  The gift of the Holy Spirit. Pentecost Sunday. Giving thanks to God for the gift of the Holy Spirit, hearts filled with God’s love and our hope of sharing God’s glory.  “Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.” Sharing not just goods and possessions but sharing the glory of God. Our hope of sharing the glory of God! Sharing God’s glory; whatever that means. Do we divvy it up like slices of pizza so everyone gets a little? You get some glory. You get some glory. You get some glory. Do we invited everyone to join in the sharing; like jumping into the pool on a hot day. God’s glory! Come on in! Do we each take turns with it like all the players on the hockey team that wins the Stanley Cup. They each spend time with the cup. God’s glory. Your turn!

“We boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.” Whatever that means. In the Greek New Testament there is no word here in Romans 5 and verse 2 that remotely refers to sharing. There is no verb after “boast”. A closer translation would be “we boast in the hope of God’s glory”. No “sharing”. We hope in God’s glory. Strike “sharing”. The addition of “sharing” comes only with modern translators who, perhaps, are trying to bring some clarity to what it means to “hope in God’s glory”. But God’s glory isn’t dependent upon our ability to share it. God’s glory can’t be defined by how much we boast about it or how we exult in it. The magnitude of God’s glory made known to us in and through Jesus Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit is, of course, beyond us. God’s glory so not dependent upon our sharing time. God’s grace, God’s mercy. God’s presence, God’s love. So beyond us. This reconciling, forgiving, new life-giving work of Christ, this glory of God, yes, it there for us and yet so much greater than us. So much more than our ability to talk about it, brag about it, choose it, testify to it, share it. The hope of God’s glory.

In the last week amid all the reports of horrific gun violence of all kinds and elected officials saying so much and doing so little, there was the story of someone smearing cake on Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa painting at the Louvre. The painting is covered in bullet proof glass so the attempt to mar the painting was in vain. A video is also posted of a museum employee standing at the painting in front of the throng of people wiping it clean. Wiping it as casually as a parent wiping icing hand prints off the refrigerator door. A nameless staff person whose job was to allow the beauty of the Mona Lisa to once again be seen.

“We boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.” The hope of God’s glory. Yes, it is a future and eternal hope that one day, together with all the saints, that great multitude that no one can number, one day you and I will rest forever in the glory of God. Yes, it is a here and now hope that in the power of the Holy Spirit you and I will bask in the glory of God’s grace, God’s mercy, God’s presence, God’s love, and the new life Christ offers. A glory that is drenched in beauty like God’s creation on Day 7, like a late spring morning with the sky so blue, the dew so fresh, the air so crisp. The hope of God’s glory. But we don’t live on Day 7. It’s not all good. The world doesn’t always allow God’s glory shine.

Moses had many conversations with God in the book of Exodus. At one point Moses says to God, “Show me your glory, I pray.” God told Moses that while he would be able to see God’s face, he should go over and stand on a rock and when God’s glory passes by. God would put Moses in the cleft of the rock, cover Moses with God’s hand, and when God takes away God’s hand, Moses would be able to see God’s back. God’s back parts. God’s backside. The backside of God’s glory. Interpreters are pretty clear about the connotations of what God’s back parts mean. But forms of the word also carry the connotation the aftermath. A backside that has a sense of timing. Behind. Afterwards. Coming after. Clearing all the dishes from the table on the backside of a dinner feast. Picking up all the toys in the room left in a child’s wake when bedtime arrives. The backside of her day. There on the rock, what if what Moses can see, what if all that surrounds Moses, is the aftermath, the wake, the leftovers, the crumbs of God’s glory?

When my mother would visit us here in Princeton when our kids were still very young, she would often leave to go back to Pittsburgh when they were in school. So Grandma would always go to their room and leave a note with a few dollars taped to the desk, or she would leave a snack on the kitchen counter with a note. Always something from Grandma left behind. It was just for the kids, it was for Cathy and me too. One particular visit my mother had been cold the whole time. She blamed it on the timer on the thermostat that would drop several degrees while the rest of us where out during the day. At the end of her visit, I arrived home from my office, Grandma was gone, and there was a twenty dollar bill taped to the thermostat. The note read “Couldn’t stand it anymore” and the heat was bumped up. Early in the pandemic when we transformed our children’s bedrooms into grown up guest rooms, I found that Ben and Hannah had saved several of those notes from the backside of Grandma’s visit.

The hope of God’s glory. Yes, thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever and ever. But what if God’s glory leaves a mark in the here and now as well. You and I standing knee deep in the everyday promise and faithful and steadfast love of God. Looking for, pointing to, clinging to bits and pieces of divine glory that can’t help but be left when the Lord passes by. The wake of divine glory that flows like a river of justice, a stream of righteousness, The aftermath of glory scattered around, a bounty of God’s promise, nibbles from the feast of the divine banquet. You and I living each day in the hope of God’s glory.

“We boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.” Whatever that means. The Apostle has a take on what it means. “Suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given us.” I long ago stopped thinking of this verse from Paul as A + B + C = D with cause and effect etched into the rhetoric. For one thing, who can believe that every kind of suffering is somehow redeeming or good for you. Sometimes it is just suffering. I can no longer read the verse as if Paul was a motivational speaker. Or the point was something like my father shouting for all to hear after I was hit with a pitch in Little League; “Run it out”. The preacher in Hebrews might call us to run the race set before us with perseverance but I can’t read Romans like Paul is telling us to “run it out”

Suffering. Endurance. Character. Hope. Love. I now hear Paul offering a litany of life for after the seventh day of creation. A litany of life when all is not good. A litany of life that plays out far from the mountain tops, the soul nurturing warmth of worship on the Lord’s Day, or those moments when you have the joy, joy, joy, joy down in your heart. Paul and our hope in the glory of God. It is Paul claiming the promise that God’s grace, God’s mercy, God’s presence, God’s love, and the new life Christ offers is present and real in that litany of life too. It is not a pep talk. It is Paul’s take on sharing God’s glory. It is a call that together as the Body of Christ we hope, we yearn, we covenant  to discern together God’s presence, God’s glory in all of life. That we would help one another to look for the splendor of God on the ordinary days and cling to the promise of God’s presence on the darkest days and longest nights. Yes, our hope in God’s glory, even now, even today, even this season, because the Holy Spirit pours the love of God into our hearts.

That nameless museum staff member wiping away the attempt to veil the Mona Lisa, the nameless staff member who was also faceless since his back was to the crowd who all had their cameras up filming his act of restoration, that simple yet profound preservation of beauty, it’s not a bad image for the life of disciple, for the followers of Jesus, for you and for me. Heading out into the world everyday with anonymous, simple yet profound acts or wiping just a bit of the world’s grit and grime away to allow the beauty of God to shine.

Hoping in the glory of God because the Holy Spirit fills our hearts with the very love of God. Simple, yet profound. An act of love and the resplendence of the glory of God.

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Acts 16: 16-34 [i]
Lauren J. McFeaters
May 29, 2022
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It’s been a week to weep.

It’s been a week to wail.

It’s been a week to cry hot tears and sob with rage and fury.

Beside my bed is a copy of our Hymnal. When Noel Werner joined our staff 15 years ago, he taught the church to use the hymnal as a Devotional Book. I encourage you to do the same. And so this week, at home, in private, while shaken from the events of the last weeks and undone by another mass murder, I turned to my hymnal for guidance. I found hymns for my soul:

Be still my soul, when change and tears are past …

How can I keep from singing:  No storm can shake my inmost calm, when to the Rock I’m clinging …

 Swing low sweet chariot, coming for to carry them home …

Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, help me stand.

I am tired. I am weak. I am worn …

Paul and Silas are singing too. After witnessing the slaughter of innocents, and traveling to Philippi, they are punched, stripped, beaten, jailed, and having their feet locked in stocks, Paul and Silas do, what they know to do: they sing. They sing hymns to God. They sing in the night when they are naked, bleeding, barely able to move. It feels like they sing for us.

What did they sing? Songs of the heart? Songs of praise? Old chestnuts from the Hebrew cannon? New songs coming out of house churches?

When they had no hope for living even one more day, they sang.

So much happens in this passage. It’s epic for all its drama and theatricality. It’s as if the camera is working hard to capture each turn and que. It’s operatic in its intensity. Wagnerian and symphonic. Do you hear the themes and emotions?

Philippi as an epicenter of trade and affluence, completely controlled by the Roman Empire. It’s treacherous place to worship God. The streets are full of murmurs about Jerusalem, gossip about a Messiah who came alive after death; whispered rumors about a prayer meeting outside the gates, evidence that something’s afoot; danger’s ahead.

ACT 1:  Paul and Silas are followed by a girl. A slave girl. A girl without a name. She lives in captivity and her job is to make a lot of money for her masters. Money made from soothsaying and fortune-telling. She has her sights on Paul.

She begins following Paul and Silas; if they turn left, she turns left; if they go east, she goes east. And all the while she follows, she screams: “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.”

Some preachers working the crowds would be flattered by that line, and even encourage the girl to continue her wild form of mission advertising.

But it is implied, despite her glorifying words, that Paul looks deeply into her ravaged soul, recognizes a diseased spirit has overtaken her, and commands the force that has possessed her, to come out.

ACT 2: The spirit is gone, and the girl seemingly becomes healthy again. She can no longer foretell the future or read palms. But the slave owners lose out on revenues, so Paul and Silas are hauled to the magistrates, not claiming financial damages, but saying these Jews were teaching religious practices illegal for Romans. They want revenge.

ACT 3: Paul and Silas are stripped, flogged, and dragged, probably unconscious, from pain and blood loss, into a dungeon where their ankles are locked in stocks so there will be no possibility of movement. No hope for living even one more day.

And what do they do? What do they do with the last hours of their lives? They sing. They sing.

The cacophony of an opera becomes still, subdued, quiet. The violent and bloody spectacle becomes a sweet and holy song.

Like something from Taizé or Iona.

Sing:

“Goodness is stronger than evil;
Love is stronger than hate;”
Choir joins:

“the Light is stronger than darkness;
Life is stronger than death;
Vict’ry is ours, Vict’ry is ours, through him who loved us.” [ii]

Sung twice or more.

That’s what it’s like to be free. To be able to sing our faith, no matter our circumstance. That’s what it’s like to be free.

It’s so hard to sing from our prisons. ^[iii] For Paul and Silas, not even an earthquake could tamp down a song. Not even the dank of that jail cell could mute God’s Word. Not even a whiff of freedom could move Paul and Silas to flee.

The jailor can only fall before them in his shock and gratitude. A jailor’s heart is converted to Gospel Life. He and his household are baptized. They have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and belong to Christ Jesus forever and ever.

I see the devastated families of Texas 4^th graders and teachers. I see folks who went about their Saturday grocery shopping in Buffalo: 10 killed. Is there a song for them?

I see my beloved church members. You who wrestle with fear and grief, anxiety and panic, sorrow and regret. Is there a song for you?

I see that slave girl. A girl who has recovered her mind and soul, but lives with the consequences of her slave holders’ retaliation.

Is there a song for her?

And there’s a teenage boy. He’s 18 years old. He’s been enveloped in rage and vengeance. He couldn’t sing from his prison. He’s committed a massive atrocity of brutality and violence. Is there a song for him?

There is. There is.

 

ENDNOTES

[i] Scripture Lesson: The Acts of the Apostles 16: 16-34 (NRSV) One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, “These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you a way of salvation.” She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour. But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the authorities. When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, “These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.” The crowd joined in attacking them and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s chains were unfastened. When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul shouted in a loud voice, “Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.” The jailer called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas. Then he brought them outside and said, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” They answered, “Believe on the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.” They spoke the word of the Lord to him and to all who were in his house. At the same hour of the night he took them and washed their wounds; then he and his entire family were baptized without delay. He brought them up into the house and set food before them; and he and his entire household rejoiced that he had become a believer in God.

[ii]  Goodness Is Stronger Than Evil, from Glory to God #750. Text: © 1995 Desmond Tutu (admin. Idea Architects); Music: © John Bell, 1996 WGRG, Iona Community, Scotland.

[iii] Burt Burleson. The Truett Pulpit:  Acts 16: 16-34. baylor.edu, April 25, 2016.

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John 14:23-31
Mark Edwards
May 22, 2022
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Thursday night at Session, seventeen Confirmands were voted into the Church. Their “Histories with the Church” and “Statements of Faith” went thirty-three pages. And so today we are witness to three baptisms, their youth and hopefulness, and in a few moments, to their professions of faith.

Over the course of the past year, in addition to many Sunday mornings, full Sunday evening Fellowships, some Embodied Faith sessions with Annalise, and a few hikes to Wawa, we have gathered for four Saturday evening Confirmation retreats with Tyler, Annalise, Byron, and myself. Pizza at Nomad’s. A walk through Princeton.  Discussions on Romans 8’s “Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus,” on Mathew 6’s “Do not worry about tomorrow,” on Psalm 139’s “Lord, you have searched me and know me,” and on Colossians 1’s “He has rescued us from the power of darkness.”  Some candy from the Kiosk across the street. A few questions about growing up in the church and “Who do you say that he is?” Three awesome leaders. A lot of good friends who have grown up running these hallways. And me, who watches in amazement as some basic ingredients give freedom, purpose, safety, and hope to another batch of confirmands.  It is never routine, but there is, as Pastor Dave has said, a liturgy to it. A rhythm. And a lot of trust that God will do what God has promised to do. How, after all, do you cause faith to sprout? What can five hours on a Saturday night do to result in these?  [gesture to students] How do a few questions and Nutella pizzas turn into this? [wave Statements of Faith booklet]

The critics might call it social manipulation. The skeptics might call it cultural control. The dubious might call it unreal. The sociologists of successful youth ministry might call it a curious model warranting additional study.  I suppose it could be those things.  But as one who is leading it, I can tell you we are trying hard not to be those things. What is going on? Why is this working? Perhaps it has something to do with what we just read in John?

“But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I have said to you.”

Perhaps God is doing something? Perhaps the Holy Spirit is using this space, this place, our times, and a few bad rhymes to draw us into a mind of faith, a life of spiritual comfort, a body of Christ?

McKenzie, you chime in:

“My favorite thing about the church is how welcomed I feel. I love how whenever I attend our church or a church-related activity I feel welcomed and included by everyone. This makes me feel comfortable and like I belong in the church community.”

Wes, you concur:

“What Jesus taught about community is the reason that I want to join the church. I love the community of the church. I’ve always loved the community of groups of various activities, from sports teams, to just my closest friends from school, or especially the community from my old church. I want to be a part of this community for all the good times and good lessons it will bring.”

Adeline, you felt the same:

“Staying at home this past season was fantastic for a while, but zoom just doesn’t cut it. I found myself wanting to go to Church. I missed the faces, the small talk, the doughnuts. It’s because this stuff matters. It feeds you and sustains you.”

What might the advocate, the comforter, the Holy Spirit be reminding and teaching us? Perhaps it is that we need more than the world can give. We need community and fellowship that revolves and reforms around Christ. Indeed, Jesus tells us this in John:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

Chloe, if I may pull from some of the things you wrote:

“After Covid hit, restaurants closed, schools were online, and friends were distant. My life felt like it was missing a piece. Church. […] God was sending me mixed signals, he was telling me that you were missing something, that my life isn’t complete. Then things started to open back up, I got to see friends more often, eat at restaurants, and actually go to school. […] I want to join a church because it fills in the missing parts in my life, it helps me feel whole, it fills that empty void.”

Perhaps, much of the problem is that the world does not give. “The World takes” says our neighbor’s famous bridge.  Perhaps this is not only true of Trenton. Is not the world, often simply too much of a taker on our lives? It takes our hopes, our energies, our compassions, our time, our attentions, our anger, our families. It takes the lives of innocents shopping at Tops grocery in Buffalo, huddled under a steel factory in Mariupol, or in a  Fellowship hall at Geneva Presbyterian church where a Taiwanese congregation gathered to celebrate a pastor of 21 years.  The world takes. What are we left with? What remains to fill us up, give us peace, and calm our troubled waters?

Dominic, you say beautifully:

“I believe that Jesus is in a way, a form of God on earth helping guide us through life […] “Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always.” This helps me out knowing that God is there to help me through my hardships and lends me his strength to get through my seemingly never-ending ocean of my own mind.”

Because Jesus does give us guidance, direction, and comfort that the world cannot give, we have in Him a peace the world cannot give.  And yes, the church can give flying ice cream, some comfortable t-shirts, and even stale goldfish (an apparent favorite for a number of you), but if these things are going to give true life, lasting faith, and a deep spiritual hope, it is because Jesus is giving himself through them.

Ian, you realize this when you say:

“I walked down the hallway toward the offices and turned left into Niles chapel. The room has an almost magical way of muting the sound from everywhere else as soon as you cross the threshold and enter the room. That’s exactly what happened to me that day. […] I think this was the first time I ever felt God speak to me. […] I felt him there.”

This is God’s peace, Christ’s peace, that the world can’t give, and that we don’t control. Yes, this makes for a frustrating life sometimes.

Kelsey, you are honest about that frustration:

“I have prayed many times, whether that’s to ask for things like health and protection, to give thanks, or simply just to talk with God. […] I have not received the answers and responses I wish to receive from God. The lack of response began to bring questions like “Is God really watching over me?” and “Does God care about me?” to mind. […] these questions frustrated me. I know I wanted to believe in God, but is it something I can control?”

And Jenna, at the beginning of the year you wondered aloud:

“I guess I wish I was less skeptical about church. Obviously, I spent a good portion of my life in church, so what has it all been for? Have I gained anything?”

And then looking back you perceive:

“It was through scripture that I truly started to understand the power of love.”

And Kelsey looking back, you say:

“My confirmation journey has made me feel closer to God by memorizing certain passages or prayers, but over anything, it has made me closer to the family that surrounds me at Church.”

Pierre, in the face of frustrations of faith you ask straight out:

“[Faith] is believing in something that we can’t see, something that many others consider us crazy for believing. The question becomes: Are we crazy or are non-believers crazy? “

In response you write a Statement that would make Descartes and Thomas Aquinas proud:

“There is not nothing, there is something. Something needs to have logic to even exist. Nothing needs no logic.

I want to join the Church because I know that there is something in this world, that God and Jesus have created and preserved an amazing world for all of creation, something I want to participate and thrive in, something I want to help others participate and thrive in”

Elizabeth, you grew up thriving in the Newtown Presbyterian Church and are now here at Nassau. We are so happy to have you because, after all it is a dangerous world:

“Although I don’t know why God had us in that accident, I believe He did it for a reason. Maybe a reason we will later find out, or maybe one we will never know. No matter what, I believe that God has a plan for all of us and for everyone. […] I prayed […] God was there for all of us and He made sure we were safe.”

Matt, you also have had that experience:

“coming down a high hill [our] tires started slipping and our car started slipping, but we were able to swing back just enough to not fall in the ditch in front of us. God is always with us, even in stressful, dangerous times.”

Hear again the words of Jesus: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled.

Adele, you give voice to the troubles we’ve all been through:

“When things are too hard to understand, or the fate of your future starts to crush you, you look to someone or something to guide and ease your worries. Over the past couple of years, doubt and worry have often been present with me, so knowing that there is a being there to guide me, is a beautiful thing.”

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. And this has been given to us this year, as you recognize Cole:

“While I have been going through my confirmation retreats, I have realized how important faith is. Having faith to me is believing in God. I believe this because God will be there for us through thick and thin.”

Sometimes Cole it is just that straightforward. Sometimes, however, it is not. Caleb, like many of us,

“A good comparison for the development of my faith would be a river, it ebbs and flows, twists and turns, and sometimes even takes a step backward. But in the end, it always gets to where it is supposed to go. Nassau Presbyterian Church has been the current pushing me down my path, and for that, I am eternally grateful and look forward to taking the next step of coming into the community by becoming confirmed.”

Isaiah, you are jumping into this river because, as you say:

“I realized Jesus needed to be something I had to make my own thing and He was something I had to pursue by myself.”

And Adrianna, this brings us to you. It’s been a dynamic ride and I’m not sure there is another student who has thought as hard about what this all means as you. That is awesome. From NorthBay a bunch of years ago to today, you’ve been asking the hardest questions: Who’s in charge up there? Why did God create this world? Are people predestined? Does God make mistakes?

I think you’ve come to some answers and you’ve come to some community.  You’ve come to the peace that the world does not give, to the Word who is not ours to control, to the mystery that reveals a Trinitarian love, which as Isaiah says,  “It truly boggles the mind.”

And so Yes, to you Adrianna, and to the whole people of God, if it is the Holy Spirit comforting us, if God the Father has the plan, and if it is Jesus who is giving us redemption and salvation, even going away and then coming back again to show us the divine love, then God does not make mistakes. God makes believers. Saints. Faithful. Sisters and brothers of Christ. Inheritors of the kingdom. Community. Friends. God makes you all members of the body of Christ, which is the church.

And it God might be that God is doing something even more clever:

As I mentioned, the Confirmands’ “Histories with the Church” and “Statements of Faith” went thirty-three pages. The included some ongoing questions and unknowns.

In yours, Peter you wonder about the Bible:

“One smaller question I have is will anything ever be added to the Bible. Will there ever be another story added to it in this time era? Will there ever be another story or book added to the Bible in the future at all?”

Good question, Peter.

The Gospel of John closes with this: “But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

So, Peter, yes.  Absolutely. Pop these in your Bible. They belong. Staple ’em, glue ‘em, duct tape ‘em into to your Bibles. Even if there are some typos, these aren’t mistakes. They are the Gospel according to McKenzie, Wes, and Adeline; Chloe, Dominic, and Ian; Kelsey, Jenna, and Pierre; Elizabeth, Matt, and Adele; Cole, Caleb, Isaiah, Adrianna, and Peter.

These, like the rest of Scripture, are witnesses to the living Christ. Amen.

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