The Good Old Days

This sermon is on Exodus 17:1-7. Click here to read the scripture before reading the sermon.

The Good Old Days

“They don’t make things like they used to. “ It’s one of those phrases that you can hear my family say just about every time something breaks. “They just don’t make things like they used to.” There’s some truth in that phrase. Things today are often made with different materials and in a different process than they were 30 years ago. Things literally aren’t made like they used to be. But when we say that phrase, we’re not so much commenting on the construction of the particular item, it’s more an expression of frustration or disappointment that the item in question is no longer functioning properly.

That phrase carries with it an implied value judgment. Usually when we say, “they just don’t make things like they used to” what we really mean is, “they just don’t make things as well as they used to.” We mean that things aren’t made to last anymore, that they aren’t sturdy or durable. We imply that this new product is inferior to the old product, in part simply because it is new and different.

But sometimes older things really are made better than new ones. Take cars for instance. It used to be that cars were made out of sturdy metal, not plastic that broke or bent or crumpled at the slightest bump. And they were less complicated without so many electronic and computer parts. When something broke you could pop the hood, pull out the broken piece and put in a new piece. You didn’t have to take to a dealer or mechanic and have them hook it up to a computer just to figure out what was wrong with it. They just don’t make cars like that anymore.

But then again these same cars didn't have child safety locks, airbags, seatbelts, anti-lock brakes or many of the other safety features that modern cars have today. All things, old and new have advantages and disadvantages to them. Old cars were simpler, easier to maintain and fix yourself, but they had less safety features and burned way more gas than a typical car today.

Yet often when we think back to the way things used to be made or the way things used to be, we often don’t focus on the advancements that have been made or see things with clear objectivity. We remember things the way we want to remember them, often emphasizing the good and downplaying the negative. We can hear our tendency to do this in many of the phrases we say. We say “things just aren’t like they used to be,” “they just don’t make things like they used to,” “I remember when…,” or sometimes we even say, “back in the good old days…” Each phrase carries with it the implicit value judgment that things used to be easier, simpler, clearer or better and the phrase carries with it a sort of longing for days long past.

It’s a tendency we all have, so perhaps it shouldn’t be so surprising for us to hear the same sort of comments from the Israelites in today’s scripture reading. In this passage, we find the Israelites wandering through the wilderness and they camp at a place where there is no water. Immediately, they make their dissatisfaction known to Moses. Moses chastises the Israelites for their lack of trust in God and they respond by saying “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and our livestock die of thirst?” Those are awfully strong words. And it’s definitely not the first time that Israelites have complained about their journey through the wilderness. They complained before the Red Sea was parted, they complained afterwards that there was nothing to eat, and now they complain again about the lack of water.

Certainly, all of those things are needed. A way to escape the pursuing Egyptian Army was need, daily food is needed, water is needed, especially in a desert. Each time God provides for the Israelites needs but each time the Israelites complaint begins with, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt…” each of the complaints has an implicit or even overtly stated message that life in Egypt was better than life here in the wilderness. The Israelites even after having witnessed the amazing miracles of God over and over again in their midst have had enough of this wilderness life. They long for the good old days back in Egypt when they could eat as much as they wanted and they always had water. They long for the safety of their life in Egypt where they could rely on things being the same and they knew they could count on particular things.

But the Israelites seem to have forgotten that life in Egypt was slavery. It was full of hard grueling labor, with oppressive guards and taskmasters. The Israelites were treated as commodities not as people. And for years they cried out to God for deliverance and freedom. God heard and responded to their cries, acting to bring about the Israelite’s liberation and freedom. God even paints for them this incredible vision of what life outside of slavery looks like, a promised land flowing with milk and honey.

In spite of all that, the Israelites continue to say, Why did you bring us up out of Egypt? Despite their new freedom, the Israelites would rather be back in slavery. It seems that the Israelites are tired of this land in between. They’re tired of this state of flux, where they’ve been liberated from the oppressive rule of pharaoh but are not yet in the promised land. And in this land in between, it’s easier than ever to look back on their time in Egypt with rose colored glasses. It’s easier than ever to remember all the good things about the way things used to be and to minimize all the negative aspects of slavery. The Israelites seem to think that the known, even if it is slavery, is better than the unknown, better than living in the tension and discomfort of their current reality in this land in between.

The land in between, I think in many ways that’s a good description of life here at Calvary. We certainly live in the tension and discomfort of being a growing church and yet not having all the infrastructures in place to support that growth. Just like the Israelites, we have a vision of where we’re trying to go. We feel like God has called us to make a concerted effort to reach out to those in our community. We feel like God has called us to invite them to experience a life lived in community and in relationship with God. We know that we don’t get to put limits on how many people respond to God’s call to be in relationship, we don’t get to put limits on how many people come to be a part of the body of Christ, we know we don’t get to put limits on how many people can be a part of Calvary church. So we’ve sought to organize our time, energy, and effort around reaching out to those in our community. As a result of us following the call God has placed on us, we are a growing congregation!

We are a growing congregation and like all growing congregations, we at Calvary often experience growing pains. We experience the tension of living in this land in between, we experience life as a growing congregation whose building and parking lot and staff size hasn’t grown at the same rate. We have more ministries than we have space for, and even more ministries on the way. We are bursting at the seams in just about every direction imaginable. Such growth is a wonderful thing but bursting at the seams is often as uncomfortable as wear jeans two sizes too small!

Just like the Israelites we have a tendency to grumble about our discomfort. There are very few Sundays that go by that the staff here at Calvary doesn't hear comments about trouble finding a parking space, greeters not being in place, groups meeting in "my" room, or there being too many people here to get to know everyone. And just like the Israelite’s complaints, these are things that we need. We need parking, we need greeters, we need places for groups to meet, and we need to foster a sense of community and belonging here at Calvary.

As we experience these growing pains, the discomfort of this land in between, it’s easy for us to look back on years past and to long for simpler days. It’s easy to long for the “good old days” when we knew everyone by name, when parking was abundant, and meeting spaces were plentiful. In this land in between, it’s easy to forget that the whole reason we’re in this place is because God is leading us somewhere.

God is leading us into new places and new life. I’m not saying that the way things used to be was slavery and all bad. I’m not saying that at all. But I do think it’s clear that God is the one who is leading us into new territory. Just like today’s scripture passages tells us the Israelites traveled from place to place as the Lord commanded, we also are traveling from place to place as God leads us. God is the one who’s calling us to grow and stretch and reach out. God is the one who’s leading us. Often the path God leads us on is uncomfortable, it stretches us to grow and change, and it pushed us to rely on God to provide what we need. But as uncomfortable as the journey can be, staying where we were would be to deny the call God has placed on us.

God has led us here to this land in between, and just like God provided water for the Israelites in the desert, so too God will provide for our needs. It won’t always be comfortable and we won’t always have everything we want. We often have to make do with less than ideal situations as we continue to grow. But we are moving and growing and God won’t abandon us in this land in between. We can trust that the Lord is present with us even in the land in between. We can trust that the Lord is standing before us directing which way we should go and pointing out which rocks to strike to find water.

We are in the land in between. Discomfort is part of the reality of this place, and some grumblings are going to happen. God has led us to this place in between and even now God stands before us pointing the way. Even now God stands before us, leading us ever forward towards the Promised Land. The Lord is present even in this land in between!

Thanks be to God! Amen.

Change

Change. It seems to be the hot button political word these days. We hear both of the presidential candidates talking about change and how they, not the other party, can effectively bring about change. With the current situation of so many political issues right now, it's no wonder everyone is talking about the need for change.

The economy is having trouble in what seems like almost every area. The housing market keeps losing value, the stock market keeps going down, people are losing jobs, even though gas prices have come down in some areas in other areas gas is over $5 a gallon and some gas stations are running out of gas, banks even large well established banks are unstable. It's a concerning situation to watch. But the economy isn't the only area people are wanting to see change in. There's debate as to how we are going to meet the energy needs of the nation. Do we open up more areas to drilling? Do we invest in renewable energy? both? What do we do about the impact that our ravenous consumption of energy is having on the environment? Is the environment really being effected?

Change. It's what everyone is calling for. And yet we all have our own idea of what that change should look like. And just like there are things in our country that need to be changed, so too there are things in our religion that need to be changed. Yep. That's right. There are things in Christianity that need to be changed. Unless you think that we, the church, the body of flawed sinful broken and imperfect people, have somehow gotten it exactly the way God intended then we have things that need to change. So what would you change? If you could change the face of Christianity in America, what would you change?

I know what I would change. I'd want Christianity in America to be a lifestyle rather than a category. I'd change it so that people who called themselves Christians started to take that identity seriously, so that they made decisions based on their faith and what they thought God was calling them to do. I'd change Christianity so that people who called themselves Christian were passionate and convicted. I'd make it so that people who call themselves Christian are part of a community of faith actively trying to live into the standards that God sets for us. I'd change Christianity so that people realize to be an active Christian means we aren't trying to be an individual christian, but that we identify ourselves with a community, a community that we are willing to learn with and pray with, a community that we are willing to hold accountable, and that we're willing to be held accountable by, a community that we stretch and that stretches us, a community that encourages us and challenges us and loves us and cares for us.

I'd change Christianity so that the same few people, aren't the ones doing all the work. So that people would realize that with the identity Christian comes the commitment to give of ourselves, and no, not just our money. But that being Christian calls us to give of our time, to risk being in community and conversation with people, even when we don't always agree. So that people would realize that being Christian means doing what's best for the whole community, even if it's not what's best for me personally.

I guess, in short, I'd change Christianity in America so that we took seriously Jesus' command to Love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

But that's me, that's what I would change. And I'm sure alot of people would change alot of other things. So, what would you change? If you could change the face of Christianity in America, what would you change?

Forgiveness

This sermon was preached today on Matthew 18:21-35. To read the scripture click here.

Defining Moments

It’s hard to believe that this Thursday marked seven years since the September 11^th attacks. Seven years. It’s one of those events that forever changed the lives of countless people. Most people can remember where they were and what they were doing when they first heard the news. Our corporate life as Americans hasn’t been the same since, and for the hundreds of people who lost loved ones in the attacks, their personal lives will never be the same again.

Whether we like it or not, September 11, 2001 was a defining moment for us as a nation. On that day we went from being a nation that read about terrorism that happened “over there” to a nation that bears the scars of terrorism. We are now part of a country that uses the word terrorism as a common part of its political language. Many people have emergency packs in their basement, just in case something happens. And we all have to plan on being at the airport hours before our flight departs so we can get through the increased security.

In some ways it’s natural that September 11^th was such a defining moment for us. Traumatic moments in life often are defining moments for us. It’s often things like divorce or death of a loved one that drastically changes our self identity. It changes how we perceive the world around us and how we interact with people we come into contact with. But these defining moments don’t always have to be negative events. Sometimes they are really happy things, like the first time you fell in love or the day you first held your child in your arms, or the day you graduated.

Regardless of what they are, we all have defining moments in our lives. We all have moments in life that change how we perceive ourselves, and how we perceive the world around us. Those perceptions influence how we interact with people we come into contact with. Those moments will impact whether we choose to allow ourselves to care for others or shut others out. Those perceptions will affect how we react to conflict or difficult situations.

This past week as I thought about defining moments in life, I began to wonder, what were the defining moments in the life of the unforgiving servant in the parable Jesus tells? This servant owed the king ten thousand talents. That is a huge sum of money, in fact for the average day laborer, ten thousand talents was 150,000 years worth of wages. 150,000 years!

In the parable, the king calls the servant in and demands that the servant pay the king back. The servant isn’t able to pay and so the king orders the man, his wife, and his children thrown into prison and all of his stuff sold in order to pay off the debt. When the servant hears this, he drops to his knees and begs for patience from the king. The servant promises to pay everything back if he could just have a little more time.

A little more time? How does 150,000 years sound? After all that’s how long it would take a day laborer to earn enough wages to pay back ten thousand talents. The servant is stalling and the king has to know it. A little more time is not going to help the servant pay off the debt. But instead of dismissing the servant, and sending him and his family to jail, the king surprises us by letting the servant go. He not only lets the servant go free but the king also forgives the entire debt. The king forgives what amounts to billions of dollars in our day and age.

That’s a huge amount, and you would think someone who just went from the threat of their entire family being thrown into prison to having this impossible debt forgiven, would express a little gratitude or excitement. You’d think he would jump for joy or praise the king saying how wonderful and merciful the king is. Or maybe he’d celebrate with his wife and children their narrow escape from enslavement. But on the topic of the servant’s gratitude, the parable is glaringly silent. There is no mention of the servant’s relief or his gratitude for the king’s pardon.

Instead we’re told that the servant leaves and finds one of his fellow servants that owes him 100 denarii. A scene ensues that is remarkably similar to the previous one. The servant begs for more time to pay back the debt. Only this time, instead of just stalling, asking for time to pay back a completely unreasonable debt, this debt is one the servant would actually be able to pay back given more time. But the servant who has just been pardoned by the king, is unwilling to forgive the debt of his fellow servant.

Which leads me back to the original question, what were the defining moments in the life of this so called unforgiving servant? It would seem to me that if I had been dragged before the king, to pay back billions of dollars in debt, been sentence to imprisonment, along with my whole family, and then had the entire debt forgiven by the king and set free, I think that would be a defining moment! But it obviously isn’t a defining moment for this unforgiving servant. He shows no gratitude or joy that his debt has been forgiven.

What this servant receives but never comprehends is the king’s mercy. The servant doesn’t recognize himself as one who has been the beneficiary of mercy and forgiveness. What could have been an incredibly defining moment for the servant completely passes him by almost entirely unnoticed. Since the servant doesn’t see himself as someone who’s been forgiven, he is unable to see himself in the situation of the second servant. Consequently, the servant is unable to forgive the comparably small debt that is owed to him. The servant doesn’t recognize that he’s received mercy so he’s not able to pass that mercy on to the second servant.

I think many of us are the same way. We all know that we really ought to forgive. After all, the bible tells us over and over again that we should forgive. We know we should love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. We know that Jesus tells us it’s the merciful and peacemakers who are blessed, that we’re to turn the other cheek, and to go a second mile. If all that weren’t enough, the scripture passage for today tells us that we are to forgive others not just once or twice but 77 times or 77 times 7. Either way, that’s a lot.

But regardless of how much we intellectually recognize that we are called to forgive, and even that forgiveness helps to free us from the anger and hate that’s eating away at us, sometimes we find it near impossible to forgive. After all, how do you forgive the person who actions cut so deep? How do you forgive the person that hurt you so badly, that betrayed your trust and left you feeling manipulated? Sometimes we find it near impossible to forgive, regardless of how much we know we ought to forgive.

Part of the problem lies in how we think of forgiveness. We have a tendency to intellectualize forgiveness but forgiveness is much more than an intellectual endeavor. We don’t just decide to forgive someone. Instead our ability to forgive others comes primarily from God’s action towards us. We have all fallen short of the expectations God has for us. We have all, in big or small ways, wrong others in our midst. We have done things intentionally that hurt others, and we have all stood by unwilling to act to stop some of the wrongs that happened in our midst.

In spite of all of that, God offers us forgiveness and mercy. God pardons us for the debts we have racked up with others. Sometimes we refuse to accept that forgiveness. But I think more often than not, we act like the unforgiving servant. More often than not, we receive God’s mercy but never really grasp it. We receive God’s forgiveness without allowing it to be a defining moment for us. We receive God’s forgiveness but don’t allow that forgiveness to change how we perceive ourselves. We don’t allow God’s forgiveness to help us see ourselves as forgiven debtors.

Without the recognition that we are forgiven people, our forgiveness of others becomes a trial of wills. We try to rationalize forgiveness and we have this ongoing battle within ourselves. Part of us just wants to hold on to our hurt and our anger. We tell ourselves that we have a right to be angry, that we’re right and they’re wrong. We tell ourselves that the other person doesn’t deserve forgiveness. But part of us knows that we have been called to forgive and that we probably should get around to forgiving so we try to force ourselves to forgive the other person. We try to forgive by brute force of will. But that tactic fails to recognize that human forgiveness is rooted in divine forgiveness.

Our ability to forgive comes from God’s forgiveness of us. God has forgiven us, but until we allow God’s forgiveness of us to become a defining moment in our lives, until we come to recognize ourselves as forgiven debtors, we will have a hard time extending forgiveness to others. Once we recognize ourselves as forgiven debtors, we come to realize that we are all forgiven debtors, living among other debtors. After that it becomes easier for us to extend forgiveness to others.

Once God’s forgiveness of us becomes a defining moment in our lives, forgiveness becomes something that God works within us. We can’t force ourselves to forgive others. But when we find forgiveness particularly difficult we can begin by praying that God use us as a channel of God’s forgiveness, even if we cannot forgive on our own.

Often forgiveness of serious offenses takes years. It can take us years to really work through the pain and hurt of a wrong someone has committed towards us. But that process of forgiveness, regardless of how long it takes, begins with the recognition that we are forgiven by God.

As we pray the Lord’s prayer together later in the service, I invite you to consider what the defining moments have been in your life? Is God’s forgiveness of your sins among them? Have you come to recognize yourself as a forgiven debtor and have you sought to share that forgiveness with others?

Amen.

Defining Moments

Wow. It's hard to believe it's been seven years. Seven years to the day since planes crashed into the twin towers, the pentagon, and a field in PA. September 11, 2001 was a defining day for America as a country but also for many individual American's whose lives were forever changed by the events. Most people can tell you where they were when they first heard the news. But what I think is even more notable is the shift in mindset that occurred on that day.

We went from being a country that read about terrorism to a country that bears the scars of terrorism. No longer are we able to think of terrorism as something that happens "over there." Instead terrorism is a word that's thrown around a lot in our current political climate. We are more aware of terrorist threats and more and more families have emergency plans with kits stashed in their basements "just in case."

Often it is these really tramatic events that become defining moments in our lives. Sometimes it's a national terrorist attack, sometimes it's the death of a loved one, sometimes is a violent personal attack like a rape or mugging. Regardless of what the particular event is, these things leave their scars on us, and we are never the same again. It may be a loss of our sense of security, or a shift in our identity because a family member is no longer alive.

But sometimes these defining moments are really good things. Maybe you became the first person in your family to graduate from college. Maybe your defining moment was the first time you held your child in your arms. Maybe it was the day you said, "I do."

In truth, we all have many defining moments. Granted some of them are larger than others but in truth, it is often a combination of moments in life that lead to who we understand ourselves to be. As I think about it, the two most defining moments in my life, were the day Scott and I decided to get married, and the day I gave into the call God had placed on my life. Both of those things forever changed the course of my life. They both changed how I viewed myself, and the how I think about the world.

What were some of your defining moments?

Christianity without the Living Christ

I've recently picked up a devotional book that has quotes from Dietrich Bonhoeffer in it. Bonhoeffer was a pastor in the 1930s and 1940s before he was executed by the Nazis in 1945. He was one of the founders of the Confessing Church, an underground Christian movement in Germany during the Nazis regime. The Confessing Church sought to stay true to the biblical Christianity, rather than buy into the Christianity espoused by the Nazis rule. Bonhoeffer was a brilliant intellectual but also a passionate activist. It was his passion for Christ and his living out what he believed the church was called to be that ultimately led to his execution by the Nazis in 1945.

One of the quotes from Bonhoeffer's writings that's included in this devotional book I'm reading is: "Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ. It remains an abstract idea, a myth."

While I think the quote is catchy, I found myself wondering what exactly is Christianity with the Living Christ. I guess it's would be easier for me to understand what Christianity without the living Christ looks like if I first understood what was meant by Christianity with the Living Christ. I agree that true discipleship leads to a change in our lives, it's not merely an intellectual endeavor but rather it's about trust in God, despite the fact that we can never fully comprehend God, and living your life based on that trust. Certainly there is an aspect of studying and discerning what God would have us do. But without the concrete living out of our faith, it does remain an intellectual pursuit or as Bonhoeffer says "an abstract idea, a myth."

But that in and of itself does not answer the question, what is Christianity with the Living Christ? I can thinking of a few possible answers to this. Namely, that as the church we are called to be the body of Christ in the world. Not just to be a group of believers but a group that by the power of God is transformed into the presence of Christ in the world. Perhaps when Bonhoeffer talks about Christianity without the Living Christ, he means that the church as a whole has failed to be that Living body of Christ present in the world. That the church has become more conformed to the culture than the image of God, that it no longer speaks prophetically or holds society to account when it suppresses "the least of these."

There are other possible answers I could come up with but I'm more interested to hear what you think. What does living a Christian life "with the living Christ" mean to you? Maybe the question is better asked as, How do you experience the Living Christ in your life? Or do you? Do you feel a void, like Christianity, the church or your own spiritual journey is more a process of going through the motions than it is any real experience of God in your life? How have you experience "Christianity with the Living Christ"? How have you experienced "Christianity without the Living Christ"?