The Right and The Left

Debbie Cato

Isaiah 58:6-12 and Matthew 25:31-46  (The Message)

Normandy Park UCC

November 26, 2017

Lord, open our hearts and minds by the power of your Holy Spirit, that as the scriptures are read and your Word is proclaimed, we may hear with joy what you say to us this day.  Silence in us any voice but your own, that, hearing, we may be obedient to your will.  Help us to live always for your glory, through Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.   Amen.

The Right and The Left

This is a powerful passage. The story of the sheep and the goats.  Those sorted on the right and the left.  The Last Judgment as it’s titled.  It is especially important because in Matthew’s Gospel, it is the final story in Jesus’ public teaching ministry.  It makes sense that the last thing Jesus would say would be something that he would want us to remember; something important – something with eternal consequences. 

After this private teaching to his disciples, a lot happens very quickly.  They go on to Bethany, where Jesus is anointed with perfume.  He shares the Passover with His disciples. He is betrayed by Judas. Jesus is arrested, beaten and mocked.  He is crucified. Jesus dies hanging on a cross.  And then, three days later, Jesus rises from the tomb.  He is resurrected from the dead. 

And then, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus meets up with his eleven remaining disciples and hands them their life’s assignment.  Jesus says:  “Go out into the world & proclaim the good news of the Kingdom of Heaven.” 

And; if we call ourselves disciples of Christ, this is our life assignment as well: 

Go out into the world and proclaim the Kingdom of Heaven. 

I think this powerful passage that we read this morning is actually a reminder to us of what our life mission is and how Jesus feels about his followers taking the assignment seriously.  It is another picture of what the Kingdom of Heaven looks like.  And since this is the final teaching in Jesus’ public ministry, Matthew wants imprinted on our conscience, a question that we won’t easily forget.  Are we sheep?  Or are we goats?  In the end, will you be on the right or on the left?

This is not a new teaching Jesus saved for the end of his ministry!  Jesus gives us a glimpse of this new kingdom at the very beginning of his ministry when he stands in the synagogue in Nazareth, opens the scroll and says:

 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because God has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
God has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
    and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,

    to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

        “Today,[Jesus says,] this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Matthew’s thesis in his gospel is that Jesus is all about heralding in a new kingdom; the Kingdom of Heaven or the Kingdom of God.  A kingdom that is “upside down” from the world as we know it.  A kingdom full of good news for the poor.  A kingdom where the oppressed are freed, the blind are healed.  A kingdom where humility and service are valued.  A kingdom where there is a new kind of justice.  Where the weak are strong.  A Kingdom where the least are first.  A kingdom where physical, spiritual, emotional, & mental healing are the norm. 

This is radical stuff!  What we would call, liberal thinking today!  But it’s not just Jesus’ words that are radical.  Something about His person is distinctive. 

People swarm to hear him teach; to be near him; to just touch a corner of his clothing.  He radiates love and compassion!  He heals the sick; He touches the untouchables; He eats with sinners; He spends time with children; He talks with women.  Jesus feeds the hungry; He values the “worthless”.  Jesus hangs out with people that normally nobody wants to hang out with!  Ordinary, everyday people like you and me. 

When asked what the greatest commandment is, Jesus says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your mind ….. AND love your neighbor as yourself.”   You see, Jesus knows that we can’t really love God if we don’t love one another.  

Jesus doesn’t focus on the rules; on the letter of the law.  He cares more about the heart.  He teaches about love and justice and this “Kingdom of Heaven” thing.  In fact, Jesus’ teachings are so radical that he upsets the religious leaders.  Jesus turns the world upside down!

Jesus spends 3 years teaching his disciples and the thousands of people who cross his path, how to love and treat one another.  For 3 years, Jesus teaches what the Kingdom of Heaven is about – this upside-down place that will come about by loving one another in the same way that God loves us.  So, it really shouldn’t shock us that Jesus says that the final judgment will be about separating the sheep from the goats.   And now when He knows His ministry is coming to an end, He says:

 “When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son

of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all the nations will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and

goats, putting sheep to his right and goats to his left.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Enter, you who are blessed by God! Take what’s coming to you in this kingdom. It’s been ready for you since the world’s foundation. And here’s why:

I was hungry and you fed me,
I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,
I was homeless and you gave me a room,
I was shivering and you gave me clothes,
I was sick and you stopped to visit,
I was in prison and you came to me.’

Do you hear it?  Do you hear what Jesus is saying?  Have you loved the hungry?  Have you loved the stranger?  Have you cared for the poor?  You see, the Kingdom of God is the goal of history. It’s the goal here on earth! It is Christ’s goal, and so it must be the goal of every one of us who calls ourselves a follower of Christ.

White Lake, North Dakota is a small, sheltered community.  One Sunday morning late in November, members arriving for worship were met by a disturbing sight.  A homeless man sat on the front steps of their church, wearing tattered clothing, a wool cap pulled down over his eyes, clutching a bottle in finger-less gloves. They had never seen anyone like this in White Lake.  Not in White Lake.

Most worshipers simply walked around the man or carefully stepped over him, as he sat there shivering.  Some muttered words of disapproval, and others suggested that he move to another doorway before the Sunday school children arrived and saw him.  One member told the man in no uncertain terms, that the church was no place for someone like him.  At one point, a kind woman brought the man a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee, but not one person asked the man to come in out of the cold, and nobody invited him to join them in worship.

Imagine, then, the people’s surprise during the entrance hymn, when their homeless friend made his way into the church, staggered down the aisle, and made his way to the front pew.  Just as someone stood up to physically remove him, the man took off his dirty, old coat and cap.  It was then that the congregation recognized that this man was actually their pastor! 

The pastor stood in the pulpit and began his remarks that morning by saying, “I did not

do this to embarrass you or to poke you in the eye.  I did it to remind all of us that this

homeless man is a person that Jesus loves, and Jesus calls us to love him, too.”[1]

It’s easy to hear this and think to ourselves that we would have responded differently.  But would we?  How often do you drive past the person holding a sign by the grocery store, saying that her children are hungry?  Or the person sitting outside Starbucks, cold and hungry?

How often do you call your aging parent who lives across the country?  Or visit them in assisted living?  Or call the friend with cancer?  Or the one recently widowed?  We get busy and the weeks fly by, don’t they?

Do you speak up when someone is being harassed?  Bullied?  Treated unfairly?  Do you think about what scripture teaches when you vote?  Do you wonder how policies will affect the “less thans”? 

This passage warns us that Jesus will recognize the sheep and the goats by the way we live our lives and Jesus cares more about the heart than he does about the rules.

Wherever there is a social injustice – and there are plenty! -  Jesus calls on us to reach out and help. To be radical.   To speak up.  turning things upside down; To be the correction that needs to happen. Today’s passage teaches us that helping someone who is hurting; helping someone in need; caring about those that God himself cares about; is the same as helping Jesus himself.

We live in a hurt and broken world.  People are suffering in many ways – all around us and all over the world.  We don’t have to look far to see that.  There is need everywhere.  It can be overwhelming.  Hopeless.

There is a story; perhaps you’ve heard it before.  There was a young girl who was walking along a beach where thousands of starfish had been washed up during a terrible storm. When she came to each starfish, she would pick it up, and throw it back into the ocean. People watched her with amusement.

She had been doing this for some time when a man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? Look at this beach! You can’t save all these starfish. You can’t begin to make a difference!”

But after a few moments, she bent down, picked up another starfish, and hurled it as far as she could into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied, “Well, I made a difference to that one!”[2]

I think this Scripture calls us individually, and as God’s Church, to have compassion and love at the very core of our being; to naturally care about those who are hurting; those who go without.  I think this Scripture calls us to see every person as a person made in the image of God – a person that Christ loves.  I think this Scripture calls us to serve and to care and to love because God loves. It tells us that the way we live our life matters to God. 

Will Jesus tell you to go right or go left?  Will I be a sheep or a goat?  I guess I’ll find out.  Until then, I’m going to keep picking up one starfish at a time and throwing it back into the water.  What about you?     Amen.

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[1] Sermon Writer:  Resources for Lectionary Preaching.  What the Saints Do.  A sermon by Pastor Steven Molin.

[2] Adapted from The Star Thrower, by Loren C. Eiseley

Salt and Light

Rev. Debra Cato

Matthew 5:13-20

Church of the Indian Fellowship

February 5, 2017

Salt and Light

 

Jesus is still up on the mountain where he can look over the large crowd of people gathered to listen to him teach.  Ordinary people.  People like you and me.  People who are struggling.  Who need to hear some good news.  People that have heard rumors about  this ordinary man with extraordinary charisma.  This man who cares about the poor more than the powerful.  This man who teaches about this new kind of kingdom called the kingdom of heaven.  This man who tells them that God loves them; the forgotten, the oppressed, the unimportant.  This man who says  they matter; that they have purpose; that they are loved.

Jesus has been teaching for some time now and yet the crowd remains captivated by his words.  Jesus has told them about this upside-down kingdom where the poor in spirit; those who hunger and thirst for righteousness; and those who are persecuted are blessed.  Who knows if they really understand, yet they stay and they listen.  Jesus teaches them about this call to discipleship.  He teaches them about following him. 

And now, they learn that if they decide to follow Jesus, they have blessings and responsibilities.   Jesus uses two common images to describe who his followers are and what they must be for the world.  Salt and light. 

“You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus says.  You are the salt of the earth. 

We add salt to food to enhance the taste; to make it taste better.  What are French fries without salt?!   

When Jesus says that his followers are the salt of the earth, he is saying that he expects us to add good to life on earth; to make life better for others.   Because we call ourselves followers of Christ, we are the ones called to care for those who suffer; we are the ones called to seek justice; to show mercy; to have integrity; to protect the vulnerable; to be peacemakers; to protect the earth; to courageously stand for what is right.

        “You are the light of the world,” Jesus says.  You who call yourselves my followers; 

you are the light of the world.

Light allows us to see things.  Light provides the energy necessary for vegetation to grow; light provides solar power for electricity.

Followers of Jesus are like light when they engage others in the world; empowering diversity; nurturing a healthy ecofriendly world; restoring and repairing relationships; standing up for justice.  Doing good works in the name of Jesus Christ.

Has Pastor Irvin talked about the lectionary and what that is?  Lectionary are prescribed scripture readings that go in a 3-year cycle so that if you follow them, you would read/ preach from the whole Bible in three years.  Some preachers/churches follow the lectionary and some do not.

It always amazes me (I think it’s a Holy Spirit thing!) how well the lectionary readings fit what is happening in the world.   Today, it seems that our world is very dark.  Very broken.  People are fearful.  Struggling to find hope.  Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.”  Is that what we need to hear today, or what?!

Martin Luther King, Jr. said that “Darkness cannot drive out darkness.  Only light can drive out darkness.” 

Now you need to notice something here.  Jesus does not call us to be salt and light.  He does not say that we will become salt and light.  Jesus says we already are!!  “You ARE the salt of the earth,” he says.  “You ARE the light of the world!”  Wow.  That’s pretty amazing.   You and me.  Us imperfect, sinners!  We are the salt of the earth and the light of the world!  We are the salt and light as individual followers of Christ and as a gathered community of Christ followers; as the Church.  

Jesus lays out some radical ideas in his Sermon on the Mount – the Kingdom of Heaven is

completely upside-down from the ways of the world.  The weak are strong; the poor are rich.   Defiantly loving in the face of violent intolerance.  Nurturing a heart that does not hurt or forget the wounded.     Living in peace and justice with one another.  Seeing and noticing what matters to God.

Nelson Mandela once quoted,   "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.... We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

You ARE the light of the world.  You ARE the salt of the earth.  I believe Jesus words are meant for such a time as this.  There is so much darkness in our world today.  How can we "be light" in such a dark, contentious world?

Pastor Irvin went to Standing Rock.  He talked to the protestors.  He encouraged.  He let them know that people support them.  He let me know that the majority of us stand with them.  Pastor Irvin let his light shine in the midst of the darkness.  Veterans are at Standing Rock, letting their light shine in support of the protestors.  Water is more important than greed.  We will not stand for the continued rape of the land.

Last Saturday evening, at least two pastors from Tacoma headed to Sea-Tac Airport after the executive order banning refugee travel to the United States was signed.  Wearing their clergy vestments, they peacefully protested with thousands of others saying we will not stand for exclusion.  We welcome refugees, they chanted.  They let their light shine through peaceful protest, even after they were pepper sprayed and attacked.  The Gospel is clear about refugees and the vulnerable.

A Tacoma pastor along with many other clergy, laid down in the U.S. Senate this week to protest the repeal of the Affordable Care Act.  They did this because too many people from  their congregations would lose critical healthcare coverage.  Their light shone as they were arrested for standing up for the right for healthcare for those who could not stand up for themselves.

So many more examples of the challenges to the Kingdom of Heaven.  Racism, poverty, immigration, education, labor….  And Jesus says, “YOU are the salt of the earth.  YOU are the light of the world.”

Jesus encourages his followers to bring light to a dark and broken world.  The light is the light of the gospel.  This mission has been crucial – from the very beginning when Jesus first gave it to that crowd of people sitting around him listening to him teach.  It has continued to be a critical message through every age of time – including today; to us sitting here in this sanctuary this morning.  Where will you let your light shine?  How will your light help drive out the darkness in the world?

Let Us Pray:

 

God of Wisdom and Compassion

You made us to be salt and light in a tasteless, shadowed world.

Guide us in these troubled times. 

Grant us courage, understanding and spiritual discernment so that others may see your light through us, give you the glory, and be moved to serve you. 

                                                                   Amen.

Sit Wherever You Want

Rev. Debra Cato

Luke 14:1; 7-14

Church of the Indian Fellowship

August 28, 2016

Sit Wherever You Want

A lot of Jesus ministry; a lot of his teaching happens around meals.  Have you noticed that?  Jesus and meals; Jesus and food seem to go together!  Jesus sits down with people, he eats a meal, he talks, and people change.

Besides the wedding feast when Jesus turns water into wine, the first meal mentioned in the gospels is when Jesus eats with Matthew.  It’s after Jesus calls Matthew to leave everything to follow him.  Matthew is so excited that he throws a huge banquet for Jesus and invites all his tax collector friends.  He wants them to meet Jesus too.

The Pharisees and teachers of the law have a fit about the company Jesus keeps!  “Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?” they ask.  The religious leaders are appalled that Jesus is sitting at a table and eating with Matthew and his friends.  From the very beginning Jesus is scandalous!

Jesus feeds the crowds of people who come to hear him teach – blessing five loaves of bread and two small fish.  The gospels tell us Jesus does this twice – He feeds a crowd of 7,000 and a crowd of 4,000 and of course if we count the women and children it’s likely twice this many people!

Jesus calls Zacchaeus, another tax collector known for his crookedness, down from a tree and invites himself to his house for dinner.  Zacchaeus stunned at Jesus’ acceptance, immediately confesses and offers restitution to all his victims – just at the invitation of a meal with Jesus! 

There are many, many stories of Jesus sitting down at a table and sharing a meal with people. 

On the night of his arrest; knowing that in only hours he would be arrested and humiliated and beaten, Jesus eats a meal with his closest friends;  the 12 men he picked just 3 years earlier to follow him.  A meal that was so important that we continue to celebrate it in the church today. 

And then there are the stories after his death and resurrection...  starting as strangers sharing a meal but ending with the recognition that they were actually sitting at a table and eating with the risen Lord and Savior.  Lives forever changed.

So today, Luke takes us to another meal with Jesus …

and this time we get 2 teachings in one! 

Jesus is invited to the home of a Pharisee for dinner. 

We know that the Pharisees do not consider Jesus a friend!  They do not like him!  They feel threatened by Jesus!  They don’t like the things he says.  They don’t like what he does.  They don’t like the people he hangs out with.  They are watching him.  They constantly try to catch him making a mistake; catch him doing or saying something worthy of arrest.  Something that will let them shut him up once and for all.  And yet, one of the Pharisees invite him over to his house for a Sabbath meal.   Jesus loves eating with people so he says ‘yes’ to the invitation, and he shows up for dinner.

Jesus is a people-watcher.  Do you like to watch people?  Do you like to be somewhere – like a waiting room, or the airport, or a restaurant; maybe a party?  Somewhere where you can watch people, see how they behave, see how they respond to situations?  Do you like to notice their similarities, their differences, their idiosyncrasies? 

Jesus notices people.  He notices when a woman touches the very edge of his clothes.  He notices when a woman at a well has a deeper story. When she needs to be accepted. He notices when a man lying by a pool of water has a deeper story; when so-called sinners need compassion rather than condemnation; he notices when lepers need touch rather than exclusion.  Jesus watches people and he learns a lot by what he sees. 

So it’s no surprise that when Jesus shows up for dinner at the house of the Pharisee, he watches the other guests arrive and take their seats at the dinner table.  Jesus notices their behavior.   He notices that there was no assigned seating because the guests sit wherever they want.  And Jesus notices that wherever they want to sit, turns out to be the seats closest to the host.  The “best seats in the house.”[1]  The seats of honor.

Jesus is never afraid to speak his mind – even when he’s the guest of a Pharisee, and so he scolds them saying, “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited.”

Jesus was not one to be impressed by importance, was He?  He taught over and over again that what is important in the world is not what’s important to God.

So once again he warns us about worldly importance.  He warns us not to assume we are the most important person invited to dinner; the most important person in the room.  Jesus says, always humble yourself.  Assume there will be someone more important than you.  Don’t exalt yourself and choose the customary seats of honor.  Assume every invited guest is as important as you or wait!  Perhaps more important than you!  When you can sit wherever you want, sit somewhere else.  Leave the seats of honor for someone else.

Now I need to stop for a minute and remind you that humbling yourself does not mean

thinking less of yourself.  Sometimes we think we are being humble when we put ourselves down or when we think harshly of ourselves.  But that is not being faithful to who God calls us to be or what Jesus is challenging us to in this passage.  True humility is not thinking of yourself any differently from the way you think of anyone else.  Humility is the capacity for being no more or no less pleased with yourself than you are with anyone else.  After all, we are all made in the image of God.  We are all worthy in God’s eyes.  No more or no less than the next person.

But, Jesus knew that far too often we jockey for position trying to be important in the eyes of others. Vying for recognition. Choose me! Notice me!  Jesus reminds us that the humbled will be exalted in the end. God chooses who will be lifted up!

Imagine how the guests of the Pharisee – probably other religious leaders and important people in the community heard this message!  But Jesus; well Jesus isn’t finished!  What a dinner guest he makes!  Now Jesus turns to His host.  The Pharisee hosting this meal.  The Pharisee who invited Jesus over for dinner in the first place.

Jesus turns to His host and he says, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid.  But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed.  Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

I think if Jesus were speaking to us today (which He actually is by the way!) he would specifically name the “the homeless, the immigrants, the refugees.” 

But the world tells us differently.  We are told they are the ones who have done something wrong.  They are to blame for their circumstances.  They are the outcasts.  Those are the ones we are to turn away.  They don’t belong at our table.  They aren’t invited.  Notice the “us and them” language.  We separate ourselves. 

But Jesus speaks contrary to what the world says.  Jesus tells us these are exactly the people we are to invite to our table.  “Don’t invite those who can repay you.  When you give a banquet, invite those who cannot repay you and you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

It’s easy for me to imagine this banquet, this meal that Jesus envisions.  God called me to a ministry at Catholic Community Services Family Housing Network.  We are a housing provider for families in Pierce County who are experiencing homelessness. 

Our shelter program serves families experiencing homelessness while they work toward

permanent housing.  Family Housing Network has a Day Center with kitchen, laundry, and

shower facilities.  In the evenings, the families go to a church that hosts the families for dinner and sleep for 1-2 weeks at a time after which the families move to the next church and then the next... and the next.

Every night of the week, there is a church in Pierce County, hosting a banquet for the homeless just as Jesus envisioned.  I see these families gathered around the table – 20 - 25 mothers and fathers; children and infants, sitting at a table in the church basements or fellowship halls eating a meal prepared by church volunteers.  These are not guests that will ever repay their hosts. 

Far too often they forget to say thank you.  Sometimes they complain about the food; they don’t like it.  It’s not what they want.   Sometimes they don’t clean up after themselves or their children.  They don’t always have “good manners.”

Sometimes the volunteers sit down and eat with the families.  They get to know them.  They develop relationships with the adults.  They understand how hard it is.  The shame.  They appreciate the families.  They love on their children.  They have compassion.  They see beyond their homelessness; their neediness; their circumstances and they see the people.  They develop relationships and everyone is transformed – the families and the volunteers.  The families are welcomed guests in the church.  This is what we hope for.  This is a good week.

Sometimes the volunteers stand off by themselves and just watch the families eat.  They criticize the lack of gratefulness; the lack of appreciation.  They watch for them to do something wrong.  They judge the parenting skills; the behavior of the children.  They complain about the lack of manners and the lack of help with clean-up and chores.  The volunteers don’t sit down at the table and eat with the families.  They don’t get to know them. Relationships are not established.  There is no transformation. They see the differences and they are too great.  They are afraid of the homelessness; the poverty.  The don’t see the face of God in the faces of the homeless.  Hosting the families is a chore; a burden.  These are hard weeks for the volunteers, the families, and our staff.

The world will tell you that people are homeless because they are lazy and they don’t want to work.  They abuse government programs; they want to be on welfare.  They are homeless because they are addicts or mentally ill or they don’t pay their rent.  They are criminals.  Sometimes you hear that people are homeless because they want to be homeless.  Sometimes some of this may be true. 

Most often, families are homeless because they are single parents working one or two minimum wage jobs and they can’t afford the high rents in Pierce County and the cost of childcare and utilities and food. 

Or, they are a two-parent working family, renting the same house for 11 years.  A family living a decent life.  Five great children, the oldest starting college at Central Washington University.  Without warning, their landlord gives them a 20-day notice to move because he wants to sell the house.  They don’t have the average $2,000+ in savings that it costs to move.  Suddenly, this average family is homeless.

Or because there is not enough truly affordable housing in Pierce County.

Or they are a veteran who served 3 tours in Iraq and Afghanistan and returned with PTSD and can’t find employment and they’ve gone from hero to homeless.

Or she’s a Mom with 2 children fleeing domestic violence with only a suitcase of belongings with her.

These are the stories of some of the people who came to us for help in the last two weeks.  The stories are endless. They are as varied as the people.  If you sit down and get to know them, you understand that you have a lot in common with these people.  Homelessness is their immediate situation, it’s not who they are.

Perhaps the only difference between a homeless family and you is that you have a support network and they don’t.  A church family that could and would be there in a crisis.  If you got that 20-day notice to move, your church could help.  Or someone in the church could give you a place to stay while you saved the money you would need to move. 

I think both of Jesus’ teachings in today’s passage go together.  They are both about humility and how we see ourselves in relation to others.  We are no better or no worse than others.  We aren’t that different from one another.  We are all created in the image of God. But we have to get to know one another to figure that out!  We have to have humility and compassion and look at others with the eyes of God.

Jesus knew that one of the best ways to do that is to sit down at a table and eat together.  Fellowship and breaking bread.  It works wonders.  Not jockeying for the best seat – the seat of honor.  But sitting wherever you want, knowing that whoever you sit by is important in the eyes of God.  Created in the image of God.  Relationships are built when we eat together.  Lives are transformed.   And it’s when we let our recognition, our reward, come from God that we will be truly blessed.  Eternally blessed.

The Church must counter the messages of hate and unacceptance the world confronts us with every day with our actions of love and humility and compassion.  So I leave you with these questions: 

How can you live this out in your life? 

How can this church; this Body of Christ live this out as a witness to
                       God’s love in the world? 

Amen

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[1] Feasting on the Word, Year c, Volume 4. Page 23.  Exegetical Perspective.  Rodney S. Sadler Jr.  

The Reality of Our Faith

Rev. Debra Cato

Central Presbyterian Church

Second Sunday of Lent, 2/21/16

Psalm 27:  The Reality of Our Faith

The Reality of Our Faith

This morning, our Old Testament reading happens to be one of my favorite Psalms; Psalm 27.  And during Lent, what better place to go in Scripture than to the Psalms? In the Book of Psalms, we find the most beautiful words of praise and worship, poetry – often put to music; from the deepest yearnings of the heart of the psalmist.   Words of awe and wonder at the sovereignty and power and majesty of the God who created and rules over all the heavens and the earth.  Words of faith and trust in the faithfulness and power of the all-knowing Almighty God.  In Psalms we find words of tremendous angst and suffering due to persecution, fear, loss, confusion.  Words of heartbreaking grief and devastation.  Words of abandonment and anger – even toward God himself.  Honest, heartfelt words.  Even these are words of worship. Psalm 27 begins with words of praise and awe: 

                   The LORD is my light and my salvation;

                                    whom shall I fear?

                        The LORD is the stronghold of my life;

                                    of whom shall I be afraid?

                        When evildoers assail me to devour my flesh –

                                    my adversaries and foes –

 they shall stumble and fall.

                       Though an army encamp against me,

                                    my heart shall not fear;

                                               

These are powerful words.  Words of faith.  Words we find in many of our hymns.  Words that lift us up.  Words that fills us with God’s power and

strength.  Words that give us courage to go on.  Beautiful words of faith. This God we worship is mighty. He is sovereign.  This God we worship is faithful.  We can stand strong because of the God we stand with.  We can trust God.  God will and does deliver us from evil.

These words are easy to believe, they are easy to say and repeat when life is going well.  When things are in control.  When we feel God’s blessings in our lives; when we feel hopeful; when it is easy to proclaim our faith. When we are confident of God’s presence in our lives.  What I call those “mountain top times.”

                   The Lord is my light and my salvation;

                                    whom shall I fear?  We proclaim.

           

The Lord is the stronghold of my life;

                                    of whom shall I be afraid?  We say with confidence.

What happens when that mountain is pulled out from under us?  What happens when believing gets hard to do?  What then?

I grew up in a small, rural town in southwest Minnesota.  Winter often began in October and ended after Easter.  I loved it.  All the baseball fields in the elementary schools would be flooded and turned into ice rinks and we would skate all winter – including during recess.  Sometimes we could even ice skate in the street in front of our house.  (These were the days before I drove so I thought it was really awesome!) 

It wasn’t unusual to snow 3 feet or more overnight.  You can imagine how beautiful it looked to wake up to this much snow.  The snow would blow into huge drifts that created amazing sledding and tobogganing in our own backyards.  Not to mention snowmen and snow angels and huge forts for snow ball fights!  It was a great way to grow up.

Right behind our house was an open field where we would take our sleds and  

toboggans.  We would traipse through our backyard, across the alley and through the snowbanks in the field for what seemed like miles.  The snow was deep and we would sink in the drifts.  Our toboggans were heavy but it was worth the work.  When we got toward the tallest drift we would pile on and away we would go.  Up and down and over the drifts we would fly.  What a hoot!  Then we would do it over and over again for hours on end.

One Saturday morning we were having a blast when it started snowing.  We didn’t pay it any mind because it was more fun to sled while it was snowing anyway.  What we didn’t notice was how hard the wind was blowing nor how quickly the snow was piling up.  Suddenly my older brother realized that we could no longer see our house.  In fact, we were having trouble seeing one another.  It was a white out.  Just like that, our fun came to an abrupt end. We were really scared. 

Bill knew that we needed to stay together or we would lose one another.  So we gathered together and all held hands.  Bill thought he knew which direction our house was so we started walking, but it was hard and we really weren’t sure if we were walking toward the house or away from the house.  The snow was deep, the wind was blowing really hard against us, and the snow and wind felt like needles digging into our faces. It was hard to hang on to each other.  We kept falling down.  We were confused about where we were and which direction we were walking.  We couldn’t see anything around us.  I was probably 7 or 8 years old and I still remember how afraid I was.

After what seemed like a really long time, we thought we heard something in the distance. We could barely hear it but sure enough there it was, Mom’s voice yelling for us in the distance.  “Come here!”  I’m over here!”   Mom didn’t give up.  She kept yelling and even though we couldn’t see anything; even though we

were really scared; we walked and walked; we fell and got up; and walked and walked some more toward her voice until we finally found our way home.

Have you ever found yourself in a white out?  You’re living your life and all of a sudden you realize you are surrounded by chaos? It isn’t what you planned.   You don’t know where you are, how you got there, or how you are going to find your way back. Nothing looks familiar.   You are confused and scared and you feel all alone. 

It might be a relationship; an illness; a death; a financial crisis; some unplanned life change; even a world event – but something has changed.  Something has turned your world upside down and you can’t see where you’re going or where you will end up.  You are scared.  And if you are really honest with yourself, you feel abandoned.  Even abandoned by God.  You can’t sense His presence in your life; you can’t hear His voice; you feel like His promises are empty. 

Honestly, this I love this Psalm.  Following the proclamations of praise and awe; the choruses of trust and faithfulness; the psalmist scribes this: 

                   Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud,

                                    be gracious to me and answer me! …

                        Do not hide your face from me.

                        Do not turn your servant away in anger,

                                    you have been my help.

                        Do not cast me off, do not forsake me…

                        Do not give me up to the will of my adversaries,

                                    for the false witnesses have risen against me,  

                        and they are breathing out violence.

Do you hear it?  Can you feel it?  The raw pain.  The anger and bewilderment of the psalmist.  The desperation.  Answer me, God!  Do not turn away from me!  

Don’t let my enemies win!   Where are you God?  Where are you? 

It almost feels like a different Psalm, the tone changes so abruptly.  How can someone so strong and trusting in their Almighty God; question the motives of that same God?  And yet….  don’t we all do the same?  Something happens that shatters our reality; surrounds us in a cloud of chaos; and our faith turns to doubt and uncertainty.

I love this psalm because it holds in balance the gritty honesty of the dance we do between trust and fear.  You see, real fear lives alongside honest faith.  Bona fide doubt holds hands with genuine trust. It’s a tension that is authentic.  It’s the reality of our faith. This journey of faith we walk is not a steady, smooth path.  It is a rocky road, full of pot holes. 

The reality is, we live in a world filled with broken relationships, personal disappointments, cultural disrespect and racism, increased terrorism, and extreme fear and intolerance increased by arrogance and bigotry. We live in a world struggling with extreme poverty, war ravaged countries and peoples; disease and famine depleted populations.  Disease strikes and devastates our families and friends and loved ones.  Financial disasters hit.  No one is exempt from bitter disappointments or crushing pain.  Things don’t make sense.  They aren’t as they should be.  If we are honest with ourselves - and one another, we know the sense of feeling abandoned or “turned away” by God.[1]

We want our faith to always be strong.  It feels better that way.  We want to always trust God; to always believe in His promises.  We think we should.  When we don’t, we are embarrassed; ashamed.  “I should trust, God.” We think.  “My faith should be stronger.” We tell ourselves.  But the truth is, sometimes the reality of our faith is that we doubt.  We just do.  We struggle.  We question. Sometimes it feels like God isn’t there.  Like He has abandoned us when we need Him the most.  It’s an uncomfortable place to be. 

But Brothers and Sisters in Christ, it’s being real.  Sometimes life takes the breath out of us.  It blows to bits everything that we have believed and relied on in the past.  This is when I take to the Psalms.  They don’t hold back. They cry out in both praise and pain.  They speak truth to God.  You too can share your bitter disappointments; your fears, your anger, with God.  He can take it.  He can handle it.  You will not disappoint Him.  He will love you through it.  And even though it feels like it, He will not leave you.  He may be silent, but He will not abandon you.  You can be honest with your feelings – after all, He knows how you feel anyway!

What’s really amazing is that even when you are in the depths of chaos; the deepest depression; when you feel you no longer believe or trust God, you will find that somewhere in your soul a deep faith.  You will know deep inside that God is real.  You will know that God is with you even though you can’t find Him.  You will know that somehow, someway you will get through it.  Your brain may not believe it.  You may not see how, or understand logically, but deep down inside, that faith is still alive.  God is still there.  He is there in the middle of your doubt.

Vigorous faith and animated doubt both require that we take God seriously; that we ask God real questions; that we depend upon God in tangible ways.  When we examine our doubts we end up refining our understanding and ideals of God as we turn them into experiences and a real relationship.  Out of doubt comes faith.  Without doubt, there can be no faith.

This is why community is so important in our Christian journey.  When we are

in a time of doubt.  When we are hurting and lost; feeling abandoned by God,  

someone else is on that mountaintop, feeling the awe and beauty and majesty of the sovereignty of God’s holiness.  They pray when we cannot.  They believe when we don’t.  And when the tides turn, we do the same for them. It’s what we do.  The tension between trust and doubt; fear and faith is part of our journey. It is the reality of our faith.

Lent is a time to ask the deep questions of our faith. It is never easy, but it is the call of God on our lives. This psalm gives us permission to doubt and question.  It gives us grace to struggle.  But this psalm also invites us to believe again that our faith in God will never desert us, no matter what happens. Life without fear is not possible, but faith can call us to live into God’s will for our life instead of reducing our lives to our fears and insecurities.[2]

And as this Psalmist concludes:

                   Wait for the Lord!

                             Be strong, and let your heart take courage.

                   Wait for the Lord!

Let Us Pray:   Merciful, loving God.  You are indeed our light and our salvation.  With you we have nothing to fear because you are almighty, all-powerful, and all-knowing.  We are in awe of your sovereignty and your creativity.  Thank you for your undying love; even at our most unloving moments.  Thank you for your endless grace and mercy when we are filled with unbelief and doubt.  You never abandon us even when we cannot find you.  Thank you for our brothers and sisters who believe for us when we cannot believe for ourselves.  Lift up those who need to be lifted up by your strength and lead us all to share your mercy and grace with all those whose paths we cross this week.  In the loving name of Jesus, Amen. 

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[1] Feasting on the Word.  Year C, Volume x.  Pastoral Perspective.  Pg. 56/ Lindsay P. Armstrong.

[2] Beth L. Tanner,  Professor of Old Testament.  New Brunswick Theological Seminary, New Brunswick, NJ.  http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2777