Sunday, August 28, 2016

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



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

Sunday, February 28, 2016

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. 


[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


Sunday, July 19, 2015

Being Attractive

Reverend Debbie Cato
Mark 6:30-34; 53-56
Peace  Presbyterian Church

July 19, 2015

Being Attractive


Does your view of the world match God’s view of the world?

Today’s passage says that “when Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like a sheep without a shepherd.” He had compassion on them because they were like a sheep without a shepherd.   The term “compassion” is explicitly used of Jesus’ attitude toward human beings in at least eight Gospel references. It is implicit in the entire witness of his life, including his healing ministry that is so prominent in this text. 

God is moved and affected by what happens in the world. That is good news!  God is concerned about the world and shares in its fate.  This is the very essence of God’s moral nature:  his willingness to be intimately involved in the history of humanity.  God has compassion on the world and the people that He created.  Compassion is the very essence of the One who created us and before whom all life is lived.[1]

When Jesus looked at the crowds that had gathered around him and had compassion on them, what was he feeling toward them? What does it mean to have compassion?   Having compassion for someone doesn’t mean you have pity for them; it’s not feeling sorry for them.  Pity is something you imagine or feel from a distance.  Pity puts you above the one who suffers.  Compassion literally means with-suffering.  With-suffering.  Another words, You cannot have compassion unless you suffer with those to whom you refer.  Compassion is unconditional solidarity with the ones whom you feel compassion toward.  You feel someone’s suffering with them – as if you are indeed suffering with them; feeling their hurt; feeling their pain; feeling their angst. 

Compassion is the mark of Christ’s identification with us, achieved at Golgotha – when Christ went all the way; hanging on the cross for us. He suffered physical pain and  humility – for us.  He had unconditional solidarity with humanity; God’s created people; you and me.  Christ was compassionate.  Compassion is the very core of our faith.

And so it’s no wonder that the Gospel of Mark speaks of people rushing and begging for an opportunity to be made whole through an encounter with Jesus.  People were attracted to him.  Mark  says, “They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard he was.  And wherever he went – into villages, towns, or countryside – they placed the sick in the market places.  They begged him to let them touch even the edge of his cloak, and all who touched him were healed.”   People in all conditions were drawn to Jesus because of His compassion.  They came to Jesus sick and broken and hurt and they left transformed.  Their lives were never the same again.

God views the world with compassion.   Do you?


As Christians, we claim that Jesus of Nazareth was a good, generous, loving, and compassionate human being.  In saying this, we are also saying that God – the Source of our lives and the Source of all life – is also good and generous and loving and compassionate.[2] 


If we call ourselves Christians – Followers of Christ, then we too must be good and generous and loving and compassionate human beings.   Is this how the Body of Christ – the church, experiences the neediness of the world?  Is this how we experience the neediness of the world?

There is a whole generation missing from churches across the country.   People in their teens through their thirties have left the church.  And you might be surprised to hear that it’s not because they don’t believe in Jesus.  It’s because they reject the church.  Let me say that again, and please listen to what I say.  People – particularly young people in their teens through their thirties have left the church; they do not consider themselves Christians not because they don’t believe in Jesus, but because they reject the church. 

Dan Kimball is a pastor and author interested in the renewal of the church.     He spent several years researching and interviewing this missing generation, many of whom had grown up in church.  He wanted  to find out why they are no longer attending church.  He wanted to learn what their attitudes about church are; understand their beliefs about God ; their beliefs about Jesus.  After two years of talking and listening to what people had to say, he wrote a book called “They Like Jesus But Not The Church.”[3]    It's an excellent book.  I recommend it.

In his book, Kimball says that when he asked people about Jesus, they responded positively.  He was surprised at how open and willing people
were to talk about Jesus; even people who did not call themselves Christians.  People said that Jesus was loving and compassionate.  They said he was welcoming and accepting of others.  People recognized that he taught right from wrong and people were transformed and showed a new way of living.  Kimball found that most people, including non-believers, are interested in learning more about Jesus.  This missing generation is attracted to Jesus.  This is good news!

When he asked them why they don't go to church, Kimball found people equally passionate and willing to share their thoughts.  When it came to talking about the Church and Christians in general, the people Kimball talked with were very outspoken.  Overwhelmingly, the same people who are open and positive about Jesus are critical and turned off by the church.  While they see Jesus’ as a loving, compassionate, accepting person, they find Christians to be the exact opposite.

The people Kimball talked with – people in their twenties and thirties; people that used to call themselves Christians and people who openly claimed not to be Christians, said that the Church isn’t about Jesus;  the Church wasn’t loving and welcoming and accepting.  The said the church was not compassionate.  This missing generation perceived the church, and Christians, as negative and more about what we are against than what we are about.  They saw the Church being about rules and regulations and about finger wagging and “we’re right and you are wrong”.  They saw the Church as unforgiving.  Most people reported that the Christian Church had become an organized religion with a political agenda – too often unwilling to accept differing political opinions.  People reported that the Church was not open to other beliefs and was oppressive to other cultural experiences.  People said they were turned off by the Church and Christians because the Church and Christians no longer  resemble Jesus.  Ouch.

It’s hard to blame them for coming to the conclusions that they come to. Often the most outspoken Christians have the most extreme positions and somehow it seems they speak for all of us.  Of course too often, even we in the church hear Christian speakers who have a national platform speak and we take what they say as truth so, why wouldn’t others?  And then there are churches like the church from Kansas that pickets outside military funerals holding signs with offensive messages such as "God Hates You" and "God Hates Fags," because they believe military deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan and other places are God's punishment for tolerance of homosexuality and a sign that the nation's destruction is imminent.[4]   I read yesterday that Westboro Baptist Church plans to picket the funerals for the four marines killed in Tennessee.  Where is the compassion?   

          Jesus views the world with compassion.   Does His church?

Separate studies have shown similar results.  People in the hospitality industry – people working in restaurants say that Sundays are their least favorite day to work!  They say they dread the after-church crowd.  Waiters and waitresses say that people come in after church to eat, dressed in their Sunday best and they are rude and demanding and disrespectful and leave terrible tips.  People are watching us!

Clerks in retail stores report that people wearing crosses are often the rudest, most impatient customers.  There’s nothing like seeing a car bearing a Christian symbol on the rode with an irate driver filled with rode rage. 

  
People were attracted to Jesus.  Are they attracted to His followers?

The missing generations from churches attracted to Jesus but they are not attracted to His Body.  Jesus’ own people are not attractive.  We have some repenting to do.

Criticisms and misconceptions of the church should matter to all of us.  After all, we are part of the church.  We are part of the body of Christ.  When part of us misrepresents Jesus, we all are misrepresented.  If part of us is misunderstood, we are all misunderstood.  We need to be about Jesus and not about stuff that Jesus was not about.

Jesus views the world with compassion.   Do we?

Unfortunately, today people in search of healing are far more likely to seek out therapists, physicians, self-help books, and prescription drugs than to enter a church building.  People outside the church do not recognize Christ’s healing presence within communities of faith.  If the church today is unrecognizable as a place of healing, then we need to reflect on what our mission and purpose in the world is and how we communicate the good news of God’s healing grace in this time and place”.[5]  

What would it be like if the Church was as compassionate as Jesus? Would the hurt and broken and sick and  in our world come running to Christ’s Church to find healing and wholeness?  Imagine how full our churches would be and how transformed the world would be! 

May His kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.


[1]                         Feasting on the Word:  Year B, Volume 3.  Douglas John Hall. P260.
[2]               Ibid. 
[3]                      Kimball, Dan.  They Like Jesus but Not The Church.   Grand Rapids:  Zondervan.   2007/
[4]                      ABC World News.  March 2, 2011
[5]                      Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3.  Karen Marie Yust.  p 264.