First Pick

Some of us will have more time off from work on this Labor Day Weekend. Some of our free time will likely be spent doing nothing more exciting than watching TV. Perhaps we may watch American Idol, Iron Chef, or Survivor. These are a genre of TV shows that appear to offer reality competition in which there are winners and there are losers. The winners get to come back on the show again and the losers are sent home backing. What are we learning when we watch these programs? Survival of the fittest? That is not the message in our Epistle reading from James this morning.

According to Greek mythology, Sisyphus was once a cruel King of Corinth. And when he died, he was eternally condemned to push a giant boulder to the top of a steep hill. The closer he got to the top, the steeper the hill became, and the harder it was to push the boulder. Every time he had almost gotten the boulder to the top of the hill, he would lose control of it. It would roll over him and down to the bottom of the hill, where he would have to start all over again. 

On this Labor Day weekend I hope that none of you are feeling like Sisyphus. I hope that you don't wake up every morning feeling like you have to push a giant boulder up a hill. Some people do. 

Like the teacher who was complaining about her job. She told about her principal who was lecturing the faculty quite unmercifully. One by one, he presented them with a painful list of all their failures, flaws and shortcomings. He chided them for over an hour for all the mistakes they had made over the year. Then he announced that the science club was sponsoring a blood drive and that he would donate the first pint of blood. An anxious voice piped up from the rear of the room and asked, "But whose blood?" I hope your work environment is a little better than that. At least I hope your boss is a little more sympathetic. (King Duncan, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com)

On this labor day weekend as we hear of the unemployed, we are aware of employers picking people for jobs. Some get chosen to come back to work and some are sent packing. We live in stressful days when some people work harder for less pay, others are unemployed, and others fear losing their jobs.

During stressful times, people need a supportive faith community more than ever. We are told that as the population of the United States increases, church membership remains the same. Therefore, the percentage of Christians in our nation is slowly dropping. Various methods are used by pastors and congregations to stem the tide of falling membership and to produce membership growth. But most of the methods so employed are short-lived and result in failure.

 

A study of new members who join churches has revealed that the vast majority of them were moved to join a church because someone invited them. This is by far the best method of achieving results. The personal invitation is the most effective tool of evangelism. Whom have you invited to your church? Are we letting Christ down, and are we unmoved by the decline in church membership? What do we think of the steady rise and growth of cults and other New Age religions?

 

There are people around us today who, when asked why they do not attend any church, will answer, "Because we have never been asked." Who is there to whom you should be giving a friendly invitation to attend church? Who is there in your wide social circle who can honestly say that they have never been asked to a service of worship, to meet Christ, the Creator and Savior of the world? (Harold H. Lentz, Preaching the Miracles, CSS Publishing.)

A story is told of a family that went into a restaurant. The waitress walked up and, looking at the young boy, said: What will it be? The boy eagerly shouted back: "I'll take a hamburger, French fries, and a chocolate shake."  The mother immediately interrupted: "Oh, that's not what he wants. He'll take the roast beef, a baked potato, and a glass of milk." Much to the surprise of both the mother and the boy, the waitress completely ignored her and again asked the boy: "And what do you want on that hamburger?" The boy shouted back, "ketchup, lots of ketchup." "And what kind of shake?"  "Make it chocolate." The boy then turned to his parents with a big smile on his face and said: "Mommy! Daddy! Did you hear that? She thinks that I'm real!"

 

Well, let me give you fair warning. If you once, just once, start really hearing people they are suddenly going to become real to you. (Staff, www.eSermons.com) There are going to stop seeming like some TV character on Amercian Idol or Iron Chef. They are going to become real.

Interestingly, as we often see in Scripture, sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same. James wrote:

My friends, as believers in our Lord Jesus Christ, you must never treat people in different ways according to their outward appearance. ... You will do the right thing if you obey the law of the Kingdom, which is found in the scripture, "Love your neighbour as yourself." But if you treat people according to their outward appearance, you are guilty of sin, and the Law condemns you as a lawbreaker. Whoever breaks one commandment is guilty of breaking them all.

Why did James write this passage? It wasn't simply to annoy his readers. He had a very good reason for writing it. Some of his friends were also treating others differently according to how they looked. In his case, it wasn't that some people were over or under weight. His concern was the different ways that people were treated because of how they were dressed. It seems that if a well dressed person, who obviously had money, came in to worship, that person would be shown the best seat in the house. "Come up here and sit right down in the front. Here's a nice comfortable chair. Is there anything we can get for you: a cushion; a footstool; How about a cool glass of water?"

On the other hand, if a poor person, in ragged clothes, came in, they would shove her over in the corner or make her sit on the dirt floor.

It doesn't matter, however, if people are rich or poor, fat or skinny, tall or short, black or white, the principle still applies. We are called to treat people with dignity and respect regardless of who they are or what they look like.

When we look at what's inside of us, we are pretty much alike. We all hurt. We all experience pain. We all love to laugh and feel the support of those around us. We all need to know that we are loved and accepted not only by God but also by one another.

The queen of Sheba came to visit Solomon, and one day she put him to the test. She brought artificial flowers so perfectly formed that no human eye could detect them from real flowers. She put them in a vase on Solomon's table, in his throne room next to his flowers. As he came in, the queen of Sheba is reported to have said, "Solomon, you are the wisest man in the world. Tell me without touching these flowers, which are real and which are artificial." It is said that Solomon studied the flowers for a long time and spoke nothing, until finally he said, "Open the windows and let the bees come in."

 

There are ways to tell the artificial from the real—let the bees come in; they will know where the real is. If we live with the authentic Jesus long enough, we will recognize the real when we see it. (Brooks Ramsey, When Religion Becomes Real)

Jesus came to offer us real life. God picked us first - not because we are better looking or better

dressed than other people. God picked us not based on outward appearance or survival of the fittest. God picked us based on God's grace and mercy. Indeed, God picked us first TO SHOW US HOW TO DO IT. Our task then is to invite others to comes and share in the bountiful feast that God has prepared.

--

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from James 2:1-10, 14-17 on September 6, 2009 at St. John's Presbyterian Church in Houston, Texas.

A Wish for Wisdom

Jesus encouraged us to be as wise as snakes and as gentle as doves. Wisdom. It is a virtue that has gone out of our vocabulary. Wisdom, to acquire it, takes too much time, too many failures, too many hard knocks, too much listening, too much being still and watching. You cannot download wisdom from some third party vender, so we prefer to move and do without. But Paul warns that if we are careless we will miss opportunities. Every day we are bomb barded with choices and wisdom is required to make the most of them.

For example, some people have been having to decide whether to take the $4,500 offered by a government program to trade in their old car and buy a new one. A headline in the New York Times last Thursday tells the bad news: "Despite 'Cash for Clunkers,' Retail Sales Decline in July." In my opinion cars haven't changed enough in the last hundred years and that, in addition to the current recession, may have something to do with their slow sales. As in the early days, cars still need to be repaired.

In the early 1900's automaker Henry Ford asked electrical genius Charlie Steinmetz to build the generators for his factory. One day the generators ground to a halt, and repairmen couldn't find the problem. So Ford called Steinmetz, who tinkered with the machines for a few hours and then threw the switch. The generators whirred to life. Later that week Ford got a bill for $10,000 from Steinmetz. Flabbergasted, the rather tightfisted carmaker inquired why the bill was so high. Steinmetz's replied: For tinkering with the generators, $10. For knowing where to tinker, $9,990. Ford paid the bill.

Steinmetz had what the repairmen lacked-an understanding of how the machines were put together. They had knowledge; he had wisdom. They knew how to repair generators; he knew how to build them. It takes time, and failures, and disappointments to learn how to build something but there are always greater opportunities in being the author.

Instead of doing the hard work of acquiring wisdom, so often we want to take the easy way out. A man is walking down the beach and comes across an old bottle. He picks it up, pulls out the cork and out pops a genie.

The genie says, "Thank you for freeing me from the bottle. In return I will grant you three wishes."

The man says "Great! I always dreamed of this and I know exactly what I want. First, I want one billion dollars in a Swiss bank account." Poof! There is a flash of light and a piece of paper with account numbers appears in his hand. He continues, "Next, I want a brand new red Ferrari right here." Poof! There is a flash of light and a bright red brand-new Ferrari appears right next to him. He continues, "Finally, I want to be irresistible to women." Poof!

There is a flash of light and he turns into a box of chocolates.

The man who gets the wishes in this story is a fool according to Scripture because true wisdom seeks God first -- not cars, money or sexual gratification. Jesus says, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you." The Bible says Solomon was a wise king because he sought God first.

We are to be wise seeking the most of every opportunity. We are to be sober otherwise we will miss many opportunities. And wherever we are, whether making or missing those opportunities, we are to be thankful. As Paul says, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, therein we should be content. It's like the story of the man who goes to his rabbi and complains, "Life is unbearable. There are nine of us living in one room. What can I do?"

The rabbi answers, "Take your goat into the room with you." The man is incredulous, but the rabbi insists. "Do as I say and come back in a week." A week later the man comes back looking more distraught than before. "We cannot stand it," he tells the rabbi. "The goat is filthy."

The rabbi then tells him, "Go home and let the goat out. And come back in a week." A radiant man returns to the rabbi a week later, exclaiming, "Life is beautiful. We enjoy every minute of it now that there's no goat -- only the nine of us."

It's all a matter of perspective isn't it? We can be grateful or we can be bitter. We can seek wisdom or we can live as fools. We can be sober learning what the Lord's will is or we can fill ourselves with wine. What are you looking for in life? Whatever it is I am sure you will find it.

There are two birds that fly over our nation's deserts: One is the hummingbird and the other is the vulture. The vultures find the rotting meat of the desert, because that is what they look for. They thrive on that diet. But hummingbirds ignore the smelly flesh of dead animals. Instead, they look for the colorful blossoms of desert plants. The vultures live on what was. They live on the past. They fill themselves with what is dead and gone. But hummingbirds live on what is. They seek new life. They fill themselves with freshness and life. Each bird finds what it is looking for. We all do.

That is the essence of Paul's teaching: In life, there are two birds. The one bird looks for foolishness and stupidity, the other looks for wisdom. The vultures seek to fill themselves with the rotting flesh of drunkenness and debauchery, the hummingbird sobriety, freshness, and the Spirit. In the desert of this world you have your scavengers who are angry and ungrateful, but you also have those who hum a grateful hymn of thanksgiving. The irony is that you find what you are looking for.

In our Epistle reading this morning from the fifth chapter of Ephesians Paul outlines proper behavior for good living. In our short passage he admonishes his readers to be careful how they live. He is brief and to the point. Three things we must do: Be wise, be sober, and be thankful. It's a short list but if we can orient our daily lives around these three-be wise, be sober, be thankful-we will transform not only our lives but also the lives of our family, friends, church, and neighbors. Before we start transforming others we must transform ourselves by seeking God. (From the sermon "Be Careful How You Live" by Brett Blair et al.)

The beginning of wisdom, the fist step in the wisdom journey, is seeking God. In the words of the Hindu Yogi, Paramanhansa Yogonanda:

Humanity--so variegated in its own eyes!--is seen by a master to be divided into only two classes: ignorant people who are not seeking God, and wise people who are. (Paramahansa Yogonanda, Autobiography of a Yogi, 154)

The wise person seeks God first.

The account of Solomon's experience makes clear that his wisdom was not something that he acquired through his own efforts. Nor was it an innate quality he was born with. Rather, wisdom was given by God upon Solomon's proper response to God's invitation.

The distinctive feature of Christianity is found in our insistence that Jesus Christ is the wisdom of God in a way that no other religious figure ever was or ever will be. As the Apostle Paul wrote in his first letter to the Corinthians:

"... Christ Jesus ... became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption, in order that, as it is written, 'Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.' (1 Cor. 1:30)

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from 1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14 at St. John's Presbyterian Church in Houston on August 16, 2009.

Spiritual Leadership

1 Corinthians 3:1-9

And so, brothers and sisters, I could not speak to you as spiritual people, but rather as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ.

 I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for solid food. Even now you are still not ready, for you are still of the flesh. For as long as there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not of the flesh, and behaving according to human inclinations?

  For when one says, "I belong to Paul," and another, "I belong to Apollos," are you not merely human? What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you came to believe, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.

 So neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. The one who plants and the one who waters have a common purpose, and each will receive wages according to the labor of each.

For we are God's servants, working together; you are God's field, God's building.

Spiritual Leadership

       I'm glad to be back with you this morning after a vacation. My thansks go to those colleagues and leaders who filled the breach in my absence. It's good to be back home. I am excited about what God is doing in this church and glad to be part of it and with God's help and your support I plan be part of God's work here for many years to come.
       Churches and pastors come together, a little awkward at first. Over time, they learn to work together like stage actors and produce a beautiful work for the audience, who is God. Then the pastor leaves and is followed by another pastor. The relationship begins again, awkward at first, and the cycle continues. That's the view from the pastor's side, anyway. Church members may have another view of the process. As a layman who was a faithful church member once remarked: "Preachers come and preachers go - Praise God from whom all blessings flow!"
       So it was that Paul came to the church in Corinth. Paul was probably anxious about how things would work out - his ministry had been cut short in in Thessallonica and Phillipi. But to his profound relief, things worked out well with the church in Corinth and Paul stayed for eighteen months. Paul then left the Corinthian church - he left the stage. And after a period of wondering what came next - a new actor appeared on the stage. His name was Apollos. Apollos started out awkwardly, perhaps, fumbling his way around as he and the church came to know and trust one another. Over time the church in Corinth learned to respect Apollos. Apollos stayed for some time, had an effective ministry there - then exited - stage right. First Paul, then Apollos, like two actors on the stage, came to the church in Corinth, awkward at first, after some time leading the church in performing for God - hit their stride, then left the stage. Even in the early church, some twenty years after Jesus resurrection, preachers came and preachers went - and the church remained.
       The church in Corinth survived both Paul and Apollos. Life continued on - but all was not well in the Corinthian church. Factions arose in the church. The factions were most obvious at celebrations of the Lord's Supper. You see, the rich came early and partied down, the servants always arrived late - after finishing their chores. When the poor servants arrived, all they found were crumbs - no bread. The poor servants were insulted - and rightly so. Divisions arose between rich and poor in the Corinthian church. The divisions burned deep because the one church in Corinth was really a series of small house churches.
Small groups of Christians met together for worship and fellowship in the home of a rich patron of the church. The house churches split over the issue of leadership. Some claimed Paul was their favorite apostle. Others liked Apollos better. The "Paul" group and the "Apollos" group learned to distrust one another. And so it goes. Perhaps you've seen how it works. I sometimes wonder if the conflict in congregations over the pastor is not really a conflict about something else, some deeper struggles for control. For example, consider this conversation from a committee meeting.

"Look, any time you start listing the names of all the people who helped in the project, you run the risk of leaving someone out." The remark was that of a member of the committee planning for the dedication of the new education building at a particular church.

"Well, I still think we ought to recognize those who were shakers and movers in getting this education building built. You know, give them some credit. It can't hurt anything," words from still another member of the committee.

And so it went for a while. "Why recognize anyone in particular?" another one asked. "Why not just give a general thank you to everyone who participated?"

"You know that won't fly with some people," the first speaker responded. "There are some in this congregation who are large contributors, and while some of these folks couldn't care less if they get any credit, others want to know that they are appreciated. Hey, it's just saying 'the Joneses did this' or 'the Smiths did that.' Give credit where credit is due."

"I don't think that's the whole story," another speaker broke in. "Some people like to see their names in print, especially in connection with something they've done for the church."

"So what should we say?" number two speaker asked half seriously, "Jack Thomas was most important to the project because he gave the most? Or that Mrs. Stemple should get top billing...?"

"Well, that's kind of facetious ..." someone started.

"No, I'm serious," the other countered. "Are we going to give credit to specific individuals or families? If so, let's name them. Maybe we should say who we think was the most important to the project. If it were up to me, I'd say don't name anyone."

A woman who had said nothing up to this point now spoke up. "Let's get back on the track of what we're supposed to do," she invited. "This whole business of massaging someone's ego because of what they've done for the church is rather silly, isn't it? And it's certainly not
according to Scripture."

Everyone sat quietly for a moment digesting what she had said. Then she continued, "I'm sure we all realize that in the final analysis God is to be thanked for all the good that has been done in this church. Let's thank God for the wonderful blessings we have. And let's plan
our dedication program." (Lectionary Tales For The Pulpit, Cycle A, Merle G. Franke, CSS
Publishing Company, Inc, 1995, 0-7880-0527-8)

We are actors on the stage and as actors in a production so we have to learn how to work with one another. And to continue the theatre analogy, consider that God is the audience. But sometimes God gets inspired and then God becomes the Director. And sometimes when we actors forget our lines God the Director whispers our lines from backstage. . . "Forgiveness." "Peace." "Hope." But sometimes that is not enough. Sometimes even with the right lines the actors still cannot manage to make the play work. And then God does something wonderful - God becomes an actor, too. God takes the stage name "Jesus Christ" and becomes an actor on the stage of human history. Jesus Christ became human and lived as we live, breathed as we breathe, and died a terrible death. But on the third day he rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and sitteth on the right hand of God the Almighty. From thence, he shall come to judge the quick and the dead. . . The resurrection of Jesus symbolizes that all things are possible . . . even unity among Christians.

       When we are stuck in the pits of life, with boredom, envy, and bitterness on every side . . . When we are flat on our back in a hospital room, staring at the ceiling with an uncertain future. . . when are sitting in church worshipping with people whom we know and love . . . or even mistrust deeply . . . we hear a word. It is a simple word that encompasses all that we dream, think, and imagine. It is one word. We have always heard this word but never understood it. It has always been the first word and it shall also be the last word. And here is that first word: "GOD." If it were up to you and me, we
might not make it, folks. Fortunately, that is not the case. The radical claim of the Christian faith is that Jesus Christ is the spiritual leader of the church. Not you and not me. And the radical claim of Jesus Christ is that with God, all things are possible. So there is hope for you and for me and there is hope for this congregation.

-The Rev. Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon at St. John's Presbyterian Church on August 9, 2009 (OT10B)

Lord Have Mercy

Psalm 123

On this July 4th weekend many Americans journey somewhere even if it is just across town to celebrate with a friend or family member. Soon some of us will make a journey in our cars on vacation. Others of us will journey in our daydreams or by reading a book. Summer is a time for the undertaking of journeys.

The biggest journey I ever undertook was a 21 day pilgrimage to Jordan, Syria, Egypt and Israel in January of 1994. That journey concluded with a three day stay in Jerusalem. I remember riding in the bus up the mountain to Jerusalem -- the city set on a hill. It had been a long journey -- nearly 3 weeks traveling by air, land and water. Finally our seminary tour group was approaching the city that I had dreamed of visiting since my days as a small child in a church school classroom. I remembered the Psalmists' admonition: "Pray for the peace of Jerusalem."

Up ahead I could faintly see the lights of a city up on a hill. We were riding a winding road up to the mountaintop city. The bus seemed to shuffle and snort as it hauled a group of 35 students and faculty from Union Theological Seminary in Virginia and our assorted luggage and dreams and visions up the mountain road to Jerusalem. The bus was heavy with anticipation and so was I.

We arrived in the city just after sunset and unpacked our bags at the Jerusalem Hotel -- a 3 star hotel in the Palestinian section of the city. Our accommodations had been made by Palestinians and our bus drivers and tour guides were all Palestinians. We used Palestinian tour guides because of the connection between the Presbyterian Church (USA) and the Palestinian Christian church. After dinner in the hotel a small group of us set out in the darkness to tour the Old City of Jerusalem. We were led by Dr. Dean McBride, an Old Testament professor at the seminary, who knew his way around town and knew how to speak Hebrew and some Arabic and even a little Aramaic should the need arise. The streets were nearly empty as we followed the small twisting roads paved with stone. On either side of the narrow street were high stone walls or apartment buildings or trade stores such as you may find in a city that is several thousand years old. 

The most striking thing I noticed was the black graffiti on the ancient stone walls. The black graffiti was put there by Palestinian kids or young adults with phrases such as "Death to Israel" and "Palestine will arise" spray painted in black and red and green letters on ancient stone walls. I realized then that I was walking around a city under siege. I knew the country was at war when I had seen a group of several young and middle aged men in camouflage clothes carrying M-16 assault rifles at the Dairy Queen where we stopped shortly after crossing the border from Egypt to Israel. These men were not going deer hunting. They were Israeli settlers and they could use their guns on any Palestinian they encountered and not have to worry too much about the consequences. When I saw the armed settlers in Dairy Queen is when I started praying, "Lord Have Mercy." Lord have mercy on this nation at war. Lord have mercy on this band of pilgrims of which I am a member. Lord have mercy and keep us safe. Lord have mercy. That was my prayer on that journey.

Here in Psalm 123 we have an actual song sung by Jewish pilgrims to Jerusalem some 2500 years ago when they journeyed to Jerusalem. What did they sing as they traveled together? What was the theme of the song? Lord have mercy.

You and I say the same prayer in a myriad of ways every day. For you and I are on a journey to a New Jerusalem. We journey not to the imperfect city of terrorists and military occupation. We journey not to the city torn apart by Palestinians and Jews who struggle for control. We journey not to any earthly city. We journey to the city that the Bible calls the New Jerusalem. The New Jerusalem has many names. Some call it heaven. Some call it the city over Jordan. Some call it the promised land. We are going there. We are on a journey to the New Jerusalem -- the city of God -- Mount Zion -- the New Jerusalem and on this spiritual journey we sing, "Lord, have mercy."

Perhaps the most intriguing thing about Psalm 123 is the similarity in song between every group that is journeying to Jerusalem. Those who are journeying to Jerusalem sing the same prayer whether that prayer be sung in the Hebrew by Jewish pilgrims journeying to Jerusalem 2500 years ago; or sung in English by a seminary group from the United States, or sung by folks in this congregation who are traveling to the New Jerusalem, the song remains the same. What is the song? The song is a simple prayer. It's a heartfelt request. It covers the multitude of situations and complications that people on a journey may encounter. The words to the prayer and the lyrics to the song are simply this: "Lord have mercy." 

Friends, you and I are on a spiritual journey together to the New Jerusalem. As we travel we sing the ancient and modern song of pilgrims: "Lord have mercy." Today, as we celebrate the 4th of July, our prayer for America is this very prayer: "Lord have mercy."

Let's close with the lyrics of Psalm 123 and offer them up as a prayer for our nation.

To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens!

As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master,

as the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress,

so our eyes look to the Lord our God,

until he has mercy upon us.

Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us,

for we have had more than enough of contempt.

Our soul has had more than its fill of the scorn of those who are at ease,

of the contempt of the proud.

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from Psalm 123 at St. John's Presbyterian Church in Houston on July 6, 2003; 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

We Are With You, Lord

Once there was a great teacher by the name of Jesus of Nazareth. He was a real person called "Jesus of Nazareth" because Jesus was his first name and he had grown up in the village of Nazareth. When he became an adult and took on the role of mishal, a wisdom teacher, he made his home in Capernaum, a village on the shore of the Sea of Galilee (Matt 4:13). Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen living in the village. Matthew the tax collector also resided here. Visit Capernaum today and you may still walk through the ruins of the ancient synagogue where Jesus preached. The synagogue made of stone is about half the size of our Fellowship Hall, our original sanctuary. Strange and wonderful things happened in the synagogue in Capernaum.

For instance, once when he was teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum on the Sabbath day, Jesus was confronted by a man with an unclean spirit, who cried out: 'What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.'   Jesus shut him up: "Quiet! Get out of him!" The unclean spirit threw the man into spasms, protesting loudly—and got out. (Mark 1:21-27). They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, 'What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.'      

In this same synagogue in Capernaum Jesus gave a teaching that would send some students packing. Jesus told his students: "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them." Now if this sounds strange to us imagine how weird it must have sounded to his disciples. We are supported by 2000 years of Christian theological about the meaning of the Lord's Supper. We have the Bible and 20/20 hindsight. We know how the story ends. Jesus' disciples had none of these advantages. And some them simply could not believe that this man, Jesus, could be all that he claimed. Things were getting too weird and some of the disciples checked out of the Capernaum hotel and went back to their former lives. 

It must have been a terrible disappointment to Jesus when some of his students left. We wonder how his voice sounded when Jesus asked the twelve disciples, "Do you also wish to go away?" The question driving them away is the question that Christians have had to answer for themselves in every generation: "Who is Jesus really?"

In the modern era, Jesus has been understood from one end of the spectrum to the other, from the sublime to the ridiculous. Some Christians during the Nazi regime in Germany tried to turn Jesus, a Palestinian Jew, into an Aryan superhero. Karl Barth recognized the danger and wrote The Theological Declaration of Barmen as reminder that the true Christ is the one revealed in scripture and not the one Hitler's henchmen were hustling upon the church. More recently, theologians such as Gustavo Gutierrez who labor among the destitute of Latin America have spoken of God's preferential option of the poor and see in Jesus as an ally in the struggle for justice for the poor.

On a more personal level, the essence of the gospel, in the words of Herbert McCabe,

is that if you don't love, you're dead, and if you do, they'll kill you.

If you want a quiet life, a life of peace and contentment, then don't follow Jesus. If you want a secure life, a life lived within the margins of safety, then don't follow Jesus.

If you want a life that is all mapped out, a life you can plan and control, then don't follow Jesus.

From a faith perspective, life's ultimate risk is not to risk anything.

"Who is Jesus to me?" In the final analysis this is a personal question. Each of us must answer the question of whom Jesus will be to us.

A student approached a renowned Buddhist teacher, a father like figure, and said he wanted to explore the great mysteries of the faith. The teacher asked the student to tell him about himself while he made them a cup of green tea. The student began telling about himself and the list of his accomplishments and about his spiritual experiences and as he was talking he noticed the teacher pouring the green tea into a cup. The cup was full but the teacher was still pouring tea so the tea was spilling over the tabletop and onto the floor! The student said, "Teacher, the tea, the tea, the cup is full and you are spilling the tea!"

The wise teacher replied, "Yes, the cup is too full to hold any more tea and so you are too full to hold my teaching. There is no more room in your head." And the student left full of the sad understanding that he was too full of himself to harbor any new instruction.

Move beyond your mind. Venture beyond your ego. That is what the Buddhist teacher was saying to the student when he kept pouring the green tea into a cup that was already full. The student's mind was full. There was nothing the teacher could add to it. The only thing left to fill would have been the student's heart. The student did not understand the teacher and walked away. And we can only imagine the joy he left on the table when he walked out the door.      

Jesus, the divine-human teacher, challenges us to repent, to metanoi, to move beyond our mind, to engage life with the intelligence of our heart. This is not an invitation to a romantic feeling. It is an invitation to an altered consciousness. A new way of seeing the world. To move with the Spirit into a realm of intuitive knowing, the kind of knowing we sometimes feel in our very bones. The kind of heart knowing that Peter had for Jesus. The kind of knowing that goes beyond the knowing of the mind and enters the realm of the heart.

Garrison Keillor, on his "Writer's Almanac" on National Public Radio reminds us that Father's Day goes back "to a Sunday morning in May of 1909, when a woman named Sonora Smart Dodd was sitting in church in Spokane, Washington, listening to a Mother's Day sermon. She thought of her father who had raised her and her siblings after her mother died in childbirth, and she thought that fathers should get recognition, too. So she asked the minister of the church if he would deliver a sermon honoring fathers on her father's birthday, which was coming up in June, and the minister did. And the tradition of Father's Day caught on, though rather slowly. Mother's Day became an official holiday in 1914; Father's Day, not until 1972. Mother's Day is still the busiest day of the year for florists, restaurants and long distance phone companies. Father's Day is the day on which the most collect phone calls are made. Let's make a collect call to our Father God today. He is sitting with cell phone in hand waiting for His phone to ring with a call from you and from me. And when we do call in God will want to know what our intentions are in regard to our relationship with our Father who art in heaven.

Jesus asked his disciples, "Do you also want to leave?" We hardly know how to answer Jesus. Thankfully, Peter speaks for us, saying to Jesus for us: "Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life." We are with you, Lord. We're not always sure where you are leading us but we are with you. We are not sure what you are trying to do in us but we are with you, Lord. We are not sure what you are trying to do through us but we are with you, Lord. Even so, Lord, stay with us. Abide with us. Show us the way and we will follow you — one day at a time — always living in the now — into a new way of perceiving God, ourselves and the world. Then we will open our minds and open our hearts and open our mouths and join with both Simon Peter and the demon possessed man whom Jesus cured in the synagogue in Capernaum, confessing to Jesus, "We have come to know that you ... are the Holy One of God."

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon on John 6:56-69

at St. John's Presbyterian Church on June 21, 2009

Love Trumps Fear

Psalm 111

Praise the Lord! I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart, in the company of the upright, in the congregation.

Great are the works of the Lord, studied by all who delight in them.

Full of honor and majesty is his work, and his righteousness endures forever.

He has gained renown by his wonderful deeds; the Lord is gracious and merciful.

He provides food for those who fear him; he is ever mindful of his covenant.

He has shown his people the power of his works, in giving them the heritage of the nations.

The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy.

They are established forever and ever, to be performed with faithfulness and uprightness.

He sent redemption to his people; he has commanded his covenant forever. Holy and awesome is his name.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; all those who practice it have a good understanding. His praise endures forever.

We know plenty about fear and all of it is bad. Fear has a profoundly negative effect on our world. So how strange it sounds to our ears when we hear from the Psalmist: "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom." That sense of dissonance begins to disappear when we learn that the term "fear of the Lord" is a technical term that means we are to "respect" and admire and feel a positive attraction, a fascination, for God.

A positive attractive to the Lord was the drawing card for a woman with an illness that made her bleed. She came seeking help from Jesus. When she found him he was surrounded by a large crowd. The woman's desire to be healed was so strong that she touched his garment and she was healed. The garment of the Lord is an allegory for the liturgy that surrounds the Lord in our worship. We approach the Lord with desire and through our worship liturgy we are able to touch the Lord and so be healed. Rather than discouraging us, the Lord cheerfully invites us to come, saying, "Come unto me all you who are weary and I will give you rest." Our healing comes from the Lord. We can touch the Lord's garment through our hymns, our prayers, and our affirmations of faith. We can touch the Lord's garment and we can be healed. The "fear of the Lord" refers to our desire to touch the Lord and to be healed. We praise God in the church and it is in the worshipping community among the people of God that we learn that love trumps fear. We learn that love transcends fear by studying the works of God, by touching the Lord in our liturgy and in our relationships with God's people.

We seek a relationship to the Lord because, like the Psalmist, we too are fascinated by the works of the Lord, God's wonderful deeds. We sing with the psalmist about the wonderful works of our gracious and merciful Lord. The Lord provides for our physical needs and keeps covenant with us. God shows us the power of God's works. The works of God's hands are faithful and just; they are trustworthy. They are established forever and ever, performed with faithfulness and uprightness. God sent redemption to God's people, God commanded God's covenant forever. Again and again, the Psalmist reminds us of God's faithfulness to the covenant. Then we get the final thought and it sounds out of touch with what we have just heard: "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." Joan Chittister defines "fear of the lord" as "holy astonishment, complete wonder and awe at what God does in my life and the life of everyone around me."

I had a sense of wonder and awe as I arrived in a basement room at Sacred Heart Monastery on the first day of a centering prayer retreat this Summer. There were 22 ecumenical retreatants and only four of us were ordained ministers. Centering prayer is a prayer of profound silence and silence is what we all expected as we sat in a large circle and began our first 20 minute prayer session together. But the silence was rudely interrupted shortly after we began when someone quickly scraped their sandaled feet against in a sound that solicited a similar response as someone scratching their fingernails down a chalkboard. I had to take a peek and see who it was and was surprised to see it was one of the ministers in the group. He looked like Walter Mattheau and breathed like Darth Vader. The next several days required each of us to learn to deal with the distraction of the loud prayer in our midst. Some of us wanted to kick him out of the retreat. He was that distracting. Others, including the retreat leader, insisted we must let him continue with us because he was in a fragile emotional state as he was grieving the recent death of a close friend. In the end, the Walter Mattheau slash Darth Vader minister stayed and by the end of the retreat was an accepted part of the group. As I think back on that retreat I realize that each of the retreatants in effect made a covenant with one another before the retreat that no matter who showed up we would accept them and pray with them. In the end, some of us may have lost some quality prayer time but we kept our unspoken covenant with one another.

In the Presbyterian Church we make a more formal covenant that includes vows taken in a public worship service. It happens each year when we install elders and deacons. As part of that ritual the church officers take vows. I took similar vows when I became an ordained minister in 1994. One of the vows taken by deacons, elders and ministers is a vow to remain faithful to the Presbyterian Church (USA), the denomination into which we are ordained. We make these vows in front of God and this congregation. Beware of any minister, elder, deacon or church member who encourages you to consider breaking your vows to this denomination. As for me, I have no desire or intention of breaking the vows I made to the PC(USA). I am not interested in serving with church officers who entertain the notion of breaking the vows they have made.

This is why I am so pleased that our church officers have not gotten caught up in the latest round of hand wringing and big talk that predictably followed the last meeting of the General Assembly. Such talk distracts us from the mission of our church which is to be an inclusive church that is constantly opening our hearts to new members and to new ways of serving Christ together in this community.

Unfortunately, there are a few congregations in our presbytery who have been led astray by their pastors and who are now facing painful divisions within their fellowship. I will never lead this congregation toward division. I will never lead this congregation to break the vows we have made to the Presbyterian Church (USA). I will never do this because I have too much respect for God, for you and for myself. Such respect is one characteristic of "the fear of the Lord" that is the beginning of wisdom.

God never gives up on us and we should never give up on one another. The demands of love are rigorous. There is no question that by taking vows to remain faithful to a particular denomination we are restricting ourselves. Love is about restrictions. When we make marriage vows we are restricting ourselves as well. We are saying, "This one and no other." Love makes stringent demands and offers lots of opportunity for the hard work of patience, endurance and forbearance.

Mutual forbearance is characteristic of the Presbyterian tradition. Mutual forbearance means we stick it out with one another even during times of disagreement or turmoil. Mutual forbearance means we focus on the 80% of things we agree upon instead of the 20% of things we don't agree upon. Our disagreements in the Presbyterian Church, the 20% on which we are conflicted, are not essential matters. We believe in the sovereignty of God. We believe in the Lordship of Jesus Christ. These are essentials. On these we agree. That is what matters. The other 20%, the non essentials upon which we disagree, these call for mutual forbearance.

I resonate with Paul's vision for the church in Ephesians 5:18-20 where he writes, "Be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts; giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." That is what we are doing today and what we do each Sunday when we gather for worship. One of our elders at the last Session meeting shared an idea he got when he had several out of town family members here for the baptism of his granddaughter. He suggested we make a CD of our choir and sale it and give the money to the youth group. These are the kinds of positive ideas we can build on.

My vision for St. John's Presbyterian Church is nothing fancy or glamorous. I envision a future of singing together, giving thanks to God and working together with respect for one another and for God. Let's keep the covenant we have made. Let's bear with one another. As the Psalmist so eloquently puts it: "Praise the LORD! I will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart, in the company of the upright, in the congregation." We praise the Lord with all our heart in the congregation. That is enough for the Psalmist and that is enough for us as well.

-Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from Psalm 111 on June 14, 2009 at St. John's Presbyterian Church

Resurrection Life

Resurrection, El Greco, 1584-94. CGFA.

A rich official approached Jesus one day and asked what he had to do in order to follow him. One may imagine Jesus' disciples feeling flattered that a rich official wanted to know how to join their cause. Judas, as the money manager of the group, must have been delighted at the prospect. So imagine the disciples feelings when Jesus told the rich official, "Sell everything you have and give the money to the poor then come and follow me." The disciples, dumbfounded, may have looked at one another with bulging eyes of disbelief. Not surprisingly, the rich official deferred from such a demanding offer. The price was too high. (Cf. Luke 18:18-30)

Perhaps the rich official was like that ultimate American icon, a self-made man. Perhaps he'd made his money the old-fashioned way - he'd earned it. We don't know how he got his wealth for the Bible doesn't say. The Bible does say the man was morally pure. Yet the issue between the rich official and Jesus went deeper even than money or morality. The issue went as deep as the mystery of a joyous God who offers resurrection life to any who are willing to give up everything to obtain it.

To paraphrase what Jesus told his disciples before sending them out as missionaries around the countryside, "If you can't fit it in a backpack don't take it with you." Jesus put this requirement on the front end of the deal in his encounter with the rich official. Jesus welcomed the rich official provided he packed light.

The problem for the rich official and for each of us is our difficulty in letting go of those things that are most valuable to us. If you've recently moved, you know what I mean. There are precious memories associated with our possessions. We have invested ourselves in personal effects. We face a similar challenge when we have to clean out the house of a parent of relative who has died. We are reluctant to be parted from that special chest of drawers in the master bedroom – the one our grandmother gave us. Physical objects help us feel planted securely in the soil of a particular place.

We all share a human need for shelter and a sense of being loved. We seek security in our investments whether they be financial, physical or spiritual. We crave security especially in our relationships. The blessing and tragedy of family life is the unconditional love we sometimes experience and the love we sometimes lose. Our deep need for love goes beyond reason into our very subconsciousness and it is at that deeper level where Jesus meets us. Jesus meets us at the level of our deepest needs for security and unconditional love.

In the sacrament of baptism we enact our need for supportive relationships and God's unconditional love for us. The baptismal ritual reminds us of the give and take of Christian discipleship. Recall these questions for the baptismal candidate.

Do you renounce all evil,

and powers in the world

which defy God's righteousness and love?

I renounce them.

Do you renounce the ways of sin

that separate you from the love of God?

I renounce them.

Do you turn to Jesus Christ

and accept him as your Lord and Savior?

I do.

Will you be Christ's faithful disciple,

obeying his Word and showing his love,

to your life's end?

I will, with God's help.

In our baptismal ritual we enact the challenge Jesus presented to the rich official. The rich official was denied discipleship because he was unwilling to make the necessary renunciations. We all face the choice Jesus gave the rich official. This choice is incorporated into our baptismal liturgy. We say "Yes" to Christ only after saying "No" to the old way of life. Resurrection life comes after death to the old way of life.

The Apostle Paul understood this concept. In our text for today, Paul's letter, as translated by Eugene Peterson, reads, "So don't you see that we don't owe this old do-it-yourself life one red cent. There's nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life. God's Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go!" Paul calls our new life in Christ "resurrection life." Resurrection life is what Jesus offered the rich official and resurrection life is what Jesus offers us. And we take it! We take this resurrection life like a poor beggar grabs a $100 bill. We are desperate for a deep experience of God. We are as ready to journey with God into resurrection life as a small child is ready to go on vacation to Disneyland with Mommy and Daddy.

Yet, even in Disneyworld, all is not fun and games. It is hot and humid in Orlando in the Summer and in the Magic Kingdom even a ham sandwich for lunch costs nearly ten dollars. Resurrection life is not constant parades with Mickey and Minnie. Resurrection life is the daily decisions that come so fast we hardly have time to think. Hard choices. Costly choices. Resurrection life is paying our pledge to Christ's church when we'd rather upgrade to a smart phone or buy a high definition television.

Resurrection life is not all miracles and glory and it never goes on sale at 40% off. Resurrection life is being patient with tedious people and loving those whom we consider unworthy of our affection. Resurrection life is being open to the Spirit and ready to roll whenever and wherever God leads. As Jesus demonstrated in his challenge to the rich official, the price of admission to resurrection life is extraordinarily high. Renunciations come before profession. Good Friday comes before Easter Sunday. Crucifixion comes before resurrection.

Scott Libby, a traveling minister for a Presbyterian church in Iowa, was to preach for a vacationing minister one Sunday. He decided to get to church early and become familiar with the order of service. Going down the hall, he passed the nursery and saw one child there all by himself. He paused a minute and the child said, "Hi, my name is Tommy."

Dr. Libby replied, "My name is Scott."

Tommy said, "I'm all by myself in this big room."

Dr. Libby repeated, "So you are all by yourself in this big room?"

"Yes," said Tommy, "and I'm lonesome."

"Well, I'm sure somebody will come shortly and be with you, Tommy."

With this, Tommy pulled up to his full stature, looked Dr. Scott in the eye and asked, "What about you?"

Well, what about us? What about you? What about me? We may have only one talent, we may be only one note on God's musical scale, but without us the music will not sound right, the job will not be done well. (On Living Before You Die, Edward Inabet, ChristianGlobe Networks, Inc.)

Jesus challenges us to give up whatever holds us back from living the resurrection life. Pray about this and see if the Spirit shows you the price of discipleship in your own walk with Christ. Count the cost. Run the numbers. You may find that resurrection life is worth the investment. As Paul reminds us, we go through exactly what Christ goes through. The agony of the cross precedes the glory of the resurrection life. If we go through the hard times with him, then we're certainly going to go through the good times with him! With God's help, we will get what's coming to us -- an unbelievable inheritance.

Resurrection life is not cheap but it is available right now. Let's live the resurrection life today. You see, resurrection life does not begin in the sweet by and by when we meet on that beautiful shore. Resurrection life begins right now, today, in the present moment and in each moment of our lives.

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from Romans 8:12-17

at St. John's Presbyterian Church on Trinity Sunday, June 7, 2009

Acts 2:1-8 (NRSV)

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting.Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each.Amazed and astonished, they asked, "Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?

Spirit Signs

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon from Acts 2:1-8

at St. John's Presbyterian Church in Houston on Pentecost Sunday, May 31, 2009

There used to be this concept called "family time." Many children today are being raised in families who do not know the meaning of "family time."

 

Traveling down an interstate on a long car trip used to be good "family time." Anybody remember "The Alphabet Game" where kids and grown-ups could work their way from A to Z by getting the letters off the highway signs? Did any of your families sing together those awful camp songs that have a hundred verses? At the very least the back seat could go to war with the front seat and the jump seats. Fights over what music the whole family had to listen to; explanations as to the answer to the question "Are we there yet?" every two miles—that was the stuff family trips were made of.

 

Then came the Walkman. Then came built-in DVD players. Now a long-distance trip with a car full of children can be the quietest, most solo experience a parent can have.

-One child is plugged into their iPod, moving to a beat no one else can hear.
-Another passenger is playing a video game—-eyes and ears focused on a scenario that has nothing to do with what is outside the windows.
-Texting on a cell phone while plugged into an MP3 player keeps hands, eyes, and ears connected to friends who are far away, and keeps the rest of the family in the car completely distant.
 

Try pointing out a funny sign, a beautiful sight, or just asking a question, next time you are the only un-plugged one in the car. See how much response you get. The car might be pulsing with music, video games, cell phone conversations, and movies. But the car hums with nothing but a hush.

 

There are two ways to know if things are going well—in your world–-be it your family, your home, your office, your church, your community.

 

1) If things are going well there is a lot of peace and quiet.

2) If things are going well there is a lot of noise and commotion.

 

Within both the noise and the silence there are the reassuring sounds of community and connection.

 

In a life of faith there are both days of din and days that are dampered. In a life of faith God appears to us in both the rushing mighty wind and in the still small voice. In song and in silence, in coming together and going apart, in private meditation and in public prayer—-you can hear the voice of God.

 

The God who grandstanded as a pillar of fire by night and a cloud of smoke by day to the Israelites, also hid out in the "still small voice" that spoke to praying prophets. Jesus spoke to the multitudes, preached to huge crowds, prayed thankfully for food he did not yet have before thousands. But Jesus also wandered into the wilderness, climbed up mountaintops, took stormy sea voyages, just to get away from the noise and the needs of the crowds pressing in on him. Like Jesus, we all need to "come a-part" so we don't' "come apart."

 

Leonard Sweet points out how the spiritual soundings and Spiritual silence—-the Holy Hoopla and the Holy Hush—are both part of our connection to divine presence and purpose in a sermon called "Are You Pentecost?" This morning's story of Pentecost is the story of stunned, bewildered disciples who re-grouped and waited in Jerusalem for the "whatever" that Jesus had promised would come their way.

 

Who knows what the disciples envisioned the promised Spirit would bring to them?

 

Perhaps they hoped for super-hero powers.

Perhaps they dreamed of the perpetual presence of cherubim and seraphim or some other such heavenly creatures.

Perhaps they prayed for some sort of spiritual military mobilization.

 

So what is it that the disciples finally got? Well, the Big Gift was the Holy Spirit, and with that Big Gift came a lot of other gifts. But how did the Gift of the Holy Spirit come to them?

 

On this Day of Pentecost, Jesus' disciples received the gift of sound.

 

Who would have thought?!

 

First, this was a sound that filled the house in which they were gathered together. This sound, like that of a rushing wind, filled the space between each other where they stood. Next the sound filled the space between their ears. Then the sound filled them up. Finally, this sound poured forth.

 

When the sound poured forth it took the form not of exploding bombs, whirring rockets, or roaring tanks. This sound took the form of language, the sound of communication, intelligible words, directed out to all the world. There was rush of wind–type sound. There was a rush of words, of multi-lingual confessions and extrapolations upon "God's deeds of power" (v.11).

 

Yet despite all this "rush," there was a clear and present "hush."  There was the hushing of the disciples' anxieties. There was the hushing of the petty, personal agendas that still drove these disciples. There was the hushing of doubt, filled to over-flowing but blown over by the rush of a Holy Spirit so loud and exuberant that it attracted the attention of the crowds in the streets. The healing, "hushing" of the Spirit became a rush of new words of wisdom that poured out of these once-timid disciples.

 

Presbyterians get a chance to experience how the disciples may have felt on that first day of Pentecost during the opening worship service of a General Assembly meeting. I have attended three of these worship services and found them to be full of spirit signs. As you look down to the ground level from high your seat high up in a coliseum, first come the liturgical dancers waving batons with long red streamers to signify the entrance of the Holy Spirit. Then comes the multitude of banner bearers with a banner from each presbytery across the United States. These are followed by many ministers of Word and Sacrament in their various robes and stoles and elder representatives who will be serving the sacrament of the Lord's Supper during the service. The coliseum of worshipers pray aloud the prayer of confession and this is followed by a prolonged, hushed silence. After the scripture readings, someone stands near the preacher and interprets the sermon in sign language for the hearing impaired. The highlight of the service comes after the sermon when a host of missionaries who will be commissioned to service all over the world, taking the message of the Spirit to the people in their own language. The visual and auditory signs of the opening worship service of the Assembly reinforce the theme of diversity and inclusiveness, a priority for our denomination and a sign of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost.

 

The rush and the hush—-both were gifted to the disciples on the day of Pentecost. The parting of the Red Sea, the breath that raised the dry bones, the power that blew the trumpets and brought down the walls of Jericho: combined with the still, small voice, the nine month silence of Zechariah, the private mountain top meditations of Jesus. Some things are too glorious to keep silent about. Some things are too wondrous to mention. The RUSH and the HUSH are both Spirit signs. In fact, when you are living in the Spirit, the times of greatest rush can be the times of greatest hush.

 

Here is the promise of Pentecost: Can you live this promise?

 

"Rush hour" can be "hush hour"-–if you let the Holy Spirit in.

"Family Frenzy" can become "Family Fun"—if you let the Holy Spirit in.

"Off-line, "out-of-service," "unplugged," annoying electronic glitches can become "on-line," "quality-service," "plugged into God's power source," personal commitments—if you let the Holy Spirit in.

 

The disciples, waiting for a miracle to receive . . . sound that becomes silence, a holy rush that becomes a holy hush, a brassy, brazen message that is at the same time a calm, delicate mystery.

 

What a heart-stopping "rush, what a heart-filling "hush" Pentecost was . . . and is.

 

The Spirit of God wants to flood your soul with whatever it needs this Pentecost morning . . . .

 

-do you need to feel the rush?

-do you need to feel the hush?

-do you sense the spirit signs?

It's yours.

--

This sermon is adapted from a sermon by Leonard Sweet called "Are You Pentecost?"

Our Connectional Church

Ephesians 1:15-23

I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers. I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

Our Connectional Church

Dr. Jon Burnham preached this sermon at St. John's Presbyterian Church on May 24, 2009

Thomas Long tells about one cool September night at Yankee Stadium in New York, when a foul ball was hit into the lower left field stands. It was heading right toward a boy of about nine who had obviously come to the game that night hoping for just such a moment. He had a pair of cheap binoculars around his neck and was wearing an oversized Yankees cap and a small Little League glove which had the hardly-broken-in look of a mitt worn by a kid you let play right field in the late innings of hopeless games.

The foul ball was arching directly toward this boy's outstretched hand, but suddenly, a man of about 35 wearing an expensive knit shirt and horn-rimmed glasses reached over the boy, jostling him aside, and caught the ball. In the jostle, the plastic binoculars were broken, and the boy, despite his mother's comfort, was clearly crushed. Everybody in the left field stands had seen this, and, after a second or two of stunned silence, someone shouted, "Give the kid the ball!" Then another cried, "Give the kid the ball!" A couple of rows joined in unison, "Give the kid the ball!"

Horn Rims shook his head and put the ball in his pocket. That inflamed the whole left field crowd, and with one voice they took up the chant, "Give the kid the ball!" It spread to the center field stands, then to right field, until the whole outfield, including people who did not even know the story, were shouting, "Give the kid the ball!" Players began to glance up from the field to the stands to see what was going on.

Horn Rims remained stubbornly firm. Finally, a man got up out of his seat, walked over to Horn Rims and spoke some words patiently and gently to him. Horn Rims hesitated, then reached into his pocket and handed the ball to the kid. "He gave the kid the ball!" someone exclaimed. Then the whole stands thundered, "He gave the kid the ball!" Applause rippled around the stadium.

Then an even more strange thing began to happen. When another foul ball landed in the left field stands, the man who caught it walked over to Horn Rims and gave it to him. Horn Rims, incredulously, thanked him and took it. The next foul ball was caught by a man in a muscle shirt who was sporting a Fu Manchu mustache. He turned and tossed the ball to the kid, who, to everyone's delight and surprise, caught it. More enthusiastic applause from the crowd, who had come that night to see a baseball game but witnessed instead a city parable about justice and grace.

The city is also a parable of human community. It is in the city that we learn best that everyone is not just like we are. Indeed, it was in the city that the disciples learned that the community of Jesus Christ is broader than we imagined. (Thomas G. Long, Whispering the Lyrics, CSS Publishing)

That sense of connection to the broader world is commended in our sermon scripture this morning. There we read: “I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers.” The love toward all the saints is one of the foundational principles of the Presbyterian Church. It is at the root of the nature of our connectional church.

We are a connectional church in the way we are connected to the Bible. As Presbyterians, we trace our heritage all the way back to Adam and Eve by virtue of our connection to the Bible which is God's word to us. In the stories of the Bible we find our own story. We recognize ourselves in the faith that Abraham and Sarah demonstrated when they left everything they knew to go to a new land God had promised them. Centuries later our spiritual ancestors would leave all they knew in Scotland to travel to a New World called America and establish there the Presbyterian Church.

Gardner Taylor reminds us of how the Bible has a way of connecting to us in every stage of our lives. A young woman reporter has written in a Texas paper of a sudden and serious illness which put her in the hospital for an unforgettable period in her life. She reported that she had always been well groomed, every strand of hair in place, the makeup just right, her body hygiene beyond question, and her nails carefully manicured. And then the hospital: first, there was the indignity of not being on her own. Then her privacy was invaded constantly, and her most intimate bodily functions became semipublic events. The hair could no longer be carefully kept, baths could no be had on whim, and things went sharply downhill. Writing about her experience, this young woman reporter commented on how radically our situation can change, and how our carefully protected beauty, meaning attractiveness, and delightfulness, can be snatched away so quickly.

Along that line, the Bible is not silent. It looks at our human condition in the days of our youthful energy and our early attractiveness. It watches us as we come to the fullness of our vital powers. In the full strength and force of our manhood and womanhood, it smiles at us as we flex our muscles while we carry the loads of life almost casually. The Bible continues to look on us when the first uncertainty as to our permanence and strength brushes up against us ever so slightly. Nothing to be alarmed about, we think, just some quirk, a passing reaction nothing to it.

This old Book does not take its eyes off us and sees us with the early energy reduced, the attractive features marred by lines of care, and the eyes darkened by circles of worry. It pronounces the words upon the departure of our beauty and strength. [Gardner C. Taylor, Edward L. Taylor, compiler, The Words of Gardner Taylor-Sermons From The Middle Years 1970-1980, Vol. 2 (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 2000), Pp. 43, 44.]

On this Memorial Day weekend when we remember those who have died in service to our country, we acknowledge the reality of death. Death completes the cycle of our faith that begins with our baptism. Baptism marks our entrance in the church universal. And our baptism is not merely into a particular congregation but into the body of Christ in the church universal. As Christians we are part of the church universal—the church of all times and places. We are part of the church in Palestine in the year 25 A.D. We are part of the church in India in the year 1200 A.D. We are part of the church in Iraq in 2009. This abstract concept of the body of Christ was brought home to me through a story someone told me several years ago.

Former PC(USA) Moderator, Ken Hall, tells a fascinating story about being in a Christian church in Baghdad, Iraq one Sunday. As he looked around the sanctuary there he was startled to see hanging on the wall a Presbyterian Cross. Presbyterian missionaries had played a role in the establishment of that congregation many years ago and today a Presbyterian Cross hangs on the wall in that Christian church in Baghdad as a powerful image of the connectional nature of our church. Presbyterians have a rich history of missionary work and our mission work has born fruit even in Baghdad, Iraq. The missionary work of the PC(USA) has also born fruit in Africa and our congregation is blessed to have some of that fruit in our congregation.

By virtue of our baptism we belong to a connectional church. We are connected to St. John's Presbyterian Church by friends and family. We are connected through our Session to the Presbytery of New Covenant. We are connected through the Presbytery of New Covenant to the Synod of the Sun and the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA). And we are connected through the Presbyterian Church (USA) to the church universal. All these connections lead to one source, Jesus Christ, who is the head of the church universal. Thanks be to God for our connectional church. May it continue to nurture our faith in Christ, enhance our love for one another, and energize our service of Christ in the world.