Healing in the Wilderness

John 3:14-21
14And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 17“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. 18Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. 19And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. 20For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. 21But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

Healing in the Wilderness

The ancient Hebrew people had a cleansing ritual for anyone who had gone through a soul changing event. The soul-changing events included such life events as menstruation, sex, giving birth, and observing death (http://www.shalomctr.org/node/275). To the Hebrew people, those who engaged in any of these soul-changing events would become inwardly focused. Thus, to re-engage with the community, to set their sites on something other than themselves, a ritual had to be performed. In the case of touching or observing one who had died, the one wishing to be restored to community was asked to make a red sacrifice. The sacrifice was to be made of a red cow with red blood so that the priest making the sacrifice would stare intently at the red, then close his eyes and see the color green as the mind reversed colors. (expound) Green was the sign of life – growth, newness. The idea was that as the sacrifice burned and the red smoke billowed, the individual was moved from inward focus (blood) to an outward focus on the community (life).

Today’s stories ask us to blink, to move our eyes from our internal pain to the Source of our external healing. A few weeks ago I had the stomach flu and I found myself extremely inwardly focused. All I could think about was the nausea – I could not interact with family or anyone else because I was immersed in myself – in my own pain, in my own body. The only thing that offered me any comfort, that could separate me out from my body, was the coolness of a wet washcloth on my head that forced me to look up, to breathe, to blink. And as I looked up, I was healed, able to take the focus off of my own pain and consider, instead, that there was life outside of my illness – that eventually I would emerge whole and be restored to the community of my family and my life.

The Hebrew people were dying, one by one, as snakes bit them and forced them into an internal focus. Granted, they had been internally focused before the snakes bit them – they had whined and belly-ached in the wilderness about the many ways God had failed them – they were already separating themselves from the community before the snakes started biting. But it was the snake bite that made the people ask for a ritual. It was the snake bite that made them demand of Moses that he talk to God and that God please save them. And it was the image of the snake held high that caused them to blink, that caused them to live.

In the wilderness, those dying from snakes looked up to a greater snake and were healed. A little bit idolatrous, except that we realize it helped people look up, to remove their fear of their own death and to, instead, experience the hope of God. Upon staring at the very thing that was killing them, they could blink and call forth a greater snake to heal them. We who are dying from our humanity – from the drone of sin that complicates our lives, that distracts us from what’s really important, can stare at the very thing that is killing us – our humanity – and recognize instead a greater human – one unafraid to be filled with the fullness of God – to heal us. It is not the cross itself, the instrument of torture, that becomes our saving grace, but Jesus Christ – God in flesh – who replaces the serpent held high for the Israelites.

It’s interesting that in Jesus’ discussion with Nicodemus, the very one who asks, “How can I be born again?” we also get the reference to the story in Numbers. 14And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

In our context we understand that Jesus was lifted up on a cross as a spectacle for people to look upon. And often, when we hear the passion narrative, we look at the cross and start to feel ill much as we would if we had stared at a red sacrifice – we see a man in anguish and pain, unjustly murdered before our eyes, struggling with all he was to breathe, to live – and we hear the gruesome details of his death. But today’s scripture asks us to look at the man dying on the cross in all of its’ gruesome and gory details, and to blink, to see the reversal our mind allows us turning the red into green, into life, for only then we will be made well – to be restored to complete health. We are asked to look at the Son of Man and receive eternal life. With eyes weakened from the drug of venomous sin, we can look up, and receive eternal life.

Just as God, frustrated by the Israelites’ complaining, provided the means by which they could be healed, so God, saddened by our sinfulness, provided the means by which we could be made whole. In both cases, God loves. God loved the Israelites so much that God removed the sting of those very snakes God placed in their paths. God loved the world so much that God removed the punishment for the sin that separates us from God. God loved. And God still loves.
The words of John 3:16 are taught to us from the time we can memorize, and why? Because there is something very raw in there – a love for you and for me that is so strong that God was willing to give up God’s very self so that we would make it. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is about love – more love than you or I could ever even imagine on our own. It is the love of God that is able to refocus us – that is able to take away our inward wallowing and help us to blink, so that we can see that life is not just about us, but rather about God in community, about God working through us in community.

John 3:16 reveals to us the heart of the gospel – For God so loved the world . . . . It is this love that we are called to share with our neighbors, with our friends, with our acquaintances. The A-team is trying to teach us how easy it is to share God’s love, but also how vital it is to share God’s love. It’s easy because if we ourselves have looked up and believed in Jesus Christ ourselves, we can’t help but share what happened to us – how we were changed when we removed the focus from ourselves. And it is so vital to share God’s love because people are dying. Every one of us will agree that this world needs changing. Things are ugly out there! Metaphorical snakes are biting everywhere, forcing people to look out only for themselves and even making us focus on our own survival. But God wants to heal, to refocus minds and hearts on life; God wants us to look up. As long as we are inwardly focused, we will always be dissatisfied by the fact that no one else seems to want to live in the light. But when we look up, when we believe that Jesus can get us out of this self-focused angst, we will be healed and as such we will be able to help others look up and believe. There is healing in the wilderness

When one faces death, you can be changed or you can be paralyzed. You can call forth something more powerful or you can let the poison kill you. There is a story about a woman who, in Auschwitz, was standing in line at the gas chambers. The woman in front of her began screaming as the line got shorter and shorter – her fear was tangible. But the woman, facing the same immanent death, turned to the fear-filled woman and held her close, offering care and compassion that caused the fear-filled woman to blink, and to face her death, instead, peacefully, surrounded by the love of God in her neighbor. Our body can be harmed, but they can’t touch our spirit. May we, no matter how difficult life may be at the moment, choose to share God’s love in community so that others will look up and be healed. Amen.

Clean House and Come On In!

John 2:13-25
13The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. 15Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” 17His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” 18The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” 19Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” 20The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” 21But he was speaking of the temple of his body. 22After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

Clean House and Come On In!

I don’t know if your family had this rule or not, but when I was growing up it went something like this: “Before anyone can come over, the house must be picked up.” “Picked up” meant that everything was in its right place. The beds were made. The dishes were done. The floors were vacuumed. And the halls were swept. The house where I grew up was quite large so there was plenty of room to store our junk so that it was out of the way when guests came. My Mother was smart enough to suggest that the Barbie’s house was simply shelves in a closet that could be simply closed up when company came. Cleaning up was no one’s favorite chore, but for friends to come over, we engaged in its necessity.

We have the same rule at my house now – no one comes in unless the house is cleaned up. However, the house I live in today is much smaller than the house where I grew up. There is not nearly as much room to store all of the “stuff” that seems to creep into our living space everyday. But I LIKE a clean house. And my girls would really like to have friends over some time. So I began to clean. I scoured the sink and scrubbed the counters. I got rid of the sticky patches that I found on the table. I swept up the crumbs and filled up the trash can with junk mail that was still sitting around. I dusted the TV and polished the piano. And just as I started feeling pretty good about what I had accomplished, I decided to look at my clean house through the eyes of a guest, to see if they would also appreciate my hard work. Do you know what I saw? Not clean counters or a polished piano, but boxes piled with keepsakes in the corner because I hadn’t made room for them yet. I saw art supplies spilling out of our craft closet because the closet was full. I saw handprints on the glass doors to the lanai. I saw that even though I thought I cleaned my house, things still weren’t cleaned up.

Jesus traveled to Jerusalem for the Passover, joining people coming from all over. For Passover you were supposed to bring an unblemished sacrifice to atone for your sins. Remember that Old Testament story where Moses asked everyone to kill the unblemished lamb and place the blood over their door so that the angel of death would pass over them, sparing their first born? The Passover is the Jewish ritual of remembering God’s faithfulness to the Israelites at a crucial time in their history. People traveled to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover, to celebrate God’s faithfulness. But it is awfully hard to travel a long distance with an unblemished animal for your sacrifice. Animals got bruised and tired and hungry and worn. So the temple had come up with a plan to help – they would provide unblemished animals for people to buy as their sacrifices. The animals could remain at home, without blemish.

There was more to it, of course. They realized that travelers would have only the money of the Roman Empire. The money that people carried had Caesar’s face on it, thus it was considered idolatry to carry this coin into the house of God. So the temple set up tables where people could exchange their idols for temple coins so that they could enter the temple as faithful servants of the Most High God and make a pure sacrifice for Passover. The temple leaders thought they were doing the right thing – helping people come to God by having everything set up for them. They thought it was a good thing to help people get rid of their idols when they entered the temple. They thought it was a good thing to offer unblemished sacrifices for the people to have, saving their own animals the possibility of becoming blemished on the long journeys to the temple. But Jesus didn’t think it was a good thing.

Jesus turns over the tables and pours out the idol money and the temple money, pointing out the boxes that are still piled high in the corner and the crafts that are spilling out of the too-full closet. Jesus rants and raves because the handprints are still on the glass doors. Jesus takes out a whip and lets all of the unblemished sacrifices run loose! Jesus sees things for what they are – a mess, a shambles, a marketplace. And Jesus asks, “Did you really think you were doing a good thing?! Did you really think this place was cleaned up?”

Now if a man came in here, ranting and raving about something that was commonplace to us, something that had been rightly approved by the session and accepted by the congregation, would we listen to him? No! We would get on the phone with 911 and have a police officer out here in no time flat.

But the Jewish leaders listened to Jesus. I wonder why. Maybe it was because something that he said resonated with them. Maybe it was because they too felt that something was out of place. Maybe it was because they could see the boxes that were piled high in the corners, the crafts spilling out of the too-full closet and the fingerprints on the lanai door. Maybe it was because they thought that perhaps Jesus was right.

So the Jewish leaders asked Jesus to tell them why they should believe him. And he made this crazy comment about tearing the temple down and rebuilding it in three days, a comment that his disciples began to understand only later, after his death and resurrection. Only upon later reflection did the disciples understand that Jesus was talking about his own body as the temple where God lived – his own body that would be rebuilt after his death.

In 2001, a musician by the name of Karl Paulnack lived in Manhattan. He writes of heading down to the conservatory on September 12th to do what he always did. He sat down at the piano at 10 AM to begin practicing as he always did. Out of habit, without even thinking about it, he lifted the cover on the keyboard, opened his music, and set his fingers on the keys. Then he took his fingers off the keys. He writes, “I sat there and thought, does this even matter? Isn’t this completely irrelevant? Playing the piano right now, given what happened in this city yesterday, seems silly, absurd, irreverent, pointless. Why am I here? What place has a musician in this moment in time? Who needs a piano player right now? I was completely lost. And then I, along with the rest of New York, went through the journey of getting through that week. I did not play the piano that day, and in fact I contemplated briefly whether I would ever want to play the piano again. And then I observed how we got through the day. At least in my neighborhood, we didn’t shoot hoops or play Scrabble. We didn’t play cards to pass the time, we didn’t watch TV, we didn’t shop, we most certainly did not go to the mall. The first organized activity that I saw in New York, that same day, was singing.” (from a speech by Karl Paulnack of Boston Conservatory posted on facebook, 2009). And, as you can imagine, what was once a routine habit of daily practice became instead an expression of the soul.

Sometimes it takes a tragedy to help us see things in a different light and change our responses. Sometimes it takes a raving mad man claiming to know something only God would know. And sometimes it takes a conscious effort to open our eyes and see the boxes, the spilling crafts and the handprints that still need to be worked on.

We are still walking with Jesus through the season of Lent. One of the spiritual disciplines we can take on is the task of taking a closer look at ourselves – as individuals and as the church. What, in our lives, is just not quite right? Are there habits that we have for seemingly good reasons that we may need to examine a bit closer, asking why? Asking how God could use that time or that habit or that routine? The “A Team” (our membership and outreach committee) is asking us to invite someone to come to church with us. And in being asked that question, we have to look at ourselves a bit more. We have to reconsider why WE are here and what WE have found redeeming in Christ. What has become a routine act of coming to worship every Sunday has been tossed before us by your pastor and your session (all of us raving lunatics!) so that we take a closer look at why we are here. When we search the scriptures we discover that we have been called to share God’s love – not simply to come into worship for an hour every week but to respond to God’s love and pass it on!

It is my hope that during Lent, no matter how much you have scrubbed and swept and polished and dusted you will join me in seeing the boxes in the corner and help me find a place to store them; that you will notice the crafts spilling out of the craft closet and help me clean it up; that you will see the fingerprints on the glass doors and take a few moments with me to wipe them off; that you will notice your fingers on the keys and play from the heart; that you will hear God’s voice to you while you are here and decide, with me, that our faith is much too important to keep to ourselves. I hope, with me, you will decide to share God’s love with someone else.

Amen.

"early" musings

It is Thursday night and I am posting my "early" musings for Sunday's sermon. I suppose I should be further along than "early" musings, but I'm not. So here goes.

The scripture for Sunday is Jesus' cleansing of the temple. He wanders up to the temple and sees people exchanging regular money for the temple money (because they can't have Caesar's picture inside the temple -- it would be idolatry.) But Jesus is furious and he turns the tables over on these moneychangers. Imagine the sounds -- coins dropping and birds squawking as pre-sacrificed offerings. Jesus causes this disruption because he's had it. This is not what the temple is supposed to be about.

Think about it . . . why would people need any money anyway inside the temple? Well, to make a sacrifice. In the "olden" days, people would bring what they had -- the best sheep of their flock, or the nicest chicken -- to atone for their sins. But now, (now being 2000 years ago) they are expected to purchase their sacrifice, not from the bounty God had given them, but from animals the temple people have chosen as "worthy."

They needed money to make atonement.

Now here is where I have to get out my commentary and do a little more research, but offhand I'm thinking Jesus is upset that people can't bring a portion of what God has given them. He's upset that what God has already given isn't "good enough" for the temple. If God had given a family 4 chickens, would not one of them be more than enough to atone for sins? Why would they have to sell one, take the money they gained from selling it to the temple, and exchange their Caesar money for temple money so that they could buy a more fitting sacrifice? Is that the purpose of having a temple? to please the rabbis? or is it something else? Perhaps the purpose of coming to temple was to please God? to offer oneself to God -- to bring a sacrifice of what God had given to you?

The title of my sermon I have: "Clean House and Come On In!" It sounds mighty Southern, doesn't it? When I came up with it, I thought about how often I won't let people into my house because it is too messy. I feel I have to get it all perfect before I can let anyone in. But Jesus' table-turning endeavors at the temple seem to speak of something more lasting than that. It's like he told the money-changers -- "don't make them clean house before they come in! Don't make them live up to your standards. Let them come in as they are -- with their idoled coins and heavy hearts. Let them bring to God what is really important to them, not to you." And really, that's what I should do too -- I shouldn't worry who comes into my messy house because the point is to let them in! I don't expect perfection from my guest either -- I just want them to be themselves, to come on in and make themselves comfortable. I don't request that they exchange their shoes for my shoes at the door, for in doing so I would be exalting my status above theirs. No, when I let you into my home, I am to honor you as my guest.

So I'm wondering now if Jesus' actions had something to do with the hospitality code? If the moneychangers were driving people away from the temple rather than welcoming them??? Please comment if you are studying this scripture too. Your thoughts matter to me.

Thinking toward Sunday

Mark 8:34-38
34He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Our congregation is entering an interesting time during Lent. Together we are "taking up" a responsibility -- the responsibility of sharing God's love with our neighbors. But we're really not quite sure how to do that. We can talk about it with each other. We can listen to sermons about it. But when it comes down to it, we're not quite sure "how" to do it. Which is why we are entering into this discipline of evangelism together.

I have been the pastor of the Spring Lake Presbyterian Church for five years and in that amount of time we have seen a lot of people come in and join with us as fellow members or friends. Some have wandered in, looking for a Presbyterian church. Others have come because a neighbor invited them or because a church member cared for them and left an impression upon their lives. Still others have come because they recently moved into the neighborhood. But people have come, and as they have come and the love of God has been shared, the Spirit of God has begun to fill this place. People sense that when they walk into worship on Sunday morning. On more than one occasion I have heard the words, "God is here." And I believe them.

As this is week one of this emphasis where we will slowly learn "how" to share God's love, we are starting simply, focusing on what it is about this particular church that drew us in and kept us here. You've heard a few testimonials from members of the "A Team" -- our ministry team for membership, outreach, and evangelism. You've heard about the friendliness of the congregation. You've heard about how the people and the rituals tend to grow richer with age. You've heard about the welcome. And you've heard that someone felt God's presence when they walked into this space. Personally, as you know, I came because it was a job . . . but realize something else. I came because God called me here. I have never doubted that. No, I take that back. It was five years ago and I walked into this space as your new pastor during a Lenten meal and I must have had a look of fear on my face because one of the PNC members turned to me and asked, "you didn't realize how old we were, did you?" For a brief moment, I suppose I did wonder what was on God's mind when calling me here. But all it took was a conversation here, an invitation there, a visit here, a comment there, a conflict here, a resolution there and suddenly I realized that I was in a sacred place . . . with sacred people -- the children of God. For in the time I have been here, I have grown in my faith as I have watched you grow in your faith. I have seen God at work in ordinary places I had forgotten to look in the past. I have learned to lead you -- God's people -- as you have made a place for me just as I am. And in this dance of learning to lead and learning from leaders, we have together discovered the secret to this hallowed place is that God is here . . . with us. In the sorrows we share together -- like Skip's funeral yesterday. In the joys we celebrate -- like cancer free anniversaries. And in those in-between times when God holds our hands as we face whatever will come. In all of this . . . God has been here and God will be here. So as we begin this journey of Lent together, as we reflect upon why we are here and how God reveals God's self to us in fellowship with one another, we are beginning to become Christ's disciples together.

In Mark's gospel today we hear those words -- If anyone would want to follow me, he or she must deny themselves and take up their crosses and follow me. We are asked to willingly take up a death sentence to follow this One called Jesus, the Christ. This isn't a shallow game about looking good before others or even feeling good about what we are doing; if we take Mark's words seriously then we must be willing to give up anything that leaves us looking rosy for the sake of following Christ. It's not about us anymore. It's about denying ourselves so that God can fill us. It's about listening to the wants, the needs, the whines, the aches that drown out God and saying -- Be gone! -- so that we can hear the One who speaks our name.

Mark speaks, 35For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? As we, in the Membership, Outreach, and Evanglism "A Team" met to talk about what this church needed to do, we realized that we must take Mark's gospel seriously -- that we, as a church, needed to be willing to share the gospel with others. We realized that there is no profit in wondering how God will provide for our church if we are not willing to do what has been asked of us. God asks for us to be willing to lose our life for the sake of the gospel. We are not to be ashamed to tell friends and neighbors what God has done for us. We are not to be ashamed to tell acquaintances how God has changed peoples' lives in our church. We are not to be ashamed to look deep within our own hearts and say, "Yes, God, begin with me. I want to follow you. I don't want to be ashamed."

We're going to take things one step at a time. And we are going to enter what might be a little uncomfortable territory -- we're going to ask you to invite a friend to church. But we are going to help you along the way because it's a little uncomfortable for us too. We know what it's like to take that risk and talk about God in a world that doesn't talk about such things. But we also know that we're willing to take that risk because God is the Source of our life, the Reason we are alive, the Presence we can not escape, the Love that fills our souls.

Let us not be ashamed of the Gospel. For it is a Gospel -- a good news -- just waiting to be shared. Amen.