Scarce Goods, Abundant Faith

I work in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania, which currently is home to nearly half of the state's cases of the coronavirus. As I drove home from work a couple days ago, my wife called me from Target. "The shelves of the pharmacy area are picked clean" she reported. "There's nothing here!" Across the Philadelphia area, it was the same story, with store after store sold out of cleaning products, toilet paper, hand sanitizer, medications and other basics. Suddenly, COVID-19 wasn't the only virus in town. Fear was going viral as well.

Scarcity is a rare experience for us in America. We're used to having whatever we want waiting for us at a store just down the road or delivered to our doorstep courtesy of Amazon. But as I paged through my father's sermons looking for one that might speak to our new national obsession with panic buying, it didn't take me long to find these words that Dad wrote during the energy crisis of the 1970's:

"If scarcity is having an adverse effect upon people's attitudes and the way they live and think, then it is a spiritual problem. Our problem, of course, is that we tend to be concerned first of all about our own comfort and convenience. It's one thing to recognize that you are materially insecure; there's nothing sinful about that; that's just a simple determination of the facts. Sin - the spiritual problem - enters in as we begin to react to our insecure situation.

When we believe that the basics of life - such as energy, food or shelter - may become scarce, people tend to withdraw and become suspicious of one another. It's every man for himself. Effort that we once used when times were better for worthy causes or unselfish deeds is now expended on ourselves as we turn a nervous eye to our gas gauge or the price of bread. More and more, we are pulling away from involvement with a needy world, saying our own needs come first. This is what the Bible calls 'sin' - our basic inability to entrust ourselves and our well being to the God who made us and loves us and promises to take care of us.

But what is to be done if this is the natural human reaction to bad times? Don't we have to accept the fact that, at least for a while, people will have to set aside concern for others while they take care of themselves? No! As Christians, we cannot accept that. In fact, now more than ever we will be called upon to reach out and fill in the gaps left by those who are running scared for their own hides.

How can we be different from everyone else? How can we forget ourselves and continue to be compassionate and outreaching? The answer lies in having faith like the author of Psalm 16. Reading this psalm with an open heart will give you an escape into inner peace. But this escape is not 'escapist' in the sense that you run away from the facts of your bad situation in world. Rather, to read this psalm is to face other facts - facts of greater permanence, facts about God and God's staying power, good facts that outweigh the bad facts in your situation many times over.

Keep me safe, my God, 

for in you I take refuge.

I say to the Lord, "You are my Lord; 

apart from you I have no good thing."

This is a song of trust. The Psalmist is quietly confident that God, and nothing else, is the source of life's highest satisfaction. There is only one way to live in the kind of world we have today and keep your balance. That is to truly let the Lord be your Lord. Everyday, we must rid ourselves of self-reliance and re-submit ourselves to God. When you look at the chaos of the world around you and you panic and say, 'How can I cope?' you have made the typical human blunder. Don't look to yourself. Look to God. Your strength to cope is with God.

I say of the holy people who are in the land, 

"They are the noble ones in whom is all my delight." 

Those who run after other gods will suffer more and more.

I never cease to marvel at the contrast between the peace and joy of a true saint and the misery of the person who has chosen another god. A man's true god is not what he bows down to on Sunday morning but what he trusts in through the week. If the object of his trust is some material thing (like money) or some institution (like the government) how miserable he is in times like these when money and governments fail. He is hopeless and at sea, because what once gave him security is no more.  But he who makes the Lord his God rests easy and remains unmoved through anything, because he believes God will provide him with everything he really needs.

Why are we nervous and frightened, short-tempered and withdrawn in these times of scarcity and crisis? Because our gods have failed us. Because what we really trusted in is either in short supply or has been shown to be flimsy. We have worshiped at the altars of two gods - money and government. And now that money is losing its value and government has been shown to have feet of clay, we are naturally nervous and afraid. The old animal instinct of self-preservation takes over. We withdraw and almost unconsciously decide that we will just take care of ourselves and our own. And so we justify ignoring the needs of others.

It's not really you and me who are hurt by scarcity. We may have to put forth more effort than usual, wait an hour in line, or spend more money than usual to get what we want, but we get it. Those who suffer are the poor and oppressed, those on fixed incomes, those who depend on our charity that we are now spending on ourselves. As we turn inward toward ourselves, we leave others out in the cold. And even then we are dissatisfied. We worry and fret that we don't have enough of this or that. Our anxieties grow, and we become tight, selfish, withdrawn and hostile people.

In our anxious situation, it seems almost absurd to listen to the words of Jesus as he sits on a mountainside teaching the multitudes: "Do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on." You know, Jesus said that to people who had far less than you and me, and he meant it. All of us today live like kings compared to the poor rag-tag mass of suffering humanity that followed Jesus around. And yet Jesus really expected them, desperate as they were, to find a spiritual security that would relieve them of their material worries. My friends, if that peace was possible for them, it is certainly possible for us.

The key to this peace was summed up by Jesus in that same Sermon on the Mount when he said, "Seek first His kingdom, and all these things will be yours as well." It is the person who trusts his own well being to God and reaches out to help his neighbor who is given all he needs. Those who manage to live these days and remain unruffled are those who are so busy caring for others that they must rely on God alone for their own needs. The Christian response to scarcity is not to withdraw and hoard and look out for Number One. That is the pagan response, and we see enough of it all around us. The Christian response is to entrust ourselves, body and soul, to God ... and to reach out our hands to our neighbors, not counting the cost. Then we will sing with the Psalmist:

Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; 

you make my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; 

surely I have a delightful inheritance. ...

I will keep my eyes on the Lord. 

With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.

     

From: "Scarcity - A Christian Response"

Scripture: Psalm 16; Matthew 6:22-35

Preached at: Grace United Methodist Church

Millersville, PA    

Our Protocol of Love

I created this blog to share passages from sermons that my father, Rev. William L. Newcomer, preached during his twenty-two years of ministry in the United Methodist Church.  Forgive me for straying from that format to share instead remarks I gave last week as a guest speaker at Paoli United Methodist Church, where my father served as pastor from 1983 until his death in 1989.  I chose to speak about the recently announced proposal to split the United Methodist Church over the issues of same-sex marriage and the ordination of gay clergy. Here's what I had to say...

                                         

By now, most of you must have heard the latest news in the United Methodist Church.  It’s both good news and bad news.  The good news is that last week, a diverse group of church leaders announced an agreement that, if approved in May at General Conference, will end decades of fighting over same-sex marriage and the ordaining of LGBTQ persons as clergy.  The bad news is that the agreement (which is called the “Protocol for Reconciliation & Grace Through Separation”) would end the fighting by splitting our denomination.  Under the Protocol, traditionalists who want to continue our current bans on ordaining openly gay clergy and on officiating or hosting same-sex weddings would leave to form a new, conservative Methodist denomination, while progressives and centrists would stay in the United Methodist Church and change our rule book, the Book of Discipline, to allow for same-sex marriage and for gay clergy.  This Protocol would have to be approved by a vote of delegates from around the world at the UMC’s next General Conference, which is being held in May in Minneapolis, MN.

Since I saw the news of this Protocol on the front page of the Philadelphia Inquirer last weekend, I’ve felt horribly conflicted.  On the one hand, I feel profound sadness for what I will be losing if the United Methodist Church splits.  The United Methodist Church is home for me – literally.  Because my dad was a UM pastor, I grew up living in church-owned parsonages, including this church’s parsonage during my college years.  And thanks to my wife’s calling as a UM pastor, I still live on church grounds in a parsonage – now as the pastor’s spouse instead of as the pastor’s kid.  The United Methodist Church is home for all of us figuratively, but it may soon be a broken home.  

In some regions, entire annual conferences may choose to leave the UMC.  Some local congregations will decide to leave the UMC as well.  Some people undoubtedly will leave their local congregations to find another congregation that more closely aligns with their views on gay clergy and same-sex marriage.  All of this depresses me, frankly.  There are no winners, only losers, in a church split.  Our Bishop, Peggy Johnson, put it so well when she said, “When we go to our respective ‘corners’ I believe we will soon discover that we are ‘less than’ we could be without the other.”  Something is wrong with us when our common faith in Jesus Christ is not strong enough glue to bind us together.  

But on the other hand, I feel a surprising sense of hope because of this Protocol.  Ever since our Book of Discipline was amended in 1972 to say that “the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching”, we have been debating, then arguing, then fighting over the treatment of LGBTQ persons in the UMC.  Many people have been and continue to be hurt by our current rules and by the fight over changing them.  The fighting must stop.  Everyone deserves a church home where they are welcomed, supported and loved, and where they can follow their conscience and their good faith reading of Scripture.  This proposed split would free us all – whether liberal, conservative, or somewhere in-between – from our divisive, draining, and self-destructive fighting so that we can re-focus our energy, our resources, and our passion on the true work of the Church: making and equipping disciples for the transformation of the world.  That gives me hope!

Before I go any further, I want you to know where I stand on same-sex marriage and gay clergy in the United Methodist Church.  I have been on both sides of the issue.  When I was a younger adult, I held the traditionalist view.  Scripture appeared to clearly and consistently testify that homosexual sex was sinful, so who was I to argue with the Bible?  I believed that same-gender sex was sin – and I didn’t take that position because I was a bigot or because I was homophobic.  I took that position because it was the conclusion I sincerely drew from Scripture at the time.  I wanted to be faithful to God’s Word.

But my view has changed.  In the time since my wife has been a pastor, I’ve found that in every congregation she served there were gay and lesbian members who were pillars of the church.  They were living lives of dedicated service to Christ and his church.  Jesus said in Matthew 7 that we know people by the fruit their lives produce.  These gay and lesbian Methodists were producing good fruit!  This caused me to re-examine Scripture.  What I learned with more study surprised me.  The few passages that address same-gender sexual relations are anything but clear.  What is clear is that Jesus calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and to treat others as we would want to be treated.  My marriage is the source of abundant blessings in my life; it is the most important and enriching human relationship I have.  I can’t imagine not being married to Dorry!  I love my wife!  I love being her husband!  And if I am to love my gay neighbor as myself, if I am to treat my gay neighbor as I want to be treated, then I should value my gay neighbor’s marriage as I do my own.  I should honor my gay neighbor’s call to ministry as I honored my wife’s call.  In a nutshell, that’s why I now think the Book of Discipline needs to change to permit same-sex marriage and to permit gay clergy.

Having been on both sides of this great divide, I want to talk with you about where we go from here… or, more importantly, how we conduct ourselves from this point on.  I was drawn to 1 Corinthians 13 as our Scripture for this morning.  These are Paul’s famous words about love.  We usually hear them read at weddings.  But Paul didn’t write these words as advice to newlyweds.  He wrote these words to the people of the church in Corinth, who were struggling to get along with each other.  Paul was reminding the Corinthian church what the point is of all this church stuff.  The whole point is LOVE.  Without love, our words are as annoying as a clanging cymbal.  Without love, our knowledge means nothing.  Without love, our faith means nothing.  Without love, our generosity means nothing.  Love is to be our defining characteristic as followers of Christ.  In 1st John (4:8), we read that “Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.”  In our Gospel lesson, Jesus tells the twelve disciples at the last supper: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  When we are dealing with each other, love is to be our Protocol.  Love is to be our rule for living.  Love is how others will know we are Christians.

So with love in mind as our reigning value, let me humbly suggest 3 simple rules that should guide each of us as we face the uncertainty that 2020 brings in the United Methodist Church (and here at Paoli United Methodist Church):

Rule #1:  Treat those with whom you disagree as you would want to be treated.  Paul tells us that love is patient and kind.  Love is not arrogant or rude.  It is not irritable or resentful.  Love doesn’t insist on its own way.  Then that is how we should be.  We need to treat those with whom we disagree as we would want to be treated.  This is a straight-forward application of the Golden Rule.  If I don’t want others to say I’m a secularist sell-out who doesn’t believe in the Bible, then I better not call them bigots or homophobic.  We may laugh at these extreme put-downs, but if you stop and read the comments people have been posting on social media about the Protocol and this possible church split, it won’t take you long to find folks who claim to be Christians lobbing these kinds of insults back and forth at each other like hand-grenades.  We live in a society that is polarized.  Shouting and coarse language and insults have taken the place of civil discourse and respectful disagreement.  What if our lasting legacy as United Methodists were to show this nation and the world how to disagree without being disagreeable?  “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” 

Rule #2:  Be Humble. After all, what if you’re wrong?  I read in the bulletin that your adult Sunday school class is studying a book called “The Sin of Certainty.”  I love that title!  If certainty can be a sin, then both sides of this debate in the UMC have much to repent of!  Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 13 that, right now, we only know in part.  We only see in a mirror, dimly.  So why do we act like we have it all figured out?  Why do we treat fellow Methodists who read Scripture differently on this issue like they are heretics or un-Christian or unwelcome in our fellowship?  Again, this is the Golden Rule in action.  If I want someone to be open to the possibility that they might have it wrong, then I must allow for the possibility that I may be the one who is wrong.  What if our lasting legacy as United Methodists were to show this nation and the world what looks like to live together in humility instead of hubris?  “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  

Rule #3:  Don’t let the “perfect” be the enemy of the good!  The “Protocol for Reconciliation & Grace Through Separation” was negotiated by Methodist leaders who were progressive, conservative, and moderate.  The effort was initiated by a Bishop from Africa, and it was hammered out with the help of Kenneth Feinberg, a renowned mediator who is known for his work administering the 9-11 Victims Compensation Fund.  The Protocol is the end product of tough negotiations.  It is akin to a legal settlement.  Any judge will tell you that the sign of a good settlement is that everyone leaves unhappy.  That’s because each side has given up something meaningful to gain something meaningful.  It is a compromise.  But compromise is a dirty word in our society these days.  As a nation and a people, we seem to be losing our ability to compromise.  Just take a look at Washington, D.C.

If a good settlement makes no one happy, then the Protocol must be a great settlement.  When I read reactions, I find conservatives who grouse about having to leave the denomination.  “Why should we leave?” they rant.  “We aren’t the ones who want to change the rules!”  Then I find progressives who grouse about the $25 million in church funds that the conservatives will be paid to start their new traditionalist denomination.  “Why should they get so much money?” they rant.  “It’s like we’re paying them to continue discriminating against the LGBTQ community!” 

No matter what your perspective, if you read the Protocol, you will find something you don’t like.  It’s not perfect.  It never will be.  That’s the nature of compromise.  What if we stopped picking apart this Protocol, stopped putting ourselves first and our fellow Methodists last?  What if we showed this nation and the world that people can still compromise for a greater good than their own self-interests?  What if that were the lasting legacy of the United Methodist Church?  “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share this with you today.  As I said earlier, the United Methodist Church is home for me, in part because congregations like Paoli UMC always made me feel at home.  Your love helped grow me up!  I pray that you will continue to let love be your protocol in the challenging months ahead.  In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Sermon: "Our Protocol of Love"

Scripture: 1 Corinthians 13; John 13:34-35

Preached by: Philip W. Newcomer

January 12, 2020 @ Paoli United Methodist Church
Paoli, Pennsylvania      

Why Are You Sleeping, Lord?

Where is God? Whether it's events in the news or happenings in our own lives, there are so many situations crying out for divine intervention or at least some divine encouragement; yet, God seems distant. We read the Bible, and God is talking to Abraham, wrestling with Jacob, parting the Red Sea for Moses and the Hebrew people. Why don't we experience God in such tangible and powerful ways today? Is God asleep on the job? 

This always seemed like a modern problem to me. Then I read these words, written thousands of years ago, in Psalm 44:

Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep?

Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.

Why do you hide your face

and forget our misery and oppression?"

Times have changed. The scenery and players have changed. But we have continued to struggle for millennia to relate to our Creator. Is God sleeping? My father once answered that age-old question this way: 

"God is not dead in our day, as some have claimed. God is not sleeping, as the Psalmist suspects. If God seems dead to us, it is we who are dead. If God appears to be sleeping, we are the ones who have dozed off. Isaiah once spoke God's word when he said, 'I am doing a new thing, do you not perceive it?' God is forever doing new things in our midst, but the sad truth is that we seldom perceive it. We're a little bit like the fellow that looks and looks at the clouds and sees only clouds. He can never see a profile of Abe Lincoln or a butterfly or any other design.

Clouds over Wolf Run Lake, Albrightsville, PA

How to see God in your common experience; this is the problem. Here are five suggestions that may help:

First, begin tearing down the barrier between your sacred and secular life. God gave you a whole life. It didn't come with a religious compartment and a non-religious compartment. Many people wonder why they can't find God in church. It's because God is not real to them outside church. Try this for a change: Refer all things, even the smallest, simplest thing, to God. God is there in the smallest experience. God knows. God cares. Train your heart and mind on the fact that God is present even in the most mundane circumstance. Bring it again and again to your conscious awareness, and see what a difference it makes in your life.

Second, talk conversationally with God, even out loud if you're alone. Instead of worrying about your problems or the problems of others, talk to God about them. When there is thanks to be given, do it then and there. Don't save it all up and let the pastor or choir do it for you on Sunday morning. This ongoing conversation with God will help you recognize and openly acknowledge God's presence anywhere, any time.

Third, enter fully into a fellowship of believers, and draw strength from others who are engaged in the same struggle to wake up to God. Turn the small groups and classes and informal friendships in your church into places where problems and weaknesses can come to the surface without fear of condemnation and where we can see each other through and point to God in the experiences of each other. Being in fellowship with other believers can help you see your life in perspective again, and you can do the same for them.

Fourth, disengage from your busyness. Give God time and opportunity to reveal God's self to you. Don't shut God out with a cluttered life. Sometimes God is not in the wind or the fire, but rather God speaks in the quietness, in a still, small voice. To hear that voice, you must quiet yourself.

Fifth, be honest and specific with God. Don't think that you have to sweet-talk God with all that fancy religious jargon. Tell God exactly what's on your mind and how you feel. There's a good chance that if you come through as a real person to God, God will come through as a real person to you.

All of this sounds like easy and simple advice, but let me tell you it's not that easy or simple to follow. You must really apply yourself. It is the cost of discipleship. But let me share my own testimony with you: The rewards far exceed the demands. To know God's presence. To move from knowing God as a concept to knowing God as a person. To discover that God is really there in your daily experience. To know that Abraham and Moses have nothing on you so far as meeting the real God is concerned. That is to have life and have it abundantly."

From: "Why Are You Sleeping, Lord?"

Scripture: Psalm 44

Preached at Grace United Methodist Church
Millersville, PA

The Inclusive Church

It was painful to watch the live stream on the internet Monday. I felt sick to my stomach as the 2019 General Conference of the United Methodist Church voted not only to continue policies banning same sex weddings and barring gay and lesbian clergy, but also to strengthen enforcement of those hurtful policies. I knew that my denomination was taking a step that would deeply wound so many people -- claiming all the while to be doing God's will and following God's word. 

The United Methodist Church's discriminatory policies had their start back in 1972, yet this week's vote of the General Conference still seemed like a jarring contrast to the welcoming nature of the local congregations in which I had been raised and had come to love Christ. This sent me diving into my father's sermons in search of some glimpse of the Methodist spirit I recalled from childhood. 

Around the same time that the UM Church first declared "the practice of homosexuality [to be] incompatible with Christian teaching," my father preached a sermon called "The Inclusive Church." It was aimed at issues of race rather than sexual orientation, but it spoke to me in light of the week's discouraging events in the United Methodist Church. Dad wrote:  

"This is how it is within the Church of Jesus Christ: All men and women, distinct and different as individuals, without sacrificing any of that identity, are bonded together into one body where differences are appreciated and accepted as enhancements, not threats, and where all are made to share and work and live together by the presence of the Holy Spirit within and between them.

As we look at our diverse brothers and sisters in Christ, we must ask why are we together? Why are we concerned about making the church inclusive? It's not so that a minority can be given more worth and be brought up to some supposedly higher level of the majority. Nor is it for the majority to prove how open-minded and good they are. It is because we all have one Father who made each of us inherently worthwhile, so that in his sight no person is more or less important than another. And Jesus Christ came into the world to bring his salvation to all people. If we all share the same forgiving Father, why can't we all live in the same house as one family?

At the heart of the tough decision Paul and others made to include Gentiles in the early church's mission was the new commandment Jesus gave his disciples on the night of his betrayal: 'Love one another; even as I have loved you.' So long as it was possible to interpret that commandment in terms of their own small Jewish circle, the difficulties the disciples had with it were minimal. But once the 'one another' began to be enlarged to include all kinds of people, including many kinds the disciples had been brought up to avoid, there were some real decisions to be made.

How far did Jesus intend to go with his 'one another'? Thinking through his whole mission and message, the disciples could come to only one conclusion. No limits could be set. Love for one another had to include Greek and barbarian, male and female, slave and free, Roman and African, as well as their own kind. 

After all, to his command to 'love one another,' Jesus had added a pretty strong qualifier: 'even as I have loved you.' The disciples knew only too well what that meant, for the love of Jesus never had been selective, never had been dependent on the qualities of the one to be loved - after all, Jesus had loved even them! And they also knew how he had loved them to the end, stopping at nothing, not even his cross. How could they take the love of someone like that and claim that it was meant for only this group or only for that class? How can we? God help us!"  

There, at the end of that type-written line on the manuscript, Dad had added two hand-written words of hope to end his sermon: "God will!"

"The Inclusive Church"
Scripture: John 13:31-35
Preached at Grace United Methodist Church
Millersville, Pennsylvania

Doctors, Nurses and Jesus

I've had to search for a new doctor and dentist after moving last year. I found a great doctor. At my first office visit, she asked me about the stresses in my life. As I told her everything going on with me, she frowned, grabbed a prescription pad, scribbled something on it, tore off the page, and handed it to me. Her prescription for me was four simple words: "Take care of you!" I've put that prescription where I can see it every morning as I start my day.

In his sermon "God in Person," my dad shared some stories about beloved health care professionals he remembered from his childhood:

"As far back as I can remember as a child, Dr. Anna Klemmer was our family doctor. She became a doctor long before it was common for a woman to do so. She was a warm, vivacious, self-assured, genuine type of person. I can remember my mother talking about Dr. Klemmer and saying, 'I don't know how much she knows about medicine, but I always feel better just talking to her.' And she was absolutely right about that. Just being in this woman's presence was strangely reassuring. Having grown up and moved away from home, I lost contact with Dr. Klemmer for many years. But our paths crossed again. I found her, a few months before her death, living in a nursing home where I happened to be visiting another patient. In her time of need, I tried in my own small way to be the person for her that she had been for so many others.

Each of us could talk about someone who was there for us in a time of need. Another one I remember was Bertha. Bertha was the large, kind-faced, grandmotherly woman in a white dress and white shoes who served as Dr. Nightingale's nurse. Dr. Nightingale was our elderly dentist as I was growing up. He was a very nice man but a practitioner of exceedingly primitive dentistry. These were the days of the old, slow-speed drills, and Dr. Nightingale only used Novocaine for pulling teeth, not filling them! Bertha was his substitute for Novocaine, and not a bad one at that. Her main job was to stand beside you and hold your hand and emit all the motherly forms of comfort while Dr. Nightingale ground away at your teeth. It really seemed as though she were feeling it with you. Somehow I remember Bertha more vividly than the pain. 

I relate these childhood memories to make this point: It is the mysterious companionship of another - the focused attention of a person who is totally there for you for as long as necessary - that often provides the bridge that we need over our troubled waters. The crisis times in our lives are made significantly easier to bear if there is someone there to share them with us. The difference between someone who can cope with the stresses of life and someone who cannot often is the presence or absence of another concerned person.

The good news for us all is that the Eternal God has taken on our humanity in Jesus Christ to become that concerned person. The Eternal God has come into our world as our brother, our friend, that person we all need and crave. Jesus is a man and God all rolled up in one person. When we know him as a man, we experience a sharing of mutual woes and burdens. When we know him as God, we know that this sharing will not run hot and cold, but will be constant and forever. It's because he is both man and God that Jesus is our Savior. He came specifically to minister to us in our pain and poverty and illness and confusion and aloneness.

The Christian faith's unique message to us in our brokenness is the Incarnation - God becoming flesh in the Son. The other great religions of the world are founded upon a system, or a philosophy, or a certain code of ethics. Not so with Christianity. Our faith is founded on a person, Jesus Christ; and therein lies its power and immense practicality in helping us overcome our problems and cope with life's burdens. Though all others may fail us, we always have Him. He is there for us in times of trial and rejoicing. Crying with us. Laughing with us. He is always there. He is always enough."

From "God in Person"
Scripture: Isaiah 9:2-7
Preached at Calvary U.M. Church
Easton, Pennsylvania
Sunday, December 25, 1983

A Theme For The New Year

As I searched through my Dad's sermons for material for a New Year-themed post, I stumbled upon an outline from a talk he gave for a secular community group around New Year's Day of 1989. I was startled when I realized the timing of this message. Dad had lost a kidney to cancer just months earlier, but he didn't know that his cancer would re-emerge and take his life in the year ahead. 

Here's the heart of Dad's New Year's talk, which I've re-created for you from his notes ...

Did you make a New Year's resolution this year? I didn't make one. I'm not a big fan of New Year's resolutions, mostly because of the trouble I inevitably have keeping them. In fact, I recommend that you choose a theme for the New Year instead of a resolution.

I've asked a few friends what their themes for this new year might be. One suggested "Fun and Frolic." Another came up with "Limber and Trimmer." Here's my suggestion: "Nothing Wasted."

Why "Nothing Wasted"? you may ask. One of the most debilitating fears that attacks us is the fear of failure. We can't imagine anything worse. Inherent in that fear is the feeling that when something doesn't go the way we planned, when we lose, when tragedy strikes -- that this is all wasted time and effort. There is no good to come out of it.  Everything has gone "down the tubes."

So many of our choices in life are based upon "not failing" rather than "trying it." We make safe choices which do not challenge, stretch and test our abilities. Sometimes, this fear of failure causes us to get stuck in familiar ruts. We don't do jobs we could do, we don't get to know people we could get to know, we don't go places we could go -- all because we are afraid to fail and we look at failure as a waste. So we stay right where we are. Prisoners of our own fears. Stuck in the status quo.      

There is another way. We can risk failure if we can put our trust in God -- the ultimate safety net.

I believe I can talk about God here. I think it's safe to assume that community-minded people such as yourselves are here because of a responsibility you feel -- dare I say a spiritual responsibility -- to make your community a better place in which to live. And so, I'm going to talk about God.

God is always there to catch us when we fall. Not if we fall. When we fall. Failure is inevitable; it is how we view it that counts. When we realize this, nothing in life is wasted.

I think of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German-Lutheran pastor and professor who was jailed by the Nazis during World War II. Under similar circumstances, many of us would be done in. What a waste! Right? No! From his prison cell, Bonhoeffer wrote: "Much as I long to be out of here, I don't believe a single day has been wasted. What will come out of my time here, it is too early to say. But something is bound to come out of it."

I was in the hospital for major surgery this past October. What a blow! What a waste! That's how I was tempted to feel. But I also felt God's hand. Odd as this may sound, I can't begin to tell you the good that has come out of it: mental and spiritual health, confirmation of my faith, love and support of family and friends, greater sensitivity as I minister to the sick, an ability to take life one day at a time, to prioritize and attend to the important things first.

I am learning that nothing that happens to you need be considered a waste. "Nothing wasted" -- I recommend it as your theme for 1989.     

Notes from: "A Theme For The New Year"

Presented on or about January 1, 1989

to a community group in Paoli, PA

Grace In The Tall Weeds

Ever feel like you're stuck? Like you're struggling to walk through tall weeds that hinder your progress and obscure the path forward?

Sometimes, those tall weeds mark the very place where we meet God. I'll let my dad explain: 

"You know, of course, that the Peanuts gang loves to play baseball. In one Peanuts cartoon, Linus the outfielder is shown standing in tall weeds beyond center field, looking frustrated. 'I can't find the ball!' he shouts to the other players. 'How do you expect anyone to find a ball in weeds like these? What did you hit it out here for?' Linus goes on: 'It's impossible! Of course I'm looking! This is hopeless! Nobody could find anything out here! You couldn't find a battle ship in these weeds if it ... Wait ... I found it.'

Linus has just experienced what all of us are privileged to experience and are so apt to take for granted and perhaps even miss - an undeserved moment of grace in the tall weeds of life. What are the tall weeds in your life - the things that get you down and make you feel hopeless before you even get started? Do you ever react as Linus did - virtually paralyzed by frustration and defeatism as the tall weeds engulf you? When Linus happened to glance down at his feet and spied that ball, it was a moment of pure grace. He had done nothing to deserve this find, in fact, quite the opposite. His negative attitude would seem to keep him from ever being able to find the ball. He couldn't focus on the ball; all he could see were the tall weeds. 

It is true that negative thinking prevents us from capturing the victory, and yet it is not true that positive thinking alone brings us the victory. My point is not that we will prevail over the tall weeds if we just believe strongly enough that we can. That is a popular modern gospel, but it is not the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Just believing that he would find the ball might help Linus find it and it might not. No matter what he believed, the weeds might just be too dense. Sometimes no matter how much we believe in ourselves and in the rightness of our cause, the challenges and problems are too great for us to manage. But as Christians we are supposed to be hopeful people. If positive thinking and believing in ourselves is not the basis for our hope, then what is?     

Our hope is based upon those moments of grace that break in upon us, unexpectedly, through no effort of our own, courtesy of God himself. They are like finding the ball in the tall weeds. They are those moments of reprieve, no matter how small, no matter how brief, that remind us that this is still God's world, and we are still his children, and he has not taken his eyes off of us. The Gospel of John puts it this way: 'The Light shone in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.' It's pretty dark, but there is still a light - God's light.

The way to experience a moment of grace from the Lord is to stop all the frustrated and frantic flailing about in the tall weeds. Just be still; wait and watch for the Lord to act. ... The message of the Gospel is that in all situations of life, no matter how desperate, God sends his salvation - maybe not the salvation we expect or want - but God's salvation, by God's grace and not because of our efforts. How important it is to remember that. In his letter to the Philippians, Paul says, 'I can do all things if I just put my mind to it and try hard enough.' No, he doesn't say that at all! Paul says, 'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.' This is the key to experiencing grace in the tall weeds. Remember it is Christ who created us; it is Christ who saves us; it is Christ who will bring us with him to glory."

From "Grace in the Tall Weeds"

Scripture: Philippians 4:8-13

Preached at Paoli United Methodist Church

December, 1984       

The Profound Mystery of Marriage (Part 2)

Today is Independence Day, and it also would have been my dad's 76th birthday. Thinking of him today made me wonder what advice he would have given my daughter Adrienne and her new husband Earl on the occasion of their wedding last Saturday. It didn't take me long to find a clue in one of his sermons. I suspect that Grandpa Bill might have told Adri and EJ about the "profound mystery" of marriage - that spouses feel most fulfilled and empowered not when they are focused on meeting their own needs, but when each of them is focused on the needs of the other in "mutual subjection" to one another. Dad called this mutual subjection the "binding agent" of a successful marriage union.

EJ & Adri @ Tyler Gardens, Bucks Co. C. College

"What is it about being subject to one another, out of reverence for Christ, that creates such a union?

We must be careful about how we talk about this because subjection is not a welcome word in our society. Today the by-words are freedom, liberty, doing your own thing, self-actualization. Many modern marriages fail because this is the dominant philosophy of both parties. 

There is nothing wrong per se with this modern drive to discover self, find fulfillment, and get the most out of life. The only problem is that in the plan of God, the way to life is not going directly after it. You remember the words of Jesus: 'For whoever would save his life will lose it; and whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it.'

It is really hard to describe, but no less true, that in serving the needs of another one discovers and strengthens oneself. And if this is true in general for all relationships, it is doubly true for marriage, the most intimate of all relationships. Here a wonderful cycle of giving and receiving is set in motion. The more I give to my partner the stronger her self-esteem grows, and the more she is able to give to me, and on and on the cycle goes.

The conventional wisdom is that subjection is galling and demeaning to the subject. But in the context of mutual subjection in marriage, nothing could be further from the truth. It's true that if you have a low self-image, subjection galls you because it seems to speak to your inferiority. A person with a weak ego is threatened by the servant role. But in the case of the mutual subjection of marriage, at the same time you are being a servant to your partner, she is being a servant to you. In serving you she is affirming that you are worthy and lovable. Thus, feeling good about yourself, you are able to serve her needs without feeling demeaned by this subjection.

It is truly a profound mystery, but it works! It really does, and it gives one of the deepest satisfactions and provides one of the greatest sources of strength available this side of heaven." 

So there is Grandpa Bill's marriage advice for you, Adrienne and EJ. May it serve you well, as you each serve the other.  I love you both. -Dad

From: "Christian Marriage - A Profound Mystery"
Scripture: Ephesians 5:21-33
Preached August 21, 1988 at
Paoli United Methodist Church 

The Profound Mystery of Marriage (Part 1)

Several people have asked me why I hadn't posted anything new on this blog of late. Truth is, I've been busier than usual. Last weekend was my daughter Adrienne's wedding. She married a wonderful young man named Earl, who I'm proud to call my son-in-law now. Here's a look at the bride and her groom:

Earl & Adrienne

When Adrienne and Earl chose a passage of scripture to be read at their wedding ceremony, they passed over Paul's famous instructions for wives and husbands set out in Chapter 5 of Ephesians:

"Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands as you do to the Lord. For the husband is head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church. ... Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her[.] ... This is a profound mystery[.]" Ephesians 5:21-23, 25, 32 (NIV).

I'm not surprised that Adrienne and Earl didn't select this passage for their wedding ceremony. My daughter definitely views marriage as a partnership of equals, not as a chain of command - with the husband at the top no less. Let's be honest: plenty of bad "Christian" marriage advice has flowed from Paul's admonition that wives should "submit" to their husbands. But I wonder if Adri and EJ might have reconsidered these verses if they had heard what Grandpa Bill had to say about them in a sermon he preached about marriage. My dad wrote:

"This passage is like a seed that holds the promise of what marriage later became in the Christian tradition. Of course, in Paul's day, wives were subject to their husbands in both the Jewish and Greek communities. If you were to suggest the equality of the sexes to anyone in the first century, even in the church, you would have been laughed out of the room. Women were property, not persons.

With this in mind, a passage that said, 'Wives, be subject to your husbands,' came as a breath of fresh air to its readers because of what it also said, because of all the qualifiers it added. It said that husbands should love their wives to the point of self-sacrifice. It said that marriage is a true union of husband and wife, so that the way a man treats his wife is ultimately the way he treats himself. 

All of this was a 'profound mystery' says Ephesians. Now, marriage was not a profound mystery to first century men living in a man's world. It was a matter of comfort and convenience; it was a matter of economic necessity; it was a matter of ensuring one's own posterity; but it was not a profound mystery! 

Paul, and other first century Christians, began to liberate marriage from this bondage. They didn't yet realize all of the ramifications of this, but they did know that men and women had to sit together at the Lord's Table, and that Paul had said some startling things like 'in Christ there is nether male nor female.' This didn't automatically result in a full-blown doctrine of Christian marriage. Nevertheless, considering the cultural and historical context, these verses were revolutionary! The seed was sown for the unfolding of the profound mystery of Christian marriage.

Verse 21 is that seed in its essence. The writer could have stopped here and said it all. This is the Word of God on Christian marriage: 'Be subject to one another out of reverence for Christ.' This is the timeless foundation on which believers build their marriage unions. Did the old writer know what he was saying? In an age of  male dominance and female subservience, did he know he was espousing 'mutual subjection,' wife to husband and husband to wife? Was this a slip of the pen, or was it the Spirit giving us the Word?

Time has told, and continuing revelation has given us the answer: what holds a Christian marriage together and makes it work is not romance, not good sex, not a legal marriage contract, not psychological compatibility - but mutual subjection. Mutual subjection is at the heart of the profound mystery of the marriage union. It is the binding agent." In the words of Ephesians, it is how "the two will become one flesh."  Ephesians 5:31 (NIV).

From: "Christian Marriage - A Profound Mystery"

Scripture: Ephesians 5:21-33

Preached: August 21, 1988

Paoli United Methodist Church

A New Church Is Born

April 23, 2018 is the 50th Anniversary of the birth of The United Methodist Church. It's the church in which I was raised. It's the church in which my father first, and later my wife, answered God's call to ministry. Flipping through some of my dad's sermons, I found one he preached just weeks after the 1968 merger that produced the United Methodist Church. Here's some of what he had to say about that union:

"Amid pomp, drama and color, the United Methodist Church became a reality at 9:49 AM on Tuesday, April 23, 1968 as two bishops joined hands over a cluster of symbolic documents. Bishop Reuben H. Mueller of the former Evangelical United Brethren Church and Bishop Lloyd C. Wicke of the former Methodist Church joined their voices in saying, 'Lord of the Church, we are united in thee, in thy Church, and now in The United Methodist Church.' Then, 10,000 persons filling the Dallas Memorial Auditorium exclaimed in one booming benediction, 'Amen!'

And so it was done. A new church was born. In the twinkling of an eye, you and I as former Methodists and former Evangelical United Brethren became the inheritors of a church. Off and on since 1802 there had been union negotiations between Methodists, Evangelicals and United Brethren. And then in this brief ceremony, 166 years of talking find a consummation."

The United Methodist Church was a product of the "ecumenical movement," and my father was quick to note that "[t]he word 'ecumenical' means the whole inhabited world. It means that all together we are one in Christ. It leaves no one out. Hence our subject this morning of 'Union with Unity.' You may have all the union you want, but it's all an empty sham unless that union is filled and flows over with unity. Church union without unity may be compared to the hollowness of what we call a 'marriage of convenience.' In true union, in true marriage, the parties must love each other. Love. That's what we're talking about, isn't it? We're all United Methodists now; that is a fact. But do we love each other? ...

Throughout the years of negotiations for this union, leaders on both sides were careful to point out that a new church was being formed. The product of a union, they said, would be a renewed church, not Methodist, not EUB, but entirely new. This assurance was probably felt to be necessary for the little EUBs, who may have felt a loss of identity from being swallowed up by a church ten times its size. This assurance probably was resented by some Methodists, who felt a certain smug complacency with their size and success. But, you know, somehow I always felt that this promise our leaders made us of a new church was something they couldn't deliver. They knew that, I'm sure, and so they meant it to us as a kind of challenge and not a promise. You and I make a new church by realizing our unity in Christ here and now.

Unity is a hard thing to come by even in this age when we talk so much about it and run around madly tying up unions. Still we are divided. All Christians cannot sit at the Lord's Table together; local churches cannot see their way clear to enter into group ministries; individuals within a local church can bicker and fuss and criticize and divide and paralyze. Too much ego; no room for love. Too much investment in self; no room for the mutual subjection Paul said was so necessary for a true marriage union.

Now practically speaking, how do we who are now united in the United Methodist Church receive this gift of unity that Christ offers us? Our differences, born in ego, can dissolve in our devotion to a common task to which we give our strength. Not just any task, but THE task - the only task worth our life's devotion - service to the King of Kings. 

Our sole purpose for unity within the church is to perform our ministry, our mission, our work in the world. Only as we plunge into that work, that mission, do we realize our unity. The 'church' does not refer to an organization; it is an action word describing a fellowship of people who are doing things, actively demonstrating to the world the Lordship of Jesus Christ in their lives. 

We get union by sitting down and talking about consolidating committees and drafting rules of order. We get unity by rolling up our sleeves and sweating and working together in our common mission.

Amid pomp, drama and color, the United Methodist Church became reality at 9:49 AM on Tuesday, April 23, 1968. Did it? That's up to us." 

From: "Union With Unity"
Scripture: John 17:6-21
Preached May 19, 1968
at Adams Shore Community Church
Quincy, Massachusetts

Christ in Disguise

I don't remember that horrible day when Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed in Memphis fifty years ago; I was only two years old when it happened. My father was 27, having graduated from seminary a year before to become the pastor of a small community church in Quincy, Massachusetts in the shadow of next-door Boston. King was murdered just three days before Palm Sunday. As other preachers no doubt did, my father sensed a contemporary version of Holy Week unfolding before him on the evening news. In his Palm Sunday sermon, my dad said this:  

"Palm Sunday is a tragic symbol of Jesus' brand of messiahship and our response to it. If there's anything that Palm Sunday points to, it is how fickle and insincere we really are. And to some extent it's a lack of understanding, too, I suppose. We don't understand what sort of messiah Jesus is, or if we do understand then we don't want him. Like the crowd at the Jerusalem gate, for a while Jesus appears to be fulfilling our fondest dreams. We want a warm, comfortable home, a good family to be proud of, a secure job, a friendly little church where we're all alike. Here comes a king who will secure it for us! 'Hosanna!'

'The king is coming! The king is coming!' Yes, the king is coming, but not as earthly kings with pomp and circumstance and every detail attended to. This king comes as the Christ, the suffering servant, riding on a borrowed donkey with a shabby crowd to greet him. The kingship of Christ is not seen in terms of a crown and a throne but rather in terms of a basin and towel as he washes his disciples' dirty feet. The kingdom of Christ is not seen in terms of a royal procession with him at the head but rather in terms of his teaching, 'whosoever would be first among you must be your servant.' 

Can't we see that he is riding a donkey? Can't we see that there is no splendor surrounding him at all? No, we can't see. Like the Jerusalem crowd we are blinded by our wishful thinking that finally a king has come to restore our Israel. It's only Palm Sunday now; we are cheering. Give Jesus the King just a week to force our hand, to make us demonstrate in a bloody way how we really feel about his brand of kingship, about his way to redemption.

You know, there is another very ironic sort of 'Palm Sunday happening' going on today and these last few days which clearly and cruelly points out what we've been saying here. Today we are shouting the praises of another king - The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.  We are piously yielding up our hosannas to this man who we say has been the champion of his people. Civil rights leaders, politicians, religious leaders, newsmen, even George Wallace -- are deploring the tragedy of his death and offering eulogies to this great man. In the mass of news that has been released so far, I have yet to hear a single negative comment about this great apostle of non-violence. We're all shouting 'Hosanna to King!'

But where were our hosannas while he was actually doing the non-violence, when he needed our support? Where were the politicians, the religious leaders, the newsmen and the George Wallaces when King was showing this nation that servant-hood meant leading a bus boycott or defending the cause of garbage men in Memphis? Where was this adoring crowd when King was saying that the way of the cross this summer would be a massive demonstration by the poor in Washington, D.C.? No. There were no hosannas then. There were only countless statements by public officials and editorials denouncing this self-styled messiah as un-American and un-Christian. All too frequently we heard someone yelling that terrible anathema, 'Communist!', and sounding curiously akin to another shout heard 2,000 years ago: 'Crucify him!' Yesterday, it was 'Crucify him!' Today he is dead, and it is 'Hosanna!'

The sequence of our emotions is reversed from that first 'Palm Sunday happening' to this one, but the dynamic is still the same. It is our sentimental cheering when the challenge of the Gospel is distant and our utter repulsion when the challenge of the Gospel is aimed point blank at our hearts. The happening has occurred. And similar happenings will, over and over again, whenever Christ in person, or Christ in the disguise of his many suffering servants, enters and challenges our way of living.

May God give us the grace to do more than shout 'Hosanna!' and waive a palm. May God give us the grace to be counted with Christ at his trial and death."

From: "The Happening"

Preached Palm Sunday, April 7, 1968

at Adams Shore Community Church 

Scripture: Luke 19:29-40  

Where's Calvary?

One thing that took me by surprise on my trip to the Holy Land was the existence of competing holy sites -- dueling locations where different groups contend that the same event from the Bible took place. My father was struck by the same thing when he visited Israel thirty years before me. He wrote: "Many of the holy places in Jerusalem rival one another in their claim to be the site where Jesus did this or that. While there, we visited the traditional and alternative sites of Calvary, also called Golgotha or the Place of the Skull, the site of the crucifixion.

Altar at Golgotha - Church of the Holy Sepulcher

The first one has a more ancient claim. It was the place designated in the 4th Century by Saint Helena, the mother of Constantine the first Christian Roman emperor, as the place where Jesus was crucified. It is nothing more than a small rocky outcrop no more than 14 meters high. Now built over this location is the magnificent but somewhat tarnished Basilica of the Holy Sepulcher, which is shared by Roman Catholic, Orthodox, and Armenian Christians. Under one of the altars in this church is a socket or hole in the floor where they will tell you the cross was erected. This is probably close to the actual place of the crucifixion, but somehow in the strange atmosphere of this ancient church I personally did not 'feel' close to the original Good Friday event -- that is, until later when I combined it with a visit to a rival site of the crucifixion.

Gordon's Calvary

North of Jerusalem's Damascus Gate is a rocky knoll which, British General Charles Gordon was one of the first to point out, resembles a skull. The hill is sometimes called Gordon's Calvary, and it is preserved in its natural state. However, as you stand on the visitors' overlook, visualizing what may have taken place on this hill outside the city 2,000 years ago, it is impossible to block out the mundane sights and diesel smells of a bus station immediately below it. There people come and go, doing the everyday business of Jerusalem, with never a glance up at the supposedly sacred hill above them. It was a dramatic moment for me as I realized that wherever the real Calvary was, there may well have been nearby, not a bus station, but a depot for the unloading and loading of camel caravans, a place of commerce and business with people scurrying about as unheeding as they were that rainy afternoon of my visit. Jesus died in the world, for the world.

That dual experience of being at two supposed places of the crucifixion of my Lord Jesus Christ left me with a question: Where is Calvary?

Now I know that Calvary is wherever the dynamics of the Calvary event take place. Calvary is wherever the Lord's people slink away and forsake him while others, whom you would never suspect, recognize him and pay homage to him. One of the saddest verses in the Bible is Mark 14:50 where Mark reports what the disciples, Jesus' friends, did immediately upon his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane: 'They all forsook him and fled.'  And so it was not one of the twelve, but a stranger from Cyrene, who carried his cross. It was not one of the inner circle, but a dying thief, who expressed belief in him. It was not a friend, but a Roman Centurion, who said 'Truly this man was the son of God.' It was not a disciple, but one from his group of enemies in the Sanhedrin, who took his body, prepared it for burial, and laid it in a tomb.

One recent Sunday afternoon, as I was busily trying to get ready for confirmation class, a battered old car rattled up to the church carrying a young couple who I judged from years of experience with these things to be looking for someone who would listen to their story and then assist them with money for food or gas. I was in the hall near my study grumbling to myself about what poor timing this was and how I couldn't deal with this interruption right now. A few minutes passed, and although I knew the couple had entered the church, I thought it strange that they hadn't yet come looking for me. I went to the narthex to see what was up, and there they were in the sanctuary praying! They finished and came out to me in the narthex and asked where they could make a donation to the church. I showed them the donation box. They put something in and left, and I was greatly taken aback and humbled. Who was faithful to the crucified Lord that day? Who stood by him? The annoyed and busy clergyman of this very proper church, or the rag-tag couple who came in to pray?

Where is Calvary? Calvary is wherever Jesus' followers forsake him while others surprisingly rise up to praise him and minister in his name. Calvary is many places:

• As Pilate discovered, Calvary is wherever you decide to do the expedient thing rather than the right thing, where you're willing to make human life secondary to political necessity. Calvary is wherever you hand the Christ over to the angry crowd for crucifixion.

• As Peter found out, Calvary is wherever you compromise what you know in your heart to be good and true in order to save your own skin. Calvary is wherever you deny that you know Jesus.

• As Judas must have finally realized, Calvary is wherever we turn against those who have disappointed us and have not lived up to our expectations. Calvary is wherever you betray your Lord.

Calvary is not in an ornate basilica or on a hill overlooking a bus station. Ultimately, Calvary is in our hearts. The old hymn asks, 'Were you there when they crucified my Lord?' Yes, all of us were there. Some have shouted the curses; some have driven the nails; some have gambled for his garments; some have just run away, but all of us were there. And the Gospel in the midst of all of this is that Jesus looks down upon us from his cross and he says, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.'

It is this word from the cross, this word of forgiveness, that gives us hope. This is the word that brought eleven miserable, frightened, and guilt-ridden disciples out of hiding and turned them into the powerhouse that the early church became. It is the word that will free you and me to move on past our Calvary to the Easter we are longing for."

From:"Where's Calvary?"

Scripture: Mark 15:21-47

Preached: March 27, 1988

at Paoli United Methodist Church  

World's Greatest Valentine

Isn't it strange that Ash Wednesday falls on Valentine's Day this year? One holiday is a somber day for reflection, a day to repent for our missteps and failings, the beginning of Lent's 40 days of self-sacrifice to prepare for Easter. The other holiday is a time for romance, for extravagant celebrations of love and lovers. Ashes and fasting versus roses and fine chocolates. How odd - even jarring - to have both holidays on the same day. And yet, maybe it's fitting to have Ash Wednesday and Valentine's Day happening on the same day.

"On Ash Wednesday, many of our Christian brothers and sisters receive the mark of ashes on their foreheads. As the mark of ashes is made, the priest pronounces the words, 'Remember that thou art dust, and to dust thou shalt return.' The ashes are a symbol of humility and repentance. The ashes remind us that we have nothing to boast of, that we will not live forever, that morally we are something less than perfect. On Ash Wednesday we are told what most of us already know all too well -- that alienation from God and from each other is a fundamental fact of our existence.

The question that burns, then, deep in our hearts is: How can we be lifted out of this helpless state? The answer that, hopefully, we will learn along our Lenten journey this year is that God's reaction is not to condemn us, but to save us ... by loving us. 

What does a suitor do when his or her verbal professions of love are not heard or are rebuffed by the beloved? Quite often he or she steps up the campaign to a higher level by turning from mere words to acts of love and devotion. The old stand-bys are flowers, candy, or other gifts.

As we move into Lent, God, the 'hound of heaven,' who has been pursuing his wayward world for centuries through the words of the prophets, is about to step up his campaign. He is about to act personally, not through the spoken word, but through the incarnate Word, his Son, Jesus, to show us how much he loves us.

The Cross is God's great act of love for us. It is a graphic display of God reaching down and providing a way for us to lift our heads and become really human - in the highest, most wonderful sense of that word. The whole rationale for the cross is that I am helpless to free myself from cares and troubles and worry and idolatry and all the evils that enslave me, so God provides a man, a man just like me in all respects but one - he is free from sin. The man is Jesus Christ. So if I bind myself to him in faith, I can rely on his obedience, his righteousness, his victory. He can count for me before God.

What grabs me the most, what changes me down to the core, is the realization that God loved me and thought enough of me, valued me so highly, that he sent his Son to die for me. He did that all for me! What affirmation I feel when I realize how far God was willing to go to save me. Can I do any less than to so love and affirm you?" 

The best relationships make us better people. That's certainly true of a relationship with God. Understanding how much God loves you -- ashes and all -- is life-changing. When you are filled with gratitude for that love, and when you realize that God loves your neighbor just as much, how can you help but extend God's love to your neighbor, too? What starts out as Ash Wednesday ends as Valentine's Day -- between us and God, and between us and our neighbors. That's a February 14th to remember.

From: "Love's Last Invitation,"
"Ashes," & "Ash Wednesday Meditation - 1988"

Doing The Impossible

One of the many memorable stops on my tour of the Holy Land was the Church of the Primacy of Saint Peter.  The church is situated along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, where a small beach meets the tree line.  The most conspicuous feature of this otherwise unremarkable little church is its foundation. The church rests upon a large, exposed formation of limestone.  The outcropping of rock, sometimes called "the Place of the Coals," is held by church tradition to be the spot where the resurrected Jesus appeared to Peter and some other disciples while they were fishing and made them breakfast over a fire. You can read about it in the last chapter of John's gospel, which you can find here.

Church of the Primacy of Saint Peter
Tabgha, Israel

When I recently read a sermon my father had preached on New Year's Day of 1978, I learned that one of the churches he served - Grace United Methodist Church in Millersville, PA - also was know for a vein of limestone beneath it. Here's how Dad told the story:

"In our Grace Church in Millersville, just after the Second World War, the returning veterans got together and dug out, by hand, a much needed basement room under the red brick church - a real testimony to their faith and devotion. But when the minimum basement area had been achieved, enthusiasm waned. Some argued that the project should be completed, and the entire area under the church building should be excavated. Others said, "No," citing their increased encounters with rock as they had dug in a easterly direction. Ultimately, the naysayers carried the day, and the project was brought to a close. 

Over the years that followed, the tale about the rock grew and grew until the lore was that the church was sitting upon a veritable Rock of Gibraltar. Finally, during my time there [in the 1970's], we reached the point where additional basement space was much needed for our programs. The few naysayers who were there objected on the basis of money, on the basis of need, but most especially on the basis of the huge vein of Lancaster County limestone that everyone knew was there. But the faith that this basement project was the will of God for Grace Church prevailed. The venerable old sanctuary was shored-up for construction, and a mini-bulldozer was sent underneath it to dig out our new basement. And do you know, there was virtually no rock found under that building?

From that point on, enthusiasm for the project multiplied. Needed funds were quickly raised. These and other confirmations came, reassuring us that what we were doing was God's will. The project was finished with a great crescendo of praise to God.

Ever since, I have taken this as more than just a real-life experience. For me, it is a parable that points beyond itself to the question of whether or not we have the courage to answer God's call to do the impossible. Some of our fears are well-founded, based on real rocks; other are not. But in neither case can we afford to let our fears make our decision for us, if that decision is to avoid doing the new thing God is calling us to do.

Does God want it done? Does God want you to do it? If the answer to both of those questions is, "Yes," then you can do it, no matter how impossible it seems on the surface. The promise we are given in Scripture is that with God all things are possible. Believing this, we come to see that when we doubt our ability to accomplish something that is within God's will, we are not really doubting ourselves; we are doubting the power of God."

As Peter approached the resurrected Jesus, who had prepared breakfast for his disciples on the rocky shore on the Sea of Galilee, Peter must had felt both exhilarated and mortified. Here was Peter's Lord, who was very much alive! But here too was a dear friend, whom Peter had abandoned. On the night of Jesus's arrest, Peter had denied three times that he even knew Jesus. The next day, the Romans executed Jesus.

A sign in Jerusalem pointing to
the place where Peter denied Jesus

Peter no doubt figured God was through with him at that point. Fishing seemed like the only thing Peter still was good for. Anything more was impossible. But God wanted something done, and God wanted Peter to do it.

After their fire-side breakfast on the rocky shore of the Sea of Galilee, the resurrected Jesus asked Peter three times whether Peter loved him. Peter responded, thrice professing his love for Jesus. Then Jesus said to Peter, "Follow me!" - just as Jesus had done when he first called Peter to be his disciple. With that renewed call to action, Jesus made the impossible possible again. Peter was back in the business of partnering with God to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to earth.

What is God calling you to do in the New Year ahead? Do you think it's impossible? Think again.

From: "Doing The Impossible"
Scripture: Mark 9:14-29
Preached January 1, 1978
Calvary United Methodist Church
Easton, PA