In the Gospels when someone asks Jesus to have mercy on them they are asking Him to share of himself, that they might be made whole.  As one body of Christ, and as a part of the larger body of Christ, that is our calling, God’s vision for our church.

A little over a month ago Jenn Lebow began Mercy Mondays on her blog.  I have been meaning to join in ever since but this week’s prompt really got me thinking.  She asked about groups or organization who are spreading mercy.  This, of course, made me think of Bethany, and whether or not we are spreading mercy.  I thought about God’s vision for our church and realized that sharing mercy, in the Gospel sense, was really what it was all about.  But are we following God’s vision for us?

The answer is a “Yes and…”  Yes, we have people sharing the gifts and experiences God has given them.  ”And” we are going to continue to get better at doing so.

“Yes” we had a member talking about his past struggles, sharing how the mercy of this congregation has helped him have another chance.  ”And” others will learn to share how they have experienced mercy because of him and his sharing.

“Yes” we had a member share the ministry he experienced with prisoners, how through these imprisoned men God spoke to him and showed him what freedom looked like.  ”And” because of his sharing others have started seeking their own freedom.

“Yes” our doors have opened for the homeless, both literally and spiritually.  ”And” they have had the chance to find themselves, and helped me find myself.

That’s the great thing about being an organization of mercy, the mercy cycles back around, and continues to spread out.  It grows, so fast that we think it will have to stop soon.  In fact, it can be scary thinking that it will.  But it doesn’t.  It just spreads, going wider and deeper all at the same time.

I’m realizing that “Yes” we are an organization the acts out mercy and holds mercy as a core value.  ”And” we will continue to grow in that mercy, allowing it to deepen us as it widens to draw others in.

When you pass by that woman sitting in the median with a sign reading, “No job, three kids, nothing to eat, please help” what do you think?

If you’re like me you wonder whether or not she actually needs help, has three kids, could find a job if she wanted to. You wonder if she is really a drug addict, or, if she is in need of food why she appears to be overweight. If you are a little more generous than me you might wonder how she ended up in the situation, or if a few dollars is really going to make any kind of difference. For most of us the natural inclination is to at least critically assess the situation before deciding whether or not we should help. But why?

Why is our natural inclination when we see someone holding up a sign asking for help to critically determine whether or not they really need help, or if they are worth our help? We don’t want to be used or taken advantage of. There may be some other reasons, but we really don’t want to be taken. We are taught to be wary of those who would try to use us, take advantage of us or con us out of what is rightfully ours. And so we ask these questions in order to avoid being taken advantage of, as a kind of defense mechanism. And, usually, if we ask the questions long enough the light will turn green before we get the chance to help.

There are plenty of legitimate and valid reasons for these questions as well, but this particular reason is a lie. It’s a lie that we tell ourselves both to protect ourselves/what’s ours and assuage our own guilt. The idea that being used is a bad thing is antithetical to a life well lived, especially from the standpoint of faith. We all want to be useful, we all want to have something to offer to someone. The reality is not that we don’t want to be used, it’s that we want to dictate the terms by which we are used.

The problem with this is that we may not always know how we can best be useful, where we might be most useful or to whom we might be most useful. We are likely to miss out on wonderful chances to do some real good in the world because we want to be in control of our usefulness. Thus, many moments and opportunities are squandered, not because there was just nothing to be done, but because we were more interested in our own control and desires than in doing good.

This is where the art of being used comes in. Rather than seeking to be useful, which tends towards our desires and controls, we should seek opportunities to be used. We should look for chances where we can say, here I am, what can I do. When we do this God can speak, God can help us see, know and do things that we otherwise might have missed. This is the art of being used – recognizing the beauty of taking a chance to bring forth goodness rather than only doing something that has been rationally decided upon.

Back to that woman in the median. Maybe I am asking the wrong questions. Maybe we all are. Rather than trying to deduce something we could never actually know and then acting based on that deduction maybe we should be asking: What can I do? How can I be used? Whether it is our money, our time or even just just a kind smile and a wave, we just never know how we can best be used until we are there and we ask.

Maybe we should remember another story about someone beside the road needing help. Others passed by, trying to deduce the cost and reward of being useful and just kept walking. But the Good Samaritan asked a different question: How can I be used?

I am rich beyond measure.  I have so much that I will never run out of and I can give away freely without concern for the future.  Ministers aren’t supposed to be rich, but I am – just not in the traditional sense.

Sunday, June 3rd, was one of the most difficult days  in the life of Bethany and as difficult a worship service as I have ever led.  We lost a wonderful man who added a great deal of life, energy and love to our congregation far too early.  We mourned our loss, prayed for his wife and their daughter and all those who were also mourning.  We remembered him and sought to learn from the example that his life left for us.  At the beginning of the service and again at the end of the service we paid each other in the currency that matters most to churches, the currency I realized makes me rich, the currency Tom used with people and with animals (he was a veterinarian), hugs.

You may wonder how hugs are a currency but I am starting to wonder how we have never seen them as such.  The American currency is the dollar, a representation of monetary value or worth.  There is nothing that makes a dollar worth anything other than the fact that we all recognize it as what it is meant to represent.  Well, if a dollar is a representation of monetary worth then why can’t hugs be a representation of human value and worth.  Not just hugs, but any kind of physical act meant to convey love, grace, comfort, and hope.  Shouldn’t this be the currency of the church?

It’s kind of funny and kind of sad that we have thousands of books on money espousing so many different theories all based on a system that is purely a human construct.  But we don’t have much in the way of books on hugs, or even the importance of physical gestures of caring.  At the end of the day, though, we mourn those who offered those kinds of gestures, we most miss those who were most adept at showing love, at using this different kind of currency.  Sure, the rich and famous get the big headlines, but the impact is not as deep, except with those they knew and loved and those who knew and loved them.

Jesus was asked a question about paying taxes and responded by saying that that which is Caesar’s should be rendered unto Caesar.  It seems to me that He was saying that coins were valuable to Caesar and the Roman empire but they were nothing more than a construct, they were false and unimportant.  If Caesar wants the coins, then give them to him, because there are things that are more important.  Then they asked, if this doesn’t matter what does?  Jesus said, Love.  Love the Lord your God with everything, and love your neighbor as yourself.

We will miss Tom because of his love for us, for children, youth, adults and for all of God’s creatures.  He traded heavily in this currency.  It is also a currency that is always left behind, in limitless amounts for all who need it.  All we have to do is think about the sound of his walking stick, his big grinning face and those long arms opened wide for a hug.  He was rich, as we all are, when we trade in that currency.

I am a preacher, which is probably the least important thing I could do at a church or as a Christian.  I didn’t always think this way, in fact my personal email address begins with imapreacher because I used to think it was the most important thing I could do.  But, I’ve come to realize that preaching alone is indeed the least important thing I do.

This past Sunday we had a young man baptized, recognized two high school graduates, celebrated the announcement of our new secretary, cheered a marriage celebrating it’s 68th anniversary and had three new members join.  That’s a pretty fantastic Sunday for our little church.  Guess how much of it happened because of my sermon on Sunday.  Guess how much of it had little to nothing to do with any sermon I have preached since arriving at Bethany nearly three years ago.

Paul wrote that within the Body of Christ the least important members are given the places of honor, while the most important members are often the least honored.  We make a big deal about the sermon, the quality of a preacher and the importance of the sermon to the worship service, but I think Paul is dead on with his assessment.  That place which has become most honored, the preacher, within the Body is actually of less importance while those that aren’t as honored are of far more importance.

I’m not trying to beat myself up or degrade what I do, as a pastor I know that much of what I do is important.  As a preacher, though, the words don’t mean as much as I had once assumed they would.  The reason for this is that words are easy.  It doesn’t cost us much to speak words.  There are some times when that is not true, sometimes words require us to take a chance and to be willing to face consequences.  Most of the time, though, words by themselves are hollow and relatively ineffectual.

The way that we live, on the other hand, has consequences, influences and results that words alone can never have.  How we use our lives, our time and our talents all requires far more of us than words, and therefore they have a much greater effect on those around us.  Actions and lives have real, tangible effects, as well as real, tangible costs.  They go deeper in the life of the person doing the living and the acting, and they go deeper in the lives of those they touch.

The three men who joined the church on Sunday, as well as the one who was baptized, were all deeply influenced by a man who lived out his faith.  Tom Fore was a great friend and a great example of service and love to all three and it is because of that influence, more than anything else, that the three of them joined this Sunday, the day after Tom’s funeral.  Tom spoke many words in his life, in fact he preached a couple of times here at Bethany.  But more than anything else he lived a life that showed deep faith, huge amounts of love and abiding joy.  And that speaks volumes.

As I sit at my desk today I am watching a 16 year old young lady being taught to drive by her grandfather. The excitement on her face as she got out of the passenger seat and ran around the front of the car was palpable, even from across the parking lot. This is a sort of right of passage in many parts of our society, receiving the learners permits, learning to drive and finally getting the license to drive on your own. As with any right of passage, first wisdom must be imparted, talents gained, and numerous hours of practice put in. The work is not done only by the learner, the young lady in this case, but also by those with the experience and wisdom to impart, the grandfather.

At some point after completing the right of passage, the young lady will receive that which makes her so excited, some modicum of freedom and possibility will open to her which was not previously available. She will be handed the keys to a car and she will be given the opportunity to use what she has learned, from the instruction and experience of her grandfather, and from the experience she has received in our parking lot. She will use this new talent to open up new possibilities and to live life in her own way. The experience and wisdom passed on to her by her grandfather will not be used in the same way he has used, but for something new and different, for it is her life that she is living, not his. That is what rights of passage are all about, preparing someone with the wisdom and experience of generations in order to help bring about new life.

All of this raises a question for me about the church, where are our rights of passage? I know, our right of passage, in a believers baptism church, is baptism, or confirmation in a church that baptizes infants. But, does this really do the same thing as a right of passage elsewhere in the world. It fits, in that we pass on knowledge and experience through pastor/confirmation class, but it seems lacking in the handing over the keys after we are done. Sure, those who have completed the class are welcomed as members and offered communion, but, that is doing the same thing with what they have been given as has always been done. Where is the freedom, possibility and opportunity that is supposed to come along with a right of passage? We, as in the Church, still have some learning to do when it comes to empowering believers for ministry.

On the same day about a month ago the final Shuttle Mission was launched and the Debt Ceiling was reached. Simultaneously we were reminded of our seemingly limitless reach and our occasional refusal to put it to use. In many ways, this is the paradox of modern life, a simultaneous state of awe over our realized potential and our continued failures. We can reach the moon and the sun but we can’t seem to learn how to live together with people who are different. Why is it that for every moment of reaching space we seem to have one hundred moments of stubborn refusal to use our talents for creative purposes?

There are many reasons we don’t realize our potential, and most of them boil down to one of three things, underestimating our potential, overestimating our potential, or being indifferent to our potential. Taking them in reverse order, indifference is a great threat in a society which believes it has it made and things don’t need to get much better, as long as they don’t get worse. We have shelter, food, clothing and safety, plus the opportunity to gain more of all the above, why would we care too much about our potential.

For people who know they are talented overestimating our potential is a very real danger. When I played basketball as a child my dad was the coach. He would always brag that at the end of games he could pull me aside and tell me that he needed me to turn it on and I would. I had learned that I didn’t need my best all the time, I was good enough without it for most sitations and I could trust it to be there when I needed it. There is not much in life that requires fully realizing our potential, though, and it never gets used even though we know it is there.

While both of these can be dangerous they do not close off potential, just lower the odds that it will be realized. Underestimating potential, on the other hand, eliminates it altogether. When we understimate potential we say it can’t be done and we limit what we are capable of. The Good News isn’t just a story from two thousand years ago, it is that we are created with the potential to transcend all limits, even death. The Good News is that the stories of a world redeemed which seem impossible are possible, that God’s creation is crackling with that potential. The Good News opens up the possibilities before us, and reminds us that when we set ourselves to do something, even the impossible, we have the potential to reach the limitless heavens.

It’s amazing how quickly after any kind of disaster people begin to claim to know why or how something happened or who is to blame, even in the cases of natural disasters.  Whether it is Christian leaders, pop stars, politicians or athletes, people seem to trip over each other trying to be the first to offer up an explanation, often times not even stopping to think before they pronounce judgment.  A quick sampling can remind us that people have said that terrorists attacked America because of homosexuality, the earthquake in Haiti was caused by a deal with the devil, Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans because it is a city full of sin, and, now, among other things Japan has been hit by an earthquake, that then caused a tsunami, that then caused nuclear plants to move towards meltdowns, because of Pearl Harbor.

Whether seen through the lens of a vengeful God or karmic retribution these statements are reprehensible and show a greater concern to feel comforted and safe than they do for the lives that have been lost and those who teeter on the brink of disaster.  We have such a great desire to feel like we understand something so tragic so that we can feel like we can avoid it.  It gives us a sense of control over our lives when we have been confronted by something so far beyond our control or our understanding.  We build our lives around the idea that we can control them, that we can understand them, and we cannot let go of this, even if it means laying blame implicitly or explicitly at the feet of the victims of such a tragedy.

This does not simply lay the blame at the feet of the victims, though, it also lays the blame at the feet of the God who is proclaimed to be a God of love.  This problem shows itself in our language about tragedy, as we call what happened in New Orleans, Haiti and Japan “Acts of God”.  It also shows itself when honest atheistic and agnostic people ask Christians to explain how God can allow something like this to happen, or possibly even cause it.  I have sought an answer to this question many times, and while I think I can touch on the subject, I certainly cannot explain it beyond a reasonable doubt.  Many of my answers, such as free will or God is there with those who suffer, fall short of what I wish I knew and could report to those asking the questions.

All I can say is this, God is big enough to take the blame from those seeking to discredit God but Christians don’t do any good suggesting God acts heinously; the victims deserve our prayers and help not our blame; I do not believe this or other tragedies to be “Acts of God”; and God is there with the victims seeking to comfort, heal and restore and we should be doing the same.

“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.”  ~Gimli, “The Lord of the Rings”

Today is the beginning of the Lenten Season, which has become a time to give up one of your favorite things for forty days.  (It’s okay, you can cheat on Sundays.)  Whether you are giving up chocolate, soda, television, facebook or anything else, it has primarily become a time to change on the surface, and only as a symbol of what you are willing to give up for God.  As soon as Lent is over we oftentimes gorge ourselves on whatever it is we have given up.  So, then, what is the purpose of Lent, what good does it do, and is it a worthwhile endeavor at all?

If this is all Lent is, then no, it is not really worthwhile because we are not doing anything that could change us.  There are many things that Lent is supposed to be about as a season, and I don’t intend to cover them all here, just one.  Lent is, or at least can be, about journeying with the Messiah from the relative safety and comfort of a normal life towards a life of sacrifice, from the chasing after ease at all costs towards seeking the Kingdom of God in an oftentimes hostile world.

This journey is certainly not for the faint of heart, nor is it for those who want their faith to do something for them instead of asking something of them.  This road will darken the further we travel down it, and it will test us to the depths of our faith.  This is indeed the road that led to the Messiah’s suffering and crucifixion, and to the death of many of His followers in the early church.  This is a road that leads many to say farewell to following Christ.

But it is the fact that the road darkens that calls us to follow the Messiah down it.  If we are truly people of the light then the road which darkens is where we are called to shine our light.  It does not do us any good to shine our light where there is already light, but where there is darkness our light is needed.  This is the journey which Lent beckons us on, the journey that shapes our faith, that strengthen our character and provides us the opportunity to do something tangible.  I hope that we are not found to be faithless during this journey.

“Again, you heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not break your oath, but keep the oaths you have made to the Lord.’  But I tell you, Do not swear at all.”  ~Matthew 5:33-34

Recently, I saw a new commercial on TV for a movement called “Keep the Promise”.  There is a guy sitting at a table in a restaurant waiting on someone.  He pulls out an engagement ring and says, “God, if she can just say yes, I promise I’ll…”  The scene pauses and the words “Keep the Promise” appear on screen.  I appreciate what this campaign is attempting to do, and I especially applaud that for each promise kept there is something tangible being done for those who otherwise would have to go without.  At the same time, I think it is time to change the conversation on this topic, not just encourage people to follow through on their promises made in desperation.

The leading reason I think it is time to change the conversation is because Jesus said as much.  In response to the ideology which is being espoused by “Keep the Promise” and many others Jesus says, “No, don’t do that, don’t do it at all in any way.  Don’t keep your promises, never make them.”  He says  that we shouldn’t swear by anything because, well, anything we could swear by we don’t have control over.  Just do what you say you will do and don’t do what you say you won’t do.

But that still doesn’t necessarily answer the why.  I think there are probably a large number of reasons.  I want to cover three of them.  First, I think that when we make these kinds of promises we are trying to take control over something that we currently can’t control and shouldn’t control.  To use the example of the guy waiting to propose, he is trying to control the answer of his hoped-for wife.  Probably not the best way to start a relationship, trying to control the other person.  But, beyond this particular example, we turn to God with these kinds of pleas because we know that God can control the things that we can’t and we want God to do that for us.  In return, we will give our first born child, or an hour a week studying scripture, or regular worship attendance, or twenty percent of our future earnings, whatever it is that we think of to offer God.  And so, we hope that our offering is good enough for God to allow us control that we currently don’t and shouldn’t have control over.

The second problem is that when we try this bargaining we are suggesting that we should only do the right thing if we get something in return.  When Jesus says let your yeses be yeses and your nos nos he is saying do what’s right because it is a good thing and don’t do what’s wrong because it is a bad thing.  In the end, it’s not only what we do that matters but why we do it.  If we will only do the right thing because there is something in it for us then we won’t do it when there is nothing in it for us, and that is not what followers of Christ should base their actions on.

Finally, when we make deals with God it shows a lack of faith and trust that God cares for us, wants what is good for us and knows better than we do what is good.  This does not mean that we shouldn’t talk to God about our wants and desires, or have a relationship with God that is open and honest.  What it means is that when we try to bargain with God we aren’t talking about the good and bad of something we want, just trying to get it.  But God doesn’t want these offerings, God wants us, wants a relationship with us where we talk about our wants, fears, problems and joys.  If we bargain with God we are shortchanging God and ourselves.  So, no, we shouldn’t make promises.  We should do what’s right no matter what is in it for us and engage God about our desires, our inadequacies, and all of our lives.

One of my favorite hymns is “I Love to Tell the Story”.  I have always loved this hymn and have always associated it with Easter because of how wonderful the Easter Story is.  I do love to tell the story and I love to hear the story; of how the women went to the tomb and found it empty; of how Peter and John raced to the tomb and found it empty; of the many ways in which Jesus appeared to His followers; and especially of Jesus’ resurrection.  There is just nothing like this story and not just because someone rose from the dead, there are other stories of resurrection in the Bible.  It is also not just because of the forgiveness of sins, although I certainly like that part.  It is not just because the miraculous empty tomb or the angel, or angels, that appeared to those at the tomb.  I love to hear and tell the story because of the story to which it is connected.  I love to hear and tell the story because it is a part of the story of Jesus Christ.

One thing that we lose in the midst of Holy Week, in the midst of the triumphal entry, the institution of the Lord’s Supper, the arrest of Jesus, and His crucifixion, death and resurrection is the story of His life and ministry.  When we connect Jesus’ ministry and teachings with His death and resurrection it paints the world in a whole new way.  When Jesus tells to not worry it is backed up by His courage in going through the crucifixion.  When Jesus tells us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us He backs it up with his prayers from the cross, and with the assurance of the resurrection.  When Jesus proclaimed good news for the poor and release to the captives He backed it up by showing that there is a hope beyond this world.  When Jesus proclaimed that He was here to establish a new Kingdom He showed that this Kingdom could come without violence and earthly power.  Everything that Jesus proclaimed in His earthly ministry, much of which still seems crazy and bordering on dangerous, was validated in the story of Holy Week.

But that is only part of why I love to hear and tell the story.  The other part is that we get to be a part of the story.  We are called to continue that story as a part of the body of Christ.  The story does not end with Easter Day, and it doesn’t end on the last page of the Bible.  The story continues to be written as the Body of Christ continues His ministry in the world.  We are all a part of that story, and in the hearing and telling of the story we can find new ways to integrate ourselves into it.  We get to be a part of the greatest story ever told.

Grace and Peace,

Pastor Ben

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