Category: FPC Rolla

Jonathan Kimball wrote this sermon to be preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on August 13, 2023, using Matthew 14:22-33. Due to illness, he was unable to preach, and Susan Murray preached a modified version. The podcast reflects her changes, which add a different perspective.

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We’re about in the middle of Matthew and pretty far along in Jesus’s ministry. Let me back up to an earlier scene. Matthew 5-7 is the Sermon on the Mount, probably the greatest sermon ever preached. Afterwards, people started following Jesus, and he decided to go across the Sea of Galilee with his disciples. A storm came up while Jesus slept. Finally, the disciples woke Jesus, and in Matthew 8:26, he rebuked the winds and the sea, and all was calm. The disciples said to each other, “What sort of person is this? Even the winds and the sea obey him!”

Fast forward to last week’s lesson. Jesus was preaching and a huge crowd gathered. The disciples want to send everyone away, but Jesus said, “No, you feed them. Here, give me whatever bread and fish you have, and I’ll help you.” They witness a great miracle where 5 loaves and 2 fish feed 5000 men plus some number of women and children. All ate and were satisfied.

Then Jesus sends the disciples away on the boat while he deals with the crowd. This can be read as foreshadowing the days of the early church. We often describe the church as a metaphorical ship. Indeed, look up at the ceiling of this church—it seems to have been designed to evoke the sense that we are inside a great ship. Throughout the first few centuries after Christ’s ascension, boats and ships were used in artwork to represent the nascent church.

So the disciples are all alone in the church, er, I mean, the boat. Have you ever been on the water in a storm? Terrifying, isn’t it? Especially at night. And the disciples didn’t have a radio, or lights, or binoculars, or anything. Dawn is approaching but the sun has not yet risen, and because of the storm, it was probably very dark. The Sea of Galilee isn’t huge, but it’s big enough to build up some good storms, and big enough to drown in. When you’re in a storm like that, you feel totally helpless. You can try to get the boat turned in such a way that the big waves won’t swamp you, but steering is nearly impossible.

The disciples have seen Jesus still a storm like this before. They just saw him feed 5000 men, besides women and children, with a meager offering of food. But Jesus isn’t there. They cannot imagine that Jesus can help them now. Sure, he helped them before, but that was then. This situation is totally different.

So then they see Jesus walking towards them and think it’s a ghost! Surely Jesus can’t just show up here, right? All the miraculous events of their past don’t prepare them for the next miracle. They may be growing, but they are still young in their faith. They haven’t yet figured out just who Jesus is and what he is capable of. I’m not sure what they were thinking exactly when they left Jesus behind. Did they not think that he had some sort of plan to join them later?

Then Jesus says those classic words, “Do not be afraid.” Throughout the Bible, whenever God or God’s messengers show up, people respond with fear and trembling. Yet the message always begins with, “Fear not.” We are scared to encounter the Divine, but God’s message is always one of encouragement, one of hope, one of love.

Peter gets the message—sort of. He is willing to step out in faith, but only if Jesus gives him assurance. Peter is maybe further along in his understanding than the other disciples, but is still struggling to really believe what Jesus is capable of. He wants to believe that Jesus will save them, but he can’t believe with his whole heart. His encounter with the Divine still doesn’t overcome the fear provoked by the chaos swirling around him. He wants to believe, so he steps out in faith that Jesus will protect him. Yet just one little step and his confidence falters. He still feels like he’s all alone and has to rely on his own power, and he knows that he is just a man and so he can’t walk on water.

But Jesus is right there! Jesus told him that it would be OK! Jesus has demonstrated again and again his power over this world! There is a participatory nature to all of Jesus’s miracles, though. He does most of the work, but not all. Peter’s fear blocks the inbreaking of God’s realm. Peter’s fear prevents him from truly encountering the Divine.

Yet Jesus is real. Jesus is present with Peter. Jesus saves Peter, and then saves the rest of the disciples. Finally, they get it. They truly believe that Jesus is not just a teacher, not just a prophet, but indeed the Son of God.

As I said, this story can be read as an allegory for the church. When the New Testament was written, Jesus had ascended to heaven and left the disciples behind to carry on. If you read through Paul’s letters and the other letters and the Book of Acts, you can tell that there is a lot of turmoil in the church. Some of it is internal: there were clearly two factions, one who thought that following Christ meant first being a Jew, and one who thought that Christ’s actions removed all obstacles for Gentiles to join in God’s kingdom. Again and again, Paul fights with enemies about the need for circumcision. But much of the turmoil is external. Paul enters the story in Acts when Stephen, the church’s first martyr, is stoned. Stephen is far from the last martyr, though. Jesus’s brother James, who became the head of the movement after Jesus’s crucifixion, was martyred. Eventually, most of the original twelve disciples were martyred. Jerusalem was ransacked and the Temple was destroyed. Christians, especially Gentile Christians, were outcasts both from Roman society and from Jewish communities.

In those turbulent times, Peter was one of the leaders. As Jesus said, “On this rock I will build my church.” Peter was trying to guide the ragtag movement and help them develop a distinct identity without the central figure of Jesus to rally around. Yet, even though Jesus was crucified and had ascended to heaven, Peter knew that Christ was alive and present to him. Present to all of them. Peter trusted that Christ would guide the church if they would only let him.

This is still God’s message to the church today. In this story, Jesus was not a ghost. He was real. He was present to Peter. He saved the disciples from the storms. In the early days after his resurrection, Jesus was real. He was present with the disciples and guided them on the Way. He gave them a mission, or rather a commission, to go into all the world making disciples and teaching them. He promised that he would always be with them, to the end of the age.

Christ is still here. Not in bodily form, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. Christ is really and truly present among us. Many Christians are functional atheists, meaning that they believe in God in the abstract but not that God is present in any real way. But Christ promised to always be with us until the end of the age. Christ will save us from the storms in our lives.

And not only in our individual lives, but also in our corporate lives. Christ is here in this place, strengthening and guiding the Church. Christ is ready to help us walk on water, if we will only take the first step. Christ is ready to host a great feast, if we will only give Him our meager starting supplies.

Now, as I said, those first few years were turbulent times for the Church, and the storms persist to this day. What can we do to survive the storms that are swirling about us? I’m not sure, but I do know that the Church, with a capital C, will survive. I do know that God is still working through us, individually and as a congregation. I do know that the Holy Spirit binds us together and strengthens us. I do know that we can continue to function as Christ’s body in the world if we will only let Him dwell within us.

When you’re in a storm on the sea, there are two options. One, you can keep heading towards your destination regardless of the wind and the waves. That’s a recipe for disaster. That leaves the boat open to waves coming over the side, or to the wind and waves knocking you over. You may think that the shortest path is the quickest path, which is true in some situations, but not when a storm is raging. There’s another option, though: running before the storm. Whichever way the wind and the waves are heading, that’s where you need to go. Let them push you along instead of fighting against them. In the short term, it feels wrong to go away from your destination, but if the option is being swamped or capsizing, any direction that keeps you upright is better. Your best bet is to run before the storm until it subsides, and then figure out where to go.

We can be confident that Christ will be with us whether the seas are calm or the storm is raging. We can be confident that He will come to us and protect us. We can be confident that He will enable us to do miraculous things, if we only trust in Him. Let us pray not only for Christ’s presence with us, but also for the courage to step out in faith as Peter did, and the faith to believe that Christ will be with us each step of the way. Amen.

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Preached on August 6, 2023, at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on Matthew 14:13-21.

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Let me set the scene. The passage right before this one is about Herod Antipas and John the Baptist. John had been critical of Herod and his wife Herodias, so they both wanted rid of him. Herod arrested him but was afraid to do anything more. At a lavish banquet, Herodias uses her daughter to force his hand, and as a result, Herod had John the Baptist killed.

Jesus and his disciples hear of this. I think it’s safe to say that all of them were at least peripherally involved with John the Baptist’s movement, and were probably all baptized by him or his followers. Jesus is particularly grieved, so he withdraws to be by himself. Yet he cannot escape the crowds.

Put yourself in the place of a disciple. You are grieving, and you know that Jesus is grieving, too. You thought that being far away from towns and villages, in a wild desert, would give you the space you needed to be with your close friends and commiserate. But here come the crowds. Not a handful of people, not a hundred people, but 5000 men, plus some women and children, who knows how many. We’re talking about the entire student population at Missouri S&T plus all of the faculty and staff. We’re talking about four times the population of Capernaum. Like, can’t you please leave us alone?

So then, the hour starts getting late. You’re hungry, everyone is getting hungry. It’s a big crowd of hungry people. That’s not just unpleasant; it’s dangerous. People are getting grouchy. They’re hot and tired on top of it, and so are you. You’ve just spent hours walking to this deserted place for some solace, then helping people who can’t hear what Jesus is saying or can’t understand his teachings, and you’re hot and tired and hungry and oh LORD can this day just end.

So, you grab a couple of the other disciples and go over to Jesus and say, “Look, it’s been a long day. Everyone is getting hungry. If we let them go now, maybe they’ll be able to scrounge up food in the villages before nightfall. Don’t you want a break? We sure do.” You figure that Jesus has no choice, but you’ve forgotten just who you are talking to.

Jesus responds, “No, don’t send them away—feed them!” What? Feed them with what? We barely have enough food for ourselves. How are we going to feed a whole city’s worth of people? A good-sized city’s worth of people? If we tell them we’re going to feed them, and then we run out, that will be even worse than not promising anything in the first place!

And yet, Jesus convinces the disciples that he has things under control. The disciples go along with it, because they don’t really have a better plan. The people sit down, and Jesus provides for them. The disciples experience the only miracle that is reported in all four Gospels, one so outrageous that everyone remembered it, even though somehow people forgot about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.

They all sit down, and Jesus does something totally ordinary. He blesses bread and breaks it. We invoke this same formula when we celebrate the Eucharist, so we treat it as sacred, but in reality, this was just convention. Last weekend, I was at a retreat at a Jesuit retreat center. The Catholic tradition is to genuflect, then say a particular prayer that you would probably recognize, and then start their meal. The formula here is basically the same kind of thing except in the culture and religion of first-century Galilee. Before they ate, the host of the meal would bless the bread and break it.

But in Jesus’s hands, the ordinary becomes sacred. He is given some ordinary bread, and he performs an ordinary act, and suddenly, the veil is lifted. God’s realm peeks through. Instead of a meager meal of crumbs, the crowd has enough. They eat and are satisfied. And there’s some leftover for tomorrow—not a lot, but enough. Enough that the disciples will be able to move on to the next task, the next place, the next miracle.

What is the difference between the sacred and the profane? In Acts, Peter is shown and told, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” In that time and place, certain foods and certain actions and certain places and even certain people were considered unclean, profane. In our time, we have a different understanding and draw different boundaries, but still there’s a sense that some things are unclean, profane. But Jesus demonstrates that it is not the bread, or the person, or the place that is profane or sacred. Rather, it is the presence or absence of God and God’s realm. And wherever Jesus is, God’s realm breaks through. The ordinary and profane suddenly becomes sacred.

Now, let’s imagine the scene from the perspective of someone in the crowd. You were at home, toiling away, and someone said, “Hey, you know that guy we’ve been hearing so much about, Jesus of Nazareth? My buddy said he’s out in the wilderness that direction and a bunch of people are listening to him preach. Let’s go!” You grab your spouse and your kids, and start walking. You’re in a hurry because you don’t want to miss it, since you’re not sure how far you’ll have to walk. You get there and it’s just as amazing as you expected. Jesus is a great orator. The way he says things just cuts you right to the heart sometimes, and other times fills you with joy, and other times inspires you to change your life. You see one of his disciples and ask him to clarify something, some parable that Jesus taught, and the disciple is almost as inspiring as Jesus is. Even your kids are enthralled. This goes on for hours, though, and eventually your kids start nagging you for a snack. You rushed out into the wilderness, so you only have whatever was in your pockets at the time, which wasn’t much. You start thinking, “Uh-oh. It’s getting late, I’m hungry, they’re hungry, and we’re a long way from home. We passed a little village on the way, but there’s an awful lot of people here. If we all went to that village, we would be like a horde of locusts! I should have brought more with me.”

Just as you’re about to give up and tell your family that you all need to hurry home to get something to eat, a disciple comes around again. He says, “Have a seat. Jesus is working on something. I’ll be right back.” Huh, how strange. Well, this Jesus guy seems so wise, so surely he knows that we’re all hungry. Oh look, the disciple is coming back. He hands around a basket that has bread in it—so full! Where did he get all this bread? You grab a hunk of bread, and so does everyone else in your family, and the neighbor who walked out to the wilderness with you. At first, you’re hesitant, because you don’t want to be a glutton, but there seems to be plenty, so you grab a big hunk. Oh, and here comes the fish! You think, I haven’t had fish in a while. I’ll just have a little piece. Wait—that basket is full, too, so I might as well have a big hunk! What a great meal!

So, the meal is over, the disciples circulate around gathering up the leftovers, and then they go get in their boat while Jesus gives a brief after-dinner talk. What an inspiration! Your family leaves for home, filled with joy, filled with anticipation of a glorious future, convinced that the time is coming when God’s kingdom will be established.

Now, what do you think: Who provided the bread and fish? Was it Jesus? Was it the disciples? The disciple said that Jesus was working on something, so maybe Jesus had someone deliver it. But the disciples were the ones gathering up the leftovers and taking it on their boat, so maybe they brought it in their boat and Jesus just had to figure out how much of it they could spare or how he would distribute it to the large crowd.

I don’t know what the original crowd thought. Was it Jesus? Was it the disciples? Was it the other people in the crowd? Who knows? But here’s what I do know: the disciples knew exactly what happened and who was their source of strength. Whatever the crowd thought, the disciples left knowing that Jesus could do almost anything. Jesus could take whatever meager offering they made and multiply it in their hands. His miraculous actions would have inspired the disciples to keep working for the glory of God’s kingdom. They would have known that they could always rely on Jesus to work through them, so they would have been encouraged to rely even more on Jesus.

In the same way, Jesus will multiply our efforts. Whenever we are working for the glory of His kingdom, Jesus will work alongside us, if we only ask. Imagine if the disciples had just tried to feed the crowd on their own without asking Jesus for help. How far would their five loaves and two fishes have gone? Not very. But instead of relying on their own efforts and their own resources, they dedicated all that they had and all that they were to service for God’s kingdom. In return, Jesus transformed them and transformed the gathering from just a random crowd listening to an inspirational speaker into a glimpse of the messianic banquet that will come at the end of the age.

Christ offers us the same help. We are Christ’s body in the world. That means we can rely on Christ’s presence with us, by the Holy Spirit, acting through us and multiplying our efforts. You may think, I can’t do as much as I used to. Or, I don’t have the time and energy to do ONE MORE THING. Or, I don’t know where to start. Well, same here, but almost exactly three years ago, I did SOMETHING. One chapter of my life was over. We were settled into a new house, and my youngest kid had gone off to college, so I was looking for whatever would be next. So I started a social organization in the middle of a pandemic when social gathering was impossible. And yet, because I gave a little bit of myself for the glory of God’s kingdom, God multiplied my efforts, and now the organization has taken on a life of its own.

I don’t know what your personal calling is, or if you have found your partners in ministry yet. I do know, though, that if you seek God’s guidance and commit your work to God’s glory and not your own, God’s kingdom will peek through. Maybe not immediately, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but someday. And meanwhile, Christ will be right there beside you each step of the way, guiding you and amplifying your voice and multiplying your efforts and impact. When you think there is nothing more to give, Christ invites you to His Table to get replenished. So we turn now towards that Table, where our small offering of bread and juice will transform into a foretaste of the banquet that comes at the end of the age, the bread of life and the cup of salvation that sustain us on our journey. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on July 23, 2023. Based on Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43.

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In today’s agricultural parable, we hear about “weeds” among the wheat. The Greek word used is “zizanion,” generally understood to be darnel. This is an especially undesirable weed for a couple of reasons. First, it looks very much like wheat, so much so that it is sometimes called “false wheat.” Its growth pattern is similar to wheat, and its roots wrap around the roots of the wheat plants. The similarity remains until the ears of grain appear. Only then can you reliably tell the difference. And it’s a good thing you can! Darnel is considered poisonous. In small amounts, it produces an effect like drunkenness. In larger amounts, it can be fatal. Under Roman law, sowing darnel in another person’s field wasn’t just bad manners—it was a crime because the darnel was so dangerous.

So we’re not talking about dandelions here. We’re not talking about something that looks bad or that causes a little bit of damage. We’re talking about poison. Poison that can kill. And yet, in the parable, the master says, “Let it grow until we can be sure which plants are good and which plants are bad.”

Jesus likens the weeds to evildoers. Often, this is taken further to include anyone who does not follow God’s law. If you follow city politics at all, you know that there is a movement afoot to institute a new ordinance against drag performances, largely led by some pastors and their followers. One man who spoke at the council meeting on June 19 kept shouting, “God’s word is true!” and threatening that judgment and vengeance were coming for all of us who do not believe what he does or behave in the way that he thinks we should. (Note: I spoke immediately after him. At the bottom of this message, I have links to some articles.)

So, let’s do a thought experiment. Let’s cleanse our congregation. The first to go are the heretics, so that they cannot lead other people astray. John Nipper preached on Trinity Sunday, the most dangerous Sunday of them all. Afterwards, I shared a video with him called, “St. Patrick’s Bad Analogies.” It’s an excellent video that I would encourage you all to watch. St. Patrick gives a bunch of different analogies for the Trinity, and each time, the two supposedly “simple folk” he was talking to explained why he was repeating an ancient heresy. John recognized his own teaching somewhere in the video, so I guess he has to go. There’s a podcast I listen to called “The Heretic Happy Hour.” Each guest is asked why they might be called a heretic, and boy, there’s lots of reasons.

OK, suppose you are not guilty of any heresies. Next to go are the hypocrites. We surely don’t want people who fail to live up to their own ideals! Those outside the church most often criticize “the church” for its hypocrisy, so I guess we’d better purge them all to keep from getting a bad name.

Next, let’s get rid of anyone who has any doubts. I’ve heard it said that doubt is the enemy of faith. Now I’m not so sure about that, but this is just a thought experiment. So the doubters gotta go.

Finally, any sinners remaining better get out. We don’t want their sin poisoning our fellowship. I think Paul said something about that, regarding someone who was engaged in some sort of impropriety.

Heretics, hypocrites, doubters, and sinners. If they’re all gone, is anyone left? Not only that, but at each step of the process, we’re losing the spiritual gifts of people who have lots to give. Our fellowship is enriched by the diversity of perspectives we get from everyone who is willing to be part of it. We learn from each other, we lean on each other, and our gifts reinforce so that we can accomplish far more than we could with some hypothetical “pure” fellowship.

So, you belong. Everyone in this room belongs. Everyone listening online belongs. Everyone who is connected to our church in some way belongs. We all have a gift to share. Each one of us channels God’s love in a unique way. Some are better at being out in front. Some are better at working behind the scenes. Some are better sitting beside you while you heal or while you grieve. Some have musical or other artistic talents that glorify God and enliven our worship. Some just bring joy by being around you.

We all belong. We all have these different gifts, and all form one body. But I know that we are deficient. I know that we do not have the diversity that we need to truly be Christ’s body. Churches are some of the only multi-generational organizations, where you’ll find children and octogenarians and everything in-between. The most vital churches have people of different races and ethnicities, from different classes and professions, with different educational and life experiences. Each new perspective adds depth and color and vibrance to the church. We have some of that, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

What entitles us to membership in Christ’s body that is the church? What have you done to earn your place here today? Well, honestly, nothing. We are all here by the grace of God. We all bear God’s image. We are all made to be channels of God’s love. We have all been chosen by God. Grace is the ultimate unearned privilege, the gift we receive because God wants to give it to us.

And if we belong here today by God’s grace, what about people in the community? Don’t they belong here, too? God’s grace is a free gift, freely given to all those God chooses. It is not up to us to choose who is a weed and who is wheat. It is up to God. God knows who will bear fruit for the kingdom. I believe there are dozens, hundreds, even thousands of people in Rolla who do not currently belong to any church but who have been chosen by God for some task to build God’s kingdom. How much more effective would they be with a community of supporters? How much more would they be able to transform the world if they were aligned with others who saw the world in the same way, who shared their calling?

I also believe that for some large fraction of those people who need a community, this church is not the right place for them. Each person needs to find their own path and their own community. There are some people I work with in the community who are not Christian and never will be, but they are nevertheless building God’s kingdom. They are showing love in their own way. Even churches I disagree with, some vehemently, have a job to do for the good of God’s kingdom. Heretics and hypocrites—but different heresies and hypocrisies than my own. Those churches fill a need for some people. Some people need to be told what to believe, whereas I need to have the freedom to follow God wherever They lead me. Some people need the tangible presence of the Holy Spirit, whereas I am deeply suspicious of those supposed experiences. That’s fine—that’s why I’m here and not at First Assembly or Greentree or Harvest Worship Center.

But there are certainly some people in Rolla and in Phelps County and surrounding areas who need to hear the message we have about God’s love. There are people who hunger and thirst for righteousness, but don’t know how to find the bread of life or the living water that we know about. There are people who care deeply about the same things that we care deeply about, who can build us up while we build them up.

So I have another thought experiment. Let’s suppose we decide we want to have the most impure church of them all. Are you a heretic? Good! Join our Bible study; I’m sure you’ll liven it up. Too often, we read the Bible and see things that aren’t really there, because we’ve been told that they are. We need someone to question our assumptions so we can more nearly approach the Truth revealed in Scripture. Are you a hypocrite? Well, join the club. Let’s work together on cleaning up our hypocrisies. Let me tell you how I’m trying to improve, and you tell me how you’re trying to improve, and together, maybe we’ll find a better way to follow God. Are you a doubter? Well, thank God, because I am, too. I mean, geez, some of the stuff in the Bible is just unbelievable. Have you ever read it? There’s some weird stuff in there. Are you a sinner? Well, aren’t we all? Who am I to judge your sin? I’ll judge my own, and you can judge your own, and we’ll rely upon God’s grace to save us both.

That would be a whole lot more exciting! I’m sure we can be more successful inviting heretics and doubters to join us than seeking perfect believers. There’s a lot bigger pool to draw from. If nothing else, it would demonstrate intellectual humility. Some people try to find a church with exclusive access to the Truth, with a capital T. Like, after 2000 years, one church will finally get it right. I think it’s more likely that we’re all wrong, and we would come a lot closer to living the way God intends if we just live in that uncertainty and prioritize being loving over being right.

Somewhere in Rolla, right now, outside our doors, someone needs to hear about a God of love, a God of forgiveness, a God of grace, a God who accepts us in all of our messiness and imperfection, a God who desires them to flourish and grow. So I asked you last week: Who do you seek to share this love, this message of God’s kingdom with? What is your particular calling? Who do you seek to serve?

Ming asked me after worship last week, “So what’s next?” I told him to come this week, so I guess it’s time for me to deliver on that. Have you all had time to think and pray about your calling? Did you bring your card back? If not, there are more cards by the stack of hymnals in the narthex. First of all, if you weren’t here last week, let me walk you through what you missed. I want you to identify one thing, one calling, something that you personally feel called to do. Someone that you want to serve. Someone to whom you want to show God’s love. My rule is, it has to be someone, some group, outside this church and outside your family. I assume that you all want to love each other and love your families, but that’s not what we’re after here. What is the one thing that really calls to your inner being? Maybe it’s something you’re already doing, or maybe it’s something that has been nagging at you, something you want to start. Or maybe you already do a lot of different things and you need to figure out what ties them all together. Like I said last week, I do a lot, but there is one thread that runs through it all.

Once you know what that one thing is, or at least have some idea of what it might be, your next task is to think of three people in this congregation who might share that same calling, or something close to it. People who can help you, support you, and give you ideas and inspiration.

So now, I want you to really think hard about it. If you have already thought this all through, start thinking about one step you might take to follow God’s calling, God’s claim on your heart and your life. If you haven’t come up with your one thing yet, maybe jot down a few things that kind of circle around your calling, or a few spiritual gifts that you think you have to offer someone else. I’m going to give you a few minutes now to do that.

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OK, so you have that ready? Now, I want you to hold that card close to your heart, and we will pray together. Then keep it all in your heart and mind while we conclude the worship service. Keep it in your heart while you affirm your faith in our ever-present God. Keep it in your heart while we lift up our gifts to God. Keep it in your heart while we sing together and while Randy offers his gift of music to God. And then after worship, go find one of the people on your card and talk with them. If they’re not here today, call or email them this week. If you haven’t figured out your own calling, perhaps it’s because someone else is about to ask you to help them. Maybe you have a particular insight, a particular gift, that someone else needs right now. And I believe that through the Holy Spirit, we will each find our partners in ministry. As Brian McLaren said, “It’s not about the church meeting your needs; it’s about joining the mission of God’s people to meet the world’s needs.”

So now hold your card to your heart, and let’s pray:

Come, Holy Spirit. Come among us and guide us. Bless each person’s gifts and show each of us how best to use those gifts to build your kingdom. Guide us as we seek to transform the world with your love. Help us each to find our partners in ministry so that together, we can do more than we ever can do alone. Bind us together into one body, Christ’s body, to walk where Christ walks, to see and hear with Christ’s eyes and ears, to work with Christ’s hands, and to love with Christ’s heart. All this we ask in Jesus’ name, Amen.

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I referenced a controversy in Rolla. LGBTQ+ Rolla hosted its third Pride celebration this year. We moved to a spot in downtown Rolla and included entertainment: Rodney Wilson, founder of LGBTQ+ History Month; Mystic Sands Bellydance Troupe; and a drag show led by Roxanna Rexia. Although there was no nudity and no sexually explicit content, this incurred the wrath of some pastors in town. Here are some articles about it.

Article about June 19 meeting from Phelps County Focus

Article about July 17 meeting from Phelps County Focus

Article about July 17 meeting from NPR

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on July 16, 2023. Based on Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23.

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Who here is a gardener? Rhonda is, and her parents are, but I’m not. My preference is to buy produce at the store, or perhaps at the farmer’s market. If we must grow our own vegetables, then my preference is to buy plants, not seeds.

Rhonda’s parents are a lot more dedicated, though. In about February, which is probably too early, they start plants from seeds in their garage. They have two big tables that they cover with little seed-starter pots. They put the trays of pots on heating mats, and when the seeds germinate, they start the grow lights. Once the weather is acceptable and the plants are reasonably large, they put the plants outside for brief times to harden them, then eventually plant them in the garden. If a frost comes, they cover the baby plants with straw to protect them.

Now, perhaps this is an appropriate approach to growing vegetables, but it is not at all what farmers do to grow grain. This parable describes very different agricultural practices, which were common at the time. First, the land is cleared. There’s no discussion of tilling the ground, but presumably the farmer does something to get the ground ready. Then, the seed is spread indiscriminately. Not placed carefully in neat rows, but broadcast, kind of like the way we might plant grass. Well, after all, wheat is a grass, so that makes sense.

I did a little bit of research about wheat germination. If you take particular care of the seed, storing it at the right temperature and humidity, and plant it at the right time, you might get 92% germination rate. However, if you allow the moisture content to get too high, or you have certain kinds of wheat, or your timing is off, perhaps the germination rate is as low as 8%.

All in all, farming in ancient Judea and Galilee was a dicey proposition. Even setting aside the heavy tax burden, the methods and materials and equipment available to them were far less sophisticated than modern farming. Jesus’s audience would have known all of this. They would have known how hard they had to work to get a good wheat crop each year. They would have known how careful they needed to be with their seeds. They would have known how important the soil is to the success of their harvest, but also how little control they had over where they were able to sow. I mean, it’s not like they could just choose a different plot of land—they had to sow and reap on their own land. Maybe that land would be hard packed in places due to footpaths. Maybe that land would be rocky. Maybe that land would be adjacent to wild thorn bushes that would invade after they planted their crops.

Jesus used this common knowledge to teach his audience about the kingdom of God. One way to hear this parable is to consider yourself to be the soil. Hear and understand, not like the ones he likens to the path. Have deep roots, not like the ones he likens to rocky soil. Keep free of the cares of the world and the lures of wealth, not like the ones he likens to wheat among the thorns. Yield good fruit, thirty or sixty or a hundred-fold.

Absolutely. We should absolutely strive to be good soil, receptive to the message of God’s love. Repent! Turn away from the cares of the world. Have deep roots, and be willing to go wherever God calls you, even if it means carrying your cross, being accused of disrupting society or even of sedition.

But in verse 18, Jesus calls this “the parable of the sower,” not the parable of the good soil. So, he must have been trying to teach his disciples something about the action of the sower. When he is explaining the four scenarios, he starts with, “this is the one who hears the word.” So somehow, Jesus is trying to connect the action of the sower to the ones who hear the word of God’s love.

Who is the sower? Well, it could be God. The Holy Spirit does indeed flow over people, and Creation itself sings of God’s goodness. Perhaps Jesus was describing what he was doing. But I think he was trying to teach his disciples that they should be good sowers.

Let’s think again about the farming process. One season, you harvest your crops. You eat what you need, sell what you can, and save back some seed for the next year. When the time is right, you clear the land and prepare it to receive the new planting. Then you spread seed broadly over the land.

So, the first step is to feed yourself. Hear God’s Word. Study it. Experience it. Immerse yourself in God’s love. Be a part of a community that helps you connect with God. Then filled with the Holy Spirit, filled with love for God and for your neighbor, you will be ready to go forth and spread the seed of God’s love in other hearts. Remember, the kingdom of God is marked by abundance, not scarcity. There is always plenty of love to go around. If you feel depleted, it’s because you’re giving more than you’re getting, and you need to refocus on feeding yourself. Each person has different needs; figure out your needs, what you need to feel spiritually replenished.

Then go and spread love. The sower spreads seed indiscriminately. They know that some places won’t produce and some seeds won’t grow, but they don’t know which ones, not really. Like the sower, spread love indiscriminately. Jesus said to love your neighbor, and basically kept re-defining “neighbors” to include everyone. He never taught anyone to withhold their love, but rather that people who seem unlovable are like the barren ground—they just haven’t received the seed of God’s love yet. But if you plant love there, it might yield fruit.

Might. Jesus didn’t give his disciples any guarantees. He knew that some people are just not receptive to the message, and others seem receptive but don’t stick with it. Perhaps this is a counterbalance to his commissioning back a few chapters. I spoke about Matthew 10 a couple of weeks ago. Jesus had been working hard, teaching and preaching all around Galilee, and he decided to commission some disciples to work in his name. He gave them some instructions, which honestly were a little bit intimidating. I mean, he said they were like sheep among wolves, that they would be handed over to councils and flogged in synagogues and they would be hated by all. Gee, sign me up. Still, the disciples went forth and came back rejoicing! Well, even if they had some initial success, there was no guarantee of their long-term success. Building God’s kingdom is a marathon, not a sprint. So perhaps Jesus wanted to embolden them a bit, so they wouldn’t be disheartened when they returned to a village and found that people had turned away from what they had taught.

Jesus said when he commissioned the disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.” He knew that God would multiply the efforts of the disciples. Their little bit of work would yield fruit 30, 60, or 100-fold. They might return to a village and find that some were like the seed that fell on the path, or like the seed that fell on rocky ground, or like the seed that was choked out by thorns. But they would find some who were like the seed that fell on good soil. Those few who heard the good news, understood it, grew deep roots to tap into God’s love, and turned away from the cares of the world would produce fruit in abundance for God’s kingdom. They in turn would spread God’s love to others, who would spread it to others, and so on until the world is transformed.

Have you ever wondered what it would have been like to be among those early followers of Jesus, or of the movement that sprouted after his resurrection? Hearing stories straight from the Son of God, or from eyewitnesses of his life. Seeing the signs of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom. From a few close disciples, a movement spread, first across Judea and Galilee, then later around the Roman Empire and points beyond. It grew from a small sect within a minor religion to the largest religion in the world. How did this happen? From people telling stories of their encounters with God, caring for their neighbors, and holding firm to the teachings that they received. God indeed multiplied the efforts of those early Jesus-followers to create a massive network of believers.

What we have seen in America and other Western nations over the past generation or two is a steady erosion of that network. Five hundred years ago, the western church splintered into thousands of denominations. Collectively, these splinters retained enormous cultural power, but fifty years or so ago, that cultural power was disrupted so that now, people no longer feel a need to be Christian to be part of society. This has had all sorts of negative effects on established churches, but one important positive effect is that we now need to think seriously about what we’re doing. We can’t just go through the motions and keep doing what we’ve always done because we’ve always done it. No longer do people attend church because their parents told them to, at least adults don’t. They consciously choose what to believe, what community to join, and how to connect to the Divine.

So, the task before us is to sow God’s love broadly, among people who don’t automatically assume that Christians are the kind of people they want to be around, but more often the opposite. We are tasked with sowing God’s love—somewhere. Remember what I said a couple of weeks ago, about God’s call to each of us individually and to all of us as a congregation? Well, it’s time to be specific. Everyone should have received a note card on their way in, and there should be pencils in the pews. I’m not going to collect the cards, but I do want you to use them. Here’s what I want you to do right now. I want you to think about God’s particular calling for you personally. Forget about what the church is doing. Just think about what you are called to do. What are you passionate about? Who do you feel called to serve? Who do you feel called to love? What you write down could reflect something you are already doing, or it could be something that has been nagging at you, a discomfort that is calling you to action.

Eventually, after you have really thought things through, you should only have ONE calling. I mean, I do lots of different things, but they all have ONE thread that ties them all together. If you’re wondering which activity in your life is your actual calling, maybe ask yourself: if there’s a schedule conflict, which one would you choose?

Once you have that down, I want you to take another step and think about who in this congregation might have a similar calling. Maybe not the same, but similar. Someone who might want to help you in whatever you’re called to do, or who might have some ideas that would help you. Try to come up with three names. The challenge will be to get people whose ONE THING is connected to your ONE THING.

So, let’s take a few minutes and think about that, writing notes on your card, and then we’ll pray.

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Let’s pray: Lord God, we thank you for the strength you give us by your Holy Spirit, and the way you bind us together and multiply our efforts so that we can transform the world into your glorious kingdom. Bless us now as we consider what steps we should take to be effective sowers of your love in our community. Give us courage and endurance, open hearts and open minds. In Jesus Christ we pray. Amen.

Now over the coming week, I want you all to continue thinking and praying about your calling. Feel free to talk with others about it, but don’t feel obligated to do so. Next week we have another agricultural parable, and we’ll think and pray more about our future together.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on July 2, 2023. Based on Romans 6:12-23.

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Brené Brown is a researcher in the field of social work. She catapulted to fame in 2010 when she gave a TEDx talk called “The Power of Vulnerability.” Her research is primarily in the area of leadership, vulnerability, and shame, and how they are all connected. It’s important to recognize that “guilt” and “shame” are separate concepts that are only loosely related. American culture is primarily built on a guilt-innocence paradigm. If you do something wrong, you are guilty and deserving of a proportional punishment. If not, you are innocent and do not deserve punishment.

Many cultures around the world, including that of Biblical Judea and several regions of the US, are built on an honor-shame paradigm. Brown grew up in such a culture in Texas. Shame is less factual and more emotional. Shame is about whether or not you measure up to your community’s standards. Often, these standards relate to gender and family roles. For example, maybe you are seen as not “manly” enough if you don’t act in a certain way. That doesn’t really incur “guilt,” because you haven’t actually violated any laws, but it does incur shame.

Shame is a powerful force embedded deep in the human psyche. Shame leads to being outcast, and in a primitive society, being outcast is nearly a death sentence. At the least, it’s an exclusion from the continuation of your family line.

Brown has studied the impact of shame on relationships for more than two decades. The challenge we face is that building a loving relationship requires vulnerability, but vulnerability then exposes us to the pain of shame. She wrote, “We desperately don’t want to experience shame, and we’re not willing to talk about it. Yet the only way to resolve shame is to talk about it. Maybe we’re afraid of topics like love and shame. Most of us like safety, certainty, and clarity. Shame and love are grounded in vulnerability and tenderness.” She also said that shame needs three ingredients to grow: secrecy, silence, and judgment. But what kills it is empathy.

Sin is associated with both guilt and shame. In a sense, guilt is easier to deal with. Suppose I steal something and therefore incur guilt. I can deal with the guilt by making restitution to the victim and possibly by being punished by the government, whether I’m fined or imprisoned. Now the guilt is dealt with by a proportional response. Shame is MUCH harder. Forever after, I would be branded as a thief and shunned by society. There are lots of jobs I wouldn’t be eligible for, and many of my friends would abandon me.

I think the best definition of sin is whatever separates us from each other or from God. In a sense, then, shame is sin. Shame causes us to hide from God, like Adam & Eve did in the Garden of Eden. Shame prevents us from confronting our guilt and repairing our relationships. Paul wrote that the “wages of sin is death.” Well, that death takes the form of shame that keeps us from thriving.

As I thought about the way sin and shame control us, I was reminded of some parasites that turn animals into zombies. Have you ever heard of those? They are fascinating. I don’t really understand how they work, except that they somehow take over their host’s brain. The Ophiocordyceps genus of fungi lives in an insect. The fungus controls the host insect’s brain and steers it to a place with the right temperature, humidity, and other conditions for the fungus to grow. When it matures, the fungus sprouts stalks and disperses spores to take over other insects.

Here’s another one. The Euhaplorchis californiensis is a kind of worm that grows in a carpet-like layer atop the brain of a California killifish. They can live and grow there, but they can only reproduce inside the guts of birds. So when they are ready, they force the fish to swim near the surface of the water and otherwise behave erratically so that a bird will see it and eat it. This is a more subtle form of control, in that the fish still basically behaves normally but does a few things that are risky. The worm basically suppresses the fish’s survival instincts.

Sin is like that Euhaplorchis californiensis worm. It burrows down inside of us and makes us do things we wouldn’t otherwise choose to do.  We fail to notice things that might harm us. The first few steps are innocuous enough, but gradually, we ignore the risks inherent to our behavior. Or like the Ophiocordyceps fungi, we let sin and shame steer us towards an environment where they can grow and blossom. We surround ourselves with people who encourage the wrong behaviors, or we hide from those who would help us escape the grip of our bad habits. Eventually, we become fully consumed by our sin and our shame.

But the promise of the Gospel is that we don’t have to stay in those dark places where shame grows. Through grace, we are forgiven of our sins. We don’t need to hide from God, for God knows our inmost heart and loves us anyway. God sees us as image-bearers, reflecting God’s goodness, no matter what the world sees. As we do each Sunday, we may approach God with boldness and confess our sins, assured in advance that God will forgive us and wash away all our shame. Rather than let it grow like a parasite in the darkness of secrecy, silence, and judgment, we may confess it in the light and be made clean and whole.

In some Christian traditions, the message ends there. But I say, what’s the point? Why does God forgive us? Why are we freed from our shame? Well, again, in some traditions, the answer is, “so we can go to heaven.” But as a universalist, that’s unsatisfying to me. And anyway, if that’s the only reason, why not wait until your deathbed, live a long life full of debauchery and get your freedom right at the end?

Paul writes, “Should we sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means!” He anticipated that argument. The Romans might say, Hey, we’re forgiven, so let’s go wild! Paul says no: that path still leads to separation from God, it still leads to shame, it still leads to death.

We are saved so that we are free from the grip of sin and shame. Instead, we are led to righteousness. Last week, I spoke about the vertical and horizontal dimensions of the kingdom of God. Well, our freedom from sin is what enables us to become aligned on these two axes. We are free to follow God, with no need to worry about God’s judgment on us. We are free to reconcile with one another, with no need to worry about either of us being judged. We are sanctified and we participate in the sanctification of the world.

We are all called individually to the ministry of reconciliation. I have a particular calling that I’ve spoken about, and I know that at least some of you have identified your own particular calling. These are ways that individually we may pursue God’s kingdom. One by one, we go into the world and show God’s love to people we meet. We come here to be spiritually fed, then we go out and proclaim that the kingdom of God is at hand, through our words and actions. We meet people where they are and help them to see God working in their lives.

But the larger question is, what ministry of reconciliation are we called to as a congregation? I can only do so much—I can only be in one place at a time, and I have a job and a family. The same goes for each person—everyone has limitations and obligations. But the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. If we are individually working in lots of different directions, we can affect people at an individual level. But if we all work in the same direction, our efforts reinforce one another and multiply.

On multiple occasions, as recently as last week, I’ve said that our job is not to build a church but to build the kingdom of God. What I mean is that our primary calling is to reconcile the whole world to God and to each other. That’s a huge task, one that is impossible. If we each do a little bit, though, and work in one little corner, God will amplify our efforts and God’s reign will break through. And if we all do a little bit in basically the same corner of God’s kingdom, we will support each other and strengthen each other.

The way that impacts our church, then, is that other people see what we’re doing and want to help, too. They want to be part of the inbreaking of God’s kingdom. They need the support we can give them, and they are willing to give us support when we need it.

I recently read an addendum to Good to Great by Jim Collins. He has mainly studied businesses that far outperformed their rivals, but also did a pilot study of nonprofits and other non-business organizations. An important part of the success of any organization is what he calls the “hedgehog concept.” There is an ancient Greek expression attributed to Archilochus, “A fox knows many things, but a hedgehog knows one big thing.” The hedgehog concept is the ONE THING that an organization does well. It’s at the intersection of what our passion is, what we can do better than everyone else, and what drives resources. In business, “resources” means money. In a church, “resources” means money, yes, but also time and energy and ideas and people.

We have been freed from the shame of our sins. Everyone in this room, everyone watching online, everyone who is connected to this church in any way, has been freed of their sins. And so has everyone else. But for those of us connected to this church, this extension of Christ’s body has been called to do ONE BIG THING to reconcile people to God, to take part in the transformation of the world. We will shortly go to the Lord’s Table to receive spiritual nourishment to strengthen us in our pursuit of God’s kingdom. How will we pursue righteousness? What is our calling? What are we prepared to do, as a church, to spread God’s love, to sanctify one little corner of God’s kingdom? Let us listen to the guiding of the Holy Spirit as we lean on each other and work side by side for the renewal of world. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on June 25, 2023. Based on Matthew 10:25-39.

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Have you all heard of Brother Jed? He was a traveling preacher, at one time based in Columbia and later based in Terre Haute. He traveled around the country, mostly the Midwest, mostly visiting college campuses. He and his followers would carry signs telling everyone how evil they are and would yell at them, preaching about the coming judgment. He visited Missouri S&T several times while I’ve lived here. Although he passed away last year, I suspect that his wife and children and other followers are still carrying on his ministry.

Those of us involved in campus ministry would always talk about him when he visited. We unanimously disagreed with his methods. Jason Smith, who is the advisor to Chi Alpha and also the manager of Coffeesmiths, calls it “inoculating people to the Gospel.” If the only way people hear about the good news of God’s love is through such hateful, confrontational people, who just yell at them without trying to know them, they won’t be open to more loving, relational evangelism. We in campus ministry are united in our methods of building those relationships, seeing the needs of college students, and meeting them where they are.

I need to tell you about another experience I had. Two weeks ago, we held Pride in downtown Rolla. There was a small group of protesters. I’m not sure that they all came together, but they all hovered on the edge together. By and large, they were conversational in their approach. But one woman was wearing a shirt that said, in huge letters, “ASK ME WHY YOU DESERVE HELL.” Now, no matter what you believe, no matter whether you are a universalist like me or an annihilationist or infernalist with a Calvinist or Arminian theology, regardless, this is NOT the way to start a conversation! If you approach someone with the attitude that they need to be told how evil they are, they will simply shut down and the conversation will be over before it even begins.

But these aren’t the only bad forms of evangelism. Along Acorn Trail, I will periodically see people set up with a rack of flyers. I think they’re Jehovah’s Witnesses, but I run by too fast and too far away to be sure. When I’m getting my morning exercise or otherwise enjoying God’s Creation, I have no interest in whatever message they might be selling. Of course, Jehovah’s Witnesses are also well-known for door-to-door proselytizing. Like, yes, by all means, interrupt whatever I’m doing to tell me something I didn’t want to know.

What is the common denominator to all of these bad forms of evangelism? They are fundamentally focused on the evangelizer’s perspective. They start from a position of what the evangelizer wants to say and wants others to hear, rather than starting from a position of understanding what people themselves want to hear.

In a sense, these forms of evangelism are easy. They require no real understanding of other people’s perspectives. You can be like Brother Jed and assume all people are basically evil, and craft a message accordingly. You can have pre-printed tracts that have a generic message for all people. You can have your Four Spiritual Laws in hand and go through a rehearsed speech. Basically, all you need is a hammer, because every potential convert is a nail.

That is not at all what Jesus taught his disciples to do. He didn’t send them to stand on street corners and harangue passersby. He didn’t send them with a formulaic message and just-so stories and pat answers. Instead, he told them to go and live with people in their villages. Learn their needs, fulfill their needs, and bring them into community. In so doing, they would build the kingdom of God.

But what is the kingdom of God exactly? In progressive circles, it is more common to speak of the kin-dom of God, without the g, to state that we are all God’s family, God’s kin, and all need to be brought into a familial relationship. That’s good and removes the patriarchal overtones, and also makes it more understandable to those of us who live in a modern democracy rather than historical monarchy. However, I prefer to keep a reference to God’s reign. The kingdom of God is a transformed world in which God is sovereign, where God rules over all people, over a renewed social order.

The kingdom of God comes about when we are aligned with God’s will. This is the vertical dimension. To be ruled by God, we must study God’s Word, God’s message to the world best expressed in the person of Jesus Christ. Every day, every moment, there are forces in society that want to pull us away from God. We are tempted to pursue money, or power, or fame. We are drawn into groups that teach us to hate some other group. We are asked to choose between what we believe to be true and honorable and just, versus what allows us to fit in. Submitting to God’s reign requires a constant effort to turn away from these worldly distractions and towards God’s message of hope and love.

But the kingdom of God has a horizontal dimension as well: how we relate to others. Where things often go awry is that we believe our way of understanding God—the vertical dimension—is the way that others must believe, too. So, we focus our efforts on convincing other people that they are wrong and we are right. We set up a win-lose dichotomy. We point to ourselves as models of faithfulness, of true belief. This of course leaves us open to accusations of hypocrisy, and rightly so. If you consider Christianity as a whole over the past two millennia, hypocrisy is our defining characteristic. From the Crusades to liberate the Holy Land—and pillage and plunder it while we were there—to the Indian boarding schools to the Inquisition and pogroms, we have largely failed to live up to our ideals. As long as we are convinced of the rightness of our beliefs and our responsibility to make others believe as we do, we will continue to transgress the spirit of the Gospel.

Unfortunately, we inherit this legacy, so we have to work extra hard for our message to escape its context. Communication isn’t just what is said, but also what is heard, and what is heard depends on context and experience. Let me give you an example. In 2005, I quit drinking. I didn’t make anyone else quit, and didn’t really talk about it. I would still hang out with my neighbors and friends and family who all drank. I would often drink non-alcoholic beer. No big deal, right? But some of them apparently took my teetotaling as a judgment on their actions. Whether they had a guilty conscience or associated me with rabid temperance preachers, my simple act of not drinking was interpreted as an indictment of their personal choices.

In the same way, we need to take care that our message about our faith is received with a spirit of love. We have to overcome the inoculation others have received from bad theology and bad preachers. This is hard. In fact, it’s impossible for us to do on our own. But Jesus’s training to his disciples was that God would go with them. They wouldn’t need to rely on their own abilities and knowledge. Rather, Jesus gave them authority over unclean spirits—that is, they could heal people by Jesus’s power, not their own. Elsewhere he counseled his disciples that they shouldn’t make up their minds in advance of what they were going to say, but rather to rely on the Holy Spirit to speak through them. Yes, spreading God’s message is hard, but we’re just the instruments of God’s shalom, of God’s reign breaking through. It is God’s strength working through us that will transform hearts and minds.

I’m reminded of something a spiritual advisor once told me. He said that in building God’s kingdom, we do perhaps 2% of the work and God does 98%. The way you burn out is if you try to do, say, 3%, or even worse, try to do 100%. But God does ask that you do your full 2%, not just 1% and certainly not zero. We can’t just sit back and wait for God’s kingdom to emerge, but we can be secure in the knowledge that God will do most of the work, as long as we try.

So, I’ve talked a lot about what not to do, about bad models of evangelism. What are some good models? Let’s turn back to what Jesus taught his disciples. He said, Go into all the villages, healing the sick, casting out demons, and preaching that the kingdom of God is at hand. First, go: It is not sufficient to wait for people to come to you. You must actively seek people out to share God’s love. I consider the patrons at the Mission to be part of my ministry, as well as one of the clerks at the Mobil On the Run and my barber. Remember, our goal is to build God’s kingdom, not to build a church.

Next, serve people and seek their well-being. Any time there are two people involved, there are three realities. There is an objective reality, your own subjective reality, and the other person’s subjective reality. Consider the case of giving a gift. To make it concrete, suppose I give a gift of $200 running shoes, the same model that I use, to one of my elk-hunting friends. The objective reality is that they are shoes intended for running that cost $200. From my perspective, I believe they are great shoes. They’re the kind I use and love, so I think that my friend will love them, too. But let’s see things from his perspective. First, is he a runner? Some of my hunting partners are runners, others are not. Second, are they the right size? Did I ask him what size shoe he wears, or just go buy them? Third, even if he’s a runner and the shoes are the right size, they may not be the right shoes for him. There is more to a shoe than just the length and width. Maybe his feet have some different needs than mine do. Maybe his running style requires support in different places than mine do.

What I’m saying is, even if a particular way of understanding God and understanding Jesus’s teachings fits you well, it may not fit someone else. To be ambassadors for Christ, we need to learn other people’s needs. We need to see the world from their perspective and care for their whole selves, physical, emotional, and spiritual.

Only when we are in right relationship with a person can they hear our message of love and inclusion. Only when we are aligned horizontally can we help them become aligned vertically. Instead of pointing them towards ourselves, instead of telling them what we believe, we point them towards the Source of all goodness and encourage them to find their own path to the Divine. Let us strive to focus always on bringing about God’s reign in this world, not by forcing others to believe and act as we do, but by seeing the world through their eyes and showing them their own path that will lead them to the Truth. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on John 14:15-21.

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Today’s passage is one of the several that serve as the basis for the doctrine of the Trinity. Looking ahead, John Nipper will be preaching on Trinity Sunday, sparing me from the burden of trying to explain it. Hey, he has a doctorate, so he should be qualified, right? If you’d like a good laugh, there’s a video from Lutheran Satire called “St. Patrick’s Bad Analogies.” Basically, every analogy we can come up with has been declared heretical, so we’re left with these complicated explanations like in this passage. Jesus says, I will send the Spirit, and he will be in you, and you will be in me, and I will come to you, and you will know that I am in my Father and I am in you.

OK, I give up. I’m not going to try to explain the Trinity. But I do feel an obligation to talk about the Holy Spirit. Jesus says he will send the parakletos. What the heck is that? This Greek word has a broader range of meaning than any one English word can really capture. All of our attempts to translate it either overshoot or undershoot the meaning. The King James Version uses “Comforter,” which sounds like a blanket. Other translations include “Helper,” which makes him sound subordinate. The NRSV that I just read uses “Advocate.” Now, that has a bit of a legal connotation, which is maybe overstated relative to the Greek, but let’s see where that can take us.

Are you all familiar with CASA? CASA stands for “court-appointed special advocate.” There is a national organization that covers both CASA volunteers and guardians ad litem, which are just slightly different because every state’s laws are different. But they all follow similar principles. From the National CASA/GAL website,

CASA/GAL volunteers are appointed by judges to advocate for children’s best interests. They stay with each case until it is closed and the child is in a safe, permanent home. We serve children from birth through the age defined by state statute as the limit to youth remaining in care.

Volunteers work with legal and child welfare professionals, educators and service providers to ensure that judges have all the information they need to make the most well-informed decisions for each child.

National CASA/GAL Association for Children

The CASA program grew out of an observation by a Seattle judge that he simply did not know enough to decide what was right for a particular three-year-old in his courtroom. Cases of abuse and neglect are complicated. Rarely is there an obvious villain and an obvious hero. Often, judges need to choose among a bunch of bad alternatives, some of which may appear to be better even though they are actually worse. I mean, it may make sense that a relative who has more financial stability is a better home, but not if their interpersonal dynamics are inappropriate and not conducive to the child’s healing and growth.

Another aspect of these situations is that often, the child is not really aware of what is in their best interest. An attorney assigned to represent the child is obligated to follow the child’s wishes. Well, they may choose a bad situation they know over a good situation they don’t know. This Mother’s Day, we should remember that some mothers are wonderful and provide a safe, loving, stable environment where a child can thrive; some mothers are wonderful but in bad circumstances due to other people in their lives or economic misfortune; some mothers are abusive, or suffer from addiction or mental illness, or are otherwise unable to provide a safe and loving environment for their children. A CASA volunteer helps the justice system work through those issues and find the best outcome for the child.

The website describes a five-point process:

• Learn: Learn all you can about the child and his or her family and life.
• Engage: Engage with the child during regular visits.
• Recommend: Speak up for the child’s best interests in court. Make recommendations regarding the child’s placement and needed services, and monitor the child’s situation until the case is released by the court.
• Collaborate: Collaborate with others to ensure that necessary services are provided and are in the child’s best interest.
• Report: Report what you have learned and observed to the court.

When I read this, I thought, What a great model for the action of the Holy Spirit! She is our Advocate, specially sent by the other two Persons of the Godhead to dwell with us until we are safely home. She learns all she can about us, which is everything. She dwells in us, walks with us, and watches over us. She advocates for our best interests in the world.

Elsewhere, Jesus advised his disciples that when they were in trouble, they shouldn’t make up in their mind ahead of time what they should say. Instead, they should let their hearts, minds, and words be guided by the Spirit. All throughout our lives, we can be sure that the Holy Spirit is there beside us, within us, ensuring that if we let her, she will work for our best interests.

Collaborate: A CASA volunteer collaborates with others to ensure that necessary services are provided. In the same way, the Holy Spirit binds us to each other, so that we can support one another. He knows that none of us can accomplish much on our own, even with God’s help, but we can change the world if we work together. We each have skills and talents. We each have connections in the community and a variety of roles in a variety of organizations. The Holy Spirit knows all of this, and enables us to work together to build God’s kingdom. He knows that we are all differently gifted, but each gift is an important part of God’s work. For example, our nominating committee discerns who would serve well as an elder, who would serve well as a deacon, and who would serve well as a trustee. They’ve done a great job, most recently in nominating Melba, who so obviously has the skills and attitude of a deacon. Our PNC needs to discern which pastoral candidate has the particular gifts that this church needs today. I have confidence that they will do so, as long as they remain connected to and guided by the Holy Spirit.

Yet in a sense, we already have the pastor we need. When John Oerter was here, he clarified that he was an interim pastor rather than an installed pastor. Pastors come and go. Just in my time here, we have had multiple interim pastors and two installed pastors. Remember, everything is temporary; whether installed or interim, none of them were permanent. But we do have a permanent Pastor: the Good Shepherd, the one who makes us lie down in green pastures and guides us beside still waters, the one who is the gate for the sheepfold.

One of the most important principles of the Reformation was the priesthood of all believers. In ancient Judea, before the destruction of the Temple in 66 A.D., only the descendants of Aaron were allowed to make offerings to the Lord. In both the Eastern Orthodox and the Roman Catholic traditions, priests serve as intermediaries for the sacraments and for other purposes. One reason Catholics pray to saints is that they don’t think they are allowed direct access to God, but instead need an intermediary. The Reformers looked at passages like today’s and said, No, that’s wrong. Jesus promised to send the Spirit, and then all through the Book of Acts we read about the Spirit descending on many people—not just priests. As long as we have the Holy Spirit, we may directly approach God. As long as we have the Holy Spirit, we are connected to each other and energized for the building of God’s kingdom. As long as we have the Holy Spirit, we are the body of Christ, doing Christ’s work in the world.

We don’t need a pastor to love God. We don’t need a pastor to love our neighbor. Now, I’m not saying that we don’t need a pastor at all, only that God is with us regardless. We can still come together to worship. We can still confess our sins, and we still know that we are forgiven. Rather than a priest giving us absolution, we simply need to be reminded that Jesus Christ already did that. We can still encounter the Word through the reading of scripture and illumination by the Holy Spirit. About the only thing we can’t do ourselves is communion and baptism. Now, I’ve been given special dispensation to serve communion to our congregation and to baptize two of our newest members, but I would argue that the approval I received is necessary to call ourselves Presbyterian, not to call ourselves Christian.

Over the past couple of weeks, we saw our limits, but also our capabilities, when we lost two members who were dear to us. If Carlene and Frank had passed away five years ago, Lou Ellen would have taken the lead on the arrangements. If they had passed away three years ago, there would have been no services because of the pandemic. But when they passed, the church rallied around. Thanks to Katie especially, and Tina, and Ken, and Amy, and Lorie, and Melba, and too many other people to name without leaving someone out, we came together to support the Mays and the Jessops. Some people were stretched thin, and maybe there were some things that could have been done better. But at the end of the day, we achieved the two basic goals: surrounding the families with love, and reminding them—and everyone who loved Carlene and Frank—of the hope that we have through the resurrection of our Lord. We were connected to each other, supported by each other, and strengthened individually and as a church by the action of the Holy Spirit.

So again, I’m not saying that the PNC should stop searching for a new pastor. What I’m saying is that with or without an installed pastor, WE are the church. A pastor might have new ideas for how we can act out our love of God and our love of our neighbors in the community, but the love remains the same. The love we share is the action of the Holy Spirit, flowing through us and among us.

The question before us, today and every day, is, who are the neighbors that we are passionate about serving? On campus, we’re going through an exercise to evaluate new and existing programs against four criteria: mission, demand, passion, and capacity. I would say that every program, every activity, in every organization, needs to be evaluated on these four dimensions. Our mission is to build God’s kingdom, but that’s too broad to be useful. Our community has a lot of needs, a lot of people who need to experience the love of God in their lives, but maybe not an awareness of how they can connect to that love or what role our church might fulfill in their lives. Passion—there are lots of things that we could do, but only if we have a critical mass of people who care deeply about making them a reality. And finally, capacity: the reality is that we cannot be all things to all people. We are empowered by the Holy Spirit who amplifies our efforts. Still, there are only so many hours in the day, and many of us have a lot of other demands on our time or are limited by health challenges. So again, there are lots of things that we could do, but only if we have people who are able to see them through.

I don’t know what the future holds for us. I don’t know what new ministries we should embark upon, or what we should stop doing so that we have the resources to grow in a different direction. What I do know is that as long as we are guided, strengthened, and energized by the Holy Spirit, we have everything we need to play our part in transforming the world. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on May 7, 2023. Based on John 14:1-14.

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Today’s passage is the start of John 14, but I’d like to back up to John 13 to set the stage. John 13 opens with Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, as an example that he sets for them. He goes on to say that someone will betray him, and then Judas Iscariot leaves to do just that. Jesus gives them the new commandment that they should love one another, and says that he will be going away where they cannot follow now. Quite an eventful chapter!

So now Jesus is really hitting his stride in his Farewell Discourse. This is his last night with his disciples, his last chance to tell them what they should do when he’s gone. He wants to be sure that they know who he is and what he means to the world. As is typical, the disciples are kind of dense and don’t fully understand what he’s saying, but Jesus tries.

Part of the reason they don’t understand is the same reason we don’t understand. Jesus describes an intimate relationship with God that is so far beyond most people’s experiences that it’s hard to comprehend. We can say the words—the Trinity is three persons who dwell in each other, bound together so strongly by love—but what does that really mean? Few people ever experience that kind of love, a transcendent love that changes the way you see the world. So Jesus does the best he can with the language at his disposal.

He tries with a metaphor. Jesus says, “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” Twenty-first century Americans don’t recognize this metaphor, but first-century Judeans would have. This is marriage imagery. Jesus is likening himself to a bridegroom who goes to prepare a place for the bride, where she can live with his family. In that time and place, the convention was for the bride to join the groom’s household, but of course there had to be a place for the new nuclear family to live. The groom would prepare it, and then come take his bride home to live with his family.

So that’s how Jesus describes his heavenly realm. It’s like one big family compound. As we read in so many places throughout the New Testament, the Church is the bride of Christ. He loves us and wants to build a new life with us.

Indeed, Jesus’s death is not the end, but a new beginning. It’s the end of his personal earthly ministry, but the beginning of his new heavenly ministry. In these last hours with his disciples and his last days on earth, he is preparing to join the Church with his heavenly realm and, in that way, establish God’s kin-dom.

Notice that he says that there are “many” dwelling places. He goes on to say, “No one comes to the Father except through me.” This is usually read with an exclusionist perspective: only Christians are allowed in heaven. It’s as if Jesus is ascending to become a bouncer and keep out the riffraff. I think it’s better to read it as if Jesus is ascending to become a greeter. He is preparing many dwelling places, enough for everyone. When we see him, he will welcome us with open arms and show us the way into his heavenly realm.

But wait: I’ve said many times that the kingdom of God isn’t just something that we see when we die. It’s here, right here, right at hand. God isn’t just in some faraway place, but is also here among us. Indeed, God is within us. Just like Jesus, we are bound up with God through the power of love.

So again, let’s remember the story that brought us to today. Jesus knows his time on earth is nearing the end, so he kneels and washes his disciples’ feet. Throughout the Gospel According to John, Jesus performs miracles, signs that grow more and more astounding, from the changing of water into wine to the raising of Lazarus. Jesus is God, Jesus is God, JESUS IS GOD! And then at the peak of the crescendo, what does he do? He serves his friends, as if a slave. Jesus is God, and yet he empties himself and takes on the most degrading task. Then he tells his disciples, This is what you should do. Love one another just like I have loved you. I am the way. If you’re ever wondering how to enter my kingdom, just do what I did, or what I would have done.

Jesus claims that we will do greater things than he did. How can that be? I don’t personally know anyone who has turned water into wine, much less raised the dead. Yet in a way, Christians have indeed been doing great things throughout history. A great historical mystery is how a small sect of a small religion developed into the world’s largest religion, currently claiming more than 30% of the world’s population. Historically, most religions were local or regional. How did Christianity come to be such a powerful global force? Well, one reason was the dedication of early Christians to serve their neighbors. Wherever Christians lived, they pushed the local authorities towards more humane policies, although with varying levels of success. They cared for the sick both within and outside their communities, despite persecution. They created the first hospitals. Maybe they weren’t raising the dead, but they were healing the sick and preventing death.

What else did Jesus teach his disciples? One principle was inclusion. Like I said, most religions in history were local or regional, or at least ethnically isolated. Christianity was the first religion where a gathering might include men and women of widely varied ethnic backgrounds, from all walks of life, from slaves to soldiers to aristocrats. It may have started as a sect within Judaism, but it quickly became dominated by non-Jewish believers. When Paul wrote, “There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus,” he was in fact describing the church in Galatia and holding it up as an example of how people should live together and how the church should grow.

Then there was non-violent resistance. First-century Jews were expecting a Messiah who would be a warrior, who would lead the heavenly host to expel the Romans and re-establish a Jewish theocratic kingdom. Jesus came and did not look anything like the Messiah they were expecting. Instead of a violent overthrow, he taught that his kingdom was not of this world and really had no interest in changing the way Judea and Galilee were governed. He focused on teaching people how to live together in the kingdom of God no matter what government claimed authority. That lesson didn’t really take hold in Christianity, though. It wasn’t too long before bishops were arguing with each other, supposedly over theological points but also over power and authority. Once we made a deal with Constantine, we committed ourselves to politics. In the centuries since then, we have struggled to escape the orbit of governmental authority. Even the Reformation, a time when Christians rejected many of the old teachings of the Roman Catholic church, turned into a time when rival denominations could set up local theocracies to enforce their own interpretation of the Bible. That was entirely the opposite of Jesus’s teachings, and yet we still can’t escape the attractiveness of power.

Jesus taught that instead of seeking power, instead of seeking earthly accolades, instead of trying to establish a theocracy by force, we should instead seek to change the world from the bottom up with the power of love. Leaders are not to be rulers who “lord it over” their subjects, but to become as slaves. He taught that we are to love one another as he did, a self-sacrificing love that prioritizes others’ welfare more highly than our own.

You have heard me speak about the Mission a number of times. There is a movement afoot in Rolla—and there has been for some time—to get the Mission shut down. It is led by property owners and business owners who feel that the value of their property or profitability of their business is negatively impacted by the poor and unhoused individuals who make use of the Mission’s services. Homelessness is indeed a problem in Rolla, but it is not unique to Rolla—it’s a problem in every city in the nation, one that eludes easy solutions. The most disappointing aspect of the movement against the Mission is that the leaders of it would consider themselves Christians—and in fact one is a minister. I have not heard any of them propose a solution that would involve showing Christian love to those who are struggling to improve their lives. You know, most people are just a few paychecks away from homelessness. The difference between those who become homeless and those who don’t is the absence or presence of a support network. Jesus taught us that instead of using our wealth and our position in the community for our own benefit, using it to protect ourselves from those we fear, we must value each person of the community and work for their good. We should be that support network that the homeless lack.

I recently listened to a podcast about the bystander effect. Briefly, it’s the phenomenon where you see a need but don’t act on it. You think, Geez, someone should do something. Well, I’m someone, and you’re someone. Jesus taught that we are called to act out our love. Love is not a feeling so much as an action, a calling to serve our neighbor in need.

Jesus knew this would be hard. But he said that we don’t need to do it alone. Jesus said that he is the way. If we follow his path, we will dwell in Him always, and he will dwell in us, and will do whatever we ask in his name. The way to the Father’s house is abiding in the Son, being filled with his love and strengthened by the Holy Spirit. That sounds an awful lot like heaven, right? Christ is defined by paradoxes: transcendent yet immanent, Lamb and Shepherd. Dwelling in Christ and following his example is both the path to heaven and heaven itself. It is the abundant life he promised here, and the eternal glory in the age to come. Let us seek now to follow his example of self-sacrificing love, a love that values others more than ourselves, a love that risks everything, a love that is heaven itself, a love that is both the journey and the destination. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on 1 Peter 1:13-25. This sermon discusses a concept referred to as the “Cosmic Christ.” If you would like to learn more, consult The Universal Christ by Richard Rohr, the meditations on the subject that his Center for Action and Contemplation published, or this blog post by Paul Axton. The concept is well-known in eastern Christianity and is an important part of Franciscan theology.

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Last week’s Gospel lesson was about Jesus showing himself to his disciples. It’s remembered as the story of Doubting Thomas, but I have long thought that Thomas gets a raw deal. NOBODY believed that Jesus had risen. Jesus showed himself to ten of his disciples, and after a few moments of disbelief, they realized what had happened. Thomas wasn’t there, so he was left in that pre-revelation state. “Yeah, right, guys, Jesus came back from the dead. Quit kidding around.” As soon as Jesus shows himself to Thomas, he believes, and indeed surpasses the other disciples in his response.

But in a sense, we are all like Thomas. I have not personally seen Jesus. None of us saw him in his human body, though some people I know have had visions like Paul did. For the vast majority of us who have not literally seen Jesus, believing in a risen Christ is really hard. It requires a suspension of all our normal ways of making sense of the world. The only reason I can accept the truthfulness of the Gospel accounts is that so many people risked their lives, and lost their lives, because of a story that is so ridiculous nobody would make it up. Literal bodily resurrection just wasn’t something that people even considered in that era.

We believe that through Christ, we have salvation. Indeed, Jesus’s actual Hebrew name, Yeshua, means “salvation.” A challenging theological discussion is, what about all the people who lived before Jesus did? Did Jesus go down to Sheol and raise them? Or are they just the victims of the bad luck of being born too soon?

We see in today’s text a hint about God’s plan of salvation. With echoes of the opening chapter of the Gospel According to John, we read that Christ was foreknown before the foundation of the world but was manifested in these last times for our sake. This is an incredible insight for the first century. Jesus was a man who was born at a certain time in a certain place, but Christ transcends humanity and was known from before Creation. We see hints of this same understanding in Peter’s affirmation that Jesus is the Christ, and in Paul’s writings to the Ephesians and Colossians.

Irenaeus was a bishop in the second century who wrote Against Heresies. At that time, Christianity had many different understandings about who or what Jesus was. Aside from the mainstream view, there were Gnostics and Marcionites. The Marcionites believed that the God of the Hebrew scriptures was different from God the Father of Jesus Christ. Irenaeus said no, they were one and the same. Christ was known from before the foundation of the world, and God the Father led and taught the Israelites until the world was ready for Christ’s revelation in Jesus of Nazareth. The Gnostics viewed the material world as inherently corrupt, an existence from which we seek to escape into the eternal realm of spirit. Irenaeus taught that what God created is good, and humanity is very good. All creation is ultimately destined for glorification.

Our glory comes through participation in God’s plan for redemption of all creation. Christ was present at the beginning. In fact, the universe was the first incarnation of Christ. Christ was the logos, the Word, the divine ordering principle that structured the creation of the universe. Christ was and is in all things. Whenever the spiritual world and the material world are in contact, Christ is there.

But Christ was hidden. God was revealed to the ancient Israelites, but they weren’t ready yet to understand God’s ultimate plan. They could picture God as a pillar of fire or a pillar of cloud or a burning bush or a still, small voice. They could imagine gods as inhabiting idols. But it took centuries for them to be ready for a God who was united with a human being.

Finally, when they were ready, Christ was incarnated through the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus was the fullest revelation of God, as a human who was fully united with the eternal, cosmic Christ. Jesus lived as an example of holiness. He demonstrated God’s love with his deep understanding of each person’s needs and the obstacles that each person erected between themselves and God. He demonstrated complete obedience to God’s will, even unto death.

His death was the end of that phase of God’s revelation, but the start of another. God had tried to teach the Israelites about the ultimate fate of the world and their role in it, but was ultimately unsuccessful. So Christ came to teach them more personally and individually about holy living. Through his death, he taught about self-giving love. Through his resurrection, he taught about the ultimate goodness of the world.

Because resurrection isn’t something that happened just once to Jesus, and isn’t something that only happens when we die. Resurrection is the process of renewal, the restoration of glory, the sanctification of our lives. When Christ was raised from the dead, he revealed this coming of glory into all things, and invited us to participate in glorifying our world.

What is the purpose of salvation? We are saved. What are we saved from, and what are we saved for? There is one way of reading the New Testament that implies that we need to follow Jesus’s teachings closely in order to earn our place in heaven. Strangely, some of the Christian traditions that teach, on the one hand, that our salvation is assured if, and only if, we pray the sinner’s prayer and profess our belief in Jesus ALSO teach that we must purge sin from our lives and quit drinking and dancing and such in order to be “real” Christians. There is another way of reading the New Testament that implies that really, accepting Jesus as our Lord is all that we need to do, and nothing else matters. To that teaching I would say, what’s the point of even living then? Traditions that say that nothing matters in this world are basically reviving the old Gnostic heresy, the belief that our goal should be to escape from the corruption of the material world.

Today’s reading, though, affirms the inherent goodness of this world. We are to become holy people. We are saved so that we may become more holy. We are saved so that we might reveal Christ who is in us. This is not about becoming sinless, which is impossible. We all fall short of the glory of God, try as we might. Becoming a holy people means aligning our lives more with God’s love. It means loving each other as if we were a family, one family that encompasses all people. It means shining forth with God’s love in those dark places of the world.

All around us, we see people in despair. We see people suffering from poverty, from addiction, from natural disasters, from violence and war. We see people suffering from loneliness, from family estrangement, from grief and fear. Homelessness is a serious problem with broad impact and no good solution. It is easy to become overwhelmed by the suffering of the world. How can I say that the material world is fundamentally good when it seems so bad? How do I find the hope that Amy spoke about last week?

In one translation, verse 17 of today’s reading says, “live out the time of your sojourn here in reverence.” This is our temporary home. We are like the Israelites who lived in Egypt, or who wandered in the wilderness, or who were exiled to Babylon. We are living in a broken world so that we may learn how to love more broadly and deeply. Yet just as in Egypt or the wilderness or Babylon, God is with us. And so, as God told Jeremiah, “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” The world will one day be fully transformed, but in the meantime, our calling is to make ourselves holy by seeking the welfare of the world we live in and praying to the LORD on its behalf. In this way, we will participate Christ’s work, begun at the foundation of the world, exemplified in the second incarnation that was Jesus of Nazareth, and continuing through the centuries since.

In the season of Easter, we celebrate the reality of Christ’s resurrection. He promised that he would always be with us by the power of the Holy Spirit. Sanctification is not a task for us to do alone. It is a process by which we allow Christ to more fully inhabit us. We surrender control of our lives and let God direct us. We turn from serving ourselves to serving others. It’s a process that is never finished, one that proceeds as two steps forward, one step back. Yet we have been given this assurance, that God will never abandon us. Israel and Judah were exiled because they stopped trying to follow God’s will, but God did not abandon them forever. God was with them in their exile, and God accompanied them as they returned, and God ultimately came to them in the person of Jesus. Like the ancient Israelites, we sometimes need God to shake us and grab our attention, but remember, God’s presence is never lacking, only our awareness.

And as we grow in Christ, we will be more able to see Christ revealed through the power of love. We will become more aware of the inherent goodness of the people we meet and learn to love them as fellow children of God, rather than fearing or hating or shunning them. That creates a positive spiral, where love breeds more love, where compassion breeds more compassion, where small acts of kindness lead to transformative relationships. In that way, we become a more holy people, clothed in Christ, living our sojourn here in reverence of Christ who is all and in all. Amen.

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Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla on April 2, 2023, Passion Sunday. Based on Matthew 26:57-68.

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The lectionary passage for today is actually much longer than this. It’s the whole Passion story, basically all of Matthew 26 and 27. I encourage you to read the whole story sometime this week as you prepare for Easter. It’s a long text, rich in meaning, too much for one sermon. In fact, in some churches, they simply read the whole story in place of the sermon. I chose a piece of the story here instead. Let’s back up and see how we got here.

I looked back through the Gospel According to Matthew to find out the reason he gives for Jesus’s arrest. In large part, we see in Matthew a series of arguments between Jesus and the priests, scribes, Sadducees, and Pharisees, that is, the religious establishment. It culminates in Jesus’s preaching against the way they are treating their fellow Israelites. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Jesus says again and again. Then he starts a discourse about being ready for the coming kingdom.

We are a Matthew 25 church in a Matthew 25 presbytery. The two chapters before this passage, after the woes Jesus preaches against the establishment, are an essential discourse that culminates in the separation of the sheep and the goats—the nations who cared for Jesus when he was hungry or naked or in prison, and those who did not. Just as we do or do not do for the last, the least, and the lost, so also we do for Jesus. Once he has delivered this message about caring for our neighbors, he tells his disciples that his time is short, and he is about to be handed over to be crucified.

Jesus has one last supper with his disciples, one that we will remember together shortly. Then, he goes to the garden of Gethsemane to pray, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet not what I want but what you want.” He is greatly disturbed in spirit, praying three times that the burden will pass from him, while his disciples sleep. Despite praying for deliverance, he is handed over to the religious authorities by Judas, his betrayer.

So now: Jesus has spent a year or more preaching the coming kingdom, teaching his disciples, and arguing with the religious authorities. He has never once held back. When Sadducees argue with him over the resurrection, he corrects their misunderstanding. When Pharisees try to entrap him with a question about taxes, he turns the tables on them. Oh, and speaking of tables, he flips the tables of the moneychangers and drives the animals out of the Temple.

But here, he is silent. Defenseless. When they come to the garden to arrest him, he goes without a fight, and even rebukes a companion who tries to defend him. When he is brought before Caiaphas, he makes no protests against the false testimony against him, and he doesn’t try to explain the metaphorical meaning of his so-called threat against the Temple. He remains silent until he is forced to speak, and even then, simply quotes scripture, the book of Daniel.

Let’s consider Jesus’s options along the way. He knew what was coming. He told his disciples what was coming. First off, he could have stayed away from Jerusalem altogether. He could have remained in Galilee, preaching to the Galileans and hoping that the message would spread from there. He could have had a much longer preaching career that way. Think of how much more he could have taught us and how many more people he could have healed. Or, having come to Jerusalem, and knowing that Judas was going to betray him, he could have run away. That’s certainly the natural response for someone who is under threat and outnumbered.

Or, Jesus could have embraced his role as a leader of rebellion. The high priest essentially accused him of being a rebel; he could have truly become one, turned his disciples into an army and supplemented them with the heavenly host, twelve legions of angels. He was the Son of God, after all. He could have called down fire from heaven, sent the army of the Lord ahead of him to destroy the Romans, and re-established the reign of David’s lineage. When people talk about the Second Coming, that’s basically what they describe, right? Jesus could have “done it right” the first time.

Fight, flight, or freeze. Jesus chose not to fight. He chose not to flee. So did he freeze? No. When the temple authorities arrested him, he rebuked his companion who tried to defend him, explained that this was all necessary to fulfill the scriptures, and criticized the authorities for arresting him by night in the garden instead of by day in the temple. He was in full command of his faculties and perfectly able to defend himself.

But he didn’t. He chose his path. He knew that once he started his ministry, sooner or later, the day would come when he had to confront the religious establishment. He also knew that nothing he could say would change the outcome. We like to quote Jesus from the Gospel According to John, “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” Yet the truth has a time and a place. You can speak the truth, but if the other person is not ready to hear it, they won’t listen. Jesus knew that Caiaphas and the others were not ready for the radical truth of his Gospel: that he was initiating the messianic age, that he was overturning the powers and principalities of this world, that he is the resurrection and the life.

So instead of saying all these things, Jesus waited until the time was right, then calmly stated his truth for the record. The effect was just as he expected: rage.

Once when I was going through some difficult times, a pastor reminded me: the only way out is through. There are some trials in our lives that are simply unavoidable. We can perhaps delay them, perhaps soften them, but ultimately, some conflicts and difficulties are inevitable. When Jesus called his first disciples, he set himself on a path that would lead to conflict with the religious authorities. He delayed the inevitable so that he would have time to teach his disciples, and then accepted his fate.

Why was Jesus born? Well, as I said last week, he came to teach us how to live. The Passion story is a vivid example of how to embrace your calling. Jesus was called to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God. He knew what the result of his proclamation would be, so he prepared himself for the time of trial. We read again and again that he withdrew to a quiet place to pray, and on this most fateful night, he went to the garden of Gethsemane to pray earnestly, with his whole being. His prayer was one of ultimate surrender: Not my will, but thy will be done. He sought full unity with the Father and the Holy Spirit.

Then when the trial came, Jesus had the strength to fulfill his mission. He had the strength to resist the urge to fight or to flee. He had the strength and wisdom to hold his tongue until the right time. He had the right words to speak in his defense, once more a proclamation of the coming messianic kingdom. And he had the strength to endure the torture and the agony of crucifixion.

We too can turn to God for strength. I read Psalm 37 last night and it fits here really well. Here are selected verses from this psalm that Jesus surely knew:

The wicked plot against the righteous

    and gnash their teeth at them,

but the LORD laughs at the wicked,

    for he sees that their day is coming.

 The LORD knows the days of the blameless,

    and their heritage will abide forever;

they are not put to shame in evil times;

    in the days of famine they have abundance.

But the wicked perish,

    and the enemies of the LORD are like the glory of the pastures;

    they vanish—like smoke they vanish away.

The mouths of the righteous utter wisdom,

    and their tongues speak justice.

The law of their God is in their hearts;

    their steps do not slip.

The wicked watch for the righteous

    and seek to kill them.

The LORD will not abandon them to their power

    or let them be condemned when they are brought to trial.

The salvation of the righteous is from the LORD;

    he is their refuge in the time of trouble.

The LORD helps them and rescues them;

    he rescues them from the wicked and saves them

    because they take refuge in him.

Psalm 37 (selected verses)

We too can lean on God for strength. Whatever our calling, we know that we will encounter difficulties. Most of us aren’t called to proclaim the kingdom of God to the masses, but we are all called to show God’s love to everyone. That can be really hard, because not everyone is so loveable. Maybe you’re called to show compassion to the sick, which means helping them to carry the burden of their illness. Maybe you’re called to serve the church as an elder, deacon, or trustee, and the work is draining. Maybe you’re called to serve the community through The Mission or GRACE or Russell House or one of the other worthy organizations, and you’re overwhelmed by the need.

No matter what your calling, you can follow Jesus’s example and rely on God for your strength. As he showed us, our complete surrender to God’s will gives us the strength to continue until we see “the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.” The only way out is through, but we know that God will be with us on the journey. Amen.

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