Dragons or Dreams?

I have heard that the old map makers would draw maps as far out as they had explored, and then when they reached the endpoint of their exploration, they would write on the edge of the map, "Beyond this, there may be dragons." Although they'd never seen a dragon, they were afraid of the uncharted, the unknown.
At the turning of the year, we can choose to imagine the possibilities for doing good, loving well, seeing the potential in others, and viewing life as a glass half full. Or,we can look ahead with uncertainty of the unknown, the uncharted days ahead. We can circle our wagons, clutch our possessions, tighten our control on whatever; we can live each day in relative fear. God knows there is evidence to lead in this direction.

We can plan well, but we know how that goes; we can make decisions but not control the outcomes. Our times have taught us the meaning of "web" - and it may be the main metaphor of our current human condition. Like it or not, we are connected to strangers who with a snap of their fingers can change our life. Our thoughtful strategies, our carefully mapped out plans are pawns on the global chessboard. So the question is, shall we see dragons or dreams?

You may have your future mapped out. Good for you. I have some plans too, and I hope they work out. But beyond the plans and the hope, I remember the promise Jesus gave to his friends as he left them standing near Jerusalem: "I am with you always, to the end of the age."
It's that promise that tips the scale for me.
Here's to the New Year. May God bring blessing to you, peace in your home, and the vision to see dreams, not dragons in 2011.
Grace and peace,
Bill

Kissing the Joy

Can you tell me why some days overflow with joy while others are humdrum at best, and the pits at worst? July 5th - an extra day in a magnificent weekend; should have been one of those joyful days, with nothing big planned...rest, relaxation, a small household project, topped off by a White Caps game with good friends...pretty much the good life. No complaints; all good. but in the grand scheme of things, it came and went as expected. Some days, like July 5, you are just glad that nothing went wrong to spoil the plans. So be it.

Then there was yesterday, July 6. The extra day off on Monday set Tuesday's agenda - picking up loose ends from Sunday. I figured a day in the office was in order; mail from the long weekend, the last few Annual Conference details to wrap up, phone calls to return, a worship service to build...pretty much the normal routine of life. Same old, same old...

Then, bit by bit, unplanned and unannounced, joy arrived: (1) A phone call made to the insurance company produced the good news -- more reimbursement than expected for items stolen on Palm Sunday evening; (2) An email from a young couple whose wedding I officiated in 2003, asking about baptism of their first child; (3) A trip to Novi to see our two grandsons, Brendan who played baseball and Karson who just played...oh - our son Nick was there too. All an incredible gift; (4) Finally, at the end of the day, an 11th-inning walk-off home run by Johnny Damon to keep the Tigers alone in first place.  Even the one planned event - the trip to Novi - provided it's own unpredictable moments of joy - a fist-bump after Brendan's come-from-behind victory and an exuberant hello-hug from Karson, complete with dusty hand-prints all over my shirt. The kind of hand prints you want to frame and hang on your wall.

Taken together, these two days are proof positive of the Yiddish proverb: Mann traoch, Gott Lauch (Man plans, God laughs). 

William Blake has a little poem, "Eternity" where he talks about how a too-tight grip on life destroys it. His advice is to release our grip and "kiss the joy as it flies."

"He who binds to himself a joy, does the winged life destroy.
He who kisses the joy as it flies, lives in eternity's sunrise."

We hold tightly to life and we find disappointment; we destroy the winged life. But if we kiss the joy as it flies through our experiences, our thoughts, our coming and going...every such moment is a sunrise.

I'm a planner, an organizer, a designer of much in my life, which is to say that I must leave God laughing a lot. One thing I know: When the God-given joy flies unexpectedly in, I can cling desperately to it, freezing the moment for future reference like a fist-bump, or dusty hand-prints on my shirt. Or, I can kiss it and let it go, knowing there will be another sunrise simply because that's how grace works. I think I'll give grace a chance.

This is My Song
With gratitude to Georgia Harkness, ca. 1939.
United Methodist Hymnal, © 1989, The United Methodist Publishing House

“O God of all the nations…”
On this Independence Day I pray for the safety of those who serve in our armed forces, and for the safety of those who serve in other countries, including those who oppose us. As always, the front lines are those who either feel they have no other choice for a future than military service, or they are answering a call which they believe to be more compelling than anything else. They are doing their duty, and scripture commands that we support our governments. They cannot be asked to take scripture less seriously than those who choose another way to express it.

“But other hearts in other lands are beating…”
I continue to pray for an end to war, which is idolatry in its most violent expression. My heart aches for families separated and devastated by wars that have no justification, if war ever does. I pray for an end to the greed of leaders at home and abroad causing or allowing injustice, whether in our land or others, and an end to the hatred that is founded in fear of those who believe differently than I do. I pray that Christians, Muslims or Jews whose founders all share a common holy city, though they may not understand their Creator in the same way, will all work and pray for peace, guided by the God who is known through the rituals and symbols that were forged among the peoples of the middle east.

“But other lands have sunlight too, and clover…”
I pray for the homeless in our country, and for those forced to leave their homeland and families to become homeless in our nation. Whether they be legal or illegal by current political definition, people of faith are called to live under another Authority as well, and to welcome the sojourners, offering hospitality as if they are ‘angels’. One who walked with Jesus said, “Once we ourselves were not a people, but now we are God's people, by the mercy of God.” (1 Peter 2:10). God is merciful, and we are made in the image of God. So should we be merciful.

“Thy kingdom come, on earth thy will be done…”
I pray not that we return to some imagined “Christian nation’ of the past; that state is a revised memory of the true history of our beginnings. I do pray that we step boldly into the future as Godly people, for God is already there and awaits our faithful response to his leading. America at its best does not replicate the past, but imagines a better future, and strives forward to improve the conditions of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all of our people. We are called to be better than our past.

“Let Christ be lifted up till all shall serve him…”
I am a Christian, and I understand the power that comes from beyond me, without which I am nothing. I pray I will never be speechless about that power. But others whose religion is different than mine also know this power that comes from a source beyond, and I rejoice that we have this in common: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble”. (Psalm 46:1)

“and hearts united, learn to live as one…”
I am a Christian and a Citizen of the U.S., but that doesn't prevent me from recognizing and respecting the faith of those whose God is revealed in the culture and customs of Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel, India, China, Japan, Thailand, Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Egypt, Latin America, or the Arctic Circle. I know in whom I have believed, yet I seek common ideals that bind me with other humans who seek the same peace.

“O hear my prayer, God of all the nations…”
I believe in Jesus Christ, who said he is the way, the truth and the life. I believe his way is among the greatest gifts humankind has received by grace, and that his way and his words have the power to lead all people into the presence of God. This Jewish carpenter did not establish a new religion (nor did his followers think it necessary), but instead he asked all of us to be transformed by God as our own religion guides us. He showed us the prophets of his faith as an example, and urged that we treat one another with justice, mercy, and humility; in fact he asked us only to love God and love our neighbor. (Matthew 22:37-39). Every religion at its best does that too. Imagine if we would all devote ourselves to it, and nothing else? Those without faith would be more convinced of the power of our prayer, and the vitality of our faith.

“myself I give thee; let thy will be done.”
On this Independence Day, I pray that I’ll always remember how dependent I am upon the grace of God, and upon those who join in the human endeavor to rise to the highest level of living possible – life in concert with the will of God. I pray that I will not forget to look for the places where God is making his will known, and that I, without fear or hesitation, freely and joyfully make that will my own. This is my song.

Bill Johnson
July 4, 2010

Good News in a Jar

“Saying Grace”
Luke 7:39-50
June 13, 2010

Do you know this man?
He’s Armando Galarraga, a 28-yr. old pitcher for the Detroit Tigers. On Wednesday, June 2nd, he silenced the bats of 26 Cleveland Indians in a row. No one reached first base, 26 batters up, 26 batters down. He didn’t walk anybody; he didn’t hit anybody with a wild pitch…he threw about 80 pitches and with errorless defense by his teammates, including a phenomenal catch in center field by Austin Jackson…. He managed to send every batter back to the dugout with nothing but goose eggs in the score book.
Then the 27th batter – a rookie name Jason Donald who became a major leaguer on May 18th, hit a ground ball between first and second base. If you do the math, you can figure out that the 27th batter is the ninth batter in the line-up. You have to know that everyone in Comerica Park was thinking – this guy is batting ninth – he’s the least likely guy in the lineup today, to get on base..ground ball to the infield. This is a sure thing! History in the making – the first Perfect Game for the Detroit Tigers – ever! Tiger first baseman Miguel Cabrerra moved to his right and fielded it cleanly, turned and threw the ball perfectly to Galarraga who was covering first base. Galarraga caught the ball, stepped on first with his right foot, just before Donald’s left foot touched the base. The umpire, veteran Jim Joyce was in perfect position to make the call. “He’s out!” (picture of play at first base)
No, Joyce called him safe. Watch:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fStZ2sDPDeg
As is typical when there is a bad call in sports, most fans reacted with emotion. And all of that emotion this time was aggression; and it was directed toward Jim Joyce; I mean thousands of Twitter comments and blog posts flooding cyberspace, often expressing frustration with all manner of vulgarities. The next few hours were a powder keg of reaction, so much so that some raised questions about safety for umpire Jim Joyce.
But then, almost as quickly as it started, the pandemonium began to subside. What we later learned is that the umpire had gone quickly to his quarters beneath the stands at Comerica Park, watched the replay of his call, and realized how very wrong he was. He called for Galarraga to come to the umpire’s dressing room. Think about this…if you were Armando Galarraga, how would you have responded to the guy who had just ripped your name out of the history books? Well, he went. Galarraga went to see Jim Joyce, and there something happened.
Act of Grace #1: The one who blew it, asked for forgiveness from his victim. He said he was sorry.
Act of Grace #2: Galarraga accepted his apology. Despite the disappointment, he simply said he was very proud of his work at Comerica Park on that Wednesday evening, and that everyone, umpires included, make mistakes, and nobody’s perfect. Tiger Manager Jim Leyland also needs to be credited with stemming the tide against the umpire, because the next day, with Jim Joyce now behind the plate, when it was time to present the starting lineup cards to the home plate umpire, when Leyland could have taken the card himself, instead he sent – guess who – that’s right – Armando Galarraga to hand the lineup card to Joyce. [picture of Galarraga and Jim Joyce at home plate]
Act of Grace #3: Leyland wanted everyone in the stands, and everyone watching on TV, that Major League Baseball, in spite of all the bad press from steroids, gambling, astronomical salaries and other forms of hedonism…Leyland wanted us to know that some who make their living in professional sports have character. Some of them know about grace.
As I looked at the bible story for this week, I thought about this incident, because there are some places where the New Testament story and this current event do intersect.
Listen to this story told by Luke and paraphrased by Eugene Peterson in The Message, and then we’ll draw some contrasts:

[Luke 36-50, The Message]

Now let’s look at the places where these two stories intersect – a mistaken call by an umpire, and the story of a Pharisee’s dinner party.

Jesus is approached by a man of wealth and power – a Pharisee named Simon – with an invitation to dinner at his home. On the surface it sounds like an opportunity for Jesus to share the Good News with some powerful, influential people; a rare opportunity to rub elbows with movers and shakers. Think of the good that might come of this?
But as Luke unfolds this story, you begin to get the feeling that hospitality toward a young preacher is just not what Simon has in mind; Luke’s audience would see this: the invitation is not really a genuine offer of hospitality. What Simon is doing, in fact, is setting up Jesus for ridicule by his snobby house guests. He wants to display this interesting, quaint rural rabbi Jesus in front of his affluent friends. This could be good entertainment! Who knows what Jesus’ presence might add to this dinner party?
So the banquet begins…
it would have been served in the manner fashionable in the wealthiest homes of the city. There would be couches, with each guest supported on an elbow. His sandals would be removed for him, and the street dust and grime would be washed off.
Behind the couches, hidden in the shadows, would be outsiders permitted to approach the guests for – shall we say – “various “reasons”.
One of the outsiders is a woman who Luke describes as a “sinner.”
Everyone present, including the woman, knows that she is a sinner. In her self-awareness she is drawn to Jesus as one who offers forgiveness and hope. Jesus sees her as a child of God, and their encounter is an occasion for restoration in her life and a new beginning for her. Furthermore, he shames Simon for not doing for him what was the custom – removing his sandals, washing his feet, greeting him with a kiss of hospitality.
All of this is hard on Simon. He sees in the woman not a child of God but a threat to his good standing in the community. She is someone to avoid. Simon is not a bad man. He is anxious to do right, to be right, to be good. Mark Twain once said about someone, “he’s a good man in the worst sense of the word” and that phrase applies to Simon the Pharisee. His righteousness gets in the way. He is oblivious to the fact that he too is a sinner forgiven and healed by grace. He is unaware how he and this woman are connected –they are really a lot more alike than he can imagine. But he does not offer hospitality to Jesus and he judges the woman for who she appears to be. In his moral purity he shuts himself off from the grace Jesus offers, and from ever offering God’s grace to an outsider like this woman. Simon is the loser here, not the woman.
Simon's story is too often the church's story. And people who are like the woman in the story feel it. Do you know that there is a world of people like this woman, drawn to Jesus but who avoid the Church? Phillip Yancey tells the story of a friend of his in Chicago who worked with the poor in the city. His friend was visited once by a prostitute who was in dire straits. In order to support her drug habit she had been renting out her two-year old daughter for sex; she was homeless, sick, and unable to buy food for herself or her daughter. Yancey's friend asked if she had thought about going to a church for help, and the woman seemed horrified. “Church?! Why would I ever go there? I am already feeling terrible about myself. They'd just make me feel worse." She had experienced church as a place of judgment; anything but a place of radical hospitality.
In his commentary on this story Fred Craddock wonders, “Where does one go when told to go in peace as Jesus instructs this woman to do at the end of our story?” “What she needs," Craddock says, "is a community of forgiven and forgiving sinners. The story," he says, "screams the need for a church, one that says you are welcome here." She had such a welcome from Jesus.
What about our church? I wonder if in our lesser moments we have been slow to be generous, like Simon the Pharisee, who needed grace just as much as the woman but didn’t know it. By our silence or our failure to offer Good News to those who most need it, are we letting people outside our walls come to the conclusion that our message is like the thousands of name-calling, umpire bashing “Tweeters” who in their judgmental condemnation of this very human mistake, fail to see their own need for grace?
Or is our message like the one Jesus preached to the woman?
Here is the test: Where and when have we seen examples of extravagant, generous giving in our community? Because wherever we have seen it, we have seen the evidence of God’s grace coming before. There is no other evidence of God’s grace than acts of generosity. And where generosity is missing, folks are just plain failing to see that God is at work in their midst. They are missing the mark.
It is nearly impossible for most of us to comprehend a God who forgives without merit, who loves us anyway, who keeps calling us home to the fullness of life that only God can give. But we have to try, because that’s what people do who want to follow the way of Jesus, and name God’s grace at work. Christ-followers grant forgiveness, provide opportunities to turn that forgiveness into extravagant generosity on our part – or to use the image from a really good motion picture - to Pay it Forward – in order to risk offering great love. This is so much better than standing in judgment.
We can yield the fruits of forgiveness and be messengers of great mercy and grace.
We can be vessels of great mercy and grace.
We can be at least as gracious as a 28-yr-old pitcher named Galarraga.

The Park's Got Talent

Do you know that churches have stories? They do. Congregations carry in their collective memory, the major events of their history. Those events help give a congregation its identity – it tells them and others who they are. Often they are referred to as “watershed” events, because they act as a turning point, a crucial dividing line for the church….

wa·ter·shed

Pronunciation: \wȯ-tər-shed

Function: noun

Date: 1803

1 a : divide 2a b : a region or area bounded peripherally by a divide and draining ultimately to a particular watercourse or body of water
2 : a crucial dividing point, line, or factor : turning point

— watershed adjective

Dear Friends,

We had guests visiting in worship on February 7 who were there because our family was here from Virginia. My sister’s friend since junior high drove Sunday morning from Hickory Corners, Michigan with her husband and daughter, for a brief reunion with Karey and her family. To find Wyoming Park and the details about worship, Kim visited our web site. Afterwards Kim spoke about her first impression of Wyoming Park –our web site. Her words were striking, “You sure do have a lot of things going. You have lots of groups, and service projects.”

In that remark, Kim was telling our story.

I believe that Saturday, February 6 will stand as a watershed event. Something crucial happened in the ramping up, the preparation and the production of “The Park’s Got Talent – a Spaghetti Dinner and Variety Show for Missions”.

It wasn’t the meal, delicious and plentiful though it was.

It wasn’t the emphasis on missions. We have been mission-minded throughout our 98-year history, and in fact Wyoming Park United Brethren Church was founded as a “mission outpost” by another congregation in 1912. Since then every major building project (1914, 1952, 1958 and 2002) was in response of a desire to serve the neighborhood better. You can read about this in the minutes of meetings at “The Park” as early as 1912.

It wasn’t even the celebration of the extraordinary gifts that God has given this congregation through our people. This too, we have always known.

No…it was something more than these, and it all came together in Kim’s remark. “You have lots of groups and service projects.”

Kim – an outsider to our church until worship on February 7 – was able to see our story from afar, that small group life and service to God and others are the hallmarks of our life together.

Worship is critical of course. It pulls us together weekly to celebrate God’s goodness and look for inspiration to lead us into the next week, or new direction, or a new life.

But more than worship, our congregation exists to connect our people to God, to one another and to the world.

This watershed event – “The Park’s Got Talent” was one example of who we are. It mirrors for us and those who see us, a glimpse of God’s hope and dream for this church. It is both an example of our vision, and an example of how we carry it out.

In years ahead, members can tell their friends how our congregation emphasizes mission in service to our neighbors: Kids Hope USA, Habitat for Humanity, South End Community Outreach Ministries, the Wyoming Park Home Renewal Team, and Cass Community United Methodist Church and Social Services.

They will tell their children they are the Church right now, like Andrew and Sarah Pyper who charmed us with a magic show.

They will tell how Nick Stanford sang and played above the challenges that most of us will never face, and who lives life to the fullest in spite of visual impairment.

They will smile about groups that crooned oldies but goodies and David’s Harp masked as jungle animals, and Tricia, Nicole and Jessie crying over the “Leader of the Pack”. They will remember Trevor and Christina who “Don’t Stop Believing”; they will roar when they think of Dave, Dan and Steve – those hilarious “Men in Tights”! They will giggle over the antics of our fun-loving MC, Robert Eckert, whose brain is so big it can bend an arrow!

And of course, they will talk about the delicious spaghetti dinner prepared by Cindy Lavengood and friends and the Silent Auction engineered by Judy Johnson that capped off the fund raiser to raise the proceeds over $1000!

And the best is this: While they tell this story, they will be remembering that it wasn’t about us. It was about pulling our people together to show God’s care for neighbors.

There is our story, right there. This watershed moment crystallized our life together, our vision and our hope for the future.

Once we dwelt upon rough days in our past, and we may see more ahead. But when those days come, this congregation will be different than we were. Once, we weren’t sure who we were. We played the victim when difficulties led to fractures; we licked our wounds and blamed events and people for our plight. We moaned, “If only there were enough people and enough money to be what we know deep down we can be.”

But February 7 we changed our tune and said, “Enough.” On February 7, 2010 the turning point came, a crucial dividing point, a line.

From now on, when someone asks about Wyoming Park, a witness will say, “that’s the church that has enough resources, enough enthusiasm, enough vision, enough gifts, to accomplish enough of whatever they believe God is leading us to accomplish. They do it through lots of groups and service projects.”

The vision needs “legs” now. It needs to be spelled out in detail. We need a mission statement that says how we intend to keep the vision alive – how we will be what we say we are.

Think about this story. This spring, I would like a small group to assume the responsibility for drafting a vision statement that says clearly who we are. The next step is then to outline the things we will do faithfully to make sure the vision stays alive. That will be our mission.

From then on, everything we do, every ministry we try, every outreach that we choose for service will be aligned with our vision and our mission. Let’s get started. It's watershed time.

Bill

The Woman at the Well

John 4:1-26 (The Message)

January 31, 2010

Our worship series, characterized by the stories of selected women in the Bible is nearly over.

We have retold the stories of these women with the hope of answering the question, what do their stories teach us about God, and about God’s relationship to us?

Each of these women in her own way has contributed to our understanding.

From Lot’s wife we learned that God is calling us forward and sometimes looking back endangers our future.

From Ruth we learned that faith can be far more tolerant and open than we often understand it to be.

From Esther, we saw that God calls us to holiness, and doing good through whatever circumstances present themselves to us, is a way to be holy.

From Martha and Mary, we saw two sides of the same coin, and that whether we identify with Martha’s service or Mary’s desire to know more – it doesn’t matter; it’s the peace of Christ in heart, and mind and soul that is the better part.

Today our story is about an encounter that Jesus has with a Samaritan woman, and she too has something to teach us.

If I could change one thing about myself that would, I think, make a huge difference in my life and in the lives of others, it would be to see people as Jesus sees them. I would like to be able to accept people the way Jesus does in this story.

The reality is that I don’t work that hard at it with those around me - people I know casually as neighbors, as colleagues and even you – the people that I ought to know a lot about…

Living next door to us is a young family, Darrin, Theresa and their daughter Sienna, who Judy tells me is almost 5 years old. Notice, I said “Judy tells me”…See?

They have lived next door to us for I imagine about six years or more, the entire life of the little girl at any rate; and yet I can’t remember the most significant event in their family life beyond their union as a couple: the birth date of Sienna.

We have watched them come and go; we have seen grandma and grandpa drive up for visits, staying for days at a time; seen Sienna and her daddy in the yard working on landscaping, going for walks; Judy has baked Christmas goodies for them, and Darrin has been a good neighbor and taken his snow blower down the sidewalk in front of our house.

But I don’t know where Darrin or Theresa works, or the kind of work they do. I couldn’t remember Sienna’s name as I was preparing this sermon.

It is a little disappointing to me that I can’t tell you more about them.

And when it all comes down, I haven’t tried very hard to know them. And if this is true for neighbors who live next door to each other, how much more is it true for people who live a continent or more away?

What about you? Are there people that you see, but don’t really see?

I imagine there are several reasons that we don’t see each other as Jesus saw the Samaritan woman:

· We lead very busy lives

· We have our most important relationships to care for: our family and closest friends, and that takes energy and time in the healthiest of families

· We have met some people and have decided that they are people we can do without; either we don’t have that much in common with them, or perhaps in moments of brutal honesty, we just don’t like them very much and aren’t willing to spend the effort to change that.

But that is not the way of Christ.

Jesus' walk into Samaria and his talk with the woman at the well call attention to his way of seeking to know people; and this particular story shows us Jesus reaching out to someone who was really outside his normal circle.

Just look: He was in territory that was considered off-limits, and he was talking to someone he wasn’t supposed to. He could hardly have picked anyone with a lousier reputation for conversation – a Samaritan, a woman, and someone with a history that is right out of Hollywood.

But given the opportunity, Jesus built a bridge where there was a wall.

Jesus has always done that.

You would think this would be nothing but a tremendous victory for Jesus.

The truth is the whole thing drove the religious establishment crazy – the fact that Jesus spoke to her, drew her out, and revealed the truth of his identity to her.

What’s more, in John’s Gospel, this woman then becomes the first evangelist – one who proclaims the good news of the Messiah’s coming. Did you get that? The first missionary of Jesus in John’s gospel, is not one of his disciples; it is a woman who was branded untouchable by her own community.

Let’s look at what’s going on here.

When Jesus left the Judean countryside and headed for Galilee, John tells us he “had to go through Samaria.”

Geographically speaking, that just wasn’t so. The more common travel route north and south for Jews in Jesus’ day would have been to follow the Jordan River valley, where there would have been ample supply water and food along the way. It made no sense to head for the desert, with rocky and hilly terrain, when there was a perfectly smooth route through more travel-friendly ground to the Galilee.

John is telling us, the need for Jesus to go through Samaria was a missional one. God’s mission in the world sent Jesus on this path. He needed to go through Samaria in order to build a bridge with some of God’s children who were to be included in the realm of God’s love no less than the so-called chosen people.

Break it down like this: Jesus knew something that we are only beginning to see in our age. He knew that the planet is really quite a small place.

In his book, The Hungering Dark, Frederick Buechner compares humanity to a giant spider web:

If you touch it anywhere, you set the whole thing trembling .... As we move around this world and as we act with kindness, perhaps, or with indifference, or with hostility, toward the people we meet, we too are setting the great spider web a-tremble. The life that I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place and time my touch will be felt. Our lives are linked. No man [no woman] is an island .... (Frederick Buechner, The Hungering Dark [New York: Seabury Press, 1969], 45-46)

I would like to be able to see people as Jesus does, and see that every person I meet is someone whom God loves, and wants to be part of the wondrous human family.

I would like to see people as Jesus does and accept people wherever they are, and see the potential for common life instead of seeing the barriers that need to be overcome.

I would like to see worship as Jesus does; I would like to see the day when $50,000 of our annual income does not go to a mortgage.

Can you imagine what even half of that money could do, spread throughout our budget for ministry and mission?

Dream for just a moment, about those funds being devoted to serving the people of greater Grand Rapids and beyond, who are hungry, thirsty, homeless, friendless; who are without proper health care, and who need more educational services than our legislators are willing to devote to them.

Can you dream about that?

It’s hard to dream that, because I just don’t see people as Jesus saw that Samaritan woman.

I filter every person through human terms --- race, culture, economics, religion, gender orientation – and I can’t seem to get past those surface differences, and get to the spirit and truth, get to the sacredness of human beings who seem different than me.

Jesus said to the Samaritan woman, that “…the time is coming - it has, in fact, come - when what you're called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter”.

What if I really acted as if I believe that?

Then wouldn’t I see others without that filter, with an open mind and heart? Wouldn’t I look for what new experience God can bring to me?

When it comes to worship, wouldn’t I try to see the wonderful variety in the ways that people adore and give praise to God; the many ways they approach God in prayer; the myriad names they have for God?

Instead, I am afraid that I take the Jordan River valley route, bypassing some of God’s children that are just too different, too strange, to far outside my comfort zone.

If I could see people as Jesus does, and accept people wherever they are, then I might ask myself who is the Samaritan woman that Jesus would have me offer the living water?

What do I think this Samaritan woman teaches us? I think she teaches us that the planet is really quite small.

Those who have ears; let them hear.

Scripture Sisters: Martha and Mary

Luke 10:38-42

January 24, 2010

We’ve been visiting some Bible stories about women this month to spice up the post-Christmas season. In case you’ve missed any of it and want to see what we’ve said about Lot’s Wife, Ruth, and Esther, they are all here on my blog.

Today our subject moves from the figurative “sisterhood” we’ve had as our subject matter, and goes to a pair of literal sisters. At least they are called that. Judging from the story in Luke, and also in John, to call them sisters may be stretching the point. I like what Maya Angelou says:

‘I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.’

So whether Martha and Mary are sisters according to this definition, I’ll leave for someone else to decide. The fact is they did apparently share parentage, and lived in the same house. We don’t really know if they worked at sisterhood or not.

So on to our story…

Modern readers often regard Martha as a "homemaker" type of woman, concerned with household details. Some also view her as hospitable, a highly esteemed practice in Jesus' day. Mary often is seen as a more scholarly or spiritual woman, with a feminist personality. She sat at Jesus' feet, a scene that has portrayed by painters such as Tintoretto, and as was the custom of the day that means that she was his student or disciple.

Let’s start with Martha. I think you know this woman.

Johannes Vermeer has painted Martha as the perfect hostess, serving Jesus.

She’s the first century equivalent of another “Martha” of whom you have heard.

When Martha and Mary were growing up, Martha was her parents’ shining star.

They loved how she helped out around the house, and she was praised often for it. She took to cooking like a fish to water.

She didn’t mind the housework, because, frankly, the attention she got was far more than Mary ever got.

Not only that, but in this first century Palestinian culture, the primary goal for young girls – like it or not – was to snag a man who would take her as his wife, promising her a future of security. All she had to do was be a good wife and she wouldn’t have to worry about having a roof over her head.

So when Jesus arrived, she had swept the house, baked bread for the table, lit a fire under the kettle, and had something cooking that filled the house with a pleasing aroma.

Notice how Luke tells us she greets Jesus at the door of her home (note – “her” home). In a culture that put a premium on hospitality, Martha was simply the “hostess with the most-ess”. She was surely on her way to a secure life in this world and the next.

Mary is a different story. Probably younger than Martha, while Mary was growing up her head was filled with ideas; she listened to the conversations of the men no doubt, often to the dismay of her older sister who wondered why she wouldn’t help out, and worse, wondered if she was going to get them both in trouble for her behavior.

At the same time I’m guessing that Martha may have envied her younger sibling, wondering how come she – Martha – never got to just relax at the feet of Jesus. Put that alongside the normal sibling rivalry that exists in every household with more than one child, and you get an older sister who was following the script, causing no trouble for anyone, and a younger sister who was at the beach with her friends, carefree and may have been labeled just a tad lazy. In terms of eternal life, her culture would have put their money on her sister Martha, not Mary. There were young men with egos strong enough to go one-on-one with a female scholar. Jesus certainly was that – but why would any young woman want to risk competition, if there was no real need to compete as a scholar in that culture?

Before we go off the deep end with this stereotyping, it’s worth mentioning that in The Women’s Bible Commentary Jane Schaberg tells us that Mary’s academic tendencies were not really all that radical, and Jesus’ behavior toward her wasn’t all that risky –because in fact there is research that indicates women could be students and disciples in that day learning the Torah alongside their brothers and fathers at least while they were young. And remember, in this story, it’s safe to picture Martha and Mary as either adolescents, or young adults in their twenties. Martha is old enough in Luke’s telling of the story that she is the head of the house, and we don’t know anything of their parents.

¹Jane Schaberg, "Luke" The Women's Bible Commentary, ed. Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Ringe, (Louisville: John Knox/Westminster Press, 1992), p. 289.

That said, it is still obvious that these sisters were near opposites and opens the door to speculating about Mary; in any event she was apparently more at home with the Torah than the teapot. Can you say “feminist”?

The bottom line of Luke is this: Jesus gently rebukes Martha for being "worried and distracted" by her many tasks and her resentment of Mary's behavior. Jesus tells her that she has lost her focus; she needs only one thing. And what is that one thing?

Let’s hold off on the answer for a few moments.

There is something else to consider as well, and that is that this story from Luke is only one version of the lives of Martha and Mary.

While Luke has the more popular version, there is a story in the gospel of John about these two sisters, and to muddy the water a little, let’s look at John’s story for just a moment.

The first difference you notice is that John starts his story as if it is about Lazarus – “a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany” and then adds “the village of Mary, and her sister Martha.” John has already signaled his bias about the sisters, putting the finishing touches on his thought by giving Mary a tagline: “Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair.”

Don’t you just love the way the gospels have these subtle nuances?

John then tells us the sisters send for Jesus, but he doesn’t come right away, and Lazarus dies. By the time Jesus arrives in Bethany, Lazarus has been dead four days.

Martha comes running to meet Jesus, but notice that she is an assertive, well-spoken woman with deep faith. After complaining about his tardiness, Martha affirms her belief that even now God will do anything Jesus asks. Jesus says to Martha, “Do you believe I am the resurrection and the life?” Martha says “Yes, I do.” Meanwhile, as they are talking, Mary stays at home.

Now it gets interesting. Martha then runs back to the house and fetches Mary, telling her privately that Jesus is asking for her.

Where did that come from? I read John chapter 11 back and forth, and Jesus didn’t say that in the story, but John puts the words in Martha’s mouth. Was this John’s way of adding something that favors the relationship between Jesus and Mary? Or was it Martha’s way of including Mary? Did Martha want Mary to become the student and disciple here? In other words, was Martha saying to Mary, “I can’t figure him out; maybe you can. So go, greet him and see what he plans to do.”

So now what?

As we’ve been asking all along with regard to the women in our series, ‘what do we learn from their stories about God, and about God’s relationship to us?’

Lets first say this: there is nothing in either version of the gospels to suggest that Mary had the better path to faith. When it came to their faithfulness, Martha’s personality appears to be more suited to “doing”, and Mary’s personality more toward “being.” So be it. In faith, those are two sides of the same coin. So, (and if you Mary’s have been wondering what to do with the insert inside the bulletin, here’s where you can write in: In faith, Martha and Mary were equals.

Some of you have been resonating with Martha’s personality. She is your patron saint. You are first in line when an appeal is made. When help is needed, you sign up – it doesn’t matter what the occasion is. You don’t care so much for meetings; in fact your secret thought is that they are a waste of time. You may pray formally and read the Bible on occasion because, well, those practices are pretty important pieces of anybody’s faith journey. But study and prayer are not your favorite forms of spiritual growth. You are more likely to pursue acts of compassion and mercy that require hands-on ministry. Your gifts are employed in service, projects often requiring physical effort. You are completely happy at letting others plan worship, write policies, discuss how the budget lines up with priorities, and so forth. You are essential in the life of the congregation that believes in good works as an expression of faith. What’s more, and here is where you Mary’s can fill in the blank on your bulletin insert, Number 2: you share a gift for faith in service

Some of you have been resonating with Mary. You love the cognitive form of learning. When you see the words “Bible study” or prayer group, you start salivating. You love to bisect the bible, or hear it done; the characters of the Old and New Testaments are more like companions to you than historical figures. You want to know their personalities as much as their deeds. When it comes to prayer, you are dead serious in practice, moving through your daily routines with a constant awareness of being connected to God. You sometimes count your breaths per minute as prayers, and you secretly wonder how some people get through the day without pausing, reflecting, perhaps closing their eyes and breathing deeply. When it’s your turn to serve in the church or outside, you faithfully fulfill your obligation as a devoted disciple, all the while quietly retreating to whatever place in your mind that you call your sanctuary. Your gifts are employed in leading prayer, teaching others about faith, attendance in worship and holding up others in prayer. Meetings to you are an opportunity for spiritual growth as you connect with God and others through discernment, conferencing and dialogue. I know you’ve been waiting with baited breath for this, so in the blanks for sentence number 3 on your insert please write that Mary is the model of faith “through knowing.”

As some of you are already thinking, the truth of the matter is that none of us are totally like Martha, or totally like Mary. We are probably one of them some of the time, but never one of them all of the time.

But each of us who wants to grow our spirituality is probably prone to one or the other personalities. Unless we are a tiny fraction of the population, we are not balanced perfectly in the middle; we favor one or the other.

And yet, Jesus told Martha that her sister Mary had chosen the better part. So, back to that question – what did he mean?

The answer is more clear in Luke than in John, and it’s because of the setting that Luke has painted in the verses that come before this story.

Perhaps you recognize the story of the Good Samaritan, which precedes this one in Luke’s Gospel. It begins with a question from a lawyer who wanted to know, in legalistic terms, the way to inherit eternal life. When Jesus replied to just keep the commandments – you know what they are – love God and love your neighbor – then you’ve done what is necessary.

The lawyer had Martha’s genes, and wanted to be certain he had done everything, so he pushed – “but, in legal terms,” he asks, “how do you define “neighbor?”

Jesus answers the way he often did, with a story, the point of which was that somebody who nobody thought deserved a place in heaven was an example of a neighbor. The disciple in the story was not the lawyer, but the Samaritan.

Mary’s ‘better part’ was that she had no limits on discipleship.

Martha needs to focus on loving God and her neighbor as herself – in other words – to be a disciple of Jesus. To do this one thing is to choose the better part, to be at peace with her unique version of discipleship. Peace in Christ isn’t found in one or the other, but in loving God and neighbor with whatever tools we have been given.

Like the Good Samaritan, Mary saw no barriers to discipleship.

Martha and Mary are both models of faith; they illustrate how people can live as servants of God; but Mary shows how to live without being confined by culture or gender, to embrace the promise and the possibility of life that is available through Jesus Christ.

Peace of heart and mind and soul; that’s the better part.

Esther: Not Your Trophy Kind of Queen

Read Esther 7:1-10; and 9:20-22

If you have just joined us, we are spending these weeks after Christmas delving into the lives of some women characters of the Bible. We got to this place by having the Worship Design Team ask you for your favorite Bible stories, and then seeing a pattern emerge, choosing to focus them all on women. We started with an unnamed woman – Lot’s wife – and learned that there is a time for not looking back because it can be dangerous. Then last week, we retold the story of Ruth, the Moabite woman who stayed with her Hebrew mother-in-law Naomi when they were both widowed; returned to Bethlehem where she found favor with a noble leader named Boaz, married him, gave birth to Obed, who was the father of Jesse, who was the father of David, shepherd/king from Bethlehem.

Today our story is about Esther.

A story…

Back when I was about 30, I had a pastor friend who along with me was involved in youth ministry. But he messed up. I guess he thought he could get away with it, because things went along fine for him until a youth council weekend retreat where he was supposed to stay overnight with the youth, but he left with someone he wasn’t supposed to leave with. He let the kids down. What was worse, some of the kids were starting to figure out that he was messing up. Encouraging him to stop didn’t work, so to make a long story short, I blew the whistle. It was an agonizing decision to report him; but there were higher principles at stake – there were young, trusting teenagers whose feelings would be crushed. I couldn’t let it continue.

Homiletics magazine reminds us that in the December 2002 issue of Time Magazine, three women were celebrated as Persons of the Year. They were deemed "whistleblowers" by Time. You may remember their names: Cynthia Cooper of WorldCom, Colleen Rowley of the FBI, and Sherron Watkins of Enron. Their pictures appeared on the cover of the December 22, 2002 cover of Time Magazine, which chose these three as Persons of the Year for 2002. Each of these courageous women had circumstances not unlike Esther. They were in positions of authority, though not at the top. Each of them saw wrongdoing and reported it to a superior. Each of them risked safety, humiliation and career in speaking truth to power. They were heroes; each, a modern-day Esther; whistleblowers in our time.

Have you ever been there? Ever been in a position when you saw a wrong being done, and had the opportunity to stop it? Maybe not the same level as these women, but I’ll bet some of you know this experience first-hand. It’s not fun to bet there, is it? If you didn’t step up and put a stop to it, I’m guessing that you wanted to; you know what I’m talking about.

When we do manage to muster the courage, we take a deep breath and blow the whistle, not so much so we’ll feel better, but because it’s right.

Our Bible has a story about a whistle-blower. Her name was Esther.

When you look in the Bible for the book of Esther, you find it right after the Book of Nehemiah, and that’s important. Nehemiah’s book is about the rebuilding of Jerusalem when the Jews returned after the exile in Babylon. But not all the Jews returned. They had made lives for themselves in Babylon-now-Persia, and felt they had nothing pulling them back to Jerusalem. Esther’s story concerns Jews who remained in the Persian Empire after the exile was over. She was orphaned at an early age so her older cousin Mordecai adopted her and raised her as his daughter.

In 486 B.C., a king named Ahasuerus came to the Persian throne. He had a volatile temperament, not given to forethought. Some years into his reign, he banished his Queen Vashti because she wouldn’t parade her beauty in front of his friends. She embarrassed him. Vashti gets my vote for Woman of the Century, 500-400 B.C. Anyway, the king couldn’t stand to be without a trophy to show off, so he held his own private beauty contest involving all the young women of the kingdom. Esther won the contest and he made her the new queen. She was Jewish, but neither Ahasuerus nor anyone in the royal court was aware of it.
Some time after Esther was made queen, her cousin Mordecai overheard a plot to kill the king. He sent a warning to Esther, who, in the name of Mordecai, warned the king. The plotters were executed and the king was saved.
Meanwhile, there was a man, high up in the king’s court, a devious man, named Haman. He liked to win the favor of wealthy and powerful people by flattering them. Haman hated Mordecai, mainly because Mordecai could see through his pompousness. So Haman calculated a plot against Mordecai. He persuaded the king to issue a death edict against “a certain people” living in the empire. Haman did not tell the king the targets were Jews, and the king didn’t bother to ask. So the king said, “Okay Haman. Do your thing.”

When Mordecai learned about Haman’s plan, he asked Esther to intervene with the king. What followed was an intricate and careful plan to approach to the king, which was quite risky for Esther, because she was in effect functioning as a whistleblower and having to do so in the face of the king’s own edict.
But she did it. She hosted a banquet for the king, with Haman as a special guest, and then proceeded to point out that he was scheming behind the king’s back to kill all the Jews in the empire.
She was successful, however, and in the end, Haman was hanged on the very gallows on which he had planned to execute Mordecai. And though the original edict couldn’t be withdrawn, the king issued a second edict that permitted the Jews to defend themselves.
As a result, the Jews were saved. This whole story and the good outcome are celebrated to this day in Judaism in an annual festival called Purim.

This is a tale of long ago, but we can gain something for ourselves out of it by considering Esther’s role in this drama.
Being married to the king, she’s an insider in the empire’s government, but she has no obvious power and influence. Although she is the queen, in Ahasuerus’ world, that didn’t mean very much. And their marriage is nothing like the union of equals that marriage should be today.

Being the queen simply means that she’s the first among the women in the king’s harem. She’s the one with the most clothes and shoes in her closet. She’s the one who’s trotted out when the king wants to impress visiting dignitaries with the beauty of the women at his disposal. The biblical account says that Ahasuerus actually loved her (2:17), but his love did not grant her any special rights. Women had no role in governmental affairs in the Persian Empire. They were trophies, expected simply to keep the men happy.

Esther herself is a person of great goodness, but that doesn’t become obvious until the king’s edict puts all of her people under threat, and she takes the extraordinary step of blowing the whistle on a plot in which her powerful husband was complicit. By considering her actions, however, we can learn some things about the nature of goodness, and see how the goodness of God shows up in Esther. If we do that, we may be able to see the goodness of God at work in our own time and place.

First, Esther shows us that goodness is courageous, but not in the superhero mode.
Once Mordecai informed Esther of Haman’s plot against the Jews, the immediate problem was how to get an audience with the king. The empire operated on protocols, and by those protocols, the queen was not supposed to ever approach the king unless he summoned her, and he had not done so for a month. He held her life in his hands. If she violated the protocols, and the king was so inclined, he could have her executed. Esther pointed all this out to Mordecai, but he urged her to proceed anyway; there was just too much at stake for Esther not to make the attempt. And so she finally agreed, saying, “I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish” (4:16). That, I think, is the whistleblower’s declaration. It is not a chest-thumping, “I’ll save the day!” exclamation, but a quiet, perhaps even fear-filled resolve to do the right thing despite the probable cost.

Second, Esther shows us that goodness is rooted in prayer. Though she has resolved to act, she first asks her fellow Jews to join her in a three-day fast, a means of seeking God’s help and blessing.

Third, goodness does not seek martyrdom — it does not needlessly provoke violence. It does not throw life away when there is any other possibility. Wisely, when Esther told the king her request, she first mentioned the sparing of her own life, and then added the sparing of her people. She named herself first, not out of self-interest, but because she knew that saving her would be more important to the king, and the rest of her people could ride to safety on the tails of her royal gown.

Fourth, goodness is oriented toward others. Esther herself was in no immediate danger. If her goal had merely been to save herself, all she had to do was keep her mouth shut, as nobody in the court knew she was Jewish. Mordecai had told her that once the purge began, even she would not be safe (4:13), but when she chose to act, it wasn’t her own hide she was thinking of saving. Mordecai had painted the larger picture: “Who knows?” he had said, “Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this” (4:14). Mordecai was suggesting that God had strategically enabled Esther to become queen for the good of the others, and that was her main goal.

Goodness is a powerful force, but it often operates through those who seem to have little power, through ordinary people who seemingly are not in positions of great influence, people who see something they know will harm others, and they act or blow the whistle for the good of all. It can be a way of loving our neighbor.
On this Sunday every year, the day before the observance of Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, the United Methodist Church observes Human Relations Day. Martin Luther King, Jr., said, “Life’s most persistent and urgent question is: What are you doing for others?” Human Relations Day calls upon all United Methodists to do something for others, by furthering the development of race relations. Most people don’t run for this position. It is hard work; risky. It may involve challenging injustice where we find it. It may involve using our position in a way we never dreamed we would need to. It’s the same question that Mordecai implied when he said to his cousin Esther, “Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” In a world increasingly dominated by unapologetic selfishness, the idea of doing things for others may seem quaint and outdated. Yet, for those who have a grand vision of their purpose and value, striving to be of service is not only a noble thing to do; it’s the best way to lead a truly fulfilling and significant life.

Perhaps in our time we have seen a modern day Esther named Rosa Parks.

Rosa Parks never intended to start a civil rights revolution. That’s not why the black seamstress refused to give up her seat to a white man. She always insisted that her feet were tired and she just didn’t want to walk another step.
Like Esther, Rosa didn’t set out to be a hero. She was just weary at the end of the day, her feet tired from standing. She just wanted to sit in the nearest seat. She never thought she was doing anything special. But, she must have known that her refusal to move to the back of the bus would have consequences. Her simple, but courageous, act of civil disobedience sparked the Montgomery bus boycott and captured the attention of the nation. She blew the whistle on the humiliation and cruelty of the segregation laws of the time.
God calls us to holiness, and doing good through whatever circumstances present themselves to us is a way to be holy.

What is God calling you to do with your life?

Here’s the prescription for an answer:

· Does it require courage?

· Has you prayed about it?

· Are you seeking to be a martyr?

· Is it oriented toward others?

Perhaps you have come…for just such a time as this. Is it your time?