Scripture Lessons: October 25-29

Readings for Wed., Oct. 25:
Micah 3:9-4:5; Luke 10:17-24

Readings for Thurs., Oct. 26:
Micah 5:1-4,10-15; Luke 10:25-37

Readings for Fri., Oct. 27:
Micah 6:1-8; Luke 10:38-42

Readings for Sat., Oct. 28:
Micah 7:1-7; Luke 11:1-13

Scripture for Sunday, Oct. 29:
Matthew 18:15-20

El Santo Niño Comes to Church

Sermon Text for Oct. 22: Deuteronomy 26:1-11

Juan Medina hurt all over. The muscles in his shoulders and back screamed out in protest as he eased himself down onto the bed. And his hands, hardened from years of working in the fields were like claws, bent so that the handle of a hoe would fit nicely in the groove between palm and fingers.

He closed his eyes and reviewed the days work in the fields, the irrigating, hoeing, stringing new fence line, and he felt proud because his sons had had worked with him all day long without complaining. They were becoming men. But Juan was even more nervous than he was proud. He was always nervous this time of year, just before harvest, so many things could go wrong. He ran a few head of beef and grew corn and alfalfa in addition to helping his wife in the kitchen garden. If they were lucky the kitchen garden would provide his family with enough food to last through the winter.

Still Juan worried, what if the harvest was not good this year? What if despite all of their efforts, the crop was not sufficient? Or the price of beef went down. Everything depended on producing enough to feed his family and then to sell some for cash money.

He knew that he had done all that he could do. His aching body was a testimony to his hard work. But he was at the mercy of things that he could not control: the weather, animals (both the four legged and the six legged kind.) Late that night Juan rolled out of bed and walked barefoot across the floor. He had to see if his children had done it this evening. He had been too tired to participate in the ritual, and now he had to see if the children had been faithful. He looked at the mantle over the fireplace and there was El Santo Niño standing in his place as if he were keeping watch over the family. And on the floor directly below where El Santo Nino stood were the children’s shoes. This night El Nino would select a pair of shoes and would walk through the fields, just as he had always done. He would keep watch in the fields, bless the work that the family had done this day, and he would join them in their labor to complete the day’s work.

Juan was moved to a feeling of deep gratitude. He and his family were in a partnership with El Nino. Together they would create the miracle of new life in the fields. And because of El Niño’s help the Medina family would have food for the coming winter. He picked the statue off of the mantle and held it close to his chest. The gratitude Juan felt at that moment was indescribable. The miracle was happening. El Nino would do for Juan’s family what they could not do for themselves.

“El Santo Niño” means “The Holy Child” in Spanish. Usually I think that the phrase refers to the baby Jesus lying in the manger. But in the story of El Santo Niño we see Jesus as a young man or older boy. He always wears a hat to protect him from the sun, and carries a staff to help him walk through the fields. Agrarian Roman Catholics in the Americas believe that El Santo Nino borrows the children’s shoes to walk through the fields at night, creating the miracle of life, finishing the work that the family put in during the day.

As Protestant, urban, twenty first century Christians we could dismiss the story as being simply charming. Or maybe as a myth of a simple, unsophisticated people. But if we listen to the story, we will hear a living prayer of a faithful people. For weeks now we have been talking about making “a miracle together” or making “a miracle happen together”. The story of El Santo Niño is a prayer of a people who believe that miracles happen when we partner with God, and allow God to take us beyond where we can go by ourselves. Maybe for us the image is of The Child completing our efforts when we are tired. Or through our investment of love and money, extending our love to people in far away lands while we sleep. When we partner together with God, miracles happen.

The writer of the Book of Deuteronomy understands the power of divine human partnership for making miracles happen. Our lesson from Deuteronomy is the story of the divine human partnership which when repeated helps the believer feel a part of the story. The ancient story begins with instructions about what the believer is supposed to say when he brings an offering to God. “When you come into the land that the Lord your God is giving you, … you shall take some of the first of all the fruit of the ground, which you harvest from the land that the Lord your God is giving you and you shall place it in a basket.”

Everything the believer has is a gift from God – the land, the harvest, everything. Since it has all come from God the commandment is for a gift of the first fruits of the harvest. The “first fruits” is the first ten percent of the harvest. God requires a gift of the first ten percent of the proceeds generated by the partnership. We get to keep ninety percent and God gets ten percent.

The story says, “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor: he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien few in number, and there he became a great nation.” He tells of the suffering in Egypt and how God saved them with power and miracles. And then he says, “And now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground that you O Lord have given me.” After reciting the story the believer presents his offering and bows to the Lord.

The farmer knows that he is the one who put in the back breaking work to ensure the harvest but he is also clear that without God’s participation, he would have nothing. When he tells the story it is his way of locating himself in the story of Salvation. “All of these things happened Lord and you saved us by your power and now here am I standing in line with Abraham and Sarah, with Moses and Joshua, and Miriam. You were in partnership with them and I with you. I offer my gift as a way of affirming my place in this great community of faith.”

I want you to leave this worship service today pondering two thoughts. The first is that by faith we participate in making a miracle happen. The miracle does not happen only because of our efforts, but because when we work faithfully, El Santo Niño, The Holy Son of God, joins us in our labors and completes our work.

The second idea is that when we give to the church it is different than giving to any other organization. When we give for the work of the Kingdom the biblical story is our story as well and we stand before God with Abraham and Moses, Sarah and Miriam, Peter, James, and John. And we declare to God, “I know your work in creation and in salvation, and by my gift I am standing with you in all that you do.”

Copyright © 2006 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Scripture Lessons: October 18-22

Readings for Wed., Oct. 18:
Hosea 13:1-3; Luke 9:1-17

Readings for Thurs., Oct. 19:
Hosea 13:4-8; Luke 9:18-27

Readings for Fri., Oct. 20:
Hosea 13:9-16; Luke 9:28-36

Readings for Sat., Oct. 21:
Hosea 14:1-9; Luke 9:37-50

Scripture for Sunday's Sermon, Oct. 22:
Deuteronomy 26:1-11

The Answer is "Blue"

Sermon Text for Oct. 15: Mark 9: 30-37

A group of seekers walked into the pastor’s study to enquire about the about the truth. The pastor was quite surprised because this almost never happens. People come into the study to tell us there is no soap in the men’s room or that the carpet in the nursery needs to be cleaned again. Sometimes someone will come in to tell us about a family problem, but it almost never happens that someone comes in and says, “Tell me about the Truth” or even “Tell me about Jesus.”

You will understand that this pastor was taken by surprise, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say. But then as if he was filled with inspiration, his thoughts became words and he began to talk about Truth. He noticed that from time to time his visitors nodded in recognition, made notes, and whispered quietly among themselves. When he had talked for a while, he paused and asked, “Which part of the Truth excites you the most?” They looked at each other as if they were deciding who should answer, and the leader said, “Blue.”

The pastor was crestfallen. Their answer was completely non-responsive. They had not understood anything. “Blue!” He repeated the word to himself for the rest of the afternoon. The answer is “Blue!”

Many years ago when I was just out of seminary, I had an experience which started out amazingly affirming but which left me dismayed. I was serving as a supply pastor for the summer, and sometime around the Fourth of July I preached a sermon on one of my favorite subjects, the separation of Church and State. I got a lot of positive feedback, so I knew I had touched at least some of the people in the church. A few days later I was visiting with the organist and she quoted parts of my sermon word for word. I couldn’t believe it! Just knowing that someone was listening that carefully was incredible affirming. I knew I had done a good job until she said, “But you didn’t really mean that did you?”

In our gospel lesson Jesus and the disciples are moving steadfastly toward Jerusalem where Jesus would fulfill his destiny. As the story begins Jesus and the disciples are alone on the road, and he takes the opportunity to tell them some horrid news. It is the third and last time Jesus would tell them essentially the same thing. He tells them that when they arrive in Jerusalem he is going to be betrayed (by one of them, because no one else could do it), arrested, tried, killed and the he will rise again. If Jesus had asked the disciples what part of this truth moved them the most, they might have answered “blue”. They are completely disconnected from the story, and didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

The disciples’ inability to grasp the truth worries me a lot. I worry that I might miss the point of the gospel also. What if Jesus’ message is delivered with complete clarity and I just don’t get it?

We know that the disciples missed the point a lot. In this story, Jesus teaches them about complete and utter defeat and their minds conjure up glorious victory. Jesus teaches them about cruel and painful death and they are actually arguing about who gets to be second in command. When they arrived in Capernaum Jesus asked the disciples what they were arguing about as they journeyed. And the bible says that they were silent, because they had argued with one another about which one of them was the greatest. And this is a subject that doesn’t interest Jesus at all.

The disciples knew that. Jesus never played games to decide who was best. He simply didn’t care. He was never interested in who was the greatest, but rather who served well. He was not interested in any form of self aggrandizement. And he was not at all interested in some hierarchy of importance among those who were about to become the church.

When Jesus asked what they had been talking about on the road, the disciples were embarrassed into silence. They knew that Jesus knew what they were talking about. He gathered the twelve around him and said, “Whoever wants to be first among you must be the last of all and the servant of all.” The only competition among God’s people is to see who serves best. But no one will ever know because followers of Jesus serve as naturally as we breathe.

Letting go of games to prove who is best is a part of our conversion process. Most of the battles in which we engage have something to do with who has the most power – who is most important. And the games begin in infancy. A toddler might grab all of the toys on the table and shut another child out, to prove who is dominant. The toddler doesn’t know it but it’s a power game.

A thirteen year old comes in looking sad and angry. An older boy has just convinced all of the other kids to go somewhere with him. It’s a power play only this time the people involved know it.

Ministers in the church have a hard time sharing our frustration and pain with one another because we don’t want to appear weak. It’s a power game.

Spouses spend their whole lives working out who gets his or her way in a given situation. It's a power game.

In the church some people always insist that their way is the right way and they are not above manipulating others to make sure that everyone else also knows how right they are. It's a power game.

It was a very important day in my life when I figured out that even on the most important issues I could still say to others, “I disagree, but how can I help you?” Or maybe, “I think this is the wrong way to go, but I will love and help you because I believe that you are a beloved child of God.” That’s when I realized that I could be a reconciler instead of a fighter. I do not have to be most dominant or important.

Jesus illustrates the point by placing a small child in the center of the circle of disciples. He took the child in his arms and said, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

In Jesus' day, no one was less important or had less power than a child. Some writers go so far as to say that a child was not even considered a person until he or she reached puberty. The idea of welcoming a child as opposed to simply tolerating him or her was strange indeed. And the idea of embracing child was even more strange. But in this living parable Jesus demonstrates the importance of those who are unimportant; the inherent value in being the one who is vulnerable. In Jesus’ world view the one who serves is more important than the one who is served. But the one who serves is oblivious to his or her importance.

If we accept what the world teaches us (like the disciples’ did) we will continue to compete to see who is most important. And our response to the gospel and this sermon might simply be, “blue”.

Copyright © 2006 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Scripture Lessons: October 11-15

Readings for Wed., Oct. 11:
Hosea 8:1-14; Luke 7:18-35

Readings for Thurs., Oct. 12:
Hosea 9:1-9; Luke 7:36-50

Readings for Fri., Oct. 13:
Hosea 9:10-17; Luke 8:1-15

Readings for Sat., Oct. 14:
Hosea 10:1-15; Luke 8:16-25

Scripture for Sunday's Sermon, Oct. 15:
Mark 9:30-37

Invisible Women and Incalculable Gifts

Sermon Text for Oct. 8: Mark 12:38-44

Everyday she walked through the Temple, un-noticed and unacknowledged. She was old, poor, homeless and alone. Like a chair or a bench the old woman was just a part of the scenery, she might as well have been invisible.

She lived in the Temple along with other invisible old women and made her living from the Temple charities. She wasn’t allowed in the inner most parts of the Temple where the men went, so she spent her days wandering around the Court of Women. It wasn’t a bad life in fact sometimes it was even fun, like the days when the “peacock-like” scribes and Pharisees came to make their offerings. They came into the Temple dressed in fine robes that almost screamed “Hey look at me. I’m so fine, so rich, so important!” The old woman had to admit they were fine looking and she wished someone would notice her. But nobody ever did. Even if they looked at her they didn’t see her.

Had they taken the time the Scribes and Pharisees would have seen a woman who was deeply faithful, who loved God, and who loved the community. They would have seen a woman who though impoverished still found a way to give and thus participate in the miracle of community life.

And that takes us to where our gospel lesson begins. Jesus and his disciples are in the Temple and like the woman they are watching the “peacock-like” scribes and Pharisees competing with one another to see who is best dressed, most faithful, and most important. They had actually turned giving into a spectator sport, and they are trying to out-give one another, and climb a little higher on the social ladder.

It must have been a grand sight – the wealthy competing with one another, looking for the approval of their friends. But no one except Jesus saw an invisible, elderly, anonymous woman drop two copper coins into one of the offering plates. By law it was the smallest amount allowed. The two copper coins that she gave that day were worth about a penny and only Jesus saw what she did. To the money counters the anonymous gift of two copper coins was worthless.

But Jesus saw a gift of almost incalculable worth. He said to his disciples, “You see that woman?” She has given more than all of them. For they all have given out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has given all the living she has.”

Jesus is amazed at the old woman’s faith and trust. She gave while not knowing where her next meal was coming from. The gifts of the rich were essential because they kept the Temple going. The Temple could not sustain itself on the gifts of even a thousand elderly women who gave two copper coins. But in God’s wonderful surprising way this anonymous, invisible, woman has become the standard for Christian life and stewardship. We who are wise might call her gift foolish, naïve, or irrational. But Jesus saw a woman who was willing to lay it all on the line and simply trust in God.

So how about you? Are you willing to make a pledge to the church that forces you to trust God to help you keep it? For many of us that is a frightening thought. Most people make a pledge that is safe and doesn’t require much faith. Most of us figure out how much it costs us to live and then we pledge a portion of what is left over.

There is something to be said for feeling safe, but we grow spiritually when we risk and ask God to help us. We grow when our pledge is of an amount that forces us into a partnership with God and says, “Lord I trust you to help me do this”. That’s the kind of faith that Jesus saw in the woman in our gospel lesson ...

Giving gifts to the church is not primarily to make sure the bills are paid, or a budget met. Gift giving in the church is about learning to trust in God and participating in the community of faith. It is about joining with God and others in making miracles happen. In our world where everything has a monetary value, gift giving is a major way of saying to ourselves, “I belong”! When we make a pledge to God, it ought to be challenging enough so that there is some uncertainty about how it will be met. A challenging pledge forces us to rely on God, and help us to grow spiritually.

Some people rebel against this idea. They desperately want to believe that money and faith have nothing to do with one another. But Jesus teaches that the depth of our faith can be measured by the way we give money away. That’s why the woman in the Temple is held up as a role model. Her gift demonstrated an amazing depth of faith.

Several years ago I served a congregation in South Central Los Angeles. Sadie at age ninety six was our oldest member. She always sat in the very back row of the sanctuary and when the offering plate was passed she always put in two quarters.

One week Sadie was not in worship so I paid a call on her to make sure she was all right. Her apartment was in the most dangerous neighborhood in the most dangerous part of Los Angeles. Gang bangers taunted me as I went inside. I remember stepping over an addict sleeping next to Sadie’s door. Inside the paint was literally peeling from the walls. Carpets and draperies smelled of mildew. It was hard just to sit there. When I was ready to leave, Sadie got her purse and gave me two quarters to pay up her pledge.

I almost refused to take them. I wanted to say something like, “Sadie, we should be giving to you, not you to us.” But then I realized that Sadie’s gift was her way of participating in the miracle of community life. Her fifty cents came out what she had to live on, not out of the abundance of what was left over. Because she gave, Sadie went without something, but her faith was strengthened. Her two quarters said, “I belong to God’s people and I participate in what God is doing.”

Now is the time to begin thinking about our gifts to the church for 2007 and I make this pledge to you. My gift to this community of faith for however long I am here will come out of the substance of my living and not out of that which is left over. For me giving is a spiritual discipline because it goes against all of my instincts for survival. But it’s my way of saying, “God I do believe. I want to join with you and the people of this church to make a miracle.”

Copyright © 2006 by Dwight R. Blackstock

Scripture Lessons: October 4-8

Readings for Wed., Oct. 4:
Hosea 3:1-5; Luke 5:27-39

Readings for Thurs., Oct. 5:
Hosea 4:1-10; Luke 6:1-11

Readings for Fri., Oct. 6:
Hosea 4:11-19; Luke 6:12-26

Readings for Sat., Oct. 7:
Hosea 5:1-7; Luke 6:27-38

Scripture for Sunday's Sermon, Oct. 8:
Mark 12:41-44

El Santo Niño comes to church. Have you seen him?

One Bread, One Body

Sermon Text for Oct. 1: John 17:6-11; Ephesians 4:1-6
World Communion Sunday is one of the most special days in the Christian year. It is on this day that we celebrate the essential unity of believers in Christ. On this day the faithful from every nation and every denomination join in celebrating the Lord’s Supper. The hymn that we will sing to close our worship speaks the sentiment of World Communion Sunday very well. It says, “One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless. And we, though many, throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord.” Today we affirm that beyond all of our differences, we are in reality one body, one family in the one Lord.

A few years ago when I was visiting Jerusalem I was in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. Roman Catholics and the various Orthodox faiths consider this cathedral one of the most holy sites in all of Christendom. They believe that the church is built over the biblical Golgotha – the site of Jesus’ crucifixion and his tomb. Under one of the altars is a boulder on which they believe the cross was placed and on which Jesus died. Not too far away is a first century tomb in which they believe that Jesus was buried.

The cathedral is very ornate and not to the liking of most protestants. Yet I was genuinely touched by the devotion of others. As I wandered around I heard the sound of chanting which grew louder and louder. It soon became apparent that a worship service was in progress, but it was a service unlike anything I had ever experienced. As I watched and listened I saw a procession of Armenian Orthodox monks processing from one altar to another, chanting and praying. One monk carried a large crucifix and another a bible, yet another a worship book. Each one was dressed in identical black robes. They wore head coverings that wrapped around their faces partially obscuring their jet black beards.

My first reaction was academic fascination. I have read many orthodox liturgies, but only rarely experienced one. I noticed the strange clothing, the strange language, and the even stranger practice of the leader bowing to kiss the various altars. But almost imperceptibly my detached, academic interest was replaced by an intense desire to join them in the procession and in singing the liturgy. They were no longer an object of dispassionate observation, but brothers in Christ.

We were separated by language, culture, liturgy, geography and more. They expressed their devotion in ways that I could never do, like kissing stones that made up the altars, that thousands of others had kissed or walked on. Yet I found something compelling, I became convinced that worship has its own language and that it speaks directly to the heart. And I felt a kinship with these strange people who also named the name of Jesus.

As I thought about all of our differences I remembered Paul’s analogy comparing the Church to the human body. Each part he says functions in a different way and each is essential for health. And I realized that even as the heart and lungs function differently, and each are essential to the body, so do Presbyterians and Orthodox worship differently, and each of us is essential to the Body.

Paul tells us in Ephesians that there “is one body and one Spirit, …One faith, one hope, one baptism, one God and father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

The different expressions of faith in Christ offer different ways of relating to different people, so all might be touched. At first glance it appears that Presbyterians and Armenian Orthodox are completely unrelated – not doing the same thing at all. Yet when we are open to one another we discover that in faith we are joined together in one body with Christ as the head.

Sometimes we forget that the Spirit of Christ binds us together. We threaten, argue, and sometimes we even separate ourselves from the rest of the Body, because we value our differences more than we value the One who calls us together. That is why I rejoice in a day like World Communion Sunday when we celebrate our oneness in Christ. When we recognize our unity in Christ we become the answer to Jesus’ prayer in John 17. In this prayer Jesus prayed that we might all be one as he and God are one. Tomorrow we might remember our differences but today we celebrate our unity within the family of Christ. Today we gather around the family table and share the family meal. It is around the table of the Lord that our differences fade away, and those things that tear us apart grow dim in the light of Jesus who has knit us together in one body.

There is indeed one bread, one body, one Lord of all. Thanks be to God!

Copyright © 2006 by Dwight R. Blackstock