The Old Stone House

Sermon text for September 30, 2007:
Luke 13:22-30

The old stone house stood at the edge of the woods, where the new highway crossed the country lane. Almost everyone who passed by noticed the house because of its unique design and careful construction. The old woman who lived there busied herself keeping the house in good condition, tending her flower garden and visiting with friends. Everyday when the old woman finished her chores she sat in her rocking chair on the front porch and smiled and waved to the people who whizzed by in cars on the new highway.

Often as she watched the people speeding by the old woman thought to herself, “The people on the highway seem frantic to get wherever they are going. I hope that they get there. Maybe if they see me waving, the day will seem a little less frantic.” Sometimes she would sigh and say to herself, “I wish that some of them would stop by for a chat. I’d love to get to know them better.” But most of the motorists were much too busy and the faster they drove, the longer it took them to get where they were going.

It wasn’t that the old woman was lonely, she had a lot of good friends, but she was never happier than when her house was full and people were having a good time. In time, more and more people noticed the old woman and many began to return the woman’s wave as they rushed by. For many it became a ritual. People looked for the woman and waved, and the woman waved back. Many of the motorists even began to think of the old woman as a friend, but only rarely did anyone stop.

Every now and again someone walking on the country lane would pause, lean on the low stone wall that surrounded her property, and call to her across the yard. Sometimes they would join her on the porch for refreshments, but more often they would chat from a distance. Usually they went away from these encounters feeling special, and they resolved to come back again for another talk. Everyone who stopped long enough, knew that there was a standing invitation to join the old woman on the porch for conversation and refreshment. She had a comfortable swing hanging from the ceiling and guests would often swing gently while they and the old woman rocked and talked. Everyone who took the time to sit with the old woman said they’d like to come back again. But in truth most didn’t make it very often. Life was always hectic, there was too much to do, and so little time in which to do it. So for the most part, the woman rocked alone.

Years passed, and stories were told far and wide of the old woman with the inviting smile, and the friendly wave. Even people who had never been past her house told stories of the kindly woman who even invited strangers to rest on her porch, to swing and to talk. Many people who heard the stories felt great affection for the old woman whom they had never met. Some tried to imagine what she was like.

One day the people walking on the path noticed that the woman was not in her usual spot on the porch. The swing was gone, the rocking chair was empty. Those who had grown accustomed to waving at the woman or leaning on the low stone wall for conversation missed her. Eventually some of them found the gate in the wall and went to the house looking for her. They hoped to see her one last time. To their surprise as they approached the house they heard the most beautiful music imaginable coming from somewhere inside. It was wonderful, enticing music which mingled with the joyous sounds of laughter and merriment. Listening on the porch they remembered all of the times they said, “Someday I’m going to stop and get to know that wonderful woman.” Now they had to know the woman with the inviting smile and the friendly wave. They knocked on the door and pressed their noses against the windows. Inside the house they saw lots of people like themselves. But no one opened the door to let them in.

Finally the woman with the inviting smile opened the little window in the door. She looked at the people crowding on her porch and spilling out into the front yard. “Can we come in to the party?” they asked. “I’m sorry” said the woman, still smiling, “This party is just for my friends.”

“But we are your friends” they said feeling a little sense of desperation. “Don’t you remember how we waved when we drove by? Don’t you remember when we used to lean on the wall and talk while you were up her on the porch? We always thought we were friends.”

“I’m sorry” said the woman, “but we don’t really know each other do we?”
As Jesus was making his final journey into Jerusalem, he traveled through many towns and villages teaching, healing, and caring for the people. One day someone in the crowd asked, “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” This was a key question on many peoples’ minds. They wanted assurance and Jesus could have made them very happy by simply saying what everyone wanted to believe. “You know the answer, all of us who are children of Abraham will be saved.” But he did not do that. He knew that some of the people in the crowd were complacent about their faith. They took their relationship with God for granted. To them God was always there, always smiling, always benevolent. They attended to their rituals, acknowledged God’s presence, and sought God’s favor. What more could there be?

But Jesus was never satisfied with faith by the numbers. And he told the parable we read this morning to create a sense of urgency within those with the courage to listen to the message. He refused to guarantee that all Jews would be saved, even those he had just healed. He understood that when believers were given complete assurance only the most motivated would continue to grow. And so he said, “If you want salvation, work on it. Strive to enter by the narrow door, and get there before the door is shut.”

This is one of those passages that I wish was not there. It frightens some and offends others. But it also challenges us to be honest about our friendship with Jesus. In the parable, Jesus says that people will be shocked when the doors are shut and they are left outside. They are shocked because they have not been honest with themselves. They even try to hide their dishonesty as they protest, “We ate with you and you taught in our streets.” But their protest is a cover-up. Being near when bread is broken or when the word is preached does not imply a relationship. And so Jesus confirms their worst fear when he says, “But we are not really friends are we.”

Friends let us seek that narrow door, let us take the time to stop at God’s house, sit on the porch, swing on the swing, and get to know God so that we can be counted among the friends of God when the party begins.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

It's Only a Test

Sermon text for September 23, 2007:
Luke 16:1-31

A rich man was in agony and those around him were likewise tormented. As he surveyed his situation he became more and more anxious. His insides felt empty, and the heat, the awful heat! It was almost more than he could bear. His situation was made even more desperate by a heavenly vision of comfort and serenity. He began to panic when he realized that he was in Hades, and there was no way out.

“Why me God?”, he wondered. “I lived a good life and always tried to do my best. I never hurt anyone, and I was faithful in my prayers. I loved you God and I thought you loved me too. You certainly filled my life with many blessings. I had a good business, a nice family, and a beautiful home. Everybody said I set one of the nicest tables in all of Israel. I thought that being so blessed meant that you were on my side. So why am I here being tormented?”

From the details that Jesus gave us in the story, the rich man has a right to question his fate. Nowhere are we told that he was dishonest, or that his wealth was ill-gotten gain. The only negative thing that we can say about him is that his wealth created a blind spot so that he couldn’t see the poor man at his gate.

Then again, maybe he did see him, but thought that Lazarus ought to get a job, or join the other poor folks gleaning in the fields. Maybe he just didn’t believe that anyone had any claim on what was his. But mostly I think he just didn’t see. He had a blind spot.

Jesus told this story to go side-by-side with the parable of the dishonest steward that we also find in Luke 16. The parable of the dishonest steward is one of the most difficult passages in the Bible to interpret, but thankfully Jesus tells us what it means. He says that the way we use money determines the kinds of spiritual gifts we receive in this life. And he says that we can invest money and other resources in the Kingdom of God now, to assure a place in God’s heavenly home.

This is something that the rich man in the parable didn’t know and hearing it may cause us to bristle. We believe that eternal life is God’s free gift to us. And that of course is true. But the way we use our money and other resources is a true test of the depth of our faith, and therefore determines whether or not we receive what Jesus calls “true riches”.

The Bible says that when the pharisees heard the parable of the dishonest steward, they “ridiculed Jesus” because they were lovers of money. They didn’t want to believe that money was a test. They wanted to believe that their wealth was a sign of God’s blessing, no more and no less. So Jesus told the parable of Lazarus and the rich man to help them understand that wealth can cause blind spots and that what we do with what we have has consequences.

You and I need to listen to Jesus when he teaches about wealth, precisely because it makes many of us uncomfortable. I’ve found that the place of my discomfort is usually where I need to grow. So when a teaching makes me uncomfortable, I know that if I want to mature in faith, I need to pay attention.

Jesus tells the story of two men, one who is incredibly rich and another who is incredibly poor. We know nothing about either man’s character, only that one feasts “sumptuously” while the other goes hungry. One dies and goes into the bosom of Abraham, and Jewish idea of heaven, while the other goes to a place of eternal torment. The only clue we have as to why the rich man went to the place of torment is that he apparently did not share with Lazarus. His wealth left him with a blind spot.

This passage and others like it gave me a new idea. It occurred to me that perhaps wealth is not a blessing, but rather a test (okay, hear me out on this). If I am right, then wealth is morally neutral, but how we use it determines how faithful we are, and if we pass the test. Jesus wants us to believe that the rich man failed the test that God put before him because he did not use his wealth compassionately.

This is the kind of message that you and I can easily ignore. We may like the idea that our wealth is morally neutral, while refusing to consider the idea that God uses wealth as a test of our faithfulness. The first part of the test is the tithe - ten percent of our income. The average Presbyterian gives right around 2%, so right now many of us are not getting a passing grade. Our only defense is to pretend that God didn’t mean what the Bible says.

Some years ago my family was in Washington D.C. and we took part in a real life reproduction of the parable of Lazarus and the rich man. We were about to go into a fast food restaurant when a dirty man in tattered clothes begged for whatever change I could afford to give. I walked right past him, careful not to make eye contact. I did not trust him and in truth I was a little bit afraid. We got our meals and were about to sit down when we saw that same man in line at the check stand. Someone else invited him in and paid for his meal. I felt ashamed because I had clearly flunked the test of compassion.

My prayer for you is that you will meditate on the parable of Lazarus and the rich man – that you will ask God where your blind spots are. And seeing them, you will ask God to help you see the invisible people whom God loves.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Spirit of the Lord is Upon Me

Sermon text for September 16, 2007:
Luke 4:16-21

My friends were seated on the stone bench that ran around the perimeter of the room. Some were talking quietly, some sat in a meditative silence, and some were watching me and wondering what in the world I was doing. I can’t blame them because I was walking slowly and deliberately, being careful to step on each of the slate gray tiles on the floor. And as I walked I recited the Bible verses that had captured my heart many years before. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me.” I paused for a moment. The words echoed from somewhere deep inside me and I took another step. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.”

For a while I stood on the dark gray tile without moving. “To proclaim release to the captives.” For a moment I almost thought I heard the voice of Jesus. I knew that in all likelihood I was standing on the very floor on which Jesus stood when he read to his friends from the Prophet Isaiah. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to proclaim … recovery of sight to the blind and set at liberty those who are oppressed.”

I moved very slowly that day in Nazareth. I felt compelled to stand on each individual tile that made up the floor in what is now called the Synagogue Church. While archaeologists can’t be certain that this is the synagogue in which Jesus was raised, they do know that the floor is a first century floor and Nazareth was a small backwater village which would have had only one synagogue. So, in all probability, I was standing on the floor of the synagogue where Jesus was raised and the place where he preached the sermon we read in Luke 4.

This passage captured my imagination very early in my ministry, so that day in the Synagogue Church in Nazareth, I took special care to stand on each tile on the floor. It is hard to explain, but I believe that part of me was searching for a connection to Jesus.

Perhaps our gospel lesson can provide us with that connection. In this passage we hear from Jesus’ own lips his reason for being. Today we would call our gospel lesson his mission statement. The words are concrete, in the present tense, and we either believe them or we don’t.

Listen again to Jesus’ mission statement. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me BECAUSE He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor; to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind; to set at liberty those who are oppressed and to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.” After reading from Isaiah, Jesus sat down to preach and this is what he said. “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Jesus believed that something concrete happened as he read. The prophesy is fulfilled.

The passage that Jesus read from is found in parts of Isaiah 58 and 61, and he clearly identifies with the prophesy. Let’s look again. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me BECAUSE ….” We know that the Spirit of God is upon Jesus because the stories of his baptism have told us. Each gospel writer, in his own way, lets us know that when Jesus was baptized, the “Spirit of the Lord” came down from heaven in the form of a dove and rested on him.

And in this passage Jesus acknowledges the gift of the Holy Spirit. God’s Spirit is upon him … BECAUSE! God gave Jesus a mission. His mission in life is to preach good news to the poor; release to the captives; recovery of sight to the blind; and to set at liberty those who are oppressed. Luke defines Jesus’ mission at the beginning of the Gospel and then the next twenty chapters tell us how Jesus accomplished his mission.

In the last few years a lot has been written about mission statements. Some writers try to convince us of the importance of mission statements while others coach us on how to write them. A mission statement defines what we want to accomplish, and motivates us to keep moving and changing.

Last Sunday the session voted on a mission statement. They said, we want:
•“To become a unified community of diverse persons who are discovering God’s love … revealed in Jesus Christ.
•“To support one another in the challenge to be genuinely human in seeking God’s will for our lives and in the risks of entrusting ourselves to God.
•“To be empowered through worship, prayer and Bible study to grow and to serve others.”

This mission statement needs to be published everywhere – in the bulletin each week and on the masthead of the newsletter. It needs to be written so large that seeing it is unavoidable! It should create tension between where you are now and where you want to be.

You and I should have our own personal mission statements as well. It is a good idea to write them down and place them conspicuously in our homes so that they are impossible to miss. Your mission statement can say anything you want it to say, but perhaps because we are people of faith, part of it might read: “I attend church each week; read the Bible all the way through every two years; take part in Christian Education and fellowship activities so that I continue to grow in faith.”

I have a challenge for you. As you think about the church’s mission statement, begin the way Jesus did. “The Spirit of the Lord is upon us BECAUSE we are a unified community, support one another in the challenge to become genuinely human, and BECAUSE we are empowered through worship and prayer to serve others.”

When you write your personal mission statement, begin the same way: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me BECAUSE he has anointed me ….” Do not be afraid to claim God’s anointing! When you were baptized, God called you by name and claimed you as a part of the family. In baptism, God empowers us by the Holy Spirit with all of the power we need to accomplish the work God gives us to do. So now I have some homework for you.

When you go home, look in the mirror and say, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me BECAUSE …”, and try to finish the statement. If you live with someone you love, hold hands and look into each other’s eyes and affirm, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me BECAUSE.”

If we are at a time in life when it’s hard to believe that God has a mission for us, then try this: Go home and at least once a day look into the mirror and repeat, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me BECAUSE …” and one day, like Jesus, you will know the end of the sentence.

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock

The Cost of Discipleship

Sermon text for September 9, 2007:
Luke 14:25-33

He sat in the courtroom looking as if through a fog at his wife of five years. He was at one table with his attorney, and she, a few feet away, with her attorney. It all seemed unreal, like a terrible nightmare from which he would awake at any moment. He heard the lawyers talking about something, but the sound was like the drone of a distant airplane. Nothing made any sense any more.

Five years ago, when the said their vows in front of the minister and started their life together, marriage seemed like a lark. Surely they would beat the odds and have a happy life and grow old together. In marriage their love would be expressed in complete freedom and it seemed a foregone conclusion that they would be happy.

After the initial period of excitement, their relationship settled into a routine. They would not have called it boring, but they found themselves doing the same things day in and day out. Each of them focused a lot of energy on careers and they were tired when evening came. He would often spend all evening from after dinner until bedtime surfing the Internet, and she, more often than not, curled up on the couch and read or watched television. Neither noticed when their relationship began slipping away from benign neglect. Neither understood that a good relationship came at a cost, that each needed to invest time and energy in each other.

In those happy moments immediately after their wedding, neither would have understood the idea that continued happiness came at a cost. They simply enjoyed being together and surely that was enough. And now it was over, not because either had done something terrible, but because neither had paid the price for staying together.

We often forget that everything costs us something. We even like to say that “the best things in life are free”. But the saying is not true. Our relationship with God and with others comes at a price and sometimes the price is too high.

Jesus wants those who follow him to count the cost of discipleship, to look at the price tag. In our gospel lesson we see that Jesus has attracted a large crowd of traveling companions. They see in Jesus someone who is very attractive, someone with whom they want to be in a relationship, but they have no idea how much that relationship is going to cost.

In this lesson, Jesus shows them the price of being in relationship with him, and the price tag is shocking. He says, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sister, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple.”

We can make discipleship seem a little less costly when we understand that the word, “hate”, in this context is not referring to being filled with negative emotions toward our loved ones. Even so the price is still very high. When Jesus calls us to “hate”, he is asking us to detach from others so that we can attach to him.

For those of us whose lives revolve around family and friends, work or school, the call is to detach emotionally so that we can attach ourselves to Jesus. Jesus does not ask us to walk away from loved ones, but to move them out of the center of our lives so that he can occupy that space.

I have a fantasy that many of us who eagerly started a relationship with Jesus sometimes find ourselves in family court getting a divorce. It is not that we love him less or that we have lost our faith, it’s just that we never considered the cost of discipleship before we got started. According to today’s lesson being a disciple of Jesus is very expensive.

I wonder how many of us were told the price of being in a relationship with Jesus when we were being evangelized. Probably few of us have ever considered how expensive discipleship is. Yet Jesus indicates to the crowd that there are some obvious questions which thinking people ought to ask before we commit to discipleship. He illustrates the need to ask questions by telling two mini-parables: “Who among you decides to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost?” The answer to this rhetorical question is “no one.” It would be too embarrassing to get started and to then discover the job can’t be finished because the cost was more than anticipated. He asks, “Or, what country would go to war against another without estimating what it will cost to win”? Again, the answer is no one would do that because there is too much at stake. There is too much at stake in discipleship also, and those who want to be disciples must pay attention to the cost.

Jesus says part of the price of discipleship is the rearranging of everything in our lives. He wants to be in the center so that everything else revolves around him. Those of us who value Jesus may battle for a lifetime to clear out the clutter so that we have room for him. I believe that when we are committed to making space for Jesus, he hands us a broom, while he keeps the rake, and we clean house together. But some of us refuse to clear out the clutter, because we are used to the mess we have made of our lives. And even with Jesus working side by side with us, the price of cleaning house to make Jesus the center of our lives is too high.

Jesus is looking for men and women who are tired of the clutter we have created in our lives. He is looking for people who aren’t satisfied with just hanging on or just hanging around the edges of discipleship, never being fully engaged. He is looking for people who are willing to put him first, no matter who, or what, needs to be left behind. If that’s who you are then hear this invitation. Jesus says, “Come, follow me.”

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock