Hope: Where Advent Begins

Matthew 24:36-44

November 27, 2016

Mark S. Bollwinkel

The Thanksgiving dishes are cleaned and put away.  The relatives are on their way home.  The madness of "Black Friday" and 27 shopping days left ‘til Christmas surrounds us.  We sing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" and it is if we can take a breath; all is right with the world.

And then we get this scary scripture verse for the first Sunday of Advent?!  

...if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour. 

When do we get to hear about Mary and Joseph, mangers and Magi? 

If we jumped to the gospel of Luke’s “the heavenly chorus singing to shepherds watching their flocks by night" we'd miss the point of Advent.  It is not Christmas yet…but it is coming.  

The people of Israel waited a thousand years for the Messiah to come who would restore their nation.  They would wait during the darkness of war and slavery.  They would wait in poverty and oppression.  They would watch their leaders, priest and politicians, betray every promise God had made for them.  Each generation had to prepare themselves with wild and bewildering hope against all odds for their faith to survive. 

Remember that while Jesus was on earth those closest to him, and the entire religious institution of his day, could not recognize who he really was as the Son of God.   Most were expecting a warrior Messiah to drive the Roman occupiers out of the Holy Land.  They were expecting a royal Messiah to restore justice and righteousness and care for the widow and the orphan. 

They got a Messiah, alright, born as a baby in a barn, to unwed parents, about to become political refugees.   A Messiah whose power would be unleashed by his death on a cross.

Only a few during his time on earth had eyes to see who Jesus really was beyond the expectations of their day.   Elizabeth and her wild-eyed son John the Baptizer did (Luke 1:39-45) along with Simeon and Anna, two faithful elders in the Temple (Luke 2:33-38).   Blind beggars would call out his true name (Matthew 9:27-31), but most...even his closest friends…wouldn't recognize who Jesus was until he died for them.  

And so, on the first Sunday of Advent the tradition is to hear the scary, puzzling language of apocalyptic; that radical hope in God's promised future for a better world...for a better you and me.   It's poetic and disturbing language calls us to "wake up", to pay attention, to stay awake for the future will unfold on God's terms not ours. 

In her book Through the Advent Door: Entering a Contemplative Christmas (Richardson, 2011) United Methodist minister Jan Richardson writes of these passages: 

Advent beckons us beyond the certainties that may not serve us, those sureties we have relied on that may have no substance to them at all.  Advent is a season to look at what we have fashioned our lives around...beliefs, habits, convictions, prejudices...and to see whether these leave any room for the Christ who is fond of slipping into our lives in guises we may not readily recognize. 

Bonnie and I weren’t expecting to become pregnant while working with the Methodist Church in Kenya, East Africa back in 1977.   We had been married five years.  We were living in a challenging environment.  In spite of our precautions she became pregnant indeed.   We were living on the north side of Mt. Kenya, in a town called Meru, right on the equator about 200 miles north of the capital city Nairobi.  It took 3-4 days of pain and fear, doctors and rural hospitals to figure it all out.  In desperation we traded our long-wheel based Land Rover for a colleague’s VW bug and headed south to Nairobi to a hospital and a miscarriage.   After the crisis and a surgical procedure was over the doctor told us that if we wanted to have a child, now would be a good time to try. 

That wasn’t in the plans.  We were both in graduate school and had lots more to do.  But the experience of the loss and surprise started something in us that yearned to be fulfilled.  And so we “shook hands” and nine months later our son Daniel was born at Loma Linda Hospital in Southern California.  We were on food stamps, Medi-Cal, living in a converted garage in a Christian Commune…a crazy time to have a baby…against all expectations it was the perfect time for us to have a baby.  That baby today is 38 years old, healthy and happy, engaged to a beautiful and successful young woman.  They are building an exciting life together.   

In those scary days back in Meru, Kenya, it was hard to see where God was in the midst of the crisis.   Looking back it could be easy to see God in a successful birth, a dream come true.  Such a blessing when life gives you a happy ending. 

But the point of Advent isn’t whether we get what we want or not, as if God is the dispenser of fate.  Rather, Advent waiting calls us to open our eyes and hearts to the God present and active even when outcomes are cloudy, even when the ending isn’t happy, even when things don’t turn out the way we planned. 

Maybe we are facing health concerns for ourselves or those we love that have significant consequences.  Maybe our finances are in chaos and we are not sure how to pay the bills.   Maybe we remain in the doldrums of an election cycle that has left many of us dazed and confused.     

Sometimes in life all we have to hang on to is a wild and reckless hope. 

To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness…

 What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives.   If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something.  If we remember those times and places, and there are so many, where people behaved magnificently, this gives the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.

 And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future.   The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

            (Howard Zinn, Chronicle of Higher Education, 10/24/94)

Waiting for a better future during the Dark Ages of chaos and violence, the monastic movement kept the faith alive as they copied the Bible by hand, built libraries of theology and devotionals and served the poor of their communities. 

During World War II, Muslims in North Africa, the Balkans and Europe rescued thousands of Jews from Hitler’s holocaust as an expression of their faith in a better future (Norman H. Gershman, BESA: Muslims Who Saved Jews in World War II, Syracuse University Press, 2008). 

It might be as simple as bringing clean socks for the homeless men in Salinas, or volunteering to package meals for those in disaster areas with Stop Hunger Now.   Maybe it’s a simple prayer for a stranger.  Maybe it’s turning off the news for a while and letting our hearts and minds calm down as we decorate the Christmas tree. 

Advent begins in the wild, bewildering journey of hope for a better world...hope for a better you and me.  And even in the smallest way, that is something we can act on.   

It isn’t Christmas yet but it is coming.  Amen.

Is God Interested in Religion? 

John 15:1-8 

November 20, 2016 

Mark S. Bollwinkel

            Will our children have faith?

            For many of us over the age of 50, we raised our children in the church only to find that as they became adults they drifted away.   Don’t raise your hands, but how many of our children go to church?   Bonnie and I have two wonderful sons.  They are ethical, good men both with a deep sense of spirituality but neither of whom go to church to express or experience that spirituality.  They are typical of the “spiritual not religious” generation, one of the fastest growing groups in America (Pew Religion Survey).

            When I ask “Will our children have faith?” I don’t mean will our children have religion. 

            Religion can be a good and important thing.  It certainly has been in my life.  My religious tradition has been a tool with which I have learned to love God.  I belong to a global community of like minded people who share that same tradition and vocation.   The church has meant the world to me at so many levels.  I wouldn’t be the same person I am today if it weren’t for the practice of my religion.

But religion and faith are two different things.

Human beings create religion.  It is God that inspires faith.

Remember the movie “Oh, God!”?   John Denver plays a grocery store manager who is called by God, played by George Burns, to be the next great prophet to the world.  One night in bed John Denver’s character tries to explain this to his incredulous wife.  She asks, “But you haven’t gone to seminary, you haven’t been ordained, you don’t go to church and you are not even religious.”  To which the grocery store manager replies, “That’s the funny thing about it, God says he isn’t very interested in religion.”

The terrorists who flew the airplanes into the buildings on 9/11 were religious.  War has raged in Ireland, Palestine and Southwest Asia for decades between the religious.  All manner of atrocity has been perpetuated in the name of religion.

But religion and faith are two different things.

Jesus loved his religious heritage and activity practiced his Judaism but taught us the distinction between it and faith.  To the Pharisees whose orthodox religion barred them from healing the sick or feeding the hungry on the Sabbath Jesus said, “the Sabbath was made for human beings not human beings for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27).  To the hypocrites who took pride in religious observance while blind to the needs of the poor, Jesus said, “you strain out a gnat and swallow a camel” (Matthew 23:23-25).    To the thief crucified by his side that none-the-less could recognize God in Jesus’ death while all the sneering, mocking religious leaders could not, Jesus says, “Today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:25-42).

Human beings create religion to express that which cannot be expressed, to try and understand that which can never be fully understood.  Don’t get me wrong, religion can be a wonderful thing.   Yet, at best any religion points to the eternal truth of God. It can never contain it within its limitations.

Rather faith is the dynamic, living, vital, growing relationship one can have with the Creator of the Universe, the spirit and the fire of life itself.  Faith is the open heart and mind that demands a lifestyle, not an occasional ritual (Isaiah 58:1-9, Amos 5:21-24).  Jesus wasn’t interested in creating a new religion.   Rather he invites us to faith.

Will our children have faith?

We hear about this relationship of faith in our gospel lesson this morning from John.  Jesus is speaking in metaphorical narrative suggesting he is the vine and we are the branches.   If we abide with him…when we are in relationship with him…we are connected to life and growth and blessing…the fruits of faith itself.  When we aren’t connected in this relationship we wither and die and need to be pruned; all this that we might become disciples.

How do we learn that kind of faith?  How do we build a relationship with the divine, nurtured by the spirit, learning the way and teachings of Jesus?

I was privileged to receive a wonderful education; primary, secondary, college and graduate school.  But when you come into my office you will not find my degrees and awards on the wall.  You’ll find my Willie McCovey autographed photo, lots of pieces of my pottery, but not my diplomas.  I keep them in a box in my closet in case the “credential police” ever come by.  They are very nice receipts of the time and energy invested in my formal education.  But when a person comes into a pastor’s office the relics of their degrees don’t guarantee that the clergy person has learned to be faithful.  And that is really what people are seeking.

Thirty years ago in Reno, Nevada I was getting our station wagon ready for a long awaited, well deserved family camping vacation.  I am no mechanic but I figured I could save us some money by changing the oil in my own garage.   Some gorilla must have put the oil filter on the last change because no matter what I did could not get it to budge.  I tried every tool in my box to no avail.  I ran over to the auto parts shop and bought a special tool just for such occasions.  It did not work.  Bonnie was about to come home from work.   I was supposed to have the car all loaded up and ready to go on our long awaited, well deserved family camping vacation.  

Time was running out. 

In desperation, I figured that if I drove a large screw driver through the body of the filter itself, I could then torque it off the thread of the base to which it was fused.  So, I drove the screwdriver through the filter and the body of the filter tore as I tried to turn it.  I succeeded in getting oil all over the engine and floor of the garage but failed to get it off.   Now I couldn’t even drive the car.

I was overwhelmed with frustration and shame.  Bonnie was going to blow her top.  I was a failure as a man.  I felt as if I was about to break down and cry.   I didn’t know what to do. 

Just then my son Dan, nine years old at the time, came into the garage and asked me what was going on.  I briefly explained the mess and my frustration, to which he replied, “Well, Dad, have you prayed about it?”

I was dumbfounded.  I hadn’t prayed about it at all.   I had been using God’s name quite vocally but I wouldn’t call it prayer.  That such a suggestion would come from my nine year old son stopped me cold.  After Dan left indeed I did pray for help.  As I did, it came to me to call the mechanic who occasionally worked on the car and ask what he would do in such a situation.  I got off my knees, called my friend and he patiently explained how one can tap a stuck oil filter off an engine block with a hammer and chisel over against the rim of the filter in the opposite direction of the thread.  I thanked him, went out to the car and had it off in 30 seconds. We learn faith in a variety of ways.

John Westerhoff suggests we learn faith during four main stages of our religious development.

We learn Given Faith by the example of our parents and family.  We learn this as children saying prayers at dinner or going to worship during the Holidays or being told bible stories at bedtime.

We also learn faith through a sense of belonging to a religious community.  We shape our identity by participation with and enculturation by a special group of people.  We call this Belonging Faith.

We learn faith through searching and questioning the ultimate dilemmas of life.  Teenagers and young adults read and debate and question boldly in this stage of Searching Faith.  Many of us never leave this stage.

Mature Faith is the final stage when we come to commitment and spiritual awareness.  Each and every opportunity in life becomes a chance to grow and deepen and expand our openness to God’s spirit.

Given, Belonging, Searching and Mature faith are stages we go in and out of throughout life.  Each requires different learning skills and opportunities.  It is a process in which we journey towards wholeness.   

We come to such faith in different ways.  This is evident in Jesus’ calling of the twelve.  Andrew, Simon Peter and Philip “drop their nets and follow” simply with the call (Matthew 4:18-22). James and John, the sons of Zebedee, will follow after an amazing miracle (Luke 5:1-11).  Matthew is called from his tax collector’s table and out of his status as a “sinner” (Matthew 9:9-12). Thomas will not come to faith until he places his hands in the wounds of the Lord’s resurrected body (John 20:27-28).  If his own disciples display a diversity of response to Jesus, who are we to judge each other for the diversity of our own?

Jesus is speaking of the vine and branch analogy to his disciples.  He is encouraging them not just to practice their religion but to nurture their connection, their relationship with God.  The same is true for us.

We all want our churches to grow and prosper with new members and activities.  But if our motivation for church growth is to get new people to give their money to the budget or volunteer on our committees we’ll attract very few. Who wants to join an institution whose mission is to get you to give money and sit on a committee?

Rather, churches grow when their members are deeply committed to inviting others into discipleship.   And the most effective way to do that is to be one!

Disciples earnestly open their lives to the reality of God at whatever stage they find themselves.  Disciples learn the story, the history, and the traditions of their faith.  Disciples celebrate them even as they come to know their limitations.  Disciples are known by the credentials of their lives as they love God and neighbor.  Discipleship is the formation of a peculiar people, with a distinctive lifestyle. 

When our friends and family see the quality of our faith and ask how they can get it too, that’s when our churches grow.

This is the last Sunday of the liturgical year.  We call it “Christ the King Sunday”.  Next Sunday we’ll begin a new liturgical year with the beginning of Advent, which leads into the Christmas celebration and the New Year.  The sanctuary will be decorated with the Christmas Tree and the symbols and colors of the season.

This is a great time of year to take stock of our faith not merely the status of our religion.  Do we feel connected to God?   Has the maze of confusion and anxiety in the world and our nation today subverted our faith?  What’s in the way of us experiencing the power and presence of the Divine Spirit within us and in those all around us?

Jesus is the vine and we are his branches.   Each and every day and especially in times like these Jesus can be our teacher, our model and guide. 

If we want our children to have faith...if we want others to join us here at church…those around us will know who and what we are by the credentials of our living and the quality of our discipleship.

Amen.

Saints and Sinners

Luke 6:20-31

October 23, 2016

Mark S. Bollwinkel

In the course of a normal week, a pastor hears a lot of good reasons why one should not come to church.    When preachers run into parishioners at the grocery store, or coming out of a movie or at the mall, we hear all sorts of good reasons; “I can experience God best outdoors, at the beach or in the mountains or while playing golf [I’m told that God’s name is uttered quite often on the golf course!]”; “We’ve got to take the kids to soccer, or T-ball little league, or dance lessons on Sunday mornings, it’s the only time they offer these activities”; “You know Pastor, the church is full of sinners and I just don’t want to associate with religious hypocrites.”

I usually hear this reason from someone who has been slighted or hurt in the past by the insensitivity of a pastor or parishioner.  Someone who has seen a congregation betray its ideals.

And of course, they are right.  Each and every church is full of sinners far more than saints.

Vance Havner writes about people who come to church to be entertained.  He tells of a church that brought in a performing horse.   They asked the horse how many commandments there were in the Bible and he stomped ten times.  How many apostles and he stomped twelve times.   Some nitwit in the crowd asked how many hypocrites there are in this church and the horse went into a dance on all fours.

Much has been written describing the decline of the Protestant church in America.  I’ve mentioned it in a variety of settings as it affects the United Methodist Church.   According to the Pew Religious Survey, the single largest group to increase in the past decade is people who say they don’t subscribe to any religious affiliation at all.   Most aren’t atheists rather they believe in God but prefer not to get involved in religious institutions.  We call them “spiritual not religious”.   One fifth of the US public and a third of adults under the age of 30 are reportedly unaffiliated with any religion, however they identify as being spiritual in some way.  This is especially true of the “Millennial Generation”; 35% of those between the ages of 18-29 identify themselves as “spiritual not religious”. 

Consider the public face of Christianity today.  TV evangelists blame hurricanes and earthquakes on the people they condemn.   Clergy sexual abuse scandals have alienated millions from institutional churches.   Our own denomination is on the brink of schism over the full inclusion of the LGBTQ community.   Is it any wonder that young people are staying away?

Research suggests that Millennials perceive that most church goers have little interest in actually living like Jesus, rather they see the church as a social club for like-minded people (Pew Research Forum, JANUARY 8, 2016, “Q&A: Why Millennials are less religious than older Americans”).

In our gospel lesson this morning from Luke the author edits Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount (chapters 5-7) juxtaposing saints from sinners.   He defines the saints by the faith and hope of the marginalized in society over against the privileged sinners who live indifferent to the claims of God on their lives.

            The church can be full of hypocritical, prideful and self-centered people.     We don’t live up to our values.   And I am the first among them! (I Corinthians 15:9)

            Someone once asked Gandhi, “What is the greatest enemy of Jesus Christ in India?” and Gandhi replied immediately with one word, “Christianity!”

            And yet, here we are.   Frail, fragile, often confused people who come, many of us week in and week out, seeking something more out of life than we can find without the church in our lives.    The beauty of worship, the potential of faith and the inspiration of those who indeed live saintly lives compels us to be here still.    If one need proof of the power of God one need only consider that the message of the church and its hope has lived for 2,000 years despite the shortcomings and failure of our all-too human institution! 

            One of the main things that keeps this sinner in the church is the example of the saints I keep running into in places like this.  I won’t embarrass them by calling them out but you know who I am talking about.  

A week from Tuesday we observe All Saints Day, traditionally the first day of November, remembering the witness of the saints who have gone before us, whose lives of grace, sacrifice and love inspire us even today.   On all Saints Day, we look beyond the shadows of death to hold up that which is eternal and lasting in lives well lived.   We remember our parents, our friends and our heroes who although no longer living, remain in our hearts very much alive in God’s love.

Saints, it is said, are sinners who go on trying.   

And they have names.

Oseola McCarty* was born in Marion County, Mississippi. She lived in Mississippi all of her life. As a young girl, McCarty dreamed of becoming a nurse. However, family duty stood as an obstacle to occupational goals, as her aunt and grandmother became ill when she was a young schoolgirl. McCarty left school after completing the sixth grade to care for them. Since her family was one of washerwomen, McCarty followed in their footsteps. She cleaned other people's clothes for over seventy years.

Oseola McCarty never married. She did not have any children. She did not own a car. Even with the extreme warmth of the Mississippi climate, McCarty did not possess an air-conditioner until her later years, convinced by the urging of her concerned banker. When she was 88 years old, Oseola McCarty made a gift of $150,000 to the University of Southern Mississippi to help impoverished students. It was a large portion of her life savings.

She began saving money when she was very young. Her habit of saving and investing a portion of her earnings continued throughout her career. She lived simply and never wastefully. She worked hard and bought only what she needed.   Due to good work and saving habits McCarty accumulated a great deal of money.

McCarty's donation of $150,000 to the University of Southern Mississippi is the largest gift given by an African-American to that university. Though she was unable to complete her own education, it was her intention that her gift would make it possible for many others in financial need to do so. Years ago, African-American students were not allowed to attend the University of Southern Mississippi. Now, with McCarty's support, and numerous matching gifts to her scholarship fund, African-American students have an opportunity to fulfill their dreams of a college education.  

Rick Bragg, a New York Times correspondent and a Southerner, won the Pulitzer Prize in 1996 for a package of stories he wrote, including this one about Oseola McCarty. Before she died of liver cancer he had the opportunity to meet her at her modest home.

"…here was this little biddy woman in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, who had given away everything she had ever worked for... She spent the better part of an afternoon with me and she turned on her air conditioner for me, just to be nice," said Bragg. "She didn't use it unless company was there.

"She was holding this Bible... It was held together with Scotch tape. I think all of us who grow up in the South have seen that. You know, you don't throw away a Bible just because the cover wears out. It had Corinthians sticking out -- and practically every other part of the Bible.

"We just talked about why she did it (gave away her savings) and I think that's one reason why…In 1995, she knew that her death, if not imminent, was coming. She made that wonderful gift in anticipation of that. What really surprised people -- and what surprised her -- was what that gift did during the interim.

"She gave the gift in anticipation of dying and lived in a way in those four years after the gift that most people couldn't imagine," Bragg said. "Shaking hands with the President, being honored by the United Nations, being honored by people of all colors everywhere around the country -- it just doesn't happen."

"They just don't make people like that anymore," he added. "I mean, my mama's like that, but they just don't make people like that anymore... I've always said if judgment day came and I couldn't hide under my mama's porch -- because I know I'd be safe there -- I'd try to hide under Miss McCarty's."  (“Oseola McCarty’s Tattered Bible Was Scotch-taped”, Phil Hearn, September 29, 1999)

I wonder what part of Corinthians Ms. McCarty used so much over a lifetime that it would fall out of her Bible;

-“Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful, arrogant or rude.   Love does not insist on its own way;’ it is not irritable or resentful.  Love does not rejoice in the wrong but rejoice in the right.   Love bears all this, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things. Love never ends…the greatest is love.”  (I Cor. 13:4-8, 13) 

 -“So we do not lose heart.  Even though out outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day.  For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure…”  (II Cor. 4:16-17) 

-“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness. So I will boast all the more gladly of my weakness so that the power of Christ may dwell in me…for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.”  (II Cor. 12:8-10) 

All of these and more would be recipes for saintly living; love, courage, hope.   Saints aren’t perfect people.   They are just forgiven people who to the best of their ability put God at the center and then live like it.   

Saints, it is said, are sinners who go on trying.   

And they have names.

Remember today those who have gone before you and have left indelible marks in your life for good and beauty and truth.   Celebrate the memories of love and grace from the people that have mattered most to you that continue to inspire your living.    And name them in your hearts.

            We all want to see our church institutions grow and prosper.  Let us pray that our own examples of faith are so compelling that they invite people to come and join us on the journey rather than keep them away.

            Amen.

*(Adapted from a paper developed by a student taking a Philanthropic Studies course taught at the Center on Philanthropy at Indiana University. It is offered by “Learning To Give” of the Council of Michigan Foundations and the Indiana University Center on Philanthropy. This page may be reproduced for educational, noncommercial uses only, all other rights reserved. © Council of Michigan Foundations, Learning To Give)