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)

Never Give Up! 

Luke 18:1-8 

October 16, 2016 

Mark S. Bollwinkel

            Jesus tells the parable of the widow and the unjust judge in order to teach his disciples about prayer.

            We may not like to hear what he has to say because in many ways we have become the ones with “itching ears”.

            Remember that in Paul’s second letter to his colleague Timothy he warns the early church that a time is coming when “people with itching ears” will accumulate teachers to suit their own likings.  They will turn away from the traditions of truth.  They will wander into myth. (II Timothy 3:14-4:5). We may be in just such a time, people with itching ears.

            The experts say we are in the era of the death of denominationalism.  Mainline Protestant denominations have lost millions of members in the last 20 years.

            What is the difference anymore between Methodists and Presbyterians, Congregationalists and American Baptists?  We compete for “market share” now-a-days, not “truth”.

            Most folk don’t care much about the history and doctrines of the churches they attend.  Rather, we chose the church that is closest to our homes, the one with good parking, and the one with the best music.  Comfort and convenience are the primary factors determining our church shopping.  We seek out a preacher who will tell us what we want to hear.

            Remember the story about the agnostic who fell off a cliff?  About halfway down he caught hold of a bush sticking out.  There he was hanging, momentarily spared, but still too far from the ground to let go.  There appears to be no way out.  In desperation, for one of the first times in his life he prays out loud, “Is anybody up there?”  Again he calls out, “Is anybody up there?”  A deep and reverberating voice answers, “Yes, this is the Lord”.  The man yells frantically, “Oh, God, help me!”  There is a moment of silence.  Then the Lord answers, “Let go of the bush and I will save you.”  There is another silence as the man looks down at the ground far below.  Finally, he yells, “Is there anybody else up there?”

            What do we do today when a preacher’s politics or lifestyle offends our own bias?  We change churches.  What happens when the preacher gets a little too personal or asks for too much?  We change the channel.

            There are the occasional exceptions to the decline of the main-line Protestant churches.  In North America they are sectarian, non-denominational congregations, often based around an articulate and charismatic personality.  He…it is almost always a man…will gather a group of like minded people around him and tell them exactly what they want to hear.  Simple and strong answers for people caught up in complex and confusing times.

            United Methodist tradition is to honor one’s personal experience and sense of reason as a source of God’s revelation in the world.   That often means we offer complex and diverse answers to complex and puzzling problems.    We encourage questions and individual soul searching.  We reject rock rigid conformity.  We celebrate the diversity of ways to understand and worship the eternal God who by nature is beyond any human definition, even our own. 

United Methodists change ministers every five years or so because we believe a person joins the church not the preacher.  We know that each and every ordained United Methodist clergy offers a different set of skills and strengths that a local church needs.  So we move them around to help build up the whole.  Our itineration system is based on the belief that the clergy are to preach as God wills, not as the congregation wants.  In an age of entitlement and comfortable Christianity, no wonder we are losing members.

Let’s be honest.  We want God on our terms.  That is why Jesus’ message about prayer may be difficult for us to hear.           

The widow persists in demanding justice, even though she knows the judge cares little for anyone or for God.

She didn’t have an ounce of authority as a widow in her society.  Yet she did not accept her status quo.  With all of her might she acted to change her situation.  And ultimately she wins, merely because of her persistence.

Jesus says that is how we are to pray.

We are to pray, regardless of the odds.

During the Loma Prieta earthquake in 1989, our Clovis United Methodist church was hosting their annual Chicken Pie supper.  I, as their pastor. As I drove there the radio descriptions of the earthquake damage were horrible and urgent.  I wanted to do something, anything to respond.  The feeling of helplessness was overwhelming.  We were told not even to try phoning family members there because it would only make matters worse.

I rushed into the dinner and lead a prayer, such a seemingly impotent thing to do.  But only so because we do not, and cannot, fully comprehend the power of such a prayer.

Not a few of us have struggled with our faith since September 11^th 2001.   How could a just and loving God let such horror happen?  Why didn’t God answer our prayers as we watched those planes crash into the Twin Towers?

Some estimates suggest that up to 50,000 people could have been in those towers at the time of the attack.  Yet the buildings held their structure for over one hour, allowing thousands to escape, allowing hundreds of emergency personnel to get them out.  That 2,606 died is horrible beyond comprehension.   It could have been much, much worse.

That God doesn’t necessarily answer prayer on our terms doesn’t mean that our prayers are ineffective.  Prayer is relationship with a God whose reality is beyond human comprehension.

The widow didn’t stand a chance fighting a judge but that did not dissuade her.  World hunger, racial violence, global poverty may seem beyond our reach.  It may seem pointless to pray about your marriage getting back together or your kid getting off drugs but that is not to stop us.  We are to pray, regardless of the odds.

We are to pray with actions as well with words.

The widow did not accept the injustice that victimized her life.  She took on “City Hall” and won.

Prayer is not only those words formally recited in a sanctuary or those said in the silence of meditation.  Prayer is a way of living, articulating praise and thanksgiving and confession and petition by what we do!

When we bring a donation of clean socks for the men’s homeless program at First UMC Salinas or donations of non-perishable food items for the Food Pantry at All Saints Episcopal Church down the street, as we do so it is a prayer.  It is a prayer for an unknown family to have a healthy meal.  It is a prayer that a stranger’s feet might be warm and healthy.

Our prayers for the victims of injustice or tragedy are mute if we do not act within our means to assist them.  Prayer is to propel us out into the world as well as give us a haven for a moment from it.  We are to pray with actions as wells as with words.

We are to pray, regardless of the outcome.

We have become a culture of instant gratification.  Food comes fast, cash comes automatically and pleasure is the just reward for labor, “This Bud’s for You!”’

How odd it must be for us to hear our Lord urge us to pray with no guarantees that we will get what we want.

The gospel writer Luke is writing to his church in very difficult times.  The result of their faith has brought them division in their families and persecution from their society. They remember Jesus’ promise to them that He would return during their lifetime.  Yet the waiting was hard and becoming longer.

We still wait.

Luke writes to his church, “When the Son of Man returns will he find faith on earth?”  Faith is an acceptance to let God be God.  God’s promised future will come but in God’s time, not necessarily our own.  We sophisticated, well-educated folk have an extraordinary degree of entitlement.  We expect the best for ourselves and our loved ones, and right now!  We may not want to hear Jesus teach that we are to pray regardless of the outcome.  We may not want to hear that God answers prayer, but sometimes with a “no”.

An associate of mine decided it was time to shed some excess pounds.  He took his new diet seriously, even changing his driving route to avoid his favorite bakery.  One morning, however, he arrived at a clergy meeting carrying a gigantic coffeecake.

“This is a very special coffeecake,” he said.  “I accidentally drove by the bakery this morning and there in the window were a host of goodies.  I felt this was no accident, so I prayed, ‘Lord, if you want me to have one of these delicious coffeecakes, let me have a parking place directly in front of the bakery.’  And sure enough the eighth time around the block, there it was! God answered my prayer!”

Jesus tells us to pray regardless of the odds, with actions as well as words, regardless of the outcome.

We may not like that.

Those of us Christians who are obsessed with convenience and control may resent Jesus’ call to faith.  Some people pray and are healed, while others we love fail, hurt and die regardless of how hard we pray.  Why some folks’ prayers are answered and others’ are not, we are not to know.

But we can know this.

In the face of popular and convenient religious gimmicks and myths, never give up on prayer.

As frustrating and mysterious and awkward it may seem at times, never give up on prayer.

If the unjust judge will vindicate the persistent widow, how much more will our loving God answer our prayers?

Even if you don’t feel like it, even if you doubt if any God is listening, even if your heart is broken and you can’t utter another word, never give up on prayer.

Amen.

A Low Carb Sermon

Genesis 25:29-34

October 9, 2016

Mark S. Bollwinkel

            This is a low carb sermon.

            “Carbohydrates” are a technical name for sugars; high energy bursts of calories, often sweet in taste.    Most foods have some level of carbohydrates.  Our modern, processed foods contain extraordinary levels of highly refined carbohydrates.   They are found in white breads, pastries, soft drinks, or white flour pastas, and hidden within many of our processed comfort foods such as breakfast cereals, fruit juices or fast foods.   In refined white sugar or flour products these carbohydrates are broken down very quickly by the body elevating blood sugar levels which at first give us a sense of well-being.  Then as the blood sugar levels drop we develop a depressed craving for more.   The Atkin’s or South Beach diets have become popular explaining how these sugars are digested directly into fat storage, so that when folks abstain from foods containing white sugar or white flour carbohydrates they will lose weight. 

            “Low carb” diets, food lines and entire stores now appear everywhere!    Ignoring the role of fat and calories to weight gain, pizza parlors offer “30% reduced carb” pizzas by rolling their dough thinner.    Drive through fast food restaurants offer “low carb burgers” wrapped in lettuce instead of white bread.   Even Kentucky Fried Chicken tried to offer their products as “diet food”, “low in carbs”, until they were turned down by the Federal Trade Commission.

            Well, in a blatant attempt to cash in on this low carb craze, I am proud to assert that this is a low carb sermon; not a lot of sugar and it takes a while to digest.

            Hopefully, it will contain a healthy level of protein; grams of the muscle building element essential for growth.   When the preacher quotes a hero or shares the story of a saint or offers rich biblical insight it builds up the Body of Christ.  

            Hopefully this sermon will contain just the right level of healthy fat.   Our bodies need an appropriate level of unsaturated, non-hydrogenated fat such as olive or fish oils.  So do our spiritual ears need to hear a corny joke or two and a dash of hyperbole to get the meat of a sermon.

            And don’t forget the fiber.   Fiber is that insoluble, indigestible “stuff” found naturally in many foods.  When added to other foods, fiber aids the intestines and cleans out the colon as it passes through the body.   Hopefully the casual mention of certain professional sport activities or the warm and winsome butchering of the English language by this preacher will help flush out our spiritual digestive tract as well.

            In fact, one could correctly argue that our Biblical tradition offers a variety of examples of “low carb” nutrition.   

When Moses promises bread and meat to feed the Israelites in their desert wandering (Ex. 16:1-36, Num. 11:4-9), God sends “manna” in the morning for them to make their bread.  According to scholars this manna may have been the “honeydew secretion of two kinds of scale insects feeding on the sap of the tamarisk tree” (Bodenheimer, Harper’s Bible Dictionary, 1985) in the Sinai desert; completely organic and high in fiber.   The “meat” God sends in the evening is quail, whose wonderful flesh is low in fat and rich in protein.   

When Jesus feeds the 5,000 in the gospels with five loaves and two fish (Mt. 14:13-21, Mk. 6:32-44, Lk. 9:10-17, John 6:1-15), the bread is made from barley flour, an excellent flour very low on the glycemic index.  The fish is high in protein and healthy fats.

Dr. Jordan S. Ruben asserts in his book, The Maker’s Diet (Siloam, New Mary, FL, 2004) that a diet based on the Biblical era’s dependency on unprocessed fruits and vegetables, unrefined sugars and flours, grass fed meats and lots of exercise could save us from the dangers of our contemporary Northern American diet.  A Biblical diet could help us live longer and enjoy life more along the way.

But let’s admit that that sounds pretty silly for most of us, certainly impractical.   Who has the time to cook our meals at home anymore let alone expend the energy to plan out a healthy diet?   Many of us gulp down a coffee and bagel on the way out the door, do business over lunch, dash off to the next event and pick up something along the way.  We don’t have the time to argue with the kids about what is nutritious.  It is so much easier to just “drive thru”.   

Frazzled and harried at the end of busy days we are “starving”.  We just want somebody else to feed us for a while.  By 2012, 43.1% of American meals were purchased and eaten away from home (USDeptAg).

Doesn’t that sound just like Esau in our Old Testament lesson this morning?   After a tiring day hunting in the field he sells his birthright to his younger brother Jacob for a pot of stew.

Jacob and Esau are the twins of Isaac and Rebekah.   Their saga (Genesis 25:19-33:20) describes the primal struggle between agrarian and migratory cultures, between two nations in the ancient Near East and the struggle within families for a future.   Their story also describes the power of food.

Esau wants some of Jacob’s “red stuff”, possibly a blood soup (Von Rad) popular among hunters like Esau.   As the older brother, Esau is entitled to the larger share of Isaac’s estate upon his death, the inheritance being his right at birth (Deut. 21:15-17).   The younger brother Jacob seizes the opportunity of Esau’s hunger and careless impatience to trade not blood soup but a lentil stew and some bread for his brother’s birthright.   Esau agrees and falls for the deception.

In fact, he will do so a second time when the aged and blind Isaac asks Esau to cook a savory stew of wild game in order to receive his father’s final blessing before he dies (Genesis 27:1-f).   Rebekah hears the agreement through the tent wall and prepares a savory lamb stew for Jacob to present before Esau returns in order that the younger brother might gain Isaac’s final blessing instead.   Jacob covers himself with the skin of a hairy animal and rubs his cloths in the dirt and sage of the outdoors in order to trick his blind father’s touch and smell, along with his taste buds, and rob his brother a second time of his inheritance.

And it all begins with a pot of stew.

What are we selling our birthright for?

God’s intention by the very structure of our biological lives is that we inherit health and wholeness to the degree we are given it at birth.    Our bodies are designed to touch and smell and taste the glory of God’s creation.  Within the limitations of mortality our bodies are designed to heal themselves when given the chance.   We discard that birthright when we fill our bodies and the bodies of our families with the empty calories of “stuff” because it’s easy and cheap.    We dismiss the joy of eating when we no longer sit together at a meal, take the time to actually taste our food and share it with conversation and concern.   We diminish the sacredness of food when we don’t pause for a moment before we eat and thank God in prayer that we are a few of the privileged who have enough.

We’re still selling our birthright for food.

We do it with drugs.    Ken Caminiti played baseball for San Jose State University and was the National League MVP in 1996.   Those who played with him loved him.   He died at the age of 41 to a drug overdose in New York City.   He had struggled with drug addiction for years.  He confessed using steroids to be a professional athlete.   Any of us sell our God given right to inherit health and wholeness when we seek the answers to our problems in a needle or a pill or a glass.

We do it for money.

There were two evil brothers. They were rich, and used their money to keep their secrets from the public eye. They even attended the same church.  They looked to be perfect Christians.  Then their pastor retired, and a new one was hired. Not only could she see right through the brothers' deception, but she also spoke well and true, and the church started to swell in numbers.  A fund raising campaign was started to build a new assembly hall. All of a sudden, one of the brothers died. The remaining brother sought out the new pastor the day before the funeral and handed her a check for the amount needed to finish paying for the new building.  “I have only one condition”, he said. “At his funeral, you must say my brother was a saint.”  The pastor gave her word, and deposited the check.   The next day, at the funeral, the pastor did not hold back.  “He was an evil man,” the pastor said.  “He cheated on his wife and abused his family.”  After going on in this vein for a small time, she concluded, “but compared to his brother, he was a saint.”

            Consider the pressure we put ourselves under, the tension that shapes our most intimate relationships and the cost to our health and happiness that comes from the hold that money has on our lives.    Of course we are called to provide for our families.   But on the day we gather to mark the death of a person, at a funeral or memorial service, the inheritance that will be celebrated has little to do with their money and everything to do with the love they shared with their family and the world.  In fact, it’s the only thing we take with us into the next world.

            We sell our birthright to God’s promise of health and wholeness when money becomes the primary focus in our lives.

God intends for us to inherit nothing less than the Kingdom of God.   We are to revel in the bounty of this earth, celebrate its flavors and share those blessings in community and in service.  God is at work in our lives even in our failings, even when we don’t recognize it.  All we are asked is to be faithful.

This is the “meat” of the scripture lesson today.

Jacob’s tricks will succeed but will also result in him fleeing for his life to exile in Haran where he will spend 14 years in servitude to his uncle Laban, marry Laban’s two daughters Rachel and Leah, and return to his homeland to encounter and reconcile with Esau.   On his return he wrestles with God and is re-named “Israel” = “he who struggles with God”.   His twelve sons will become the twelve tribes of Israel.  From their decedents a nation is born that will offer the world its savior Jesus of Nazareth 1,800 years later.

What is most nourishing about a low carb sermon such as this isn’t that it will keep us from gaining weight.  We’ll buy into all sorts of fads to chase the illusion that a number on the scale will make us happy.  

What feeds us the most is hearing how God can use even childish, petty people, like Esau and Jacob…like you and me…to do great things.

Amen.

Re-kindle the Gift of God

 2 Timothy 1:3-7

October 2, 2016

Mark S. Bollwinkel

In the New Testament letters of the early church Timothy is described as the Apostle Paul’s representative, emissary and colleague.    He travels with Paul throughout his journeys, will spend time with him in prison and when Paul can’t get away to make a meeting he sends his trusted friend Timothy whom Paul calls “my true child in the faith” (I Tim 1:2).   Paul uses this phrase because Timothy was very young.    He may also have been bashful and lacking in self-confidence.   When Paul was in Ephesus and sent Timothy to Corinth to check on the church there, the Corinthians got mad that Paul hadn’t come himself and instead sent a “young whipper-snapper”.     Paul had to remind the Corinthians not to give Timothy any reason to fear, not to “despise him and to send him back in peace” (I Cor 16:10-11).

            In our text this morning Paul opens his letter to Timothy trying to encourage his young friend’s faith and courage.   To do so he reminds him of his roots.  Specifically, Paul reminds him of the faith and courage of his grandmother Lois and mother Eunice.   These are the only two references of these women by name in the Bible. 

They were both converts to Christianity from Judaism.   Although Jewish they both had gentile names reflecting the cosmopolitan region of Galatia in which they lived.  That area was known for a diversity of people from a variety of cultures and religious backgrounds.   Since she married a gentile and did not have her son circumcised (Acts 16:1-3), both in violation of strong Jewish traditions, Eunice had to have been ambivalent about her religious heritage.

Nevertheless, something in Lois’ and Eunice’s experience of Jesus of Nazareth and conversion to his way of life so transforms their lives that a male writer in a time when women were considered second class citizens at best, mere property at worst, cites them by name as examples of courage and faith. Where their religion had once been passive and confused they acted with passion and purpose in their new faith.

To “rekindle the gift of God” within him, Paul reminds Timothy that he has been nurtured by such saints as Lois and Eunice.  Now it is up to him to live in the “spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline”.  

            The primary task of Church of the Wayfarer United Methodist church is to do everything in our power to foster personal spirituality and social responsibility; we call that mission “Reaching Up, Reaching In and Reaching Out”.    My job as a pastor is to challenge each one of us, and especially myself, to “rekindle the gift of God” within us.  To stretch our thinking, to engage our passion, to risk our comfort zones, to dare again to change and grow as individuals and as a church together.    In part that means to reach beyond the routine of our religious expectations and be open to God’s calling for our future and our world.   And then to act on it; not just pay it lip service.

            Personally that may mean an attempt to reconcile with that brother or sister you haven’t spoken to for years.   It may mean getting help for the marriage you dare not even speak about.   It may mean reconsidering that job you hate.   It may mean putting off college for a few years until you know what you want to do there besides fulfilling the pressures and expectations of your parents.  

As a church, it may mean offering worship experiences based on the needs of those who aren’t here.   It may mean moving beyond making donations to the poor and homeless on the Monterey Peninsula and asking why there are poor among us in the first place.

            Personal spirituality is an empty exercise in narcissism if there is no commitment to make it our way of living.   And social responsibility is empty self-righteousness if it does not come from the heart.   In the end true religion is not found in our dogma and ritual but in how we live.

            What actions can we take to “rekindle the gift of God” within us?    Like Timothy most of us probably aren’t even ready to answer such a question.   That is why Paul reminds him of Lois and Eunice.

What they did to gain such acclaim is left mostly to our imagination but in one little verse we may get a hint.   Lois and Eunice were the ones who taught Timothy to read the scriptures of the Old Testament which would lay the foundation for his own faith in Jesus (II Tim 3:15).    These two women were not strangers to the Bible.  They had the passion to teach others about what they found in God.

If we would like to do more than ‘go through the motions’ of religious life and tap into the “spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline” we need get to know the Bible as a spiritual resource for our lives.  We can discover that in prayer and meditations we can encounter God’s dream for our lives.  We can take some time to nurture our own dreams for our lives and this wonderful church.

            Today we join with Protestant churches around the world on World Communion Sunday.   As we do so we remember that we are part of the global Body of Christ, God’s hands and feet in the world.  We strive to live inspired by the words of St. Francis, to be a people “where there is hatred, sowing love…where there is misery, God’s pardon…where there is doubt, true faith in the One God…”    We remember his compassion for all of God’s living things, even animals and birds of the air.   As our pets so often offer us their unconditional love, Christians strive to be agents of God’s unconditional love for the world.

As we take Holy Communion this morning together, remember those who have shaped your faith.  Did you have a “Lois” or “Eunice” to show you the way?  Name in your hearts those whose courage and grace inspire you even today.     

 And pause for a moment to consider how many are counting on you and me.   Will they remember our names long after we are gone because we “Reached Up, Reached In and Reached Out”?

Amen.