Christian Leadership in Present Times Part 4

Leadership Is Being Willing to Fail: Deut. 1:26-40; Matthew 14: 22-33

            We return this week with another installment on our series Christian Leadership for Present Times. I hope by now that you realize this series on leadership isn’t just for specific people or church leaders. We all have to show leadership in our faith. Leadership is being willing to share the Good News with others, being willing to stand for what is right, being a powerful prayer partner within your own church, family, or community. We all have to take ownership of our faith and stand up for God’s grace in this world. Sometimes that means we will fall flat on our faces…a total fail. 

            I remember a couple of years ago we decided to do a big Easter egg hunt on the Saturday before Easter. We put together signs and eggs to be hidden. We advertised and had crafts, games, and prizes for the kids. We made this big effort to bring all these kids and families to the church to see and experience the community of faith here. That morning, however, it was raining and around 52 degrees. Three kids showed up that day, and they only came because Kathy called and asked a friend to bring her kids over. The whole event failed miserably. But faith sees beyond failure. In every perceived shortcoming, there is lesson and a point of growth. 

            In our Gospel lesson, Peter sank, but Peter had to sink, so he would know he needed God. Sometimes we live with a bravado or overconfidence in our capabilities that make us think all will be well no matter what. We look to our talents, our abilities, our education, and we plow ahead without prayer, without spiritual preparation, confident in our own capabilities. When Peter saw Jesus, he hopped right out of the boat and started doing the miraculous. 

            But, as usual, the storm around him broke his confidence and fed his fear. Sadly, he took his eyes off Jesus and turned his attention only to the storm. When he did that, he sank. We have to remember in every struggle that our eyes must be “fixed and stayed” as the King James Version says on the Christ who will deliver us. Psalm 27 reminds us, “The Lord is my light and salvation—so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble?” Peter had to sink because he needed a reminder. He needed to turn his eyes from the storm ahead to Jesus whose power led him to walk on water. The moment Peter began to struggle he called out “Save me, Lord!” in verse 30. Jesus immediately pulls him back up to safety. Peter may have sunk, may have failed in his faith, but Jesus pulled him back up to safety when he was in danger. Never, ever, take your eyes off Jesus who is strong to empower, to save, and to deliver. 

            Sometimes, though, not only do we look away from Jesus, we become captivated on the belief we will fail. Israel missed the promise because they became obsessed with the fear of failure. Peter may have sunk, but Israel didn’t even try! They were told to go in and conquer the nations living in the promised land. Instead they went full stop and said no. They became overwhelmed by the strength of the people living there, believed they were powerless, and even talked about finding giants. They believed, ridiculously might I add, that God had brought them all this way just to have them destroyed. 

            Their worry and focus on the fear of failure wrongly convinced them that the same God who parted the Red Sea, got them out of Egypt, led them by a cloud and fiery pillar, fed them manna, and brought water out of a rock was now going to abandon them. God’s busy, and God’s not going to waste all that time for no reason. Like Peter, they became consumed by the fear and lost their faith. Peter had to learn that God would save him. The Israelites should have known that God had already saved them. Thus, they were sent back to the desert and told they would never be the ones to inherit God’s promise. That would be saved for their children. Never let the fear of failure consume you and cost you the promises coming from God’s goodness and power. 

Finally, like Peter, let your doubts and questions lead you back to faith in the Holy One. When Jesus took hold of Peter and pulled him back up safely above the water, Jesus fusses at Peter for his behavior. “You have so little faith! Why did you doubt me?” Jesus says in verse 31. It’s two weeks in a row now that Jesus has asked about why his disciples have so little faith. Last week they wondered who this could be. This week, they get it. They worshipped him and proclaimed him to be the Son of God. 

We all will fail from time to time. We all will fear that we are going to fail from time to time. Instead of letting those times be the collective story of your life, let them remind you to call out to Jesus, the Savior and Deliverer. I read an article the other day on living without regrets. One of the ten tips said to “turn failures into stepping-stones.” Essentially, look at failure as an opportunity to grow and learn a lesson. Failures are never the be all end all, instead, failure is just a lesson or stepping-stone in disguise. 

Peter had to take the risk of getting out of the boat. If we never leave the boat, we will never grow. He ultimately sank; he failed. But that failure taught him to call out to Jesus to help him and pick him back up from the churning waters. Peter had to sink so he could see how amazing the strength of Jesus truly is. There was never a fear that Jesus was going to let him drown. Peter was loved, just as we are loved. God wasn’t going to let the Israelites be overpowered and destroyed in Canaan. God loved them and had made a promise. 

But maybe the biggest question or lesson here isn’t about Peter sinking, Jesus walking on water, what level of faith they had, or even the short-sightedness and fear of the Israelites. All of that is about learning the lesson in the midst of failure. Before we can even begin to learn the lesson, though, we have to be willing to take the risk. Instead, maybe the question for us is this: do we trust Jesus enough to climb out of the boat in the first place?

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/2154238181376260

Christian Leadership in Present Times, Part 3

Leadership is Facing Fear—Judges 6: 14-21; Luke 8:22-25

            This week, in our series on Christian Leadership in Present Times we consider one of the strongest questions or issues we have when we suddenly or unexpectedly find ourselves in leadership positions—the fear that goes with it. A friend of mine was preparing for a large presentation a few years ago. He had the support of all the coworkers around him and employees who worked under him. He was prepared, energized, and ready to offer a powerful presentation. As he sat down in the room and got situated, he looked back over his shoulder and suddenly realized they were not there. In this instance he was on his own and the job fell to him. 

            That old anxiety rose up deep from within. He felt first the knot in his throat, the pounding in his temples, the blurriness of his vision, and finally the dreaded churn in his stomach. He ran from the room overtaken by the anxiety, the fear, and the dry heaving. Fear and anxiety (and I don’t mean the actual diagnosable disorder here) are such powerful and paralyzing forces in our lives, but faith and the call to lead for Christ push us to move beyond our fear and anxiety and find God’s power in our lives. Facing fear with God’s help demands that we go as God sends, that we seek Jesus in the storm, and that we rest safe in God’s power to deliver. 

Facing our fears and our anxieties, with God’s help, demands that we continue to follow on as God leads us. Even when the dread looms strongly in our lives, we must put one foot in front of the other and keep walking because God will walk with us. It is easy, though, when we become anxious or fearful to get this paralyzing sensation. It’s like everything around us stops, and we cannot go forward even when we know we have to do so. 

Gideon struggled with this. God called him lead the Israelites to conquer the Midianites, and God said to him, “Go with the strength you have…I am sending you!” Gideon, however, went to that age-old phrase which rears its ugly head every time we are worried or just don’t want to do it, “But, Lord…” I’m weak, I can’t, I’m tired, it’s too much, no, no please!” God gave Gideon a sign, then another, then another. God promised to be with Gideon. The Holy One, the God of All, who is the foundation of our life and relationship and faith promised Gideon, and Gideon didn’t trust it. Sometimes you don’t need a sign, you just need to get up and go. 

But maybe it’s worse than expected. Not only is there anxiety and fear, but the storm can clearly be seen, and it’s rocking the boat so hard that you feel destruction is imminent.  What do you do? Simply put, we should seek Jesus. The disciples in our Gospel found themselves trapped in a storm described as “fierce.” All hope was gone—the wind was howling, boat getting full of water, and danger was beginning to overwhelm them just as the colossal waves were overtaking the boat. Side note here: not only did Jesus sleep through the raging storm, the shouting disciples, and the rocking boat, he had to also be soaking wet if it was filling with water. If you ever wondered what the peace of Jesus looks like, there you have it. 

What did the disciples do when it became too much? They sought Jesus. In an instant he calmed the storm. Seeking Jesus should be the first thing we do, not the last resort. Jesus didn’t keep the storm from happening, but he made sure the disciples did not get harmed. He calmed the storm just at the right time. There are two ways God works here: you either get delivered from the storm or you get delivered the strength to withstand the storm. Either way, to be a leader, you and Jesus must deal with the storm together. 

But we must still find our way to Jesus in the midst of the storm around us. If I were to confess to you now, I would have to say that I’m worried and anxious every day. It’s one of my many human qualities. I worry about what I can say to lead a congregation far more experienced and mature in faith. You’re not old by any stretch, but you have a few more collective life experiences than I do. I worry about how COVID is going to affect my church members, each and every one. I worry about those who are alone and in isolation that the strain may be too great. The news, work, managing relationships with other people—all of this gives me so much anxiety, and I know for you the storm is very real too. Each and every time the waves crash and the lightning cracks, there is a reminder; however, that Jesus is sleeping nearby, not because he doesn’t care, but because he is the Prince of Peace. Seek Jesus as soon as the storm clouds form. 

            Finally, we can rest safe in the Savior who has the power to calm the storm. Elisha Hoffman was a musician, choral leader, and hymnwriter. He taught many students the art of church music and worship. One day he received two messages in the same day from former students. Both of their wives had died, and they were devastated. Devastated himself and fearful of what his students would have to endure in grief and heartache, Hoffman turned to his Bible and found the scripture Deuteronomy 33:27, “The eternal God is your refuge, and [God’s] everlasting arms are under you.” From there he wrote a familiar verse, “What have I to dread, what have I to fear, leaning on the everlasting arms?” 

            We can rest safe because the God who created all things has the power to deliver us from evil or deliver us the strength to withstand what comes against us. Gideon wanted sign after sign from God, but eventually, and with only a few hundred fighters, he conquered the Midianites through God’s help. As soon as the disciples sought Jesus to help and save them, Jesus came out and spoke to the storm, and it stopped. He says to the stunned disciples, “Where is your faith?” The Gospel of Matthew adds that he rebuked them, saying, “O you of little faith.” 

            Sometimes, in the worst storms we have, all we have left is our faith. Sometimes, when we see ourselves in leadership roles, the first thing we say is, “But God!” or “I can’t!” We ask for signs we already know are there like Gideon, or we lose our faith in one fell swoop when the storms come up like the disciples. Your faith in God to give strength is the most precious thing you have. We will still be anxious. We will still have fears. We will still endure pain, heartache, and all the other troubles, storms, and battles here on earth. The loss of a loved one still hurts deeply. The sickness we face still saps the joy out of us and gives us great fear in its place. The dull ache of exhaustion will still cripple us from time to time. That’s probably the bad news. 

            But the good news is that God will be there with us. Just as God led Gideon to victory, God will be our strength and shield. Just as Jesus calmed the storm, we will be helped when we cry out to the Savior. When I’ve called out to Jesus, I’ve learned a lesson. I still had to face the problem before me. But I knew that God was with me. And when you face fear and anxiety, God will be with you too. When Jesus asks, “Where is your faith?” may we joyfully say, right here in the God who fought with Gideon and calmed the storm for the disciples. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/2958609907689503

Christian Leadership in Present Times, Part 2

Leadership Is Service: Isaiah 50: 4-7; John 13: 1-17

            We continue, this week, our Epiphany series on Christian leadership and how that looks in today’s society. In many instances these days we find ourselves in leadership positions unexpectedly, or even when we’d rather not stand out front. Last week we looked at calling and commitment. This week we look at the ways in which leadership is about service. When I visited one of the European art museums in college, I was captivated by the enormous paintings of kings and queens dressed in royal robes, perched triumphantly on a horse or standing triumphantly in a backdrop of victory or power. The strength, the triumph, the sheer look of importance was awe-inspiring and made one feel so small compared to these historic leaders. 

            But then I saw another portrait. Jesus, the Savior of All, not posed in triumph or glory, but humbly washing the dirt off of his disciples’ feet. The guide note for the painting referred to it as “the Servant Leader in action.” The Lord and Savior, the King of All Glory, was here as the Servant Leader washing dusty feet of his rough and tumble disciples. It’s an odd scene to picture, isn’t it? We’ve come to accept this narrative from John, but do we really stop to think how truly odd the idea is of the Son of God kneeling down and washing feet? 

            It appears to be an example many of us and our leaders have forgotten—that in order to be a leader you must be a humble servant. We need only to look at the frightening events of this week to see this. We witnessed the first mob breach of the capitol since the War of 1812 excluding minor incidents. This summer we witnessed violence and anger as well, and no one in high places had a clue what to say or what to do. When people are angry, fearful, worried, or suffering, they turn to their leaders for help, and what do we do when there are no answers to be found from those tasked with answering? 

            Peter, a great leader in the church, didn’t understand what was going on either. He protested to Jesus that he would never wash Peter’s feet. Peter was shocked by the very idea that Jesus would do the work normally reserved for the lower servant in the house. But Jesus reminded him, “Unless I wash you, you won’t belong to me.” Peter then wants to be washed everywhere, but Jesus teaches him a lesson. We must target the places where the sin or dirt has gathered and make sure we have washed them clean. Jesus didn’t need to fix all of Peter—he only targeted where the dirt and dust had gathered from the journey. Target where the dirt has gathered. 

            Being servant leaders means we address gently and openly those things that keep us from our relationship with Christ. It is painful and uncomfortable to bring up sins, wounds, and problems deep within that have weighed on us for years. It is uncomfortable to lead by this example of being the wounded healer, but Jesus didn’t leave the dust alone to settle. He gently addressed the old habits and wounds of the woman at the well, reminding her of her past and providing her a way to drink the living water. Jesus didn’t let the dust settle on Peter or the disciples’ feet. He washed their feet then told them to do the same, not prophesy and preach, not to be powerful and mighty, but to wash feet. 

            In many ways, Jesus turned things upside down. He told the disciples that he had given them the example to follow, then he identified himself as the servant and messenger and said this: “Do as I have done…I tell you the truth, the [servants] are not greater than their master, [n]or is the messenger more important than the one who sends the message.” The last shall be first, and the first shall be last. Blessed are the poor (in Luke) and the poor in spirit (in Matthew). Care for the least of these, my brethren. To be baptized in the waters of servanthood is so very different than those awash power who we continue to worship. 

            Perhaps the biggest lesson Jesus is teaching here is that if you live in pride, the gospel will never make sense; however, if you seek the heart of the humble servant, you will actually live the gospel good news. I’m reminded of the words from Micah 6:8 which asks what the Lord requires of us. The answer is to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly. Grace abides in the idea of humility, repentance, and love. Justice lives in the idea of mercy, forgiveness, and that the even the Son of God took on the role of a humble servant. There’s an old saying with a few variations which goes like this, “If serving is beneath you, then leadership is beyond you.” 

            In a world where we continue day after day to feel tension, to see the shadow of a conflict, and even to see what many call “open revolt,” we can begin, or even continue, to feel ground down, weary, and like the suffering has become overwhelming. But I still believe in the God who says to us, “Morning by morning new mercies I see…strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow!” Our problems may not be solved in an instant or with the wave of a magic wand, but they are in the hands of the God who created all and is still the Savior of All. 

            Of all the ghastly images we saw this week of our capitol damaged and destroyed, one image stood out to me the most, but in a good way. Rep. Andy Kim of New Jersey was photographed, unbeknownst to him and late after business had ended. He was on his knees with a trash bag, still in his suit, cleaning up the debris that was left. When asked about it, all he really said was that he loves the capitol, is honored to served, and added, “What else could I do?” The leaders still willing to kneel down and pick up trash, still willing to wash the feet in the same way the lower servants would remind us that there is still strength for today and hope for tomorrow. 

            When Jesus’s final test of servant leadership came, he rose to the occasion. Isaiah often gives us prophetic words about the suffering of the Messiah. Here in Isaiah 50, the writer says, “I offered my back to those who beat me…I did not hide my face from mockery.” It’s a reminder that Jesus’s call to be a servant leader took him from washing the disciples’ feet, to the suffering of the cross, and only eventually unto glory.

            To be Christian leaders, we must follow the example of Christ. But, be prepared, for Christ did not walk the pathway of ease or comfort. Christ knelt down and washed the feet of his disciples—fishermen, a tax collector, and even his own betrayer. He showed them that the heart of pride must be targeted and changed into a heart that embraces justice, mercy, and in each of those, humility. Yet you’re not called to a miserable task or to something that is gross, unbearable, or ugly, for even as Jesus tells us to be the servant, Jesus reminds us that the last shall be first in God’s kingdom. As Jesus said, “Do as I have done.” So now, may we be ready for the work.  

Service Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/743354386596844

Christian Leadership for Present Times, Part 1

Leadership is a Calling: Gen. 1: 1-5; Mark 1: 4-11

            This morning we start a new series on Christian Leadership and how that looks in today’s society. In these days we who follow God find ourselves in the position of being the Christian leaders unexpectedly or even undesirably. As a world filled with internet, Netflix, and all other manner of entertainment draws people, the church by comparison is seen as old, stodgy, and out of touch. I believe, however, that characterization is untrue. The church may not be as glamorous and glitzy as the latest Netflix show, but the church provides something our entertainment cannot—timeless truth, a mission to serve and save, and a calling to stand up for those on the margins of society to whom entertainment has turned a blind eye. 

            We have, though, become paralyzed by the predictions that the age of the church is beyond us and that the church will soon be relegated to obscurity. I believe that, too, is untrue. The church has not lost the power of God’s Spirit. Instead, the church and all of God’s people, are tired and timid, worried about frivolous things, and in need of a re-direction to God’s mission. God’s people need to find again this sense of urgency for God’s mission here on earth—for grace, for wisdom, for welcome, and for justice, but most of all for people in need of God’s life-changing love. 

            We begin today with the very basics of what it means to follow God and lead in faith. That very basic premise is that we are called by God. God’s voice has spoken over the ages to creation, to God’s people, to the unfaithful, and to all of humankind. God’s voice speaks to us in prayer, in the Word, and in push of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Over and over I hear you all tell me that the only motivation you felt to do God’s calling was something moved you or spoke to you and encouraged you with wisdom.

            We see today in the creation narrative of the Old Testament that all of existence began with a word spoken by God, calling forth something new out of nothing. Earth was formless, empty, and mostly just a bunch of vast nothingness. But the Spirit of God was present, and God spoke to say, “Let there be light.” This was the beginning of God making things new and amazing where once there was nothing. 

            Over and over the scripture tells us that God makes things new. Isaiah 43:19 says “For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Now, I realize there is a context to Isaiah’s prophecy, but I believe this is a verse that can stand alone as well—God makes all things new—the broken and the tired, the weary and the misguided, and God’s holy church which is in need of an energy boost these days. 

            In the Gospel, we even see that Jesus got a calling. Now, other Gospels add a bit to Mark’s text and say that John the Baptist was confused as to why Jesus would need to be baptized. In short, John says, “Um…what?” when Jesus asks to be baptized. John expected to be baptized by Jesus. In Matthew’s version, Matthew 3:15, Jesus says, “Let it be so now for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Jesus’s baptism marked his commitment to all who saw it declaring that he was committed to God’s calling and to God’s mission for him here on earth. God’s response came from the heavens to say that Jesus was the beloved in whom God was well-pleased. 

            You see God’s calling goes hand in hand with our commitment. You cannot have one without the other. You cannot commit to what you are not called to do, and you waste a calling if you do not commit to do it. Jesus demonstrated his commitment through God’s calling and then dedicated his remaining life to live it all the way, even, to the cross. Ministers talk about God’s call to them. Church leaders talk about how God called them. All who work in this field of faith should have some inkling of a call from God. In response we have all committed to following and living out this calling. 

            But I believe God doesn’t just call the preachers and the teachers. God calls to each and every person sitting in the pew—the lukewarm and the fervent, the worried and the peaceful, those present here and those watching along online. God calls to each and every one of us to be a disciple and follow on God’s mission. That calling can come to us in unexpected ways and take us to unexpected places. 

            I remember years ago my uncle’s antics at his office. They had just installed an intercom system where you could speak into every room from an announcer device on the phone. It was early in the morning about 6 AM. My uncle was downstairs and one other worker (who didn’t know my uncle was there) was upstairs. For a little fun, my uncle got on the intercom that none of the others knew had been installed and announced, “Steve, this is the voice of God. What are you doing?” For at least a few minutes, Steve was utterly terrified at this unseen voice announcing through the office…that is until he saw another car in the parking lot. 

            God’s voice can come to us unexpectedly. My call to ministry sounded very much like a strong South Georgia accent of a retired Methodist preacher, and I’m forever grateful that John Carroll pushed me to become your pastor. God spoke to me through him, and in turn, I made a commitment to you all here in answer to God’s somewhat unexpected calling in my life. 

            The hardest part of such a sermon is that God speaks to each of us differently through the Word, through the Holy Spirit, and through those around us preach and teach prophetically. Everyone wants to know, “what is God calling to me?” My response is that figuring out the Holy Spirit is much like herding cats. What I can tell you is that we have two main duties in our commitment side of it all: to listen and to tell. 

            We must listen carefully as we read God’s Word to be moved by the wisdom and guidance there. We must also be prepared to tell this Good News both in how we live and in what we say. God’s timeless truths have not changed—there is still grace for the wayward ones, healing for the broken, strength in God’s presence, and justice we must seek. After Jesus was baptized and publicly made his commitment, he set about doing these things. Jesus spoke out against evil, oppression, and exploitive inequality. Jesus healed all those who suffered. And Jesus offered grace to all who needed to be made anew. 

            If we are to follow God, it begins with listening to God’s calling in our lives then committing ourselves to living as the disciples here on earth. Being a leader for Christ is no big magical, mystical, unattainable thing. It simply starts with a calling and a commitment. As a result of that commitment we serve and work in this world and we tell the good news of God’s grace. I encourage you today to look past the tiredness, the struggle, and the stagnant mold. Pull out and dust off your commitment, find anew how amazing it can be to follow the God of all hope, of all love, and who breathed life into all things—and yes, even still, breathes new life into you and I this day. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/307658963983508

Epiphany

The Light Goes Into the World: Isiah 60: 1-6; Matthew 2: 1-12

            If I were to be truly, truly honest with you, I’d have to say that I don’t really care for the story of the Magi coming to visit Jesus. Yes, I preach it every year, but it’s such a difficult passage to continue making creative every year. I could talk about the Gentiles who came from the east to worship Jesus, but we’ve covered that. I could talk about the gifts—gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and how they symbolize Christ’s kingship, Godliness, and death and resurrection. However, I’ve done that twice now here. I could talk about the flight to Egypt, but that might get a bit political. I could even talk about Herod’s response, but the murder of so many innocents is terrifying. 

            Where does one go with this scripture on how these sages from the east came to Bethlehem and worshipped the Christ-child who was now likely almost a toddler? Perhaps, there are still a couple of things that resonate in this narrative from Matthew’s gospel. We focus in on two important things here in the story: they were led by the light, and they dared to take the journey. 

            There is a long history in the Bible of the importance of God’s light to the people. In the beginning God split the light and the darkness and decreed that the light would rule over our waking hours and the darkness over our sleeping hours. In many instances, God’s brilliant light blinded the enemies so that Israel would not be conquered. In the wilderness, as the Israelites marched to the Promised Land, God led them by a pillar of fire, or light, by day. In the New Testament, we see the light from a start leading the Magi. We also see that God came to the Apostle Paul and used a blinding light to reach his soul and change it for good. 

            We also hear about this guiding light in the hymn “O Holy Night” which says, “Led by the light of faith serenely beaming, so led by light of a start sweetly gleaming… here came the Wise Men from Orient land.” Now, this light could be Jupiter and Saturn aligning. It could be something non-miraculous and easily explained by science; however, the Gospel tells us that it was a miraculous light or star of God that led them. This is how God moves and works in and through us, using that heavenly and miraculous light of Christ to lead us. 

            We must step into this light and follow God’s guiding. Yet in John 3:19, we are told that “people loved darkness more than the light because their [deeds] were evil.” God has called us to come out of that sin—the sin that leads us away from God’s light, love, and grace. Sometimes the very ones who miss the light sit weekly on the pew of their church…or watch in their pajamas at home. You cannot follow God’s light and have a heart with prejudice and hate. You cannot follow God’s light and be filled with bitterness and resentment. You cannot follow God’s light and follow your own selfish desires too. You cannot follow God if there is anything else there in between you and the Holy One. 

            One of the things that has worried me most in the past year is to watch the church literally disintegrate in the wake of this pandemic. In years past when people were fearful and worried, they turned in droves to the church to find solace and comfort in the words that speak God’s holy peace to us. But that has not happened this time. The church has quarreled and fought against public safety requirements and defied logic and science altogether. Instead of being the source of comfort in the time of struggle, the churches have become the place where the disease spread the most in many places. 

            Frankly, I’m not all that convinced people are watching church online either. It’s a nice idea, but your worship should not come with a fast-forward button. Many churches have found themselves with only a third to a half of congregates returning and budgets crippled by the those who don’t continue to support because they’ve come to feel they don’t need the church. For the first time in my life and probably in yours, a majority of people say they feel fine without and do not need the church, and by extension, regular faith in their lives. Let that sink in for a moment. 

            We must return to being led by the light of Christ, not by our reaction to news media, not by our reaction to the political climate, not by our reaction to what we don’t like. The Wise Men journeyed and hastened hundreds of miles to Christ through tough terrain and bitter weather. They ignored Herod and his political evil. They journeyed with a message found in gifts. We, too, must journey with a gift—the gift of this Good News of a Savior. 

            The truth of the matter is that church and faith are not found watching a production on television, Facebook Live, or YouTube. They are not found in proudly defying science or safety or good sense, going against God’s will just to prove a point. Church and faith are found in people who call one another to check in, to pray, to share love and hope. Church and faith are found in people who step into the breach where there is suffering to heal, help, and restore. Don’t forget, Christ spent most of his ministry here healing and helping those in need and teaching those hungry for a word of hope. Church and faith are found in people all across their homes sharing bread and cup together and being united in Christ’s table wherever that table may be found for God can come to our worship where we are just as God comes here. 

            The church and faith are found where we take and shine the light of Christ in the world, for that too, is a gift given to us to share with the world. You might think it a bit odd for me to pick the hymn “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning.” It’s a bit older and somewhat obscure these days, but there’s a point to it. The story comes from the 1800s and inspired Philip Bliss to write the hymn. 

            Rev. Dwight L. Moody was preaching once and told a story about a ship on Lake Eerie near Cleveland, Ohio. It was dark that night and the waves were crashing hard from a storm. As the ship was battered back and forth, the Captain and Pilot were speaking. They both saw this one, lone light from a lighthouse on the shore and no other lights around it.  The Captain was perplexed and asked if they were at Cleveland. The Pilot responded he was sure of it. The struggle was that all they could see was the light at the top of the lighthouse. There were supposed to be lower lights along the shore lighting up where the rocks and hazards were, and to steer the ship away from danger and toward the big light from the lighthouse. Those lower lights had gone out. 

            The Pilot and Captain were sure they could manage the ship without the lower lights, but they miscalculated. The ship was hurled into the dark rocks because none of the lower lights were burning, and the journey ended in a fatality. Rev. Moody concluded with this, “Beloved the Master will take care of the great Lighthouse. Let us keep the lower lights burning.” God’s light, high in the heavens is still shining brightly as ever, but what about our lower lights here along the shore on Earth? Is there any light left there for others to find safety? 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/228097158806233

Christmas Lesson & Carols

Christmas Sermon: Isaiah 9:2-7; Titus 2: 11-14; Luke 2: 1-19

            “But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart,” from Luke 2: 19. I often wonder what Mary was pondering in her heart, and what thoughts were going through her head. If we look at a definition of “ponder,” the dictionaries say essentially that it means to think carefully or to think long and hard about something before coming to a decision or reaching a conclusion. I imagine in Mary’s heart she pondered the angel, her words of how this could be, the power and presence of the Holy Spirit in her life. 

            I wonder if she pondered the depth and power of the evil that would rise against her and soon crucify her child born of the Holy One. I wonder if she pondered the pain and suffering she would experience as a mother. I wonder if a mooing cow or nosy sheep interrupted her thoughts in the stable. And most of all I wonder if she came to a conclusion or if the pondering never stopped. 

We, too, are given a lot to ponder in our hearts about the birth of Christ, especially from these scriptures for today. For instance, we can ponder on the words of Titus 2:11, “for the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all.” That grace of God has appeared to all of us, brings us light and hope, and salvation in our lives. It’s grand and expansive welcome, this grace of God. I know we hear a lot about narrow the gate, but also wide is the welcome. Titus’s words say to all of humankind. Don’t be choosy where God has spoken and said that grace has appeared unto all. 

            We see this idea reflected even in the manger scene as told in Luke 2. There were shepherds who lived out in the fields and made their living simply by tending their herds. There were wisemen or kings, as the old song says, who came later on at epiphany to worship the Christ Child. There were angels watching. Joseph and Mary both poor and humble people from a outlier city considered rural and unimportant were present before the holy child. For goodness sakes, there were even barn animals in the stable. Everyone and everything was symbolically present for the birth of the holy child born to bring grace and salvation to the world. 

            Titus 2:13 also tells us about “looking for that blessed hope and glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.” All of these diverse people were called to the manger, but they had to choose to come. The shepherds had to choose to leave their flocks by night. The Magi had to choose to follow a star to something miraculous in the prophecies. Joseph and Mary had to trust to come to Bethlehem even as the trip was dangerous and long. All came looking for this blessed hope born in a manger. 

            And so, we see that God brought hope to earth, and in this hope Christ teaches us to live in peace with one another, to find joy in the most dismal of circumstances, and to welcome others with the same unconditional love which God gives us. I wonder if Mary pondered all these things—if she considered that as a person who was still held by the power of sin that she birthed a child who was perfect and holy and would bring grace and salvation even to her. 

            The questions for us, then, is do we still ponder in our hearts about following Christ? Do we still gather ourselves up like the shepherds and Magi and hasten to the manger and become moved by the Savior of the world? Do we trust like Mary? Do we obey like Joseph? Do we welcome all with the same grace of God as told to us in Titus 2? 

            Or if I may, let me challenge you a bit more, do we speak out against oppression and evil in this world? I’m not talking about going full-blown “John the Baptist,” but in small ways telling a friend not to use a foul name for someone. Telling someone making a certain joke is not funny. Telling someone to speak about and treat others with the dignity and respect that should be available to all of God’s creation. 

            I have a bit of a humbling story on my own self in this case. When I was in my early 20s it was popular to use the term “retarded” for something bad or negative. And one time, being young and dumb, I used the phrase, “That’s retarded.” A good friend of mine, standing next to me, whirled around and said, “My uncle lives with Down’s Syndrome. Don’t you ever, ever, use that phrase like that again. You need to apologize.” She stood up and protected her vulnerable uncle. She convicted me and offered grace all in the same instance, and I work now protecting vulnerable adults both as a job and as a ministry. That conviction and grace worked through me.

            So, may we all ponder in our heart like Mary did. May we think carefully and critically. But be careful! Don’t stop at just pondering, for pondering in one’s heart demands that a conclusion be reached. Accept that hope of Christ’s holy light and the grace that leads to salvation. Be changed in the power of Christ to live at peace with one another, to find unexplainable joy even as the evil and darkness rage about you, and to find a love which invites all to a relationship with God and God’s people and which welcomes those who are lost and broken in this life. Take a moment and let us ponder in our hearts, then let us prepare the rest of our lives to live it. Merry Christmas and Amen. 

 Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/1052275628623327/?notif_id=1608481431297602&notif_t=page_post_reaction&ref=notif

ADVENT III: JOY

The Light that Speaks Anew: Isaiah 64: 1-9; Matthew 1: 18-25

            Every year growing up in Harlan, Kentucky, they had a small craft, artisan, music festival or expo called “Mountain Masters.” It always took place right after Thanksgiving. You could go and buy homemade soaps, hand-woven baskets, things carved from coal, hear singing…and enjoy all manner of Appalachian-made goods. One of my favorites was the people who made pottery. It always seemed like so much fun to craft something out of a lump of what looked like mud and let one’s creativity run wild. 

            I decided once several years ago to try pottery and see how I liked it. I had failed at painting classes and photography, so this had to work, right? I was wrong. It was a colossal fail. Right as I made this beautiful something it fell apart and blobbed down into the floor. The pottery teacher shook his head and said, “You have no patience. You have to be ready to wait for something good.” 

            Every year at Advent I think on that lesson. Christmas is a fun and exciting time, but we can’t just jump right into the Christmas celebration. We have to live in that time of waiting and patiently looking for Christ. Advent reminds us that we must learn to wait, to learn patience with God’s plan in and for us and our world. Waiting and patience, though, are hard for us. I read an article that said, “Never pray for patience unless you want it tested.” They added that praying for patience was like putting a “kick me” sign on your back. 

            And yet, Advent is specifically about waiting for God’s plan to be enacted, and it reminds us to wait patiently for Jesus’s return in glory, or as Isaiah puts it, “Oh that you would burst from the heavens and come down!” I think 2020 has tested all of our collective ability to wait for Jesus to come back. I’m sure we’ve all had our moments of shouting to the sky, “Any moment now!” But waiting is important because it gives God’s plan time to work, and grow, and create a miracle. 

            Joseph had to play a tough waiting game. I am sure he was eager to marry Mary, his fiancé. There was excitement, hope, and thoughts of the future. Something derailed that plan, though. Mary was pregnant. We can assume from the scripture here that Joseph did not believe the whole story Mary told. The law provided that Joseph could publicly expose, humiliate, and destroy her. Joseph, though, was merciful and compassionate. He decided instead to quietly break the engagement and spare her the scorn. But God came in a dream to Joseph and told him to wait. 

            Joseph had to wait on his rash actions of putting her away. He had to wait on the marriage. He had to wait on intimacy with his wife. God’s plan had Joseph in a waiting pattern. It is never easy to wait for God to mold and make something new. So, the question becomes to us, then, how do we wait? 

            This is one of those few areas where the Bible isn’t particularly helpful in the how. We are told to do it, but not how to do it. A few verses are a bit more helpful than others. Psalm 27:14 says, “Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage, wait for the Lord.” Psalm 37:7 adds to that we should be still and not fret. Psalm 62:5 says to wait in silence within your soul. And the New Testament usually couches the idea of waiting and patience in terms of endurance and growth. There are a few snippets of advice, but nothing concrete. Those snippets say: silence, stillness, and courage. 

            We see Joseph willing to wait in patience after he hears God’s word speaking. Just like us waiting for Christ’s return, Joseph had to wait for that first coming before he could truly take Mary as his wife. Like her, he had to wait through the funny looks, the whispered concerns, and their society’s coldness. 

Jesus also gives the example of these three things: silence, stillness, and courage. He faced the cross in silence, never defending or arguing with his accusers. Isaiah reminds us that as a sheep led away is silent, he “opened not his mouth.” He faced the cross with stillness not fighting, rising up, or having the angels snatch him from the suffering. The Gospels remind us that he told Peter to lay down his sword. And he faced the cross, for us, with courage. Though he had a moment of overwhelming fear and dread in the garden, ultimately, Christ bore the cross with unmatchable strength and courage. 

            Christ’s example of waiting and doing is important because we see the coming power of Christ even in Joseph’s dream. The angels said to him, “You are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Jesus, or in Hebrew, Yeshua, was a fairly common name in Jesus’s day. It is translated as “to deliver” or “to rescue.” In this case, it is loosely translated as “God’s salvation.” In the very name of Jesus, we see the power, the work, and the hope we are waiting for: God’s salvation, when God would deliver us from the power and the pain of sin and call us God’s very own—the children of God. 

            Isaiah speaks to this miraculous work. Verse 5 says, “We are constant sinners; how can people like us be saved?” But Isaiah goes on to say we are the clay and God is the potter who forms us with the very power in God’s hand. That light of God’s molding and refining will work anew in us. Yes, God will shine a renewed light form us even in a pandemic. Yes, God will shine a renewed light from us even when we are blue at the holidays. Yes, God will shine a renewed light from us even when irritatingly dumb political ads infest our televisions, computers, and newspapers. Yes, God’s light shines anew in us, but we must start at the beginning—Advent—waiting for Christ to come and bring that light to us. 

            Maybe Advent reminds me a little of our family’s Christmas fruitcakes. You see they, too, require waiting. The cake is baked in November, around Thanksgiving, then wrapped and soaked with apple juice, [cough, cough—or brandy—cough, cough] until Christmas when it’s ready to eat. If you jump to the end process, you will have a dry and nasty cake that is practically inedible. Likewise, if you take up pottery making and don’t take the time to refine and sculpt your creation well, you will end up with a lump of junk. 

            A Christian who does not embrace waiting for Christ to come and work will either jump into a mess or be swallowed up by the darkness around us. Be still and know God. Be silent and let God’s Word be the meditation of your heart. Take heart and take courage, for Christ is still at work, and God is still the potter who molds and makes us stronger and more attuned to God’s will every day. So wait for the Lord, be strong, and let your heart take courage, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.  

Worship Video:  https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/812738219289518

Advent II: Peace

The Light Shines from Us: Psalm 89: 1-4, 19-26; Luke 1: 26-38

            Every single year just before Christmas, without fail, I walk up into this pulpit, and from Luke 1, I preach on the virtues of a poverty-level, unwed, teenage mother. Let’s not kid ourselves or sugarcoat what the scripture is saying here. Mary was likely a teenager—about fifteen or sixteen years old at the most—and she was engaged, not married, to Joseph. And now, she is about to be “with child.” Yes, her baby is God’s holy son, the Savior of the world, but imagine what it felt like for her to step out in public at seven or eight months with child, young, mostly alone, scared, and vulnerable. 

We are told in Matthew 1:9 that Joseph, “being a righteous man and not wanting to [publicly] disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly.” He didn’t want to cause her public disgrace or make a public example of her supposed sin, even thought this was no sin at all. Imagine the looks, the stares, and the fear that she might be arrested, shamed, or even threatened with death. That fear and embarrassment was caught in her spirit alongside the resolve to follow and do as God had called her. Those two things together left her, I’m sure, vulnerable and worried about the darkness that could overwhelm her from those who didn’t know and refused to understand her calling from God. 

We all have our moments and days of feeling vulnerable of worrying about the indignities which we may not be able to escape. Someone might have lived and struggled as an unwed, teenage mother. Someone might struggle with poverty, addiction, or life’s other worst bad habits. Someone might deal day in and day out with depression, suicidal thoughts, hopelessness. Someone may struggle with perfection or the belief that perfection exists in our world. Someone might struggle with growing older and realizing you may need someone to handle your money, change a diaper, help you remember those things which seem to be fading faster and faster each day. As humans we all have a personal struggle with our vulnerabilities whether they are similar or different to one another. 

Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, struggled with her own vulnerabilities and insecurities. She lived into her old age without having children. She was convinced this was an indictment of her as a woman, potential mother, and wife of the high priest, Zecheriah. And let’s not forget him, by any means. He challenged the angel Gabriel in the very Sanctuary of the Temple when told his elderly wife would have a child. He was silenced until the child was born because he doubted God’s word to him. Oh, and there’s David, from the Psalm we read, who is so highly praised: “My faithfulness and unfailing love will be with him and by my authority he will grow in power.” He’s hailed as king, conqueror, and mighty servant of the Lord. Yet he killed a man to steal his wife due to his ego and his lust. 

            None of us is immune from begin vulnerable or broken, from having our most ingrained fears and dread exposed like a raw nerve. We all will feel the same struggle that Mary likely endured. What will people think? Will my friends abandon me? Will my family still love and support me? Am I going to be terrified and embarrassed every time I’m in public? Will I be judged? The Bible doesn’t tell us what kind of suffering Mary endured. But I’m sure, at the very least, there were questions when she turned up pregnant, and the timing to her marriage was just a little off. 

            What do we do? I think the best example for us is in that last verse: “Mary responded, ‘I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.’” In that moment, she accepted it all: being the mother of the Holy Child, whatever good Jewish society might say and think, the pain of losing her child to the cross, knowing that even in the pain and pouring tears God still had a plan. Even though so much darkness and evil could come against her, she chose to let God work and let Christ’s holy light begin with and shine from her. 

            What about when we feel broken and vulnerable. How do we get that light shining in us again? It’s easy to read a story about Mary’s faith, but we still have to find our own faith and courage as well. There’s another reminder that is a bit more personal to us. In Matthew 1, where that Gospel announces the birth of Jesus, we are told the virgin will give birth to a son, and his name shall be called “Immanuel” which means, “God with us.” Think about that for a moment: Immanuel—God with us.

            Even as the darkness of life is around us, and we feel most vulnerable, we have this promise—God with us. A lady who had just lost her sister went to her pastor to find answers. As she became more and more upset over the pain in her life she cried out, “Why won’t God fix this for me, can’t God just take away my pain and be done with it!?” The pastor thought for a moment and said quietly, “In life we will have both amazing joy and unbearable pain. It is the nature of life that we enjoy or endure through both. We will experience both times of great strength and times of great vulnerability. The truth is God is with us in each of those times—both rejoicing with us and crying with us. For God is not like a pain medicine which leaves the dangerous wound and only takes away the pain; instead, God is the healer who heals and mends you even as you may still hurt. God may not spare you the pain, but he will heal you of the cause of that pain.” [1]

            Mary lived both of those truths. God worked a miracle in and through her, bringing salvation into the world through her obedience to God’s word. But Mary still had to live her life as a poor young lady. She lived in a rural, backwards town and was a young, unwed, teenage mother and lived all the scorn and stigmas from people who did not know better what God was doing. Zechariah was a holy priest, living the answered prayers of a son to be born in his and Elizabeth’s old age, but he still bore the months of silence which marked his disbelief in God. David was God’s anointed king, probably closer to God than almost any other king of Israel. And yet he, too, fell short in his life—mighty king, adulterer, and murderer all in one. Yet each and all of the people were still given God’s grace, God’s forgiveness, and still shined the light of God’s glory. 

            Christmas is an amazing time of year with joy, hope, celebration and all of the “merry” things. But there always seems to be a darkness, a pain, or a stifled tear lurking in the shadows of our souls from past troubles, burdens we bear, or worries to come. Remember that our God is a God who gives us endurance but not necessarily an easy road. God heals us, but we may still have to live with the pain as we heal. But in all of life, we never lose that grace-filled Christmas promise that whatever happens or wherever we go, we have this: Immanuel, God with us.  

[1] Thank you to Rev. Morris Wood for the inspiration that served as the basis for this story. 

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/390811685533275

ADVENT I: HOPE

ADVENT I: Witness to the Light-- Isaiah 6: 1-4, 8-11; John 1: 6-8, 19-28

            Witnesses can be tricky. A few years ago, I was preparing a case for trial. I called the witnesses in to review what they had seen and heard. The first witness said she clearly remembered the bad guy. He was a tall white guy, over 6’, and slender, bald and clean shaven. I was thrilled with this clear description. The second witness came in and described the bad guy for me. He said the guy was olive-complected, maybe Hispanic, around 5’8”, chubby, and clean shaven with unkempt hair. I was confused. Had they seen the same thing? What was the problem here? I pulled up the bad guy’s picture and information. He was African American with a large beard. I learned a valuable lesson that day about witnesses. 

            God, we read, sent John the Baptist to be a witness to the coming light of Christ. But there are a few things we must remember and look at when it comes to being witnesses to the light of Christ. First, witnesses are tricky and unreliable. Second, as witnesses, we must proclaim God’s message boldly and clearly. Lastly, we bring a message of good news to those who need it in this world. 

            First, witnesses can be tricky and unreliable. When John began to preach and baptize in the wilderness, the Jewish leaders sent Temple assistants and priests to come and find out what is supposed to be a rather simple question: “Who are you?” It went a little bit like a comedy routine, I believe. They asked who he was, and his answer was that he is not the Messiah. But still, who is this man? So, they ask again who John is, asking if maybe he is the great prophet Elijah. His reply is no, but still no real answer. Finally, they ask if he’s the prophet they are expecting? Again, he says, “No.” I am sure they are beside themselves by now. 

            So, now they demand to know who this person is preaching and baptizing in the desert. His reply is, “I am a voice shouting in the wilderness, ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming.’” This has to be the most frustrating and obscure answer John could give. What does this mean? Technically, it means he’s a witness. He lays the groundwork and sets the stage of what happened. But because it’s a prophetic witness, he doesn’t tell what has happened; instead, he tells what is to come. The Messiah is coming. Get yourselves ready. 

            We, too, are witnesses who must proclaim God’s message boldly and clearly—and never unreliably. Just as John the Baptist was the voice shouting in the wilderness, we live and speak as witnesses in our own modern wilderness here and now where we live. New Zealand author Winkie Pratney writes, “Every day you are witnessing. What are you witnessing to? Your witness is the total package of your attitudes, character, and actions. It does not lie.” Our lives and our behaviors tell a story—and hopefully that is the story of Christ in us. 

            In the Gospel, it says that John was not the light, but that he was simply a witness to it, to tell about it to the world. It’s a bit different for us. John lived before Christ’s death and resurrection. We live into Christ’s death and resurrection. Whereas John could only speak about the light of Christ, we LIVE in the light of Christ because Christ is in us and with us. 

            I have watched, in this pandemic, the witness of Christians become more and more unreliable as the light of Christ is dimmed and obscured. There is nothing wrong with safety precautions when there is a dangerous illness. There is nothing wrong with staying home to be safe and to protect others. I believe it is a Christian duty to heal, help, and keep others safe. However, just because we are distanced physically and quarantined socially does not mean we should be silent about God’s love. 

            As reliable witnesses we must tell the story of Christ’s love which heals and saves and brings peace in troubled times! Just because we are surrounded by dark and dreary times does not mean that Christ has stopped loving us, has removed his presence from us, or will not continue to send his life-giving light and spirit to us. We must proclaim to people to be safe and to keep others safe, but also not to lose heart for God is love, and God’s love continues to heal every person and place of the despair and evil that reigns. Every action and behavior we take should testify to God’s love, God’s peace, and God’s welcome for all people. 

            Lastly, when we witness, we bring a message of good news to those who need it. Isaiah writes, “I am overwhelmed with joy in the Lord my God!” Isaiah proclaimed a message of hope at a difficult time in Judah’s history. The Assyrians were attacking and nearing destruction of Jerusalem. King Hezekiah was forced to submit to the Assyrian army and morale in the nation was very, very low. Into this despair, Isaiah spoke words of God showing justice and righteousness sprouting up like a plant. Isaiah starts this section with this, “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me, for the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted and to proclaim the captives will be released and prisoners…freed.” 

            Isaiah prophesied words of hope and comfort. He provided a reliable witness of good news—that includes restoration and hope for a destroyed Judah. But ultimately that did not happen in Isaiah’s lifetime. After the death of King Hezekiah, King Manasseh came to the throne, and in his wickedness, had Isaiah martyred, according to tradition. And yet the good news of Isaiah’s message lives on. In particular it comes alive each time we celebrate the baby born in the manger and when the voice in the wilderness heralds the coming of a Messiah, the hope of the world, the Prince of Peace.  

            Good news does not end simply because the days are dark. I listened to a story recently of a man named Jacob who was to be tempted by one of the Devil’s minions. Jacob was already poor in worldly things but strong in spirit. The devil’s minion tries every way he can to crush Jacob into submission, but it was all to no end. Jacob lived as a testimony to his neighbors of God’s love and goodness enduring even in the most horrendous times they were experiencing. But suddenly, the minion had a new plan. He made Jacob wealthy beyond his wildest hopes, great crops, great money, and plenty of good drink. Jacob loses his mind in the riches and ends up sinning against God and committing murder drunk on liquor and the riches of life. He traded the good news for nice things and forgot his God’s goodness even in the little things. 

            Sometimes we are witnesses that little is much when God is in it, and that God is present bringing hope and peace in the darkest of days. Sometimes we are prophetic witnesses reminding people to give thanks to God even when the blessings are great and many. But either way we are witnesses who must, every day, reliably and boldly proclaim God’s love, grace, and welcome to the world. Do not lose heart, and do not silence your voices in despair. Continue to proclaim, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel!” for it is Christ who brings hope to a weary world. 

WORSHIP VIDEO: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/209033637403684/

Thanksgiving Sermon

Please and Thank You, Ma’am: Deut. 8: 7-18; Luke 17: 11-19

            The other day, and with Thanksgiving upon us, I was asked, “So, Will, what are you thankful for?” I stopped and got this kind of far off look. Instantly I could feel my blood pressure rise a bit and that sarcasm well up from deep within. I thought about a few things I could say I’m thankful for, for instance: that I only have a couple of furlough days instead of thirty, that I’ve gotten a lot (and I mean a lot) more time at home, that only three or four of my close friends and church family have died of Covid, cancer or other problems in the past months. Maybe, after all, I’m not all that grateful this year. I feel, instead, a little bitter. 

            Maybe all of us feel a little less than grateful this year. There really are a lot of things going on in our days and lives that make life hard for some and unbearable for others. I think that’s why the parable for today can speak to us. It’s about more than just healing and the return of one healed leper. There’s a depth of meaning and message we need to look at when it comes to how we should be grateful even in our time of trials. 

            We start with Jesus traveling towards Jerusalem in a rather roundabout way. On the road, ten lepers call out to him. They call, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” In those days, leprosy was a horrible disease which slowly destroyed the body and left people in severe pain and physical brokenness. In addition to physical suffering there was also a social suffering as well. Because leprosy could be contagious and was considered, frankly, gross, people who suffered from it were excluded from the city, from life, family, and all of society. They usually ended up alone and as beggars. 

            Perhaps we can relate to being alone and struggling? They were haunted by a horrible disease and forced into isolation as a result. That probably hits us a bit close to home in 2020. In Deuteronomy we also read about the suffering of the Israelite people. We are told they endured the wilderness, death, hunger, thirst, snakes, scorpions. The wilderness is not an easy place, and they wandered in it for decades. 

            Paul, also, was no stranger to suffering and struggle. He was beaten, thrown into jail, run out of places he preached. He had rivals that tried to undo all of his ministry in the churches he established. He even took up a monetary collection to help the saints in Jerusalem who were on hard times. They ended up arresting him when he preached in their temple. Jesus, too, went around preaching love, welcome, peace with one another. They killed him. Truly God’s people are no strangers to suffering. And all of that can make us, well, not very grateful this Thanksgiving. And I believe that ungratefulness is justified. 

            However, look back at that parable again. One out of the ten whom Jesus healed came back to him and gave thanks. He made the effort, trekked back from the Temple and the priests and thanked Jesus for healing him. This man was a Samaritan. This adds a wrinkle. Samaritans and Jews did not get along. Samaritans were considered foreigners, outcasts, and socially beneath the Jewish majority in the area. While all the other nine would likely go back to whatever life they had before, this Samaritan would still likely be socially unaccepted. The one who came back and gave Jesus thanks had less to gain than all the others Jesus healed. So what was different about him? 

            We look back at Deuteronomy and there’s a reminder to the people. Yes, they had to suffer through the misery of the wilderness, but we are told that God led them out of slavery in Egypt; furthermore, in verse 15, “Do not forget that [God] led you through the great and terrifying wilderness with its poisonous snakes and scorpions, where it was so hot and dry.” Over and over they are reminded God fed them manna, God gave them water from the rock, God helped, God provided, and God met their needs. And the people were ungrateful. They forgot their gratefulness when times were good, and they complained when the circumstances were tough. They were not very grateful people. 

            So, what example do we follow? The Samaritan endured leprosy, social exclusion, and dislike simply because of who he was and where he was born. And yet in all of that he had a heart for gratefulness. Paul suffered so much in his ministry for God to the point that it would make one tear one’s hair out. And yet we read over and over where he talks about being grateful, being joyful, and being content in what God gives us. Maybe one of the best ways to sum it up is to look at the words of a well-known hymn. 

            Horatio Spafford lost the bulk of his family to a devastating fire and a shipwreck. He was left in misery, personal suffering, and mental anguish. His faith, however, was not shaken. Even as he sailed over the spot where his children drowned in the shipwreck, he penned these words, “Whate’er my lot, Thou has taught me to say, ‘It is well, it is well with my soul.” Even as so much had been robbed from him, he was still able to count his blessings and be grateful to God for those blessings. 

            Christ, too, was no stranger to the struggle of life. He left the splendor of heaven to be human, to feel pain, hunger, temptation, and death. Being human was no walk in the park to the One who is holy, but Christ came and died for us, to save us, to set right was broken in the world by the power of sin. His death wasn’t easy, and the knowledge that he would be resurrected probably didn’t make the suffering any easier. You know, we dwell a lot on Christ’s sacrifice, death, and resurrection. I wonder, though, if we ever dare to ask this question: “is Christ grateful?” Do we make Christ grateful for the struggle? 

            I will never forget visiting a friend’s house shortly before Thanksgiving. It was a pre-Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving, if you will. There were several folks there, and my friends have a cute daughter who was about 3 or 4 at the time. While everything was getting finished, she was sitting at a little desk scribbling furiously on some papers. After dinner she came around to every single guest at the house and gave us a piece of folded paper. It had a picture on the front that she had drawn, and inside was a scrawled phrase, “Please and thank you, Ma’am.” 

            I later learned that she was so happy everyone had come to her house that she had written us all thank you notes. Her grandmother regularly told her to say “please and thank you, ma’am,” so that was the only phrase she could think of to put in the cards. She didn’t cook the meal, message the invites, and only helped a little on the clean-up, but she still wanted everyone to know how grateful she was simply to have them there. 

            Maybe gratefulness isn’t really connected to how good things are around us in this moment and time. Maybe being grateful means that we know we don’t control a pandemic, life and death, or what tomorrow holds. Being grateful might look a lot more like summoning up just enough hope and resolve to say, “It is well with my soul.” Maybe even to be grateful we don’t really have to have a reason at all. It might just be enough that Christ loved us and, I believe, is grateful for us.  

Worship Video: https://www.facebook.com/fccmacon/videos/183379843381097