Sermons

 February 19, 2012--"The_Journey: On the Mountain"--Mark 9:2-9

“The Journey: On the Mountain”— Mark 9:2-9

 

            Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

            As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

 

            A man purchased a parrot and for five years tried in vain to get it to talk. He read books on the subject; he talked to it constantly; he even bought tapes and CDs for the bird to listen to, hoping that something would encourage it to talk, but nothing helped. Finally the man became totally disgusted with the parrot and decided to take it back to the pet store. But as he was crossing the street, he failed to see a car coming right at them. The parrot saw it, however, and yelled to its owner, “Look out!” But the owner didn’t listen. The car hit him and knocked him to the ground, but fortunately he was only slightly bruised. He got up, brushed himself off, and kept muttering about all the problems caused by “that dumb parrot.” Whereupon the parrot said, “Who’s dumb? For five years you’ve tried to get me to talk, and then when I do, you won’t listen!”

            Hearing is one of the senses God gave us, part of the way in which, as the Psalmist says, we are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” Listening, however, is an art, even a gift, I think. It’s part of our selfishness and self-centeredness that we are such poor listeners—we tend to be more focused on what we have to say and what we want to hear than on what someone else is trying to say to us. Consequently, our relationships struggle because we don’t listen to one another. I saw a cartoon that showed a married couple, standing on a hill and watching a sunset, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist. The wife says, “Oh, honey, isn’t beautiful?” The husband says, “About five-thirty.” But before you ladies begin elbowing your husbands and saying, “See, I told you—men don’t listen!” I’ve found women to be just as guilty. I’ve been frustrated over the years in talking with individuals, committees, even whole churches, because I’ve felt as if they weren’t listening—it’s been a one-sided conversation. But, because my hypocrisy has its boundaries, I’ll readily confess that I am not always the best of listeners—I can be just as guilty of thinking ahead about what I’m going to say and so insistent on being right that I don’t listen to what someone else is saying. I can’t help but wonder what our relationships might be like if we went beyond just hearing and actually listened to one another!

            I wonder as well what our relationship with Jesus might be if we listened—I mean, really listened—to him! There’s a story in the Old Testament about the prophet Samuel, who as boy was given by his parents into the care of Eli the priest to serve the Lord at the sanctuary at Shiloh in fulfillment of a vow. One night the boy Samuel heard a voice calling his name. Assuming it was Eli, the boy went to him, but Eli said he hadn’t called him. This happened several times, and finally Eli discerned that the Lord was speaking to Samuel, and he told him that when the voice spoke again, he was to answer, “Speak, Lord—I’m listening.” Unfortunately, many of us get that backward—instead of “Speak, Lord, I’m listening,” we say, “Listen, Lord—I’m speaking!” We want to define the terms and conditions of faithful living, to tell God what we’re going to do and how we’re going to do it, to decide what it means to be a disciple of Jesus.

But, on the Mount of Transfiguration, the Voice from Above says, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Did you get that? Listen to him! God says, don’t just hear what my Son is saying—listen to what he says!

            So what does it mean to listen to Jesus? How do we listen to him? Let me suggest very quickly three steps to listening effectively to Jesus.

            First, we do indeed need to hear what Jesus is saying. Now, as I’ve said so many times before, the skies usually don’t open up and the voice of Jesus doesn’t usually thunder down—if it did, my work would be so much easier. But Jesus the Word speaks to us through the Word—the Holy Scriptures. In the words of the Bible we find what we need to know to live faithfully before God and with others. But until we actually open the Bible—whether it’s a book, by tape or CD, or on some electronic device—until we actually encounter the Word, we can’t really begin to hear what Jesus is saying to us.

            Of course, there are other ways that Jesus speaks to us. Occasionally I’ve said, somewhat tongue in cheek, that Jesus sometimes speaks to me when I’m in the shower (I found out this week that I’m not the only one!). But I’ve often felt, not an audible impulse from Jesus, but an urging of the heart, a compulsion from the Spirit to do or say something in the name and power of Jesus. I’ve often heard the voice of Jesus speaking through others—indeed, it was the combination of what Jesus was saying to me through others and the urgings of the Spirit in my heart that I heard my call to ordained ministry. But until we are open to hearing what Jesus says to us, whether it’s through the Scriptures, through the urgings of the Spirit, through others speaking to us the message, and, yes, even through audible messages, we can’t listen to Jesus!

            Then, I believe if we really we want to listen to Jesus, we need to understand what he’s saying. Now, sometimes what Jesus is saying is abundantly clear, as we encounter him in the Word, as he speaks through the urgings of the Spirit, or as he speaks to us through others. I may have shared with you before the story of how, one day many years back, I was in the car when the name of the sister of a couple of my members popped into my head and just wouldn’t go away. I understood very quickly that I needed to lift up a prayer for this woman, so I did. And when I got back to the church and called one of the sisters (this was in the days before cell phones), she said, “How did you know to pray? My sister’s been going through a rough time!” Sometimes what Jesus is saying to us is abundantly clear.

            But sometimes we need some help figuring it out, and that’s where the community of faith—our sisters and brothers in Jesus—become so valuable to us. When we feel that Jesus is saying something to us, whether it’s through the Scriptures, through the urgings of the Spirit, or through the voices of others, but we’re not quite clear what the message is, we should be able to turn to other faithful Christians, invite them to study and pray with us and help us discern what’s being said—for if God is a God of order and not chaos (which I believe he is), then he’s not going to give one person one message and then another person another message. I believe that if we’re faithful to the task of seeking what Jesus is trying to say to us, we’ll eventually be very clear about what that message is.

            This is true especially when entire communities of faith—whole churches—are struggling with important, far-reaching and transforming decisions. I once read a story about a congregation that was faced with an important decision and chose to make the decision, not by a majority vote, but through prayer and discernment, looking to achieve unanimity of belief about where Jesus would have them to go as a church on this matter. The matter was put before the congregation in “yes or no” format, with the instruction that the members were to pray for a definite period of time—a couple of weeks—and then return to report what they felt Jesus was saying. After a couple of cycles, almost everyone was in agreement about what they felt Jesus was saying, except for one woman, who very strongly felt Jesus was saying something else. There were many who thought she was wrong—after all, how could everyone else understand one message and she another?—but because they had agreed to being unanimous, the church continued in the process until, believe it or not, everyone else heard what the woman had heard and all believed that this was the direction Jesus meant for them to go.

            Now, I mention that to say this—I hope that, as we are continuing in our “congregational conversation” about whether or not we should have a contemporary worship service on Sunday mornings along with a traditional worship service, we are praying and listening for what Jesus would have us do. For, you see, this is not about whether traditional or contemporary worship is the better way to worship—as I see it, neither is better; each is a way, not the way, of worshipping God. It’s not about personal preference—the truth is that each of us has a preferred style of worship, but we’re not going to gain anything by trying to convert others from one style to another. It’s not about what I want or what any one person wants or what any group wants. It’s about what Jesus would have us do to help us become a healthier, more vibrant, more vital community of faith. And the only way we’re going to do that is by each of us trying to understand, through prayer, what Jesus is trying to say to all of us as his church in this place.

            So we hear what Jesus is saying to us, through our encounters with him through the Scriptures, through the urgings of the Spirit, through his speaking to us through others, and sometimes even through audible revelations. And then we try to understand what Jesus is saying to us when the message isn’t abundantly clear by turning to our sisters and brothers in the faith. But, if we’re really listening to Jesus, we’re going to do what he says! We all know that verse from the Letter of James that reminds us, “Be doers of the word and not hearers only.” So it seems to me that, until we actually act on what Jesus is saying to us, we haven’t really listened to him!

            So, when we hear Jesus saying to us, as he does in Mark 8:34-36,

 

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

 

it seems to me that we need to find out what our cross is—remembering that the cross is suffering for Jesus that we take up voluntarily, even as Jesus took up the cross voluntarily for our sakes—and then we go wherever that cross is leading us. If we don’t, we may have heard Jesus, but we didn’t listen to him.

            And when we hear Jesus says to us, as he says in Mark 10:42-45,

 

You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them.But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.

 

it seems to me that our focus is not on power or position, but on how we can best serve Jesus by serving others, by putting the needs and concerns of others before our own needs and concerns. How can we build up others rather than build up ourselves? Just as Jesus gave himself for us, so he calls us to give ourselves for others. And if we’re not doing that, we’re not listening to Jesus.

            Well, we’ve come to the end of the last sermon in this series on “The Journey,” but the journey isn’t finished—from the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus moves on toward Jerusalem: toward betrayal, toward suffering, toward the cross, but also toward the empty tomb. But on the mountain, the disciples witnessed something incredibly holy, something incredibly powerful. On the mountain, God spoke and said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.” God says the same thing to us today: “Listen to him.” We’re not just to hear what Jesus says, however, he says it, but we’re also to understand it and then do it—for when we hear, understand, and do, we’re listening to Jesus. Dear God, make it so for all of us!

“The Journey: In the Country”—Mark 1:40-45

 

            A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, “I do choose. Be made clean!” Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, saying to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.

 

            To say that my Little League Baseball career was less than stellar would be an overstatement—in fact, it was quite dismal! As many of you know, Little League rules require that everyone has to play at least two innings (back in the day, we didn’t have a mercy rule, so we played six innings regardless of the score). I generally sat on the bench for the first four innings and went into right field for the last two, that being the time and place where I could do the least amount of damage. And when it came to hitting, the batting average our manager posted for me was .098—the reality, however, was that my batting average was .000; I never had a base hit, and the only way I got on base was by a walk or by being hit by a pitch. I never even put the ball in play until one bright Saturday morning. We had a runner on third and less than two outs—I can’t remember exactly. I don’t even remember the count—what I do remember is that the pitch came in, I swung, I made contact, and the ball was in play. Now, if you’re thinking I hit a home run, you’re going to be disappointed, because it wasn’t even a base hit—it was grounder to the shortstop. I remember standing in the batter’s box and saying, “I hit it! I hit it!” while everyone else was screaming, “Run! Run!” And finally I did, and I was out by a mile. But the runner on third scored, and I had an RBI—a run batted in—to my credit. Did we win the game? I don’t remember—what I do remember is that my teammates were proud of me, and the manager and the coach were proud of me, and I was proud of myself: I had finally put a ball in play.

            Now, here’s where this story is going: as I rode my bicycle home from the game (which you could do in Coronado, California), I would shout to everyone I saw, whether I knew them or not, “I hit the ball!” The moment I walked in the door, I told my mother and sister (my dad was out to sea at the time), “I hit the ball!” And for days on end, I told everyone who would listen and everyone who would not, “I hit the ball!” You see, for me, this was big news—it was good news, and good news is meant to be shared!

            The last few months of 2011 were exciting ones for our family. Allison finished her internship and officially graduated from college, started in a job almost immediately, and then received the Student of the Year Award from the Georgia Association on Young Children. But you knew all this already, didn’t you? Why? Because we had told you! And why did we tell you? Because it was good news, and good news is meant to be shared!

            Fortunately, we’re not alone in sharing good news. So many of you have told us about engagements, graduations, jobs, children and grandchildren on the way, children and grandchildren born, and all sorts of other wonderful happenings in your lives. One of the things I like about Facebook and other social media is that they provide a way of telling others about what’s happening with us, especially the good things. (Of course, other stuff gets shared, too—but we’re not going to get into that!) The point is that you have good news, and good news is meant to be shared!

            So you can imagine how easy it was for this leper who had been healed by Jesus to disregard his stern warning not to say anything to anyone about it. You see, this leper had really good news to share! Not only had he been healed physically, but now he was able to rejoin the society around him—as a leper, he was forced to live apart from others and even to announce, when people approached, that he was unclean. And now, having been healed, he could once again participate in the religious life of the community—as a leper, he was excluded from the community of faith because he was unclean according to the Mosaic Law; he couldn’t join in the worship and teaching life of the synagogue. This leper who had been healed had good news, and good news is meant to be shared!

            Do we have good news that needs to be shared? Of course we do! Although we don’t always acknowledged it, God in Jesus and in the power of the Holy Spirit is doing some powerful works in our midst, and that’s good news, and good news is meant to be shared! Can I share some of that good news with you?

            Last Sunday afternoon, some of our young adults got together to discuss to discuss ways our church can better reach individuals and couples between the ages of 20 and 40. I chose not to be present at that meeting, because I felt my presence would inhibit the discussion, but I fully endorsed the idea. I’ve read the report of the meeting, and I’m impressed at the thought these young adults gave to the issue. But here’s the really good news, for me at least: the young adults did this of their own accord! No one from the staff said, “You need to do this”; as far as I know, no one from outside the group said anything about doing it—they chose to take this step toward helping the church to become healthier and grow, both spiritually and numerically. That’s good news, and good news needs to be shared!

            One of the things we do best at Wilmington Island United Methodist Church is missions, particularly local missions. Even when it’s not our turn to provide the noon meal, we have members of our congregation who go every Sunday to the People Helping People ministry to the homeless at Forsyth Park—and when it is our turn to provide the meal, we always have a gracious plenty in terms of food and helpers. And the leadership of that ministry knows that, in a pinch, they can turn to us for assistance.

            We had a number of people from our church who participated yesterday in the Love Walk for Wesley Community Center, and, while I don’t have a more recent figure, the last number I heard was that we had raised $1200-plus as part of the total figure of $20,000-plus raised. Of course, we are a “go-to” church as far as Wesley Community Center is concerned—when they have a need, they know they can count on us, because, believe it or not, not every United Methodist Church in Savannah really supports that ministry.

            This past week was our Host Week for Interfaith Hospitality Network, and while we didn’t have any families with us this time, people in this church were at the ready to provide meals and hospitality for families who were in transition concerning something we take so much for granted—a place to live.

            There is support that flows from this church for other ministries that help the needy in our area, some of which I don’t even know about. The point is that God is doing something powerful in our midst when it comes to helping others. That’s good news, and good news needs to be shared!

            And I’m sure that, if I were to open the floor to what we used to call “testimony,” there would stories you would share with all of us about some way in which Jesus has touched or is touching your life. Now, we may be a little reluctant to tell those stories, for a variety of reasons I won’t get into—but the point is that Jesus is doing something wonderful, something transforming, in our lives. That’s good news, and good news needs to be shared!

            Yes, good news needs to be shared, and we need to share it with one another. For a couple of years now I’ve been saying that we do indeed have all sorts of good things going on in this church, but we don’t know about them because we don’t share them with one another. Now, I’ve heard people say, “Well, we don’t want to boast about what we’re doing.” And if we were the ones doing it, I’d agree. But the truth is that it’s not really us doing these ministries—it’s really God in Jesus and in the power of the Holy Spirit working through us to touch people’s lives, to help those in need, to fulfill Jesus’ saying that “even as you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.” We need to share what we’re doing with one another, to celebrate what Jesus is doing through us, to encourage one another to even greater works, to get us all excited about what Jesus has done, is doing, and will do in and through us. If it’s boasting, then let it be boasting in the Lord, as the Apostle might say! But we’ve got good news, and good news needs to be shared—we need to share it with one another in the community of faith!

            But we’ve got good news, and we need to share it beyond the walls of our church as well. I sincerely believe that there are a lot of people today who are looking for more than just a Savior—they are looking for ways to make their faith in that Savior real by serving others, helping to meet physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. We as individuals and we as the church need to figure out the best ways to let people outside of our congregation know that Wilmington Island United Methodist Church is a place where people can not only grow spiritually themselves, but also that we provide opportunities for people to get beyond themselves to help others. We can use all sorts of marketing strategies, for lack of better terms, but maybe the best strategy of all is inviting people to be a part of some ministry in which we’re engaged—maybe someone will come to Jesus by getting involved in ministry, rather than coming to Jesus and then getting involved in ministry. Who knows? It works both ways. The point is that we need to share our good news beyond the walls of those who already gather here.

            The one thing I hope we all can share, however, whether it’s with one another or with those outside our congregation, is that we are sinners saved by grace, that we are people separated from God by sin who have been reconciled to him through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. It’s the one common story we all have, and we need to share it with one another, and we need to share beyond the walls of the church. Each of us needs to find some way of being able to say to someone else, “Here’s what Jesus has done—here’s what Jesus is doing—in my life. Will you let Jesus do something in your life?” If the good news that Jesus is our Lord and Savior doesn’t excite us so much that we just have to tell others about it, then maybe we need to spend some time with the Savior and ask him to re-kindle the flame within us, to excite us and inspire us and energize us so that we can tell the world around us—that is, the people around us—the best news of all: that Jesus is Lord! That’s good news, and good news needs to be shared!

            Out in the country, a leper was healed by Jesus, but he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Jesus told him not to say anything about it, but the leper didn’t listen—he told everyone he met that Jesus of Nazareth had made him whole. And from that testimony, others went to Jesus so that he could make them whole, too. We’ve got good news—the good news of what Jesus has done in our lives and in this congregation—and good news needs to be shared! As we go from this place into the country we call Wilmington Island and Savannah, let’s put aside our inhibitions and our mind-sets and simply tell others what Jesus has done for and through us, as individuals and as a congregation. We’ve got good news, and good news needs to be shared—so let’s share it!

 

“The Journey: At the House”—Mark 1:29-39

 

            As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.

            That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

            In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

 

            At the end of the morning worship service, the preacher said, "Anyone with 'special needs' who wants to be prayed over, please come to the altar." With that, Tyrone got in line. When it was his turn, the preacher asked, "Tyrone, what do you want me to pray about for you?" Tyrone replied, “Preacher, I need you to pray for help with my hearing." The preacher put one finger of one hand in Tyrone's ear, placed his other hand on top of Tyrone's head, and then prayed and prayed and prayed. He prayed a "blue streak" for Tyrone, and the whole congregation joined in with great enthusiasm. After a few minutes, the preacher removed his hands, stood back and asked, "Tyrone, how is your hearing now?" Tyrone answered, "I don't know, man. It ain't 'til next week."

            Now, whether Tyrone’s story is real or apocryphal, I can’t say. But this one is true. When I was serving Asbury Church in Appling County, I received a call one afternoon from Gwen, one of my members. She explained that one of her hired hands, who was Hispanic, was dying of cancer, and his wife, who spoke no English, was frantically pointing at something in her Bible. Could I come over to their house and figure out what was going on?

            It took me just a couple of minutes to get to the house, and, just as Gwen said, the man’s wife was speaking Spanish and pointing frantically at her Bible. Now, I had three years of Spanish in high school, but that had been a thousand years before, so I really had no clue what the lady was saying. I asked if I could look at her Bible, and when she handed it over, I began a little bit of detective work. The passage she kept pointing to was toward the back of the Bible, so I knew it was in the New Testament—a good starting point. Then I saw the name of the book—“Diego.” I rolled it around in my brain for a moment, and then the answer came: she was pointing to a passage in the Letter of James, specifically James 5:14: “Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord.” Then I saw that the woman had some oil on hand, and, as I prayed over her husband, I made the sign of the Cross on his forehead. Now, I wish I could tell you that the man rose up from his sick-bed and was whole in body and spirit, but I can’t—in fact, he died a couple of days later. Yet I believe that he was healed—as some of you have heard me say at funerals, death can be and often is God’s way of relieving suffering that has gone beyond the abilities of mere mortals to alleviate. Was the man’s wife looking for a miracle? I don’t know—what I do know is that when and how and why God chooses to act is beyond our comprehension and cannot be manipulated by anything we say or do.

            Now, this whole idea of “healing” is a sensitive subject among some Christians. Part of it has to do, I think, with the spectacle that some healing services have become. Part of it has to do, I think, with the mistaken notion that God only heals in one way—that is, in miraculous, physical manifestations. And part of it has to do, I think, with the chicanery that has marked the operations of some so-called healers.

            So, what do we do with this whole idea of healing? Let’s begin by affirming that God does indeed do miracles, that some people have truly been blessed with the spiritual gift of healing, and that inexplicable physical healing can occur. One of our members, Eddie Branan, will testify that he was miraculously healed of stomach cancer, as people all over the country prayed for him. Some of you may have similar testimonies, or perhaps can tell of someone you know who has been healed miraculously. Miracles happen, and we need to affirm that!

            But let’s also affirm that God does his healing in his own time and in his own way, and that no amount of prayer, fasting, anointing, or whatever can manipulate God into doing what we want. For us to believe that, if we just say the right things or do the right things, God just has to do what we want is to turn us into magicians; it says that God is subject to us, rather than our being subject to God. God does what he does to suit his purposes, not ours, and the two are not always the same. God is in control, not us!

            But let’s also affirm that God provides many ways of healing with a number of healers, because we are broken on so many levels. We tend to think of “healing” in terms of the physical alone, and God has provided healers for those who are broken physically—God has gifted doctors and nurses and other healthcare professionals with knowledge and wisdom and skill. Perhaps they don’t always recognize the Giver, but that doesn’t make their gifts or their work any less the gifts or work of God. But we can be broken in other ways—emotionally and mentally, spiritually, and relationally. Yet once again a loving God has provided knowledgeable, wise, and skilled people to help us to find the healing and wholeness he wants us to have. Counselors and therapists, ministers and strong spiritual friends, even those who can offer nothing more than a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on—all these are ministers of God’s healing grace to us. Our bodies may be well, but our hearts and minds and relationships may not be whole—yet our God, who loves and cares about us as whole beings, offers us ways, through his grace, to be made whole.

            Our Service of Healing today is not intended to be a spectacle—there won’t be anyone knocking you on the forehead or blowing in your face or whatever. The invitation is simply to kneel or stand at the chancel rail after you’ve communed. There will be someone to pray with you, if you wish. And, if you’d like to receive the anointing of the Cross, that will be done. The main thing, however, is simply being open to the healing that our Father brings us through his Son Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit.

            At the house of Simon and Andrew, Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in-law and others who were brought to him. Then, as he moved on throughout Galilee, he brought healing and wholeness to others. Today, in this place that we call the house of the Lord, let God’s healing come to you, and give thanks to God!

“The Journey: At the Synagogue”—Mark 1:21-28

 

            They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came he entered the aynagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!” And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

 

            Back in 1984, singer Ray Stevens released a song written by C.W. Kalb, Jr., and Carlene Kalb called “The Mississippi Squirrel Revival.” It tells the story of what happened when a boy snuck a squirrel he had caught into church in a shoe box. As he was trying to show it to a buddy, the squirrel escaped and created pandemonium in the congregation—as the song says, “Some thought it was heaven, others thought it was hell.” But the poor, half-crazed squirrel’s antics were, according to the song, God’s instruments of putting “that church back on the narrow way,” for, as the song says,

 

It was a fight for survival that broke out in revival.

They was jumpin' pews and shoutin' Hallelujah!

 

            Now, I’m not advocating letting a squirrel loose in our midst as a way of stirring up excitement. But as I was choosing the texts for this series of sermons, I couldn’t help but think of “The Mississippi Squirrel Revival” as I read this story of the man with an unclean spirit who, as I see this story in my mind’s eye, bursts into the synagogue service where Jesus is teaching and starts a commotion that leads to the amazement of those who are witnesses to Jesus’ casting out the unclean spirit. The unclean spirit cried out through the man, ““What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” And when bidden to come out of the man, that unclean spirit convulsed the man and again cried out, but it came out of the man as Jesus had commanded. And the people were amazed: “He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.” A commotion, indeed—but it apparently awakened the people to the fact that something new, something significant, something holy was happening in their midst.

            But if, as we read this passage, we focus only on this exorcism—if we focus only on the spectacle of this unclean spirit being cast out of the man—then we might miss what Mark wants us really to understand about Jesus and this early part of his ministry. And I believe what Mark wants us to know is that this Jesus of Nazareth who is going about Galilee and preaching the good news of God’s kingdom breaking into human history through him is really not about show and spectacle—he’s all about authority: the authority of God in the lives of his people.

            You see, what gets lost in focusing solely on the exorcism of the man’s unclean spirit is the recognition of Jesus’ authority as “the Holy One of God,” the One sent by God to be the Savior of the world. But the people who heard Jesus and who witnessed his casting out of the unclean spirit that day had already begun to recognize that what Jesus was saying was new and different and, well, authoritative. They recognized it as he taught in the synagogue—Mark says, “They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.” You see, when the scribes (who were laymen who had studied the Scriptures and its interpretations) taught in the synagogues, their teaching relied on the interpretations of rabbis who had preceded them. So a teaching might sound something like this: “Well, Rabbi Thus-and-so says this, and Rabbi This-and-That says this, but Rabbi What’s-His-Name says this, and Rabbi Thingumbob says that.” But what Jesus had to say was different—he spoke to what the Scriptures meant for God’s people in their lives as individuals and as a people. His teaching was if it came straight from the mouth of God himself—which, as the Holy One of God, I supposed it did! But the people heard it and knew it for what it was: “[H]e taught them as one having authority …”

            But they also saw and recognized that authority—truth and power coming directly from God—in Jesus’ casting out the unclean spirit. Mark tells us that “They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching—with authority!’” Were there other miracle-workers in Galilee at that time? Who knows? Maybe there were, and maybe there weren’t. But if there were, their work apparently didn’t carry the weight, the astonishment, the amazement, the authority that accompanied both Jesus’ words and actions. There was something new here, something divine and holy happening, and the people heard it and saw it and shared it with others: as Mark tells us, “At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.”

            So that’s the story—but we come to the question that we must ask all the time as we engage the Scriptures as God’s people: What does this mean for you and me, and for us together as the people of God in this place?

            In June of 1983, Bishop Joel McDavid laid his hands upon my head and said, “Take thou authority to execute the office of a deacon in the Church of God; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” A few moments later, with my hand upon a Bible, he said “Take thou authority to read the Holy Scriptures in the Church of God, and to preach the Word.” Three years later, Bishop Ernest Fitzgerald said, “Take thou authority as an elder in the Church to preach the Word of God, and to administer the holy Sacraments in the congregation.” But, I am aware even today, as I was back in the early days of my ministry, that while I am authorized to preach and teach the Word of God, to administer the Sacraments, and order the life of the church, I am one without authority. As I stand behind this sacred desk every Sunday, as I stand behind the Lord’s Table at the Sacrament of Holy Communion, as I stand at the font to administer Christian Baptism, as I open the Scriptures to teach the Word, as I stand by the sickbed to bring comfort through word and prayer, as I stand by the graveside to commit bodies to the earth and commend souls into the hands of God, as I stand in front of a man and a woman to join them in the bonds of Holy Matrimony, as I do all of this, I am keenly aware that the authority behind it all is not mine, because the life, the power, the purpose do not flow from me—they flow from Jesus, the Holy One of God, our Lord and Savior. It’s his authority, not mine or yours or any human being’s, that is, or at least should be, the source and the purpose and the power in the life of his people.

            Now, I believe if we’re going to discover what this whole business of Jesus’ authority really means for us as his people, we have to answer two more questions. First, are we willing to let Jesus have authority in our lives by allowing him to guide us, as individuals and as the community of faith?

            What do I mean by this? What I mean is that, as we struggle to live faithfully as Jesus’ disciples, both as individuals and as his people, we look first and foremost to Jesus to show where we need go and what we need to do and what we need to say—in other words, we look to Jesus to guide us in how to live for him. So, as we try to find the path down which Jesus wants us to walk, we invite Jesus to speak to us through prayer—which means that, as we speak to him, we also have to be quiet and listen for what he has to say! Now, as I’ve said often enough, the skies usually don’t open up and the voice of God doesn’t thunder down, but, if we’re quiet in our spirits, we will feel his guidance and know the way we need to go. And, if we’re listening to what God is saying to us through others, we’ll begin to sense what it is God would have us do and be and say. Whether it’s as individuals or as the church, before we set off on some course of action, we need to be in prayer—not just talking, but listening as well.

            Yet we encounter Jesus not just through prayer, but through the Scriptures, for it’s often through the Scriptures that we can discern the will of God for specific decisions. Now, when I say that, I often think of the man who was struggling with a decision and decided he would be guided by simply opening the Bible and following whatever passage it opened to. So he opened his Bible and read these words: “Judas went and hanged himself.” The man said, “Well, I’m sure that’s not what God means for me to do,” so he opened his Bible again, and this time he read, “Go and do likewise.”

            Now, I know that just opening the Bible and reading what’s there on the page sounds a little strange, but, if it’s any comfort, even John Wesley practiced this from time to time, believing that God would in his providence guide the Bible to opening at just the passage he wanted Wesley to see. Yet what I want to say is that, when we open our Bibles, before we go to the notes or the commentaries or whatever other guides we use, we simply let Jesus speak to us through the words themselves—that we let the authority of Jesus through his Word guide us before we go to the so-called “authorities” who share with us what they’ve felt or thought or learned. Am I against notes or commentaries or other guides? No—if you go in my study, you’ll see I have a bookcase full of commentaries! What I’m saying is that, before, we take someone else’s word for it, we listen first for the guidance of the One who speaks to us through his Word and who is the Authority—I’m saying that, as engage him through the Scriptures, we listen first to Jesus.

            So that’s the first question: Are we willing to let Jesus have authority in our lives by allowing him to guide us, as individuals and as the community of faith? But here’s the second one: Is Jesus going to be the authority—is he going to be the One in charge—of our lives as individuals and our life together as his church? I know I’ve rung this change many times already, but I keep coming back to it, because it’s my deepest conviction that, until Jesus is in charge, both in our lives and in his church, we’re not going to grow toward the maturity to which he calls his people. We’re not going to grow into the community of faith he calls us to be together. Jesus has to be in charge—he has to be the Authority in our lives and in his church.

            And that means that we have to reject any agenda that isn’t his. As individuals, we have to reject what we want in favor of what Jesus wants. As a church, any course of action cannot be based on what this person or that person or what this group or that group wants—any course of action has to be based on what Jesus wants. Now, figuring that out is not always easy—it often takes time to discern as a people what Jesus would have us do. But, if we’re faithful to the task of figuring that out together, it will become clear what Jesus would have us do. That’s why, in this “Congregational Conversation” we’ve been having about both traditional and contemporary worship services on Sunday morning, we’ve been taking it slowly—we want to be sure that what we do is not about what one group wants or any group doesn’t, but what Jesus would have us do. And when we’ve discerned what Jesus would have us do and are obedient to that, we will find the pathway of blessing on which Jesus wants us to walk.

            At the synagogue that day, there was a commotion—commotion caused not just by a man with an unclean spirit, but commotion caused by One who, with authority, not only cast out that unclean spirit but brought the Scriptures alive to those who would hear. We don’t need an exorcism or even a Mississippi squirrel to cause a commotion in our midst—what we need is to open ourselves to the authority of Jesus, who is both our Guide and our Leader. And when we follow his guidance and his leadership, we’ll go where he wants us to go and say what he wants us to say and do what he wants us to do—we’ll live as his disciples. Lord Jesus, make your authority real in our lives! Amen!

“The Journey: By the Sea”—Mark 1:14-20

 

            Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God ahs come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

            As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea--for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

 

            I told you a couple of weeks ago that Mark’s Gospel offers a very spare, very bare-bones account of the life and ministry of Jesus. So if you know that, it really isn’t surprising that there’s not a lot of detail surrounding the calling of the first disciples—no backstory, nothing about any previous interaction between Jesus and these fishermen, nothing really about their backgrounds; all we know is that, as Jesus walked along the Sea of Galilee, he called Simon and Andrew, saying, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people,” and they left their nets and followed him. Then Jesus called James and John, the sons of Zebedee, and they, too, left their nets and their boats and their crews and their father, too, to follow Jesus. There’s nothing to suggest any great conversion experience or any intrinsic worthiness in these fishermen—just “Follow me and I will make you fish for people,” and they left behind who they had been to become what Jesus was calling them to be.

            Matthew and Luke, who take essentially the same point of view as Mark does, don’t offer us any more information than Mark. And maybe that says something to us the power of Jesus in the lives of those fishermen and in our lives as well. Jesus speaks a few words, and Simon and Andrew and James and John make a significant career change. Jesus through his Holy Spirit speaks to us, and hopefully we, too, choose to follow him.

            But what does it mean, really, to “follow” Jesus? Following Jesus is about more than being a church member; it’s about more than being a believer; it’s about more than hanging around the fringes. To “follow” Jesus is not really about being a follower—it’s about being a disciple.

            So what is a disciple? A disciple is more than a student—a disciple is someone who wants so much to be like his or her teacher, his or her master, that he or she seeks to be in an intimate relationship with the master. So Christian disciples—the disciples of Jesus—are those who want to be so much like Jesus that they’re willing to surrender to him completely. Jesus gets all that they are and all that they have, so that Jesus through the Holy Spirit can transform them into people who love God with all their heart and soul and mind and strength, who love their neighbors as themselves, and who love their sisters and brothers in the community of faith as Jesus loves them, with self-sacrificing, self-giving love. That’s what Jesus wants us to be—more than church members, more than believers, more than hangers-on; Jesus wants us to be disciples.

            You see, Jesus is walking by the sea of our lives, calling us in the midst of whatever we’re doing, calling us wherever we are, calling us whoever we may be, to follow him, to be his disciples, to fish for people. For those fishermen by the Sea of Galilee, following Jesus meant a significant career change—it meant leaving the nets and the boats and the crews and dear old Dad behind. So does following Jesus mean that we, too, have to leave it all behind? For some people, the call of Jesus to follow him requires a radical response. I went to seminary with successful business people, pharmacists, research chemists, and others who heard Jesus calling and left their nets, so to speak, to serve him in full-time ministry. As a member of the Committee on Ordained Ministry in this and two other districts and as a member of our Annual Conference Board of Ordained Ministry, I’ve met teachers, insurance salesmen, attorneys, peace officers, and others who have left the social and economic security of their well-established careers to serve as the pastors and leaders of God’s people.

            But I’ve also known people who didn’t feel the call to ordained or licensed or certified ministry, yet they heard Jesus calling them nonetheless to leave behind their nets—to leave behind the security of where they were and what they were doing—in order to follow him. Most of the people I know in this category find themselves doing what we would call “mission work”—serving people in need where the needy people are, coordinating the work of others who come to help in the short-term, and raising the money needed to make that mission and ministry happen. These people could have been far more secure and far more relaxed if they’d just stayed put where they were—but they heard Jesus calling, and they left their nets to follow him and fish for people.

            Yet I’ve also known people who thought that the call of Jesus was to leave the nets behind, to make that significant career change, to take up the cross of full-time Christian service, when in fact the call of Jesus was to follow him right where they were. I may have told this story before about the farmer who looked up in the sky one day and saw a cloud formation that spelled out the letters “GP.” The farmer said, “Hallelujah! It’s a sign from Jesus! He’s calling me to ‘Go Preach’!” So he gave up farming, got his church to ordain him, and became a pastor. But he made such a mess of things in such short order that he became quite discouraged, and in a moment of deep despair, on his knees in prayer, he said, “Lord, I saw your sign in the sky. I saw the letters ‘GP,’ and I knew you were telling me to ‘go preach.’ So I go and preach, but it’s not going well at all. What happened?” The Lord said to him, “No, no, no—I wasn’t saying ‘Go Preach’; I was saying, ‘Go Plow’!”

            Now, I tell you that story to make this point—most of us sitting here this morning aren’t being called to preach; we aren’t being called to take up the cross of full-time Christian service; we aren’t being called to leave the nets behind, so to speak; we aren’t being called to make a significant career change and leave behind the social and economic security of where we are right now. For most of us sitting here this morning, the call of Jesus is to follow him right we are. That means following Jesus in our homes, our workplaces, our schools, in the places where we socialize with others, wherever we find ourselves, including in our church! Wherever we may be, whatever we may find ourselves doing, whoever we may be, Jesus is calling us to follow him by living the life that loves God with all that we are and all that we have, loving our neighbors as ourselves, loving our brothers and sisters in Jesus as he loves us, and serving his Father and ours by serving others. In other words, wherever we may be, whatever we may find ourselves doing, whoever we may be, Jesus is calling us to be disciples.

            So, what does that mean for you and me? If Christian disciples are those who want so much to be like Jesus that they surrender everything to him, then it means that Jesus gets all of us—our time, our spiritual gifts and talents, our resources, and, yes, even our pocketbooks. Jesus the Master is in control of all of these, because we have surrendered that control to him. Jesus becomes the one who orders how we use our time, how we use our gifts and talents, how we use our resources, and how we use our finances. We can’t really and truly and fully be disciples of Jesus until we’ve given up control of all that we are and all that we have to him.

            Yet we can’t really and truly and fully be disciples of Jesus until we seek to become like him in devotion—we really can’t be like Jesus until our lives, like his, are bathed in the Scriptures and in prayer. Now, you might say that it was easy for Jesus to be devoted to prayer and the Scriptures, because he was the Son of God. Yet he was also fully human, and I think that means he faced the temptation not to give as much attention to prayer as he should. Yet don’t we read time and again about Jesus praying—praying for his disciples, praying for the people he was ministering to, praying for himself in the face of resistance, betrayal, and death? Jesus looked to his Father and ours for strength, for guidance, for assurance as he preached the good news that the kingdom of God was breaking into human history through him. Until we embrace the life of prayer and of Scripture—the life of praying without ceasing, which is the life of being aware of God’s constant presence, and the life of reading, studying, and knowing the Scriptures—we really can’t be disciples of Jesus.

            Yet we cannot and will not become disciples of Jesus—following him and fishing for people—until we embrace the life of serving him by serving others. How can we fish for people—how can we share good news with others—if we aren’t in their midst, making Jesus’ love real for them in what we do as well as what we say? As I’ve said before and will say again, God didn’t intend for us to keep the good news of his love to ourselves—he means for us to share it with others! And so, as disciples, we share it. Let me share with you some stories of disciples I’ve known:

            I’m thinking this morning of a woman who has gone on to be with the Lord now, but who undertook the ministry of visiting with the sick and the homebound in her community.

            I’m thinking this morning of a man who, every Tuesday night, went to the county jail to teach a Bible study, to visit with the inmates, to hear their stories, and to share Jesus with them.

            I’m thinking this morning of a doctor who, on Sunday mornings, would teach a Sunday School class at the county jail and who, through the contacts he made there, would help not only the inmates but their families on the outside.

            I’m thinking this morning of a man who used his wealth to help fund a number of ministries, but who also took a keen and “hands-on” interest in ministry to the Hispanic population in his area.

            I’m thinking this morning of a woman who became so enthusiastic about a cooperative ministry of home-delivery of meals to some needy people that she organized her church to be involved in that ministry, both financially and with “hands-on” preparation and delivery of meals.

            Now, I could go on and on with this list, but I hope you get the point: that we can’t be disciples if we’re going to keep the good news to ourselves. God fills us up with his love, but he expects us to pour out that love in serving him by serving others. If we can do that, then we’re being disciples—we’re following Jesus.

            On the journey from the Jordan to the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee and called four fishermen to leave it all behind, to follow him, and to fish for people. Jesus is walking by the sea of our lives, and he’s calling us, too—perhaps not to leave it all behind, but to put it all under his control so that we can become like him and share the good news that God’s kingdom is in our midst through him. Jesus is calling—how will you answer him?

“The Journey: In Galilee”—John 1:43-51

 

            The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, "Follow me." Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael asked him, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” And he said to him, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

 

            It probably shouldn’t surprise you to know that I consider myself an enthusiast of Sherlock Holmes—not the recent movies starring Robert Downey, Jr., but the original stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I’ve read all of them many times over since I was a boy. Now, many of the stories have within them a very similar scene—Holmes makes some sort of statement about what a character has just done or something about his or her life or, sometimes, what he or she is even thinking. The character is often shocked or surprised, sometimes attributing Holmes’ knowledge to having had him or her followed, having come into possession of knowledge about him or her, or even some diabolical ability. Of course, as Holmes explains his statements in terms of keen observation and deduction, the character understands it very clearly—yet there is still the moment of amazement as Mr. Sherlock Holmes appears to know that which he couldn’t possibly know!

            The Fourth Gospel gives us a moment not unlike those in the Sherlock Holmes stories when that which is supposedly unknowable is revealed. Here these words again:

 

When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Nathanael asked him, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

 

            Of course, Jesus’ knowledge had nothing to do with observation and deduction, and everything to do with his power as the Son of God. But what was it that brought Nathanael and Jesus to this moment of surprise and amazement and, eventually, a profession of faith? It was, very simply, an invitation: “Come and see.”

            “Come and see.” Philip himself had just answered Jesus’ call to follow him, and now he was inviting someone else to come and follow Jesus. Hear once again these words:

 

“We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.”

 

            “Come and see.” I’m wondering this morning if there’s not an invitation here for us—not to “come and see,” because we’ve already come and we’ve already seen what Nathanael was to confess: that Jesus of Nazareth is indeed the Son of God and the Savior of the world. Rather, I’m wondering this morning if the invitation for us is to be like Philip—I’m wondering if the invitation for us this morning is to invite others to “come and see”—to come to Jesus, to come to know him as the Son of God, to profess him as Savior, to become a disciple.

            You see, the first part of our mission statement says that we are to make disciples of Jesus Christ by inviting, but I wonder how much inviting we really do. Here’s a question I’ve asked our Church Council, at least one other group in our congregation, and several individuals: When was the last time you invited someone to church? Even better, here’s another question: When was the last time you shared your faith in Jesus with someone? When was the last time you said, although perhaps not using the same words, “Come and see.”

            Now, you might be saying, “Pastor, that invitation is always out there!” But, is it really? Or do we just assume it’s out there? Do we just assume that people know they ought to know Jesus? Do we just assume people know that we’re here and that they ought to be here? Here’s a truth that I’ve shared with you before: that the days when we could assume that people knew anything about God and Jesus and the church are gone. Today’s truth is that we can have the most inspiring worship in whatever style anyone wanted, and we could have the best programs for children and youth and adults to be found anywhere—but until we invite people to “come and see,” our worship and our programs aren’t going to help people know Jesus. There is no magic bullet that replaces the power of invitation—the power of one person inviting another to “come and see.”

            Now, it is distinctly possible that some of us are still stuck in that mindset that says that religion is a very personal, very individual thing, and that if you don’t meddle in mine, I won’t meddle in yours. It’s possible that we’re not excited enough about what Jesus is doing through the power of the Holy Spirit in this place (and, believe me, Jesus is doing some powerful things here) to want others to be a part of it. And it’s possible that we really don’t care whether or not others come to know Jesus—we know him, and that’s all that matters. But the call of the gospel—the call to share the good news by inviting others to “come and see” what Jesus has done and is doing—supersedes all of that. The call to share the good news means that we put away our old mindsets, that we put away our lack of excitement, that we put away our apathy, in favor of imitating Philip and others in the task of calling people to “come and see”—to come and see and know Jesus as Lord and Savior.

            So, how are we going to get to that point? How are we going to get past our assumptions and mindsets, our lack of excitement about what Jesus is doing, even our lack of concern for the spiritual well-being of others? Let me suggest that the first step is prayer. Now, you probably knew I was going to say that, yet isn’t always the first step we should take whenever we try to anything for the sake of God’s kingdom? So we pray: we pray for ourselves. We pray that the Holy Spirit would come into our hearts and lives and remove the old assumptions, the old ways of thinking, the lack of excitement, the spirit of not caring for others. We pray that the Holy Spirit would come in and put within us a spirit that recognizes what Jesus has done, what Jesus is doing right now, and what Jesus is going to do, a spirit that is excited about what Jesus is doing, a spirit that truly cares about those who need to be introduced or re-introduced to Jesus. We pray that the Holy Spirit will come in and put a new spirit in us!

            Then we pray that the Holy Spirit will show us those to whom we need to go to offer that “come and see” invitation. And we may be surprised to learn that those to whom the Spirit is sending us are not complete strangers. Yes, there are those who are gifted at sharing good news with people they don’t know—but most of us are not. Yet there are people around us, among our friends, relatives, acquaintances, and neighbors, who need to be introduced or re-introduced to Jesus, and they would readily come to this place of meeting with him if someone would just invite them—if someone would just say to them, “Come and see!”

            Then we pray that the Holy Spirit will move us to actually get up and go and make the invitation, believing that he has already gone before us, preparing the hearts and minds of those he’s calling us to invite. You see, we’re not in this invitation business alone—God, in his Holy Spirit, is working ahead of us in what we Methodists call “prevenient grace,” so that when we say, “Come and see,” the Holy Spirit has already been preparing the ground for that seed of the good news we’re supposed to plant.

            So we begin with prayer. But the answer to our own prayers is often found in our doing what we’ve been praying about! So we pray—but then we put hands and feet to our prayers. We pray about offering others the invitation to “come and see,” but then we actually have to make the invitation! Now, there really are no formulas for doing this; there really are no gimmicks; all it takes is a willingness of spirit to say to someone, “Will you come to church with me this Sunday?” Even better, you can say, “Will you come to church with me this Sunday? I’ll pick you up at such-a-time.” And best of all, you can say, “Here’s what Jesus is doing in my life—can I share that with you?” You see, no gimmicks, no formulas, no tricks—just a willing spirit inviting a seeking spirit to “come and see.”

            Now, I’ll grant you that there are those who will be skeptical, those who will be resistant, those who will outright reject the invitation—even Philip had to overcome Nathanael’s skepticism: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” But we aren’t responsible for how people respond to the invitation—our job is to make the invitation. Eddie Fox, who leads the evangelistic effort of the World Methodist Council, constantly reminds us that we don’t convert people—it’s God who does the converting; we simply offer the invitation. We simply ask people to come and see—to come and see what Jesus has done and is doing in his church; to come and see what Jesus is doing in our lives; to come and see Jesus, who is our Savior.

            I was talking this past week with one of our pastors in the Savannah District who shared the story about a man who had recently started coming to church at the invitation of someone else and who, in a very short time after he started attending, brought two other people with him. As I reflected on that story, it occurred to me that this man wasn’t that well “schooled,” so to speak, in the Christian faith—he didn’t know the ins-and-out, the intricacies of Scripture and theology; he just knew Jesus was doing something in his life, and he wanted to share it with others. I’m sure Philip didn’t understand all that it meant to follow Jesus when he invited Nathanael to “come and see”—all he knew was that he had found the Messiah, the Savior, and he wanted Nathanael to know him, too! Maybe that sort of fire has become smoldering ashes in our lives, but it’s never too late for the spark of the Spirit to re-kindle the flame and renew within us the desire to share Jesus with others. Just as Jesus in Galilee called Philip and then Philip invited Nathanael to come to Jesus, so Galilee is all around us here and now, full of people who need to know or come to know again the Savior of the world—people to whom we need to say, “Come and see!” Will we trust the work of Spirit in our lives and in the lives of others to offer that invitation? Dear God, make it so for all of us!

“The Journey: At the Jordan”—Mark 1:4-11

 

            John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

            In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

 

            If you drive out from LaGrange, Georgia, on the Hogansville Road, you’ll eventually come upon the sign for a little United Methodist church called, properly enough, “Asbury.” In January of 1980, as a student at LaGrange College, I was appointed pastor of that congregation. I had been assisting one of my professors, Dr. Frank McCook, who had been serving the church as a supply pastor and who had been using the church as a training ground for young students (like me) who were answering the call to ordained ministry. But Dr. McCook developed some health issues and had to step down from the church, yet he felt confident enough in my abilities to turn the church over to me, and the District Superintendent apparently agreed, since he made the appointment. I served that church until July of 1981, when Tammy and I, newly married, moved to Durham, North Carolina, so I could begin seminary at Duke University. Now, I’m not sure that my tenure as the pastor of Asbury Church could be called distinguished—I think the church gave more to me than I gave to it; but Asbury Church will always have a special place in my heart, because it was the first church I served as a pastor.

            Everybody’s got to start somewhere—in terms of ministry, Asbury Church was where I got my start.

            Now, I think I’ve been back to Asbury Church once since I left it in 1981—I don’t get up to LaGrange very often. Yet I often think about the church, although it’s sometimes hard to remember the names and the faces. But I often think about the church because the memory of it reminds me, in the midst of everything else I have to deal with, of what it is that God has called me to do—he’s called me to preach the good news of his love made real in Jesus, to help his people embrace the ministry to which he’s called them, and to care for his sheep wherever he’s put me.

            Everybody’s got to start somewhere, and I think it’s helpful for us to re-visit the point at which we started something, whether it’s a career, a family, our very lives, whatever. Everybody’s got to start somewhere, and I think it’s helpful for us to re-visit that starting point, because it reminds us of who we really are and what we’re really about. Without our going back to those starting points in our lives, whether we do it physically or emotionally, we get caught up in the demands of right here and right now and forget our identity and what we’re really supposed to be doing. But everybody’s got to start somewhere.

            For Jesus, that starting place, at least as Mark tells the story, was at the Jordan River, where he came to be baptized by John. Now, Mark’s Gospel, although it comes second in the New Testament, was probably one of the first if not the first of the written accounts of the life and ministry of Jesus. And if you’ve read Mark’s Gospel, you’ll know it’s a very spare, very bare-bones account of Jesus’ life and ministry—Matthew and Luke give us birth narratives and genealogies and flights to Egypt and pilgrimages to Jerusalem, but Mark puts Jesus’ starting point squarely at the Jordan, where, as the gospel writer tells us,

 

just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

 

            I wonder how many times Jesus re-visited that moment in his heart and mind. (The gospel doesn’t tell us that he did, but I have to believe he did.) I wonder if he thought about it in those moments when the disciples were being particularly hard-headed. I wonder if he went back there emotionally when there was more resistance than usual to both the words and actions which spoke of God’s good news for the world. I wonder if he thought about it in Gethsemane, during the moment of crisis when he had to choose whether or not he would follow his Father’s will. I wonder if he remembered it as he hung on Golgotha’s cross, his life ebbing away to reconcile humankind to God. I have to believe that Jesus re-visited that moment of baptism and heard again in his heart and mind the words of his Father: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

            I believe that we as Christians need to re-visit our starting place, the place where our journey as the daughters and sons of God began—at our baptism. Now, I know that many of us were baptized as infants, so we don’t have a memory per se of that moment. I know that many of us were baptized as children or youth or adults, whether in the Methodist tradition or another—but always keep in mind that we baptize, not into any particular tradition, but into Christ’s holy Church. Yet whether we were baptized as infants or children or youth or adults, at some point God our Father spoke these words over us: “You are my daughter; you are my son; you are the beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

            We need to re-visit those moments, as we do every time we baptize and as we do every year as we share in the Congregational Renewal of the Baptismal Covenant, because our journey through this world is difficult. Let’s be honest—living faithfully for Jesus in this world is tough! We are constantly tried and tempted, constantly pressured to compromise who we are and what we’re called to do. We’re constantly pressured to conform to the selfish, self-centered, sinful ways of the world rather than live in the power and promise of a life of obedience to the God who has redeemed us from sin and death and given us new life in Jesus. We need to go back to that starting place—to our baptism—to be reminded of and to reclaim who we are: the sons and daughters of God. We need to go back to that starting place—to our baptism—to be reminded of and to reclaim the power of God in our lives: the Holy Spirit, who was with Jesus in his ministry and who is with us as we fulfill God’s call to share his good news in the community and the world. In our spiritual journey, as we are in the world but not of the world, we need to return to the starting point—to our baptism—to be renewed and refreshed as we continue on the pathway of faithful living.

            Everybody’s got to start somewhere—for our spiritual journey, the starting point is at our baptism. As we renew the baptismal covenant, let us hear once again the voice of God calling us his sons and daughters. Let us claim our identity as the children of God. Let us be filled again with the Holy Spirit, so we can do the work that God has given us. Let us remember our baptism, and be thankful! Amen.