August 23, 2020 Guest Pastor Cyndi Jones

First Lutheran Church

August 23, 2020

Guest Preacher Rev. Cyndi Jones

 

Mark 10:46-52   Then they came to Jericho.  As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving Jericho, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging.  When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus. “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him. The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

 

Sermon

Rev. Cyndi Jones

 

When someone lost their eye sight in Jesus’ day, they lost more than their vision -- they lost their status in society -- their rightful place in the world -- their voice. They were largely relegated to sitting on the side of the road begging. And that is exactly where we find Bartimaeus in today's reading -- sitting by the side of the road begging. He had a pretty good location, right on the major road from Jericho -- Everyone leaving Jericho had to pass right in front of him. As they say -- location, location, location.

 

So here in Mark’s story, we find Bart, a blind beggar, sitting on the side of a very busy intersection doing what he does best -- paying attention to the people walking by. What kind of crowd is this? What is this crowd worth? Who is in this parade of people?

 

Bart has been assessing crowds most of his life -- so he has honed his skills -- he knows that if he calls out too soon he won't be heard and if too late they will have passed by and he will have missed his opportunity. Timing is everything in the blind begging business.  As Bart is listening, the noise of the crowd increases. They are getting closer.  He hears murmuring of one name: Jesus. // Jesus of Nazareth is mentioned by several people. Maybe Jesus is in this crowd?

Then at just the right moment Bart shouts out – "Jesus, Son of David – have mercy on me."  Now he's done it.  The people near him turn and tell him to shut up -- “Who do you think you are calling out to Jesus. Stay in your voiceless, out of sight place." But on this day -- this day – Bart says to himself – “Today I will not be silent!”  So he shouts all the louder – “HEY Jesus – over here – Son of David – have mercy on me.”  This is the day Bart reclaimed his voice – his right to speak and be heard, his right to expect a response.

 

That was over 2000 years ago. This week marks the 30th year since discrimination against people with disabilities became illegal in the United States. On July 26th, 1990 President George Herbert Walker Bush said, "Let the shameful walls of discrimination come tumbling down." And with that he picked up a pen and signed the Americans with Disabilities Act.

 

Thirty years ago, on July 26th, I sat on the swelteringly hot and humid south lawn of the White House to witness the signing of the Americans with Disabilities Act, the Declaration of Independence for people with disabilities.

 

I remember as if it was this morning. As members of Congress, the Cabinet and the Supreme Court and other invited guests took their seats, and the ceremony was about to begin -- just then -- a refreshing cool breeze blew across the assembly. I imagined this breeze beginning in Washington, DC and gathering strength as it blew west across Appalachia, then the Plains, the Rockies – all the way to California and the Pacific Ocean and beyond, beyond to Alaska and Hawaii and ultimately all the way around the world. As this wind from God blew, it became stronger, blowing away the past discrimination and changing the face of America and the world.

 

We celebrate July 26th to remember the hard work and sacrifice that brought this Law into being. We celebrate to help the next generation not take things for granted. We celebrate taking control of our own lives. And we celebrate that today people with disabilities can speak for ourselves and answer for ourselves.

 

While today's reading was long before the ADA, Jesus, you might say, was ahead of his time. And hearing Bartimaeus, -- what did Jesus do?  Jesus calls him. Then a strange thing happens.

 

Remember those people who had just told Bart to shut up -- immediately they see Bart in a different light. Their perception of him has changed. -- “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.”   Jesus changes everything.  Jesus, the one who knows all, understands all, loves all, does something extraordinary -- he shows us what it means to be a servant.

 

As Bart shakes the dust off and comes to Jesus –- Jesus does what very few of us do when confronted face to face with obvious need – Jesus now face to face with Bart – asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?”  

 

"Hey Jesus -- can't you see he's blind? What do you think he wants?"

 

Jesus asks him, “What do you want me to do for you?” Miracle – life changing moment. Perhaps for the first time in years, Bart is treated as someone who can speak for himself, who can decide for himself -- and is worthy of being addressed.

 

For Bart – his sight being restored perhaps was secondary – he had already regained his dignity. “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus modeling for us good servant behavior.

 

Over the many years as I was publisher of a national magazine for people with disabilities, I received calls from all over the US for all manner of disability issues. One call stands out because it broke my heart.

 

One afternoon a woman called and said that she and her young daughter had just moved to a new neighborhood in the Midwest and they started going to the neighborhood church.  Her young daughter had Down Syndrome and loved to sing, so during the service they sang along with the music.  

 

After the third week, as they were leaving, the pastor told the woman that she was welcome, but her daughter could not return. In her grief, this woman called me -- me a secular publisher. Stunned -- all I could say was to look for a more welcoming congregation.

 

A few years later a member of the church I was attending brought a friend with her to church. Beth was a young adult with an intellectual disability. She was new to church and didn't understand the liturgy or social customs and was a little disruptive during the service.  But this community was accustomed to all sorts of interruptions during the service -- “free roaming” toddlers and people wandering in with all sorts of urgent needs. When Beth started coming, people were drawn to her, and a small group quickly formed to be with her, to sit with her and join her for coffee after the service. A circle of friends. Gradually she learned the rhythms of the church and the people who loved her. The community missed her when she didn’t come. Beth had become part of the fabric of this community.

 

“What do you want me to get for you?” the servant words we hear every time we go into a restaurant the waitress says something along these lines. But do I see that person as Christ? Rarely.

 

A few years ago, I was on my way home from a TV interview in Houston. I had a little extra time in the airport and as I often do when given the opportunity, I went over to the near-by coffee stand. “What do you want me to get for you?” Familiar words. “A latte, please” And with my words – the barista turned and started to work on my request.

 

Not a moment later – a flight attendant rushed up to the counter – “I’ll have a double espresso.” The barista, still working on my request did not respond. Again the flight attendant said all the louder, “I’LL HAVE A double espresso -- and I’m in a hurry!” At this, the barista, calmly turned around.

 

Now I know what is coming next. It usually happens this way: because I have a disability, my time is perceived to be without value. She’ll stop working on my request and turn to the person who is standing -- the one whose time is perceived as MORE valuable.

 

But that day was different.  “Excuse me,” the barista said, “when I am finished with this customer’s order, I’ll be happy to wait on you.” The flight attendant is shocked -- glances down and for the first time sees that I am at the counter and am being waited on. Up until that moment -- I am invisible. The barista returns to finish my beverage and says that’ll be $4.25-- it is after all, an airport coffee shop -- and I wheel away.  As I turn the corner and take a sip of my latte, I begin to weep. I still do. It is the social transaction. That of being truly invisible to some, and yet a person of value to another. This may have been what happened to Bartimaeus.

 

We don’t know if Bartimeus regained his physical sight or --if because of Jesus attention to Bartimeus, the crowd had simply regained its sight and could now see Bartimaeus  -- perhaps for the first time. Their perception of Bart had changed. More than his sight was restored, his personhood was restored.  The real miracle was that Jesus made Bartimaeus present.

 

He was no longer some invisible, unnamed person, in fact he is one of the only miracle stories where we know the person’s name: think about it -- the Syrophoenician woman, the woman with an issue of blood, the leper, the paralytic –all nameless people.

 

As the Body of Christ -- each one of us, has this extraordinary power, a super power -- just like Jesus -- to make people visible, for them to appear out of the margins, to raise up those who are discouraged or left out.   We have been given the power to follow Jesus example --
to look one another in the eye, to call each other by name, to treat one another with respect, and to ask “What would you have me do for you?” and in so doing our communities come closer to the kingdom of God.

 

Let us pray. Here we are before you, Lord. We are always before you. You hold in mind each one of us as if there were no one else in the world. But we are often unaware of your presence. Here, together, coming to meet with you, we become conscious of you as the reality, the true basis of life.  Amen.

The Liberating Power of Naps

Have you ever woken up from an afternoon nap and forget what year it is? I know there are a lot of people who are not able to or don’t want to waste their day with a nap. But for me, I look forward to my Sunday afternoon post-church nap every Monday morning. In a world of bust and boom markets, student loan debt, deforestation, #girlboss, and mommy bloggers, the glorification of busy and toxic capitalism has led to the oppression of humanity and nature. We have forgotten our identity and our relationship with the earth. Rest is a sacred tool of liberation, modeled by God in the last day of creation.

In the first creation story, God performs an impressive amount of work in six days. God speaks light into existence, God separates sky and waters, God gathers water in order to make land, God commands plants and animals to grow and produce. Most importantly, God forms humankind in God’s own image. Finally, on the seventh and last day, God rested. According to Strong’s Concordance, the word rest in the original Hebrew is translated to Shabath, meaning, “To cease, desist, rest”. God ceased and desist from work, and rested while admiring the goodness of creation. This rest became sacred, sanctified, set apart from all of the other days. It marked the completion of a very busy work week.

Fast forward to the Exodus story. God’s people become enslaved for generations by the Egyptians, working night and day in the fields and homes. Their whole identity and existence was based on their productivity and what they did for work. Part of being a free person means that you have the choice to rest, and the Israelites did not have such privilege. The Israelites were under the oppression of one of the most influential civilizations in history, and they cried out for deliverance. God heard their cries and liberated the Israelites from slavery and oppression through Moses. 

Just because you take the people out of Egypt, doesn’t mean you take the Egypt out of the people. It took quite some time for God to teach the Israelites how to be human again, after generations of not being treated as such. The Law given from God to Moses was an act of grace. The law taught the Israelites how to please God (no guessing games like pagans). The law also showed them how to treat others with dignity.This includes keeping the sabbath day holy. 

“Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.” (Exodus 20:8-11 NSRV)

God spoke to Moses and commanded that the seventh day of the week to be a day of rest, modeling what God did in creation. They had to learn how to be a human being, not a human doing. This is not just limited to the Israelites, but the sabbath is extended to people who are enslaved (because they were once enslaved and now free), and to the foreigners (because they were once living in foreign land). Rest restores one’s view of humanity and affirms one’s identity as a child of God, not by your ability to produce or what you can get others to produce for you.

Rest helps us to maintain a proper relationship with the earth. Notice that when God was resting, the rest of creation did not stop growing or producing. God liberated creation to flourish by setting it into motion as it is naturally intended. In God’s commandment to keep the sabbath holy, God not only wants rest for the Israelites, but for the earth, and livestock. 

“…but the seventh year you shall let it rest and lie fallow, so that the poor of your people may eat; and what they leave the wild animals may eat. You shall do the same with your vineyard, and with your olive orchard” (Exodus 23:11 NRSV).

This rhythm of rest and work sets the framework for sustainable farming practices, limits deforestation, and prevents over hunting. Through the sabbath, God commands that the land and other ecological resources are not to be exploited, because everything God creates is worthy of rest and treated with honor. This practice resists one of the trappings of capitalism which exploits the earth’s resources.

Since God modeled sacred rest through the sabbath on the last day of creation, we are commanded to not only see ourselves as valued outside of our work, but to also see all people and all of creation as worthy of honor and rest. This is counter-cultural to the world we are experiencing today. Therefore, rest is a tool of liberation from oppression. We live in a society which demands us to work in order to survive. Toxic capitalism causes us to pay as little as possible for the most work to be done. As a result, people are in debt, live paycheck to paycheck, and have illnesses related to stress. This is especially harmful for Black, Indigenous, and People of Color who are historically and are presently being marginalized economically. In addition to all of this, the earth is being plundered of its natural resources, causing drought, famine, and other effects of climate change. We have once again become human doings, not human beings.

Rest is a subversive act which undermines the oppression of empire by remembering our identity as children of God, created in the image of the divine. During the Holocaust, Jews were forced into labor camps where they were starved and worked until their bodies failed and then executed. One of the most notorious camps was Auschwitz in Poland. Even though they were enslaved, tortured, and worked to the bone, the Jewish people still found a way to hold on and adapt their religious practices and traditions. This included the Seder during Passover. During the Seder, Rabbi Eliyahu Kitov writes, 

“…One is required to recline on a couch, an armchair, or on pillows. This is how royalty and nobility used to eat and on this night the people of Israel are entitled to conduct themselves like royalty…even the most humble or poor Jew, is required to recline at the Seder as if he were a nobleman”. 

In Auschwitz, there is a famous gate entrance with the slogan written on it “Arbeit macht frei” meaning, “Work makes one free”. Contrasting this, the Jewish people reclining at the Seder table inside their bunks courageously declare with their resting bodies that they already are free. This is rest as resistance.

Today, we see rest as resistance when we chose to put down our cell phones and walk away from our computers. We return to our humanity when take the time to be embodied individuals who exist outside the internet. Resistance looks like not answering work emails or calls outside of office hours and utilizing all of your vacation days.

Rest is a right and is a justice issue. Our essential workers have been more busy than ever and are risking exposure to the virus daily. There are many people who cannot afford to take a pay cut or take time off work. This is our opportunity to use what privileges we have to advocate for safer working conditions, for mandatory paid family leave, and a higher minimum wage. We must ensure that every human has the opportunity to get adequate sleep and rest for their bodies. Rest is reparations for people who have been oppressed by a system which exploits their labor and degrades their humanity.

Imagine a world where everyone had at least eight hours of sleep. Where everyone’s financial needs are met without having to work overtime and all are able to take over two weeks of vacation in a year. Imagine a world in which we farm sustainably, consume less, and go outside more. A world where we have time to daydream, move slowly, and tend to ourselves and our relationships. I believe this is what the kingdom of God is like…and by the grace of God, I believe we can experience this rest if we are willing.

Therefore, children of God…

May you begin from a place of rest, instead of working to rest.

May you remember that you are a human being, not a human doing.

May you resist the temptation to consume and exploit.

May you declare with your resting body that you are already free.

And May you be like the liberating creator God, and take a nap.

Amen.

"It's Time To Wake Jesus Up" August 9, 2020

First Lutheran Church

August 9, 2020

 

Mark 4:35-41  On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side."  And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him.  A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped.  But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?"  He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.  He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?"  And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"

 

Sermon “It’s Time To Wake Jesus Up!”

Pastor Greg Ronning

 

This morning’s Gospel story is the source for one of the earliest symbols of the church, - a boat.  This boat is the church, the faith community, the Body of Christ, and even the Kingdom that comes.  And in today’s Gospel, this boat is out on the waters in the midst of a great storm.   The symbol and the metaphor, regrettably, very appropriately, accurately describes the church these days!

 

Recently I had the opportunity, along with my local Lutheran pastor colleagues, to visit the Danish Lutheran Church right here in Yorba Linda.  Pastor Anne-Grethe Krogh Nielsen gave us a tour of their beautiful sanctuary.  (Image of Ships in Sanctuary) Inside the sanctuary she pointed out an interesting Danish tradition, in the nave, (the Latin name for the area where the congregation sits.). Hanging down from the ceiling were these wonderfully detailed model “ships.”   She reminded us that “nave,” is the Latin word for “ship,” and that traditional churches were designed to resemble the shape of a upside down ship.  

 

Pastor Nielson remarked, “the ships hanging from the ceiling in the nave serve as beautiful reminders of life in the church.”  “They remind us that we called to sail together in unity, in spirit and in hope.”  We are called “to be in the same boat, to share the comfort or the discomfort of sailing over troubled waters.” We sit “seated row by row, side by side, looking towards the East, the sunrise and hope.” She concluded, “And most importantly (we are reminded) to leave the steering to God, trusting that God will indeed bring us safe to shore!”  “As we enter God's family through baptism, we sail on through life's stormy seas together toward home.”

 

And by the way, these boat and other boating symbols can also be found in our sanctuary here at First Lutheran.  Our paraments are adorned with “anchors,” a ship – “Noah’s Ark;” We have a stain-glass window featuring a cross with an “anchor” embedded into it, and we have a “ship” sailing upon troubled waters.

 

The “boat,” or “ship” is a great symbol for the church.  And “troubled waters,” “the waters of chaos,” “a great storm,” are great symbols for the struggle that is the mission of the church.  For the church does not always sail on calm waters, more often than not, we are “at sail” on waters that are “stirred up!” 

 

The Church encounters rough seas when it seeks to live out its calling. … a calling to preach good news in a world that prefers judgment; a calling to proclaim peace in a world bent on war; a calling to bring about justice in a world that is decidedly unfair; a calling to end hunger and poverty in a world afraid to share resources; a calling to welcome and invite the marginalized of society into the full participation of the community; a calling to serve neighbor, and even the stranger, in a world that cannot begin to trust such radical and unconditional love; a calling to serve others selflessly in a world that stubbornly clings to its right to be selfish. 

 

So it is that the church, when fully engaged in its calling, finds itself in a great storm; Tossed about to and fro, up and down, side to side; fighting with the winds that are, “just the way things are,” sailing over the deep waters, “the powers and principalities,” that threaten “faith” and invite us to live in “fear.”

 

It’s not an easy thing, this journey that is before us.  In the midst of life’s storms, we can easily forget the things that make for faith, the things that shape our values, the things that inspire our heartfelt passions, the things that bring us peace and courage.  In the midst of life’s storms, we forget the times we were loved deeply and completely, the times we stood on mountain tops and believed with all our heart, soul, and mind.  And as water begins to spill over into the boat, we are slowly filled with doubt.  We second guess just what we’re doing in this boat that is determined to set sail over deep and stormy waters.

 

Thankfully this week’s Gospel does not end with a boat endlessly tossed about on the sea in the midst of a great storm.  We are reminded - what it is that we can cling to, - what it is that we need to do, in the midst of great storms, in the midst of uncertainty, in the midst of doubt and fear, in the midst of the journey to which we have all been called, a daring voyage over deep and troubled waters.

 

In today’s Gospel story from Mark, I imagine that the disciples, especially those who were fisher-people, think they have this situation under control.  “We can handle this!”  Unfortunately, the boat starts taking on water and things are beginning to look bad, - really bad.  It’s at this point that they remember that Jesus is in the boat, in the stern, asleep on a cushion.  So they decide it’s time to wake him up!

 

How often in the midst of life’s great storms do we forget that Jesus is here, that Christ is present among us, and that we are not alone?  And how often do we decide to just let Jesus stay asleep!

 

Today’s Gospel reminds us, that in such times, we need to wake Jesus up!  In particular we need to awaken the Christ among us by “re-membering,” by once again intentionally becoming the Body of Christ present in the world!  As I have taught you before, “re-member” is the key word.  Once again, to “re-member” is the opposite of “dis-member,” to “re-member “is to put something back together again.

 

Too often when crisis hits us, when we come across life’s storms, we tend to “dis-member.”  We disengage from each other, from community, from God, and we try to do it alone.  And when we do this, when we choose to live apart from the faith community, when we let the faith community fall apart - it’s like letting Jesus sleep through the storm.  And Jesus “asleep in the stern” on a “cushion” will never help us sail this ship to its destination!

 

Christ is awakened when “re-member” that Jesus is here!  We re-member by gathering together around the Word and Sacraments, we re-member by coming together and practicing our faith, we re-member by joining arms and serving those in need, we re-member by welcoming the marginalized into our community, we re-member by joining “faithful people doing faithful things!”

 

And what happens when Christ is awakened? A living word is spoken aloud, and the wind and the sea become still.  Fear is replaced by a bold and courageous faith.   And the peace that passes all understanding, shared one with another, begins to guard our hearts and the minds.  When we wake Jesus up, we become the Body of Christ, Christ present in the boat, Christ present in the middle of the storm, Christ present in the world, Christ present for the sake of the world. 

 

Christ awakened in our life together, leads us across troubled waters and into the kingdom that is present and coming even now, the good and faithful work that is the calling of the Church. 

 

We are in the midst of the voyage of a lifetime, a challenging adventure into uncharted waters.  The wind is blowing hard and the sea is rough.  But let us not be afraid, as we gather in the boat that is the church, the Christ is awakened!  Amen.