"What about Herstory?" A sermon on Paul and the slave girl, abducted Nigerian girls, and the power of listening to story.

Today’s scripture lesson from Acts is the story of Paul, Silas, the writer of the Book of Acts (probably same guy who wrote the Gospel of Luke) and some others in Phillipi. They are beset by a slave girl with a spirit of prophecy, who after a couple days of haranguing our band of evangelists, annoys Paul so much he casts the spirit out of the girl. This upsets her owners because they relied on the income they received from her ability to see the future, and Paul and Silas end up in jail. While in jail, they sing hymns, and after an earthquake opens the bars to their cells, they refuse to escape. Instead, they tell their jailer about Jesus and he and his family are all converted and baptized.

In this sermon, I explore the question, “But what about the slave girl’s story?” and do that in dialogue with the abduction of the school girls in Nigeria (and the stories they all have), and our current inability in the U.S. to listen to one another’s stories and instead just shout at or demean one another, or think that if we disagree on one thing we ought not respect each other.

Some questions for you to answer in the comments section: Does telling your story or listening to others have power to you, or importance to you? How so? How is it valuable, if at all, to our social discourse and ability to live together as people? Feel free to answer those, or answer your own questions, or make your own observations. Thank you for reading, and God bless you in your faith journey.

“What About Herstory?”

Sermon, Year A, Easter 4, March 11, 2014

Plymouth United Church of Christ, Eau Claire, WI

© Rev. David J. Huber

Focus Scripture: Acts16:16-34

This passage from Acts I have read many times over the years. I was always really impressed by this incident in the jail, how the doors opened and Paul and the others stayed inside and didn’t try to escape. But I found this week in reading it something else has struck out at me. I found it difficult to read this story without focusing on the encounter with the slave girl. It caught my attention this week. Especially, I think, because of the abduction of the Nigerian girls. The girls abducted from their school The girls who were basically taken by Boko Haram who said thatthe girls’ crime was that they wanted to be educated.

So the connection between the two stories, the slave girl and these Nigerian girls, caught my attention. There are similarities between them. There is certainly a lack of respect shown to the girls in Nigeria. To abduct people because you think that you have power of them simply because you are a man and they are women or girls. There is also a lack of respect shown to the slave girl here in the Book of Acts. A lack of respect shown (or not shown) by a number of people. Paul doesn’t show respect for her or appreciate her. He sort of heals her. Maybe. He casts the spirit out of her, but we don’t know that she wanted to have it cast out of her. He just does it. And he doesn’t do it because he wants to make them better. He casts out the spirit because he is annoyed by her. He wants her to be quiet. That was the only motivation he had. And Paul doesn’t even speak to her. He speaks to the spirit. In a sense, he has violated her. Violated her being by doing this thing to her as though he had the power to do to her whatever he wants without having to ask permission first.

She has no say in the matter.

And then her owners are upset because they were making money off of her. She was a good source of income for them. And perhaps her customers are upset. So they’re upset. The magistrates are upset. Other people are upset. But in this whole passage the girl’s story never gets told. We don’t hear from her at all. No one speaks to her. She is ignored by Paul. She’s ignored by her owners. She’s ignored by the magistrates and others. She’s even ignored by the person who wrote this book. The writer didn’t feel a need to tell her story except to use her as a foil to set up this story about Paul, to get to this conclusion that ends with this wonderful conversion and baptism of the jailer and his family. Which is a great story! But where is her story?

I’d like to think that she has one. She must have had one. And even if we don’t know it, or get to read it or hear about it, God knows it. God knew her story. I think of those Nigerian girls who were abducted. They have names. They have stories. We don’t know their stories, but they have them.

We don’t often hear the stories of slaves, or the oppressed, or the people on the bottom of the social hierarchy. Even the Bible’s writers had their blind spots. They were products of their time. I’m not going to fault the writer here for not thinking much of a slave girl. Slavery was so common at the time, such a normal part of life, it wasn’t even really questioned as to whether it ought to exist. It just did. It was a part of life, nothing strange. So no fault for them being products of their time. We have evolved and come to think that slavery is not a good thing. But we do have that question, Why is this slave girl’s story not told?

There is nothing in the Bible that is anti-slavery. But we have come to accept a position over the years, most people around the world (though we know that slavery still exists – Jodi Emerson from Fierce Freedom spoke about it here in December) that slavery is bad. One thing I’ve found interesting about Fierce Freedom’s presence in town is how so many churches, that otherwise argue over many things, have come together on this. Liberal, conservative, Evangelical, mainline, Pentecostal, have come together on an anti-slavery position. We have, Jacob’s Well, Peace Lutheran, First Lutheran, Calvary Baptist, all claiming that slavery is evil. Perhaps this is a first step of finding some common ground to work together on those things we are in agreement on, even as we disagree on others. To come together, even if we disagree on some things.

I had another experience on Monday of this coming together. A couple gentleman down at the Senior Center have put together a series of lectures/classes called “The Faith of My Neighbors” about religions and religious issues. Tomorrow they are having a class on the difference between Sunnis, Shi’ites, and Kurds, and in a few weeks they’ll have a Hmong spiritual leader talking about Hmong animism/spirituality. This last Monday they invited me, and Roger Galstad from Grace Communion Church, to talk about science and religion because we have different perspectives. You might remember back in February I had an article in the religion section about faith and science, from a pro-science perspective. That same day, Roger had an article in the editorial page about the same topic, but from an anti-evolution and anti-climate change perspective, coming from his Biblical literalism. The two men at the Senior Center thought it would be interesting to have the two of us come and talk about this topic from our two perspectives. Not to try to convince anyone of our correctness, but to speak to our own stories. So Roger told his story, and I told mine. We disagreed. Disagreed quite a lot, really. But we agreed on certain things of faith: Easter, the empty tomb; Jesus as savior; God incarnate in Jesus; the command to love our neighbors. We had common ground there on the essentials of faith. But what was really interesting is what happened a few times while we were speaking, and after we were done. People were not impressed, overall, so much by what we said about science, or how we read the Bible, or biblical authority. They were impressed, they said, with how Roger and I spent an hour and a half sitting right next to each other and disagreeing on so much, and yet we never attacked one another, never belittled each other, said men things, denied the humanity of the other... we were quite civil. And I thought how sad that we are in such a time, with so much toxicity in our public dialogue among politicians, pundits, even churches, so much nastiness that people were surprised that two men would be civil to one another while they disagreed.

Wow! What a powerful moment that was, not even about science and religion, but that the two of us offered a model that you don’t have to hate each other just because you disagree on something. It’s not an all-or-nothing affair. You can hear each others’ stories and affirm one another even if we don’t agree with all of it. When we don’t let someone tell their story, or when we don’t listen when they do tell it, that’s a problem. Whether it’s politicians not listening to one another. Or some of the back and forth shouting we’ve had on the Confluence project here in Eau Claire. Other issues on a national level, like our long debates on homosexuality, abortion, the environment, corporate regulation, where it seems no real conversation is going on but it is just shouting back and forth. Then I think of how powerful the experience has been when we do listen to one another. Think of our own church tradition, how good it has been for us and for the world, once we started listening to the stories of women, and affirmed that women could have viable and important spiritual stories, or social stories. Or when we started listening to the stories of slaves. And when we started listening to the stories of African Americans during the 40s, 50s, and 60s during the Civil Rights movement. Listening to the stories of migrant workers. Or our LGBT brothers and sisters. Or like in our Street Ministry, listening to the stories of people who live on the streets, who struggle, who are having difficulty. To listen to their stories, to let them be told: that’s the power of the Church! That’s what the church is about and ought to be about! Lifting up the stories of those who are otherwise silenced, so that their stories can be heard. So they have a voice. To speak on their behalf, or hopefully find a way to let them speak. Even if we disagree. To hear each others’ truths.

And so I’m bothered by this story in Acts. She’s the pivot point in this story. She doesn’t make anything happen or set things in motion, but everything happens because of her. And she gets ignored like so many women, and so many others, even today get ignored. Get used for something and then are ignored. Like the Nigerian girls abducted for no reason other than that they thought they ought to have an education equal to the other half of the population. A thought which threatened some people. Simply because they thought they had a right to an education, that they had a right to life, they were abducted. As Boko Haram has said, they did so with plans to sell them into slavery as though they aren’t people with stories, but are just females, just girls, they don’t matter. Just objects, things to be used by men as tools or commodities to be bought and sold with no more than thought than you might trade in a car or rip up the old carpeting to replace it with new.

And so we lift up their stories here in the church. Many are lifting up the Nigerian girls today. And we lift up the story of this unnamed slave girl, who shows up in scripture, even though it tells us very little. We lift up their stories even though we don’t know much about them. To remind the world that they do have stories. As followers of Jesus, as Christians, we can say to them as God to says to us, that even if we don’t know them personally, “You matter. You are important to God, you are important to us, you are important to me because you are also God’s creation. You are God’s son or God’s daughter. You matter.”

And though we don’t know all their stories, we want their stories to be heard and to tell the world to listen to their stories. Listen to them, and say to them, “Though we know little of your story, we are in solidarity with you. We are in solidarity with you as we are with all people whose stories do not get to be told.”

Amen.

Boko Haram and abducting girls, and women's value in the world

My thoughts on the story out of Nigeria, which leads me to think of human trafficking in general, but also women's rights specifically, in response to this:

Fears for the fate of more than 200 Nigerian girls turned even more nightmarish Monday when the leader of the Islamist militant group that kidnapped them announced plans to sell them.

"I abducted your girls. I will sell them in the market, by Allah," a man claiming to be Boko Haram leader Abubakar Shekau said in a video first obtained by Agence France-Presse.

"There is a market for selling humans. Allah says I should sell. He commands me to sell. I will sell women. I sell women," he continued, according to a CNN translation from the local Hausa language.

Boko Haram is a terrorist group receiving training from al Qaeda affiliates, according to U.S. officials. Its name means "Western education is sin." In his nearly hourlong, rambling video, Shekau repeatedly called for Western education to end.

The selling or trading of any human being is an incredible evil. Selling or trading a human being simply because she's female and is therefore considered to be even less value than a "normal" human being, is a greater evil. Any faith, any political system, any social structure, any institution that cannot accept educated girls or women, or female leaders, or cannot offer equal access to all religious rites/rights/writings for women needs to die. Preferably to die only to the old ways and reborn in new ways, but if unwilling to do so, it just needs to die. Humanity - even in the Christian Church - lives too much in the binary, too little in the unity.

Obviously the folks at Boko Haram think differently than I do, and normally I entertain the thought that I might be wrong and the other person might be right. But not in this case. Sometimes lines have to be drawn, and that line is to drawn such that any thought that devalues human life, especially women, is outside the line. Sorry, Boko Haram, but you are horribly, dangerously, heinously, evilly wrong.

For more news, see this: http://www.cnn.com/2014/05/05/world/africa/nigeria-abducted-girls/

Doing a science and religion talk with a biblical literalist pastor who is anti-evolution

This morning I was a co-speaking at the Senior Center on the topic of religion and science with another pastor in town, Roger Galstad, a Biblical literalist who is definitely anti-evolution (though believes the earth, geology-speaking, to be 4.5 billions years old, and the universe to be whatever the scientists say it is) and a self-professed person who does not know science.

Back in February or early March, it just happened that we each had articles in the local newspaper on the same day: me from a pro-science "religion and science are not enemies" attitude, and his with a "religion and science may not be enemies, but an idea like evolution clearly violates a literal reading of Scripture so must be false, and also, climate change is false"* attitude. So, the organizer at the Senior Center thought it would be a good program to bring us both in to talk to their group of seniors, who are in the second week of a five-week program called "Faith of my neighbors".

Our hour and a half ended up not being very much about science and religion, but almost entirely about our (and other) different approaches of biblical interpretation and reading, and understanding of the writing, development, transmission, and canonization of the biblical texts.

Our time together was set up to be mostly a dialogue with the audience, a chance for each of us to present not the correctness of our interpretations, but to offer our crowd a view into two different ways of approaching the topic of science and religion: how Roger does it and how I do it. Not versus each other, not trying to "win" an argument, but just offering our own stories.

Roger went first with a chance to speak, and he mostly offered a series of scriptural prooftexting of why Christianity is right and, from that, how to understand the universe and science through scripture only. Which for him is (and I am reducing his thoughts to a short form, so it is not as nuanced as he offered) summed up with the statement that the Bible says Jesus created everything (John 1) [and that's a fair interpretation of the scripture], and that humanity is the pinnacle of creation more special than all other life forms to have dominion over all the created order, that we are some day to be judges over the angels, and that creation was done exactly as the Bible says it was, and that between Genesis 1:1 and Genesis 1:2 is when Lucifer was booted out of heaven, and was sent to earth specifically later mess with humanity, once God got around to creating us. Galstad also has a way of exegeting Genesis chapter 1 and Genesis chapter 2 to be telling the same story without contradiction or variation, but I don't buy it. Thankfully, before he mentioned it today he had written about it - and I have that writing. But even after multiple readings, I still don't understand the hermeneutical aeronautics he did to get to the conclusion that they offer the same literal story.

He really didn't hit the topic of science very much. He was and is much more concerned with issues of salvation, and part of salvation is believing in Jesus, and part of believing in Jesus is taking scripture literally (except those parts that are clearly not meant to be taken literally, to quote him).

Then I spoke about my history of being fascinated with science, wanting to know how the universe works, studying science and engineering, and why I think that science and religion do not need to be enemies or at opposite ends with one another. In my prepared speech, I hit heavy on how the big issue, as I see it, isn't so much that science and religion are at odds with one another, but that the idea that they are at odds with one another is a manufactured controversy that really is rooted in difference of biblical/scriptural interpretation and divine revelation. Can God self-reveal only in the scripture handed to us, or in nature as well? I think so. Others, such as the Creation Science/ID camp, do not.

Most of the questions we took today really ended up being about interpretation and reading scripture. Not many questions about science per se, nor questions about evolution. I was surprised at how the questions kept coming back to how scripture is read and authority is found in/from it.

But, I'm so glad that is where the conversation went!

Roger and I sat next to each other the whole time, we disagreed with one another, and were honest about how we felt, with generosity and gentleness for the most part. Never did we accuse one another of being stupid, deficient, unchristian, unfaithful... we had a lot of compliments afterward about how we were so civil to one another. To which I said, "Well, we're brothers in Christ. However we might interpret our faith, we're created by God and we follow the same guy - there's gotta be some respect just in that."

And we also found that even though our paths to a particular faith claim might vary hugely, we often came to the same place - God as Creator of all; Jesus as the savior; God incarnate in Jesus; the importance of scripture. We differ on what some of those terms mean, and how we get there, and we each have faith claims that the other does not share at all, but ultimately we are in agreement on probably a lot more than we disagree with.

Whatever we said about science and religion, whatever we said about scriptural interpretation, whatever the purpose of today's session was, I think that what the people there heard most loudly is this: It's possible to speak one's truth AND to disagree with someone else's truth, without needing to win, dehumanize, or be mean.

It is that which I heard the most from people who were there who spoke to me afterward, and I found it surprising.

But given some of the nastiness in our political process and in our intra-Christian dialogue, perhaps I shouldn't be.

What do you think?


[* and yes, he did end his article by moving into a denial of climate change. I wish I could link to it, but the newspaper only keeps the articles online for a few days]

Intuitive, Recognizer, Fleshy, Scientist Thomas. A sermon for Easter 2.

The first Sunday after Easter (which is actually called the Second Sunday of Easter), we usually get the story of the disciple we call "Doubting Thomas", who doubted that Jesus had come back to life. In this sermon, I explore why Thomas might have wanted some fleshly proof of Jesus' resurrection, as we likely all would. What would you do if you heard that a loved one had come back to life? What would you want to do with that person?

“Intuitive, Recognizer, Fleshy, Scientist Thomas”

Sermon, Year A, Easter 2, April 27, 2014

Plymouth United Church of Christ, Eau Claire, WI

© Rev. David J. Huber

Focus Scripture: John 20:19-31 

Thomas touched Jesus. He touched Jesus! Touched the risen Jesus. The risen Jesus that mysteriously appeared in the room that they had locked themselves in. An extraordinary moment, I should think. Imagine being Thomas. You’ve watched your friend die. Watched him be crucified. You were there, or at least heard, about putting Jesus’ body into the tomb. Then you hgear from your friends a few days later that they have seen him. That he has risen! He’s been resurrected, and come back to life. You hear the news that he is now alive!

Then you get a chance to see him. To know that what you have heard is true. And you have a chance to touch him. To touch Jesus. Fleshy, incarnate, human Jesus. Imagine touching someone that you thought is dead. Someone that you know is dead.

There are times I have wished I could touch my parents again. Get a hug from my mom, taste her rhubarb pie again. To have a handshake from my dad again. I don’t know if there is an equivalent for women, but for males, many of us have that experience with our dads of shaking their hands many times over the years while growing up but there comes that one handshake that you can tell, you can feel, that dad is not shaking hands with a boy any more but shaking hands with a fellow man. I had that experience, and I would like to experience it again.

We are a fleshly people. We live in bodies. We are embodied. We touch one another. Hold hands while passing the peace. Hugging. We communicate through fleshly interaction. We can even communicate thoughts, ideas, hopes, and prayers that words themselves cannot express. The hand on the shoulder. The pat on the back. The handshake. The hug. Communicating things that words alone cannot do, or do as well.

Though even words, speech, is also a fleshy touchy kind of act. It’s a physical act. I speak and set the air in motion. The air moves toward you, touches your eardrum and sets it in motion. It then creates patterns in your brain that communicate my thoughts into your head. It is a physical act, speaking. This is probably why noise polution is so psychologically damaging, because it is forced touch. It is like being poked repeatedly by something you can’t stop or shut out. You can’t stop sound from coming in.

We are fleshy, touchy people. You may remember the old telephone ad: “Reach out and touch someone.” Touch them by phone.

To touch again a loved one. A friend who has moved away. The baby sitter we remember but haven’t seen since we were baby sat. Someone from your past, like a teacher or a mentor. Or a mother or father, wife or husband or lover, who has died. Who is no longer around to touch. But we don’t get to touch them again. Not if they have died.

Not if they have died. We don’t get to touch them again. But that desire is there. I have seen over the years of doing and being at funerals, many times a spouse giving a last kiss, touch of the forehead or hair or holding hands, that one last time before the undertaker closes the casket before the funeral. To touch one last time. One last touch before the tomb is sealed. To put body to body.

After my dad died, I remember talking to mom a few months later catching up with her, asking how she was doing. We got to talking about her times of grief and pain and what the daily routines were like. And she said that of all the ways that she missed my dad, of all the moments of pain that came up throughout the day of missing dad and realizing he’s not there, she said the most painful moment of every day was getting into bed alone. That, for her, was the hardest part of dad being dad. To not have someone else in the bed. The rest of the day felt more normal, but at bedtime it really came home to her that there was no body there.

So I am not going to blame Thomas here for wanting to touch Jesus. I’m not going to blame Thomas or call him names.

Because we all know that we do not get to touch again those who have died. And Thomas wants to touch his friend who has died who had come back. Of course he wants to touch him! I think we all would want to touch those that we were sure were dead. I would want to hold again my parents, relatives, friends who have died if they came back. Absolutely. Partly just to make sure they’re real, that I’m not hallucinating, but mostly to feel their flesh against my flesh again.

Doubting Thomas? Not at all. I think that’s an awful name to saddle him with through all these years. Doubting Thomas? I think we all would have been Doubting Insert Your Name Here.

We are fleshy beings. Thomas wants to touch. Even our sacraments are physical. The bread and the wine of Communion. Bread is physical. You can touch it. Break it. Hear it breaking. Taste it. Feel the texture. The wine makes sound as it pours. It has taste. The feel of the liquid in your mouth. It has a temperature, a feel. Baptism’s water is wet, touchable, it flows, it has a sound to it, a color, a smell, a shape.

So of course Thomas wants to touch and have some fleshly proof. That’s just goo science, too. To be a little skeptical. To say, “Well, let me test it with my senses. I don’t want to believe it just because you said it. I want to touch it, see it, feel it.” Maybe we could call him Scientific Thomas. “Let me embrace him one more time!” Friend Thomas. Thomas who says, “My Lord and my God.” Recognizer Thomas! He knows who Jesus is. The other disciples don’t make that connection between Jesus their friend, Jesus their Lord, Jesus the flesh, and Jesus the God. Thomas, though, makes the connection of them all being one. Intuitive Thomas! Good Thomas! Insightful Thomas! Faith Proclaiming Thomas!

Thank God for Thomas and for all the Thomases who ask that question, “Why should I believe you just because you say it is so?” Who want to trust with their senses as well. With their flesh. All those Thomases who by asking lead us to even greater truths, or more extraordinary truths, by refusing to settle for easy answers. Or settle for simple questions. Or to accept unexplored, unquestioned claims. Inquisitive Thomas!

John’s Gospel begins, the very first words of his Gospel, with “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” Then a few verses later it says, “And the Word of God became flesh and lived among us.” That’s the beginning of the Gospel. And what we read today is the ending of the Gospel. Though there is actually some more after this, this story is the real ending of the Gospel. The words we read today, these words of Thomas, tie the Gospel together. The opening words are confirmed by Thomas, who refused to live by faith and not by sight. Thomas, who wanted to live by both faith and sight, and by demanding both he has the insight to roll away the stone on those first words of this Gospel and see their fulfillment in the resurrected Jesus as he says, “My Lord AND my God.”

“You are my Lord,” he says, “I see you are also my God. You are God made flesh dwelling among us.”

Incarnate, human, fleshy. Intimate, present, touchable God.

Amen.

"Do Not Be Afraid – He Is Risen!" Easter sermon 2014

“Do Not Be Afraid – He Is Risen!”

Sermon, Year A, Easter, April 20, 2014

Plymouth United Church of Christ, Eau Claire, WI

©2014 Rev. David J. Huber

Focus Scripture: Matthew 28:1-10 

He is risen! He is risen indeed! Jesus is risen! Jesus is risen indeed! The tomb is empty on this morning. “You are looking for Jesus, but he is not here, for he has been raised.” He has come back to life. No longer in the tomb. Now that is good news! That is The Good News!

But I’m not sure, if I were there at the tomb that morning, how I would have taken this good news. If I would have thought immediately, “Oh, that’s a good thing.” I think I might have been afraid. Certainly surprised. I’m used to dead things staying dead. I had seen Jesus crucified a couple days before. We knew that he had died. I’m used to dead things staying dead. But God does things differently. God often has a surprise ready for us. Likes to do things not in the way that we expect.

I’m also not used to seeing angels. I think that would be a bit of a shock to see an angel. I’ve never seen one. Not a real angel, anyway. Not the kind that the women encountered here at the tomb. I’ve encountered many angels in my life, including many of you people here. People who have lent a helping hand, or a meal, or a visit during a time of loneliness. The kinds who offer aid on the side of the road, or give a phone call when you need it. I’ve experienced those kinds of angels, including you. But none of you come with earthquakes and lightning. I thank you for that. That would be even more terrifying than the presence of the angel itself.

If I were to encounter a biblical kind of angel, I probably would be terrified. It would be so unusual and different. Out of my realm of experience. Now I would like to think that being a rational, modern person who has read the scripture and read the many times and knowing the stories that angels say “Do not be afraid!” I would be totally prepared to encounter an angel. “Don’t be afraid” is the first ting they always say. So I would like to think that I would be totally prepared, and would greet the angel calmly and rationally and without fear. “Oh, hello, angel. What’s up? I’ve read the scripture. I know what’s about to happen. You’re about to give me a message, aren’t you? Well, I’m ready. Bring it on. I’m not afraid because I know I’m not supposed to be. Deliver your message. But let’s get a selfie first.”

That’s my ideal of handling it. But I would likely be scared out of my boots and trembling, unable to speak coherently. Much in the way that I get incoherent when I meet a celebrity or other people I admire that I really want to talk to but when I meet them I can’t manage more than stuttering, mumbling, and a pathetic, “Gee, I love your stuff.”

No, I’d be scared out of my boots or really nervous. I think that I would want to hear what angels always say, what the angel here said to the women: “Do not be afraid, O mortal. Do not fear.”

And I’d say to myself, “Okay, note to self: Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Try not to be afraid.”

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me, and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.[This is the Bene Gesserit Litany of Fear from Dune, by Frank Herbert, one of my all-time absolutely favorite novels/series]

“Do not be afraid,” the angel would say. And being sarcastic, I might respond, “Well, if you stopped with the earthquake and lightning thing...”

Do not be afraid. That’s the Easter message. We get it twice in this passage.

Do not be afraid. Jesus is risen, so do not be afraid. Jesus has flipped over the powers of this world so you don’t need to fear. Jesus has made all things new. There is nothing to be afraid of. In Jesus there is life and resurrection and new life. So you have nothing to fear.

And when Jesus appears to the women he says to them, “Greetings. Don’t be afraid.”

The first words of the risen Christ: Do not fear.

It’s a mantra that runs through all of scripture. Do not fear, do not be afraid. The things of this world might hurt you, but they cannot defeat you. They can do things to you, but they do not have ultimate power over you. Don’t fear the Roman Empire that killed Jesus because he is greater than any government, government power, or human power. Do not fear the sting of death because Jesus has taken it away. Do not fear the power of violence because Jesus’ way of love has proven it to be impotent. Do not fear the power of sickness for Jesus is the great healer who walks with you through it, that no matter what it does to your body it cannot take away your humanity, your dignity, or your connection to God and God’s love. Do not fear what others say about you, or if they tease you or bully you, because your identity is in God, not in what those people want you to be or say that you are.

Do not fear the tomb. Do not fear any of the tombs that we experience in our lives. The tombs that deprive us of life, hope, or love. Because Jesus has emptied them out and filled their dark spaces with light of love and life. Don’t fear the past, because it is gone. Don’t fear the present, for I am with you. Don’t fear the future, for it is not here yet and I am going ahead of you. I will be there as well. Because I am alive and I am always with you.

Those are words of comfort and hope. And in some ways also sort of scary at some level, to know that Jesus is always with us. That does come with some level of responsibility that we live accordingly. But to know that even when we don’t live accordingly, when we fall short of that mark, Jesus is still there. Jesus is still Love and Life and Hope.

Don’t be afraid! “I came out of the tomb because of you. I defeated death because of you. I had to do it because I love you too much to leave you alone. I simply could not leave you alone.”

That is the Easter message. That’s the message of the empty tomb. Have hope! Don’t be afraid. Have peace! Have joy! Have love! Have life!

I know that my redeemer lives. Alleluiah! We say this day, Alleluiah, he is risen! He is risen indeed! Amen.

“This is What Love Looks Like: A Parable in Three Acts”, sermon from Maundy Thursday

“This is What Love Looks Like: A Parable in Three Acts”

Sermon, Year A, Maundy Thursday, April 17, 2014

Plymouth United Church of Christ, Eau Claire, WI

© Rev. David J. Huber

Focus Scripture: John 13:1-17, 31b-35

During Lent this year, our Wednesday night and noon Soupo and Scripture time together we looked at some of Jesus’ parables of the Kingdom of Heaven. Also called the Realm of God, the Commonwealth of God, the Egalitarian Community of God, whatever we might like to call it. We looked at these parables that Jesus offered to us to show us what that world was/is like. What God’s intent is for us. I found them to be quite good discussions with a lot of good comments and good conversation. Those of you that were here, I hope you also found them enlightening and helpful and that you learned about what it is, this Realm of God. God’s topsy-turvy way of doing things. Turning things on their end, flipping them upside down from what we might often think of how things ought to be.

This Kingdom, this Realm, that Jesus talked about is where a man sells all that he has just to possess a single wonderful pearl.

Where a shepherd leaves ninety-nine sheep to go search for one. Or a woman spends great energy searching for a single lost coin.

Where seeds are sown in extravagance.

Where a debt of even 150,000 years’ worth of labor is forgiven and a slave is set free.

Where workers in a field receive enough wages to survive for a day, whether they started early in the morning or late in the afternoon.

Where the king rides a donkey into the capital city through a back door, and not in triumph, but to become a victim.

We have a parable in tonight’s Gospel lesson. It is a parable of action, not a parable of words that Jesus spoke. Rather, Jesus is doing this parable, showing us, “This is what the Realm looks like.” Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. He washes his disciples’ feet. This is an intimate, physical act. And in doing so he’s setting up another parable. The realm of God is like this: A king stoops down to the floor to wash a subjects’ feet and to dry them with his own robe.

We also in this reading have another parable within the parable. The realm is like this: A king who knows a certain will betray him, stoops down to the floor and washes his feet and dries them with his own robe and as he rises up he takes that man’s hand and invites him to the table saying, “You need to eat. Come and eat.” And he feeds him the bread and wine, feeding him his body and his blood.

That’s what Jesus is talking about! That’s what it looks like. “Love one another as I have loved you.” No distinction of rank or social status. Not even any distinction of what is in a person’s heart. A simple commandment: Love one another. Unconditionally. Love one another as I have loved you.

As you continue your journey through this evening’s readings, and those of tomorrow if you come to the Good Friday worship, and hear Jesus’ story think of it as a parable that says “This is what love looks like.”

Amen.

Palm Sunday Anti-King, sermon from Palm Sunday 2014

“Palm Sunday Anti-King”

Sermon, Year A, Palm Sunday, April 13, 2014

Plymouth United Church of Christ, Eau Claire, WI

© Rev. David J. Huber

Focus Scripture: Matthew 21:1-11

We are at the beginning of Holy Week. This is Palm Sunday today. Holy Week is one continuous experience of worship, so there will be no benediction at the end of today, or Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday. It all flows through until Easter as one long week of worship.

Today is Palm Sunday. The beginning of Jesus’ final week. This is the day that Jesus comes into Jerusalem on a donkey. In the Gospel of Matthew text we read, he comes in on a donkey and a colt (a foal of a donkey), because Matthew chose a prophetic passage out of Isaiah that included both a donkey and a colt. But let’s just say he comes in on a donkey. Comes into town in a big parade with palms waving and people shouting “Hosanna in the highest!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” A wonderful prayer that was in the Psalm we read and shows up in other places in the Old Testament scriptures. They wave, they shout, and they put their cloaks down. It’s a great, wonderful parade as Jesus comes into Jerusalem.

Very much like an emperor coming into town after a victory. Or like a governor. Or some other high ranking important official or general coming in to a capitol city in triumph, proudly riding a horse or being driven on a chariot with lots of soldiers, fanfare, and people also shouting and cheering their leader or hero. Very much like that. Jesus comes into Jerusalem this way. It is a king-like or emperor-like maneuver for Jesus to come in this way.

Except that Jesus doesn't come in through the front gate, like a political ruler or military hero.

Jesus comes in through the side or the back.

He comes in not with all the official fanfare, he comes in through the side. He doesn’t come in on a horse or being driven by a chariot, but comes in on a humble donkey. Very much like his mother rode in the Christmas story. And there is no bearing of weapons. Just palms and cloaks on the ground. He enters like a king, but as an anti-king. He enters in an anti-way from what might be expected. We talked in our Soup and Scripture about the realm of God, commonwealth of God, parables of the Kingdom of Heaven as being different from ours. God’s realm as a topsy-turvy upside down version of our own. So Jesus comes in as a king, but not as a king. In an anti-way. And in a sense, by coming in that way, this also is another parable of what the Realm of God looks like.

In the Realm of God, the one who is the supposed ruler comes in on a donkey. He is the humble one. Jesus, who has preached humility, service to others, love for neighbors, uplifting those on the margins, eating with those he wasn’t supposed to eat with, bringing into his circle of friends the people he wasn’t supposed to be friends with, healing the sick. That Jesus continues to live that way even in the way he comes into Jerusalem. He does not come in as the triumphant one to enter his final week. He comes as a victim. And even there was no procession, if he had not come in on a donkey and with the palms, this is still a pretty radical action for him to come into town. Even had he and his disciples come in as they normally would, it would have been a radical move because he knows what is going to happen. He knows what is going to happen and he comes anyway. He does not come in to claim a great victory or celebrate a great victory that he’s had, he comes into Jerusalem to be the victim. To be the one that others will be victorious over.

This is not going to be an easy week for Jesus. And if you come on Maundy Thursday (and I suggest you do) you’ll hear the story of what happens that week. Or come to the Good Friday service at First Congregational at noon, and you will hear the story. You will hear how the Hosannas of today become the “Crucify him!” of Friday morning.

Then on Easter morning, as Jesus rises from the tomb, we will come to even greater joy than we know today in this Palm Sunday parade into Jerusalem. It can be difficult to know the full joy of Easter without having walked with Jesus through the whole week. Walking with Jesus through the whole experience. So I recommend that you come to one of those services, or come to both. They are very moving and meaningful experiences. The ups and the downs, the hosannas and the betrayals, the crucifixion followed by that empty tomb on Easter morning. It is a powerful faith builder to hear that story. It has been for me, anyway. To hear this story, even though I hear it every year and know how it goes and how it ends up. Still, every year, for me this is a really powerful experience and faith-building experience. It brings me closer to God.

To walk with Jesus through his whole journey strengthens my faith, and enlarges my faith.

But today is a day of joy. Our savior is coming into Jerusalem! Our king, our lord, our friend, our guide, is coming into his city to great fanfare of his friends and great joy. In a world that has too little joy, and too little hope, and too little goodness, I say, Let’s enjoy the moment today! Not dwell on what will happen the rest of the week, but enjoy today, enjoy Palm Sunday and take part in the parade and the procession and the shouting of “Hosannas!” as a way of saying a protest against darkness and against evil, “My Lord lives and the power of love is supreme!”

Part of our Christian witness is to say that evil and darkness do not get to win. Love reigns supreme. As I mentioned, at the end of the service we will hand out palms and we will have a procession around the sanctuary as we sing in joy and triumph as we remember the Hosannas and the words “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Amen.