The Unhindered Gospel

The people at The First U.P. Church of Crafton Heights are spending much of the 2023-2024 academic yearlooking at the story of God’s people as recorded in the New Testament book of Acts.  We engage in this series of messages convinced of the fact that God’s power changes apparently small and nondescript groups of people into a force that will change the world in ways that are reflective of the love and justice of Jesus.  On January 7, 2024 we observed the Day of Epiphany with a service that included communion and sharing from Acts 8:26-40.

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Maybe you were surprised when you came into worship this morning and saw all the Christmas decorations still up.  Maybe you wondered about why we are still singing Christmas carols when the rest of the world is trying to get you excited about the next big sales opportunities…

Today we celebrate the Day of Epiphany with the church of Jesus Christ. Traditionally, that’s the day when we remember the Magi and their visit to the Christ child.  In addition to marking the formal end of the Christmas (the twelfth day of Christmas), the festival of Epiphany remembers the inclusion of these odd outsiders, the non-religious foreigners who welcome the holy child and it reminds the church that the light of Jesus is for everyone, not just insiders.

This year is the first time in a long time that I’m not reading Matthew 2 on Epiphany Sunday.  Instead, we will continue in our year-long (or more!) study in the Book of Acts. It is a wonderful coincidence that today’s reading is in fact an Epiphany celebration that reflects and amplifies much of what we understand to be true in the story of the Wise Ones who visited the Christ Child.

 Our story today centers on a man named Philip, whom we’ve met on several occasions in our journey through Acts, and for whom I have increasing affection.  Perhaps you remember him as an affirmative-action hire that the young church made back in Acts 6.  The Greek-speaking Jewish Christians were experiencing inequality, and so the leadership team addressed that by inviting seven Greek men to become the first Deacons.  You may also remember that this arrangement didn’t last long, due to the untimely death of one of those Deacons, a man named Stephen who was killed before he’d had a chance to really serve as a Deacon.

Perhaps you were here last week, as we celebrated Philip’s passion and commitment.  When Stephen’s death scattered the church leadership, Philip hightailed it to Samaria, where he wasted no time telling anyone who would listen all about the welcome and grace he’d found in Jesus.  While in Samaria, he befriended and even baptized a local celebrity named Simon the Magician – a man who was so smitten by Philip’s love for Jesus that he “stayed constantly” with Philip.

Today’s reading raises the bar for Philip yet again.  Instead of encountering some local talent like Simon the Magician, he finds himself face to face with a powerful foreign official.  It takes place, not in Samaria, but on a road south of Jerusalem that leads to Gaza.  As Black feminist Biblical scholar Wil Gafney points out, this is a remote area, and there is no single road leading the 50 miles from Jerusalem to Gaza that could accommodate a chariot.  Philip has left the hinterlands of Samaria for the desolation of a place that is marked by a patchwork of roads that zig and zag through its hills and valleys.

 Philip plants himself here, where the Holy Spirit has instructed him to go, and before long he encounters the motorcade of a high-ranking Ethiopian official.  Although he’s not named in the Bible, an African tradition refers to him as Qinaqis.  We are told that he is the Secretary of the Treasury to the Queen of Ethiopia – an impressive position in a kingdom that included not only what we know as Ethiopia today, but also Sudan and other parts of northeast Africa.  The text tells us that this man had gone to Jerusalem in order to worship, but anyone who knew anything about worship and Jerusalem and the Bible knew that could not have been possible.  After all, the Bible is clear that people like him were not welcome in worship.  He’s got at least three strikes against him:

• Qinaqis is a gentile; that is, he’s not Jewish.  Most of the Temple is automatically off-limits to gentiles.
• He’s a member of a sexual minority. Luke describes him as a “eunuch”, a word that was used in several ways in that era.  It often referred to a male who had been surgically altered to remove his genitals.  There are some reasons to believe that this word is used to describe queer people.  In any case, Deuteronomy 23 and Leviticus 20, along with other parts of the Old Testament, are crystal clear that folk like this person are forbidden to worship.
• His politics are all wrong. He’s not an Israelite! He’s connected with a foreign heathen feminist.

The man we meet in Acts 8 is, in his very being, against all the rules.  There’s no way he’d have been invited into worship in the Temple in Jerusalem.

And Philip’s response to all of this? He strikes up a conversation and extends a welcome.  He didn’t need to do that; all of the good religious people would have encouraged Philip to keep his distance.  Some, in fact, would have helpfully pointed out some of those verses that he could have chosen to trot out and use as weapons against this man.  Yet Philip chose not to weaponize his faith, and instead chooses to engage with vulnerability and humility.  Philip runs up alongside of the chariot, and hears the man reading from the prophet Isaiah.

And when you hear that, you think, “Wow, we just read a lot of Isaiah, too!  All during Advent, we considered the prophecy.

The Baptism of the Eunuch (detail) Rembrandt van Rijn, 1626

The traveler asks Philip about the passage.  It comes from what we call the “suffering servant” chapter of Isaiah 53, and it describes a person who was forced into silence, who was humiliated, and who was unable to have a family of his own.  Could it be that the Ethiopian eunuch was reflecting on an experience of rejection and shame in Jerusalem and had discovered this passage in the scroll of Isaiah on the way home?

If you’d have been there when the foreigner asked the Deacon about the reading from Isaiah, you’d have probably said, “Well, let’s remember that prophecy has to make sense it its own time, even as we understand that the truth of scripture may expand into other times.  In this passage, Isaiah was probably talking about the nation of Israel as the people of God who have been rejected and humiliated, but we can understand that there are applications that go far beyond that…”

Yes, Isaiah 53 does talk about this “suffering servant”, and it probably did refer initially to those who worked to do what was right but who were constantly thwarted by poor leadership and other factors.  Yet I suspect that Philip, who we know was excited to tell the traveler “the good news about Jesus”, was able to help him see not only Jesus, but himself in these verses.  Whatever it was exactly that Philip says, it got the Ethiopian right in the feels, and when they came upon a pool of water, the question popped out before the man had had time to really consider the implications: “What would keep me from being baptized?”

If he’d have stopped to think about it, of course, he probably could’ve come up with a laundry list of things that some people might use to keep him out… but before HE stopped to think about it, Philip was standing in the water next to this bureaucrat from Ethiopia administering the sacrament of baptism to someone who’d been excluded by religious rule keepers for far too long.

And at the end of the day, the way of Jesus is introduced to the continent of Africa long before it ever shows up in Europe or the Americas.  God chose to use an excluded and marginalized individual to announce the welcome and love of Jesus to an entirely new group of people.  Dr. Gafney says “when God decided to give birth to the African Church, a Church that survives into modernity without schism or reformation, and God appointed Philip as its midwife, and that… eunuch becomes God’s firstborn in this new and continuing community.”

You see? This is an Epiphany Story – the work of God is to make outsiders into insiders and strangers into family!

As we consider this text in our own time, I have a couple of thoughts as to application.

I don’t know about you, but I am someone who has been taught to use the Bible as a weapon.  I mean, I’m sure that the people who gave it to me in this way were thinking that they were defending or protecting something or someone – God, or truth, or orthodoxy, or even me.  But the reality is that too many of us have been conditioned to look for verses that exclude or marginalize other people, and to point to them, and to say, “See?  This is the Word of God, and it says that you don’t belong!”

If you’re someone who’s been down this road, beloved, let me encourage you to please, please, please, give that a rest.   If we’ve learned anything from Christmas, I hope it’s that Jesus has come, not just for a few, but for all.  Didn’t we sing, “Light and life to all he brings / risen with healing in his wings!”?

Perhaps some of us can look at Philip and his way of being faithful to Jesus and living in the world and adopt for ourselves a New Year’s Resolution of seeking to make our first word in new relationships and in new conversations to be one of welcome, and not exclusion; one of embrace, and not of judgment.

And I’m sure that there are some in the room this morning who have been on the receiving end of such a weaponized Gospel.  Have you been attacked, or excluded, or made to feel somehow less-than because something about you didn’t fit into a mold that was convenient for some religious people to use?  Honestly: if we’ve learned anything from the history of the church it’s that too many times people who claim to be following Jesus can be knuckleheads or downright evil.

If you have been kicked out or pushed aside or left waiting because you are too much of this or not enough of that for some people, know this: the promises of God are for you.  The Gospel as we see it flowing through the lives and the pages of the book of Acts is unhindered.

Look: the table is set.  Receive the embrace of God through the presence of Jesus.

And may we all declare that thanks be to God who sometimes sends us into deserts on what may seem to us to be wild-goose chases.  And thanks be to God who is ready to meet us in the desert roads.  And thanks be to God for removing hindrances and making a way – then, and now, and in the days that lie ahead.  Amen.

The Big Picture

During the fall of 2022, the people of The First U.P. Church of Crafton Heights are considering a series of Jesus’ statements in the Fourth Gospel that contain the phrase “I am”. Our hope is that in doing so, we’ll be able to hear the Lord in his own words, and resist our culture’s temptation to speak ABOUT the Lord, rather than WITH the Lord.  On October 9, 2022, we spent some time thinking about what makes Jesus a shepherd, or a “good shepherd”, or even “The good shepherd.”  Our scripture references included John 10:11-18 and Zephaniah 3:14-20.

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I suspect you’ve heard some variation of this old chestnut: it’s the start of another day in heaven, and, as usual, Saint Peter is showing the new folks around.  In addition to the streets paved with gold, there are all kinds of fancy buildings, many reverberating with amazing music.  The group passes one Cathedral, and Peter says, “Yep, that’d be the Anglicans and their choir.”  Later on there’s a large, boxy-looking structure, and the saint remarks over the guitar music, “That’s where a lot of our non-denominational folks wind up.”  As they come up on a stately brick building, St. Peter says, “OK, now I’m going to have to ask you to be quiet, and take off your shoes and tiptoe past this place.”  One of the new residents asks, “Why? Is there something wrong?” And Peter says simply, “No, not at all.  It’s just that’s where the Presbyterians are, and they think they’re the only ones here.”

I want you to think about that, and we’ll come back to it in a moment.  For now, we are continuing with our exploration of the “I Am” teachings of Jesus as found in John’s Gospel.  Today, we are tuning in to the second half of a conversation that began last week. I hope you remember the narrative about the sheepfold, the bandits, the gatekeepers, the sheep, and Jesus’ announcement, “I am the gate”.

In what appears to be the same conversation, Jesus dives even more deeply into the imagery of the barnyard.  Whereas a few moments ago he said that he was the gate, now he’s shifted to saying that he’s the shepherd.  We know from our reading last week that in Jesus’ mind (and in the experience of his hearers), a shepherd cares for the sheep and is in some sort of intentional relationship with them.

Yet as he continues this conversation, Jesus adds an adjective.  He says that he is a “good” shepherd.  Three times he uses this word – in Greek, it’s kalos – to describe himself.

In English, the word “good” is often pretty meaningless, or at least benign.  “Hey, did you see that new Top Gun movie?  How was it?”  “Oh, well, good, I guess.”  Or when you’re asked to evaluate a new recipe, and you say, “I dunno… it’s good, I guess…”  “Good” often means “OK” in our world.

But kalos implies that there is something beautiful or attractive about the noun that it modifies; it’s a way of saying that the person or thing is useful or competent; and it also suggests that a “good” person is one who is ethically and morally admirable.  So in calling himself a “good shepherd”, Jesus is claiming not only competence, but that he is pleasing and also worthy of emulation.

But that’s not all!  In John 10, Jesus doesn’t say that he is merely a “shepherd” or even a “good shepherd”.  Twice, he explicitly says that he is “THE good shepherd.”

Again, his hearers, steeped as they were in the writings of the Old Testament, would recognize the imagery of a shepherd with his sheep.  Perhaps their thoughts would have drifted to Psalm 23, which as you all know, begins with the words, “The LORD is my shepherd…”

So if we combine Jesus’ evocation of scriptures like Psalm 23 with the red flag he waved by saying the words “I Am” in a context like this, we can assume that he was looking for a reaction.  After all, if you remember the conversation we had about the fact that “I am” is not merely a self-description, but rather a use of the Divine Name, then you can probably guess that beginning with “I am” and following that up with “the good shepherd”, well, that’s like a daily double.

And if people like you and me can hear it that way as we sit in Pittsburgh in 2022, I’m here to tell you that it goes even deeper than that.  Sure, we might remember Psalm 23, but can you call up anything from Ezekiel 34?  Jesus’ audience would have had that passage at the front of their minds.  This book of prophecy, written about six hundred years before Jesus, contains within it a scathing judgment on the leaders of Israel (both religious and political).  The prophet refers to these leaders as shepherds who are willing to eat the meat and use the wool of the sheep, but who are not interested at all in feeding or caring for the flock.  They are accused of failing to protect their animals, of trampling the good grass before the flock can even eat, and of fouling the clean water before their charges can take a drink.  Ezekiel paints a portrait of these “shepherds” as being arrogant, selfish, jerks who are unfit to lead in God’s name.

So, stepping back a moment, we have Jesus, teaching in the presence of the recognized religious leaders of his day.  He’s started out by talking about sheep and shepherds, and then announcing that he, of all people, is The Good Shepherd.  To say the very least, that would have ruffled a few feathers!  It was heard as both a criticism of the current religious climate and a claim to divinity and authority for himself.

So what, exactly, does the Good Shepherd do?  In the passage at hand, Jesus contrasts the Good Shepherd with the hired hand.  When the sheep face danger, the Good Shepherd intervenes to the point of laying down his life for the flock.  The hired help, however, is heard to mutter “I don’t get paid enough for this!” as he abandons the sheep and flees.

In each of our “I Am” statements, and of course in Exodus 3 where God reveals that name to Moses, we have heard that central to Jesus’ understanding of himself and the role to which he has been called is the idea of a relationship characterized by love.  You heard him! Jesus said, “I know my own and my own know me.”  What a stark contrast to the hired hand, with whom everything is transactional, as opposed to relational.

But sometimes, we allow ourselves to get so familiar with the words that we don’t really hear what they’re saying.  When you heard, “I am the good shepherd, who lays down his life for the sheep”, maybe you reflected on another well-known passage from John’s Gospel: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”  And we hear these verses, and we say, “Oh, yes.  Thank you.  I see, now.  Praise the Lord!  Jesus came and lived and died so that people who believe in him can get to heaven.  I know I’m a sinner, but if I pray to God and believe in Jesus, then I’ll be saved.  Jesus came so that I (and people like me) can get to heaven.  Jesus paid it all.  Alleluia! Amen!”

And yet if we follow that line of thinking – which is very seductive, I must say – we see that the goodness and relationship with which we started has gradually become refined and massaged and processed and interpreted so that it is no longer primarily relational, but transactional!  If we live into this interpretation of Jesus’ person and work, we fall back into a transactional way of thinking: Jesus came to get sorry people like me into heaven forever.  The purpose of Jesus was to save me from Hell.

Oh, beloved! How short-sighted! How limiting!

I say that because in his very next breath Jesus says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.  I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice so there will be one flock, and one shepherd.”

Now wait a second, Jesus!  Who are these other sheep?  Are you talking about the Gentiles?  Are you talking about people of other faiths, or perhaps even people of no faith?  He doesn’t say.  He does, however, use the present tense – “I have” these sheep, and I “must bring’ them.  To me, that indicates not some future ideal, but the reality of the present time.

And if that’s true, then I cannot say that the only reason that Jesus came was to save my broken-down self from eternal torment.  It’s bigger, and better, than this!

Jesus is the person, the relationship through whom God invites all of creation to come back home.  These sentences point to a vision of restoration, healing, and completeness that is not merely for people whom I like or with whose ideas I happen to agree, but for the entire creation.

I hope you heard that come through in the reading from Zephaniah, and I’m here to tell you that you can find it through Isaiah, or Jeremiah, or Hosea, or any of the rest of the prophets.  God’s idea is to remove shame, to end isolation, and to bring liberation to those who are oppressed.  That theme is the bread and butter of the prophets.  And here in John 10, Jesus says that he is the means that God is using to call all of the sheep to the safety of home.  The strategy that Jesus either uses or embodies is invitational in nature: he invites us to walk with him in vulnerability, risk, trust, and community.

And so with that in mind, our calling is to avoid the narrow-mindedness of the people who think that Jesus is only for them and instead to think of God as imaginative, creative, inventive, and welcoming.  We are invited to ask “Why not?” more than we stammer “How come…”

Of course we testify to what we know about God and Christ, and we are called to point to the places where we have seen and felt the Holy.  Yet we dare not presume that the places wherein we’ve encountered Jesus are the only places that Jesus has been.  We can’t say that the people with whom we’ve seen him are the only ones to whom he has reached.  We must remember that the ways that we have come to know him are not the only ways in which he might be known.  To go back to that old story at the beginning of this message, we dare not pretend that we’re the only ones in whom Jesus is interested.

Let us trust this Good Shepherd – the One who calls to us in a voice that we recognize – to bring us and all creation home again.  More than that, let us commit to moving through the world as he did: in trust, hope, vulnerability, and community.  Thanks be to God who has given us such a Shepherd!  Amen.

After the Storm: Investing in Family

The Saints who participate in The First U.P. Church of Crafton Heights are spending some time in June and July contemplating what it means for us to go on to what’s next – after the storm of the Coronavirus dissipates.  In so doing, we’ll look at some key decisions regarding our faith, family, finances, and fellowship – and how we can choose to engage in those areas differently than we did prior to the interruption that the virus imposed.  On June 27, we celebrated the baptisms of two amazing children and thought about the ways that faith is passed along to subsequent generations.  In doing so, we considered the voice of the prophet in Jeremiah 29 as well as Paul’s note to his younger friend Timothy in II Timothy 1:3-7. 

To hear this message as preached in worship, please use the media player below:

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How have the events of the past sixteen months, particularly the global pandemic, affected your faith practices?  And to be even more specific, how have these events impacted your family life, and your hopes for other people in your family?

As we continue this month to look at folks in scripture who are caught up in storms of one kind or another and who then decided to move forward through those trials, this morning I’d like for us to consider what it might mean to think of our families as incubators of faith or arenas for discipleship.

My experience of the pandemic has shown that in some families, there has been great anxiety over the cancellation of Sunday School, or the lack of confirmation class, or our inability to gather for worship in-person.  In others, though, there is great relief; I’ve been told, “You know what, Pastor Dave? It feels wonderful. I don’t have to pretend or impress anyone – it’s like everyone is off my back…”

I’m here to tell you that of all the things I miss about our lives before the pandemic, I think that being present with children has to be near the top of the list.  I say that this morning not primarily as a grandfather, but as a pastor.  I say that because we must acknowledge that the transmission of our faith is transgenerational.

The foundation of Israel’s faith is laid out in the shema in Deuteronomy, where the essentials of identity are established and then followed with the words, “Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.” (Deuteronomy 6)

We see the same emphasis in the early church, where we read account after account of an individual coming to faith, and then the “entire household” is baptized.  That is to say that parents and children began and engaged in the journey of faith together.

Indeed, a part of God’s intention seems to be that faith is passed down from one generation to the next.  In our reading from Jeremiah, for instance, the prophet is reacting to the dismay and horror that the people have expressed after they were swept into exile in Babylon.  They knew that they were called to act in faith and to call their children and grandchildren into faith – but how could they possibly do those things when they were forced to live in such a strange and hostile place?

We might expect the old prophet to tell the children of Israel to circle the wagons and shut the doors; to do whatever they could to hide out or hold on to what they could in the hopes of enduring that which was to come.  But that’s not what Jeremiah does.  Instead, he invites them to continue to be themselves in new ways, and in so doing to teach their children and their grandchildren the unchanging truths of God in a new place.  They are called both to hold onto the fundamentals of the faith but to engage in the community around them.  The new environment does not alleviate the need to pass their faith to the next generations.

Similarly, Paul, who is writing to his young protégé Timothy from the death row of a Roman prison, recalls their last meeting, at which Timothy wept at the prospect of the old Apostle’s death.  Paul hints at the fact that there may be doubts, or fear, or pain in the young man’s life.

Paul, Timothy, and their contemporaries were in fact facing the same dilemma as the Jews of Jeremiah’s time: how can our faith possibly survive this storm? As the first generation of Christians – those who actually knew Jesus – begins to die off, what will happen?  How can the faith survive?

Paul, like Jeremiah, points to the fact that if what we believe has any truth, then it is greater than any one of us (including himself!).  If what we proclaim is true, then it is true for the generations that will follow ours, and ought to be handed down.

In doing this, Paul points out the glaringly obvious truth that nobody gets here without a grandmother.[1] Paul reminds Timothy of his grandma Lois and his mother Eunice.  What lives in Timothy, Paul says, was present in these previous generations.

Whether you’re enduring the pain of separation in a Babylonian exile, or struggling under the persecution of the Roman Empire, or just trying to figure out life in Pittsburgh in 2021, there is no better way to keep faith vital than by being an effective parent.  As we live and move with our children, may we do so with integrity.  May our lives point toward the truth.  It may seem self-evident, but the best way to ensure the intergenerational transmission of the faith is by seeking to invest in and help form the faith identity of your children.  We do this by engaging them in practices, and teaching them what faith looks like, how love acts, and where hope lives.

Yet there’s more to this than mere biology.  Jeremiah assumes a vibrant communal life.  He talks about preparing the children for marriage and relationships in that new place, and about seeking the welfare of this city in which they’d rather not be stuck.  Yes, Paul reminds Timothy of his mother and grandmother, but he does so in a letter that begins by addressing Timothy as teknon – a word that means “my dear child”.  Paul reminds Timothy that even though they do not share any DNA, they have a connection that is based on a relationship of intimacy and trust. Both of our readings today point to the fact that the transmission of faith across generational boundaries is not simply a genetic proposition.

For any community of faith to thrive – including this congregation – we must create scenarios wherein our children have access to healthy relationships with other adults.  Research has indicated that our children are most likely to grow up with a healthy sense of self, a mature faith, and a confident understanding of their place in the world when they have the benefit of five competent and caring adults in their lives.[2]  Obviously, we need more than just parents!

And yet, according to a 2016 survey, only 28% of students in grades 6-12 indicated that they had four or five strong relationships. An astonishing (and depressing) 22% of young people surveyed indicated that they did not feel as though they had even a single vibrant relationship with an adult on which to lean.  More than 1/5 of students said that they felt alone in the world.[3]

So hear me, church: one aspect of good parenting is connecting with and supporting your child’s development as much as you possibly can.  Another, equally important, aspect is realizing that you cannot do it alone, and making sure that you are putting your child in situations where healthy relationships can thrive – places like Youth Group, or Sunday School, or mentoring, or even some form of spiritual direction or counseling for more mature young people.  Healthy faith presumes a vibrant community of care.

So what I’m saying is that the faith we share is meant to be conveyed across the generations, and further, that such transmission involves not only parents and children, but a broader set of deep connections.  One thing I would add to that is the clear recognition that any faith that is genuine is a faith that is fully owned by the self.  God has billions of children, but not a single grandchild.  Our task is to equip the children that we know and love to connect with the Lord intimately and deeply on their own.

Here’s what I mean by that.  This is a blanket that was hand-made by Margaret Vanstone Walter, who was born in 1815 in West Putford, England, and who happens to be my wife’s great-great-great grandmother.  We are taking it to Ohio, where it will belong to Ariel and ultimately our granddaughters.  Now, just for a moment, think: if you were given a blanket of this quality made by your great-great-great-great-great grandmother, how would you treat it?  Would you use it on the sofa in the basement?  In the dog’s crate? Would you use it as a tablecloth on spaghetti night?  No!  You’d protect it.  You’d treat it gingerly.  It’s an heirloom, after all.

This, on the other hand, is a toolbox that my father gave to me.  His father made it, in part, out of wood reclaimed from old ammunition boxes.  It’s still got some posterboard in it from what I believe is the mid 1930’s.  I’ve used it in many different ways over the years, but for the past couple of decades it has held my portable drill.

Note the wood in Grandpa’s tool box – reclaimed from a box made by the “Western Cartridge Company”

So here we have two items that are, between them, hundreds of years old.  One – the blanket – has sat on a shelf, and been honored or displayed, but rarely used.  The other – the toolbox – is lugged all over the country on mission trips and fix-it jobs.  Further, the tool box is currently holding some tools that my grandfather could not have imagined when he built it.  A laser level? In 1935? Grandpa wouldn’t believe me.

“Teach Them to Pray” by Ted Ellis.
Used by Permission of the Artist. More at http://www.tellisfineart.com

Here’s my point: I am suggesting that the faith that we are attempting to pass on to our children is not a delicate and fragile heirloom that we carefully preserve and hope to God they don’t ruin.  Rather, a vibrant faith is like a toolbox that yes, has a story and comes from somewhere and someone who is important, but is useful for facing the challenges of this particular place and time. If that’s true, then it is OK – and even expected – that a living, growing, vibrant faith may lead me to different places, perspectives, and viewpoints than my parents’ faith took them.

I think that is what Paul means when he suggests that Timothy ought to “rekindle” his faith.  Faith, if it’s alive, needs to be stirred up and poked and rearranged from time to time.  We can’t leave it sit on the shelf!

Listen: all four of my grandparents claimed and practiced faith in Jesus Christ.  They did their best.  That said, however, to varying degrees they held views on people of other ethnicities, faiths, or sexual identities that I find to be disappointing at least and perhaps even outright offensive.

Having said that, however, I have no doubt that if I were able to travel back in time to, say, 1932, and sit with them and explain to them some of the places that my faith journey has led me regarding racial reconciliation, understandings of human sexuality, or a host of other social and personal issues, that they might be appalled, embarrassed by, and praying for me.  They were never where I am.  I have not been where they were.

More than that, my faith is not in them.  My faith is not even in faith.  My faith, and all of who I am on my best days, is in Jesus of Nazareth, and in what the God of creation was and is doing in Jesus.  My faith relies on the things that Jesus said about welcome, forgiveness, truth, inclusion, and love being the foundations of the universe.

My grandparents had faith in Jesus, just like me.  But because I’m standing in a different place, I see the same Jesus a little differently than they did.  That’s ok.  In fact, it would be wrong for anyone to insist that our perspectives can never change.

I have a friend who was a faithful, devoted participant in the Presbyterian church close to her home.  I asked her if she was a member, and she immediately said, “Oh, no.  No, I couldn’t.”  She went on to explain that as far back as she knew, everyone in her family had been Catholic, and if she were to formally join a Protestant church, there would be a commotion at the cemetery because of all those relatives spinning in their graves.

Our task as parents and as a community of faith is deep: we are called help establish identity and a sense of self in the children that God has given us to love.  We are expected to give them a legacy and a heritage that is rich and deep and, well, faithful.  That’s what we are to give to them.

We are further called to expect our children to grow to new places.  We must remember that God is not finished, and that our own understanding is not complete. God does not need us to somehow “protect” the Gospel or “defend” the truth.  We, as the church of Jesus Christ in Pittsburgh in 2021, are not called to be the gatekeepers for the Gospel, wherein we decide who is in and who is out; where we protect our sacred traditions and favorite hymns and ideas about the way the world should be.  Instead, we are called to nurture faith and trust and hope and love in the generation that follows ours, and then to open those gates and send those young people to live with fullness and joy in the world that God has given to them, and relying on God’s care for them and their own faith in God.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

[1] I have copied this delightful phrase word for word from Thomas C. Oden’s Interpretation Commentary  on First and Second Timothy and Titus (Louisville: John Knox 1989) p. 29.

[2] See, for instance, https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/why_every_student_needs_caring_adults_in_their_life  and https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/2020/01/06/why-kids-need-strong-network-supportive-adults-how-build-that-tribe/

[3] https://www.search-institute.org/developmental-relationships/learning-developmental-relationships/

Who Is This Guy?

The first Sunday after Easter (April 28, 2019) provided the saints at the First United Presbyterian Church of Crafton Heights with the opportunity to consider what happened to the disciples in the weeks and months after the resurrection.  We saw them as people whose minds had changed – for the better… and we wondered whether we, too, have seen signs of such change and growth in our own lives.  Our texts included Luke 24:45-49 and Acts 5:27-32.

To hear this sermon as preached in worship, please use the Media Player below:

Portrait of a Bearded Man as an Apostle (St. Peter), Pier Francesco Mola Coldrerio c. 1612-1666

Well, well, well.  Get a load of this guy!  Can you believe it?  Who does he think he is?  Did you catch what Ronald said in the reading from the Book of Acts?  Evidently, the followers of Jesus have been arrested, for what is apparently not the first time.  They have been hauled in front of the Council – the Sanhedrin – and the High Priest, because they keep talking about Jesus of Nazareth and preaching in his name.

And did you catch the name of the ringleader, the spokesperson, the only apostle named?  Peter. Yes, that Peter.  The last time we saw him in this room was just the other day, when we read from Mark 14, the night that Jesus himself was arrested.  Peter was close to the Council and the High Priest on that night, too. Do you remember?

Only on that night, he tried to hide.  When he couldn’t hide, he lied.  When he was found out in his lie, he ran away weeping into the darkness.  That’s the last we’ve heard from Peter in this room.  And you will recall that it was not, by any means, Peter’s best day. And yet it was Peter.  The same Peter who we heard speaking confidently and even defiantly to the religious hierarchy a moment ago.

What’s happening?  What’s gotten into him?

Some of you know my friend, Sophie, in Malawi.  She and her husband lived with us for several months many years ago, and she had a habit that confused me.  She often began a story by saying, “the other day…”  Now, I imagine that you’ve used this phrase yourself. You’ve said something like, “You’ll never believe who I saw in the market the other day!”  Perhaps you’ve asked me when my last dental exam was, and I responded, “Oh, it was the other day.  I’m good.”  When we use those words, we understand “the other day” to mean a date in the fairly recent past.

But for Sophie, “the other day” meant simply any day that is not “today”. She would start to tell me about the other day when she was learning to drive, and it would take me a while to catch on that we were talking about an event that took place decades ago.  As you know, the passage of time adds a lot to the meaning of a story.

So when I said that we saw Peter “the other day” as he was fleeing the courtyard of the High Priest’s home on the night of Jesus’ arrest… which “other day” was it?  How much time has elapsed between Peter’s running away in shame and his standing before the Council in such boldness.

This is a tricky thing for those of us who want to read the Bible.  I mean, we’ve just finished a study of Mark’s Gospel, which takes 240 verses to narrate the events of one week. Conversely, the book of Exodus sums up 400+ years in fewer than 8 verses. So what is the relationship between the stories we’ve heard from Mark in recent weeks and those in today’s reading from Luke and Acts?

Jesus’ ascended into heaven about six weeks after his resurrection. That’s the conversation that Carly shared with you from Luke.  The events described in Acts chapter 5 could be from the same year; if not, they are from the following year.  In other words, the amount of time that has elapsed between Peter’s denial and his sermon here is to be measured in weeks  or months, and certainly not in decades.

St. Peter Preaching, Masolina (c. 1400)

So I’ll ask again: what gives? Who is this guy?  What has gotten into Peter and the other apostles that they should be so bold and brash only weeks or months after having failed so miserably?

My hunch is that if we had the opportunity to ask the apostles themselves, they might point to Luke’s account, and say something like, “Well, things really began to change for us – to take shape – as we met with the risen Christ. Our minds were opened.  We understood that he was calling us to be witnessesto his resurrection, witnesses to his presence.

In the time between the burial of Jesus and this trial in Acts, these followers of Jesus came to see themselves as witnesses.  I’m here to suggest that this is a new understanding.  Think back to the day of Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. On that day, they saw themselves as managersor maybe cheerleaders.  Jesus was coming in and was loudly proclaimed as the coming Messiah – it was unmistakable. And so it fell to the disciples to help facilitate the crowds and maybe even get themselves positioned as a kind of a “transition team” between the current religious and political establishment and that new order which Jesus would bring.

However, as the situation in Jerusalem devolved during Holy Week, things changed.  Jesus was betrayed, and then arrested.  If the dream of the Messianic Kingdom with Jesus as its head was going to come to pass, then those who were with him would have to take quick action.  We saw that in the Garden at least some of the disciples were ready to fight for Jesus, and for this new Kingdom, and to defend him. That’s not the first time that these folks saw themselves in that way – the Gospels are full of occasions when those who were closest to Jesus sought to protect him from others whom they deemed to be unworthy: children and foreigners, mostly.

When we interpret the disciples acting as protectors or defenders, then perhaps we can construe the running away in the Garden of Gethsemane and even the denials by the High Priest’s home not as acts of cowardice but rather as strategies for buying time.  After all, in this view, the arrest of Jesus is a horrible thing – but if everyone gets taken in there will be nobody to save him.  If all of them run away now, the disciples could have thought, they can break him out of jail and get back to plan “A” – Jesus coming in, bringing his Kingdom, and a new world order!  Here we go!

But then, of course, came the crucifixion, death, and burial of Jesus. At that point it must have seemed to the followers of Jesus (and they said as much to the “stranger” on the road to Emmaus) that they were sadly mistaken. He was evidently not the Messiah.  He had evidently notcome to liberate the people of God.

And now we move ahead a few months or a year into the Book of Acts and we are re-introduced to these Christ-followers as men of purpose and vision. They’ve got multiple arrest records already for bearing witness to the presence and resurrection of Jesus.

And listen to what Peter says about his old friend and mentor, Jesus. He says that God has raised up Jesus as Israel’s “Leader”.  The Greek word there is archegos, and it means one who goes before, or is an example, or a pioneer, or a predecessor.  Jesus is the first of many – Jesus is the archetype of that which God intends for all humanity.

Not only is he “Leader”, but he is “Savior”.  Again, the Greek helps us understand: soter is a word that refers to a title that the Greeks gave to leaders who had conferred significant benefits on their country.  It was used to describe a military or political leader who had really brought about true and significant benefit or advantage for his people.  It is worth noting, too, that this is the first time in the New Testament that a Jewish person uses this word to refer to Jesus.  In recognizing him as archegos and soter– Leader and Savior – the disciples are acclaiming Jesus as one with supreme power and authority; one who can be relied on to get stuff done; Jesus can be trusted to do as he says he’s gonna do.

Appearance on the Mountain in Galilee, Duccio di Buoninsegna (c. 1310)

And if Jesus is in fact that kindof leader and savior, then the disciples’ understanding of themselves must also change.  If that’swho Jesus is, then they don’t need to be his agents, handlers, or managers.  If that’s the kind of person and presence that Jesus is, then he surely doesn’t need the kinds of protection that people like the disciples are likely to be able to provide.  And so instead of being any of those things, the apostles say plainly, “we are witnesses of these things – we are here to tell you about our experiences of these things, and to invite you to consider the Holy Spirit who is also here as a witness.”

This morning I’d like to reflect on Christ-followers who see themselves as witnesses – as persons who have seen, observed, or participated in an event and then testify to what they saw, heard, and felt.  I’m afraid that in the Church of Jesus Christ today, there are not enough witnesses.

I’m afraid that in the church of Jesus Christ today I know too many people who have abdicated the role of “witness” so that they could go back to being Jesus’ protectors.  I know too many people who seem to believe that the God whom they say created heaven and earth and the vastness of the cosmos – that thatGod somehow needs folks like me or you to protect God’s self.

We have friends who act as if Jesus needs us to stand between him and those who would harm him – he needs us to point out and call out and tear down the people that could somehow hurt Jesus or his cause – and so these folks lash out self-righteously against Muslims or atheists or feminists or gays.  Jesus needs us to have his back when it comes to outrages like the holiday cups used at Starbucks or the chicken sandwiches served by Chick Fil-A.  Some people act as though the one who turned water into wine and used a few loaves and fishes to feed 5000 people has now had a change of heart and turns to his followers and says, “Whoa, whoa, whoa… be careful.  Don’t be trying to feed or clothe everybody now.  You’ve got to take care of yourselves.  I’m not sure you can think about letting people like them get too close to your neighborhood…”  As if Jesus was somehow less ableor less sufficientor less powerfulnow than he was when Luke and Acts were written.[1]

If he is truly Leader and Savior – then he retains his power and authority, and he continues to expect that we are his witnesses, and not his handlers, agents, protection squad, or defense attorneys.

And that leads me to another question that is raised by this morning’s text. Clearly Peter and the other followers of Jesus grew in their understandings of who Jesus was and who they were called to be. Their minds were changed, and that led them to new understandings of themselves and their Lord.  So I wonder, has that happened to you?  Where are you growing?  How long has it been since you’ve seen Jesus in a new way?  Are there things about which you’ve experienced a change of mind or heart?

Careful now…  In so many parts of our culture, a changed mind is seen as a sign of weakness.  In discussions I’ve had recently of both a political and religious nature, I’ve heard comments like, “Her?  Seriously? You know, I’ve heard that she has become really soft on ________ (fill in the blank with some doctrine, cause, or political viewpoint).  I’m not sure she’s one of us anymore…”  When a politician changes their mind, they are accused of waffling or flip-flopping. And if you didn’t know it, friends, that’s bad.  That is very bad for your political career – and, as friends of mine discovered it can hurt your theological career as well.

When someone engages you in conversation by asking you how your mind has changed, or how you see things differently… there’s a temptation to see that as an admission of having somehow departed from orthodoxy or having left the “true faith”, whatever that is.

But listen: we are called to growth!  We are built for growth!  We long for and anticipate growth in our physical selves, our mental selves, and therefore why not our spiritual selves as well?

There’s not a person in this room who thinks, looks, or acts exactly the same as you did five or ten or twenty years ago. Heck, if you want a laugh, walk into my study with some of the children as they scope out your wedding and baptismal photos and say, “Hey… is that my mom and dad?”, or “Who is that guy with all the hair?”  Because you’ve changed, beloved.  You’re not the same.

So I’ll ask again: Where are you growing?  How are you seeing Jesus these days?  And how are you bearing witness to that presence in your daily life?

Today, may we join Peter and the other apostles in looking back at where we were, and who we were, on the other day– and praying for growth, wisdom, discernment, and freedom to find Christ in new places on this day.  And as we find and experience the Christ, may we, too, fulfill our roles and thereby be witnesses to these things.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

[1] I am indebted to pastor and writer John Pavlovitz, who has helped me to wrestle with this issue.  You can see some of his work on his blog in columns like this: https://johnpavlovitz.com/2019/04/11/the-terribly-tiny-god-of-maga-christians/

Malawi 2015 #5

The story of God’s people is one of being called and being sent. Of being invited in and offered welcome and of being charged to go out and follow where God leads. To ask which takes precedence is like asking which came first, the chicken or the egg. Both are essential to the Christian life. To put it in reverse, one who seeks to be a Christian whilst inhabiting only either the call or the commissioning is attempting to do the impossible.

 

Paul puts it this way in writing to his friends in Rome:

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can anyone preach unless they are sent? As it is written: “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”

Today was a day of investigating the calling and sending in many ways.

The 3 new pastors are welcomed by the Women’s Guild.

We began by sharing in the celebration of the ordination of three young men to the ministry of Word and Sacrament in a three-hour worship service at Mulanje CCAP. In the PC(USA), the Presbyteries typically choose to perform the function of ordinations by means of Administrative Commissions, wherein a token representation of the Presbytery at large comes to a particular congregation to celebrate with the individual who is being ordained. That choice results in an intensely personal and localized experience, which is at once exhilarating and perhaps a little limiting as well. In contrast, the Blantyre Synod ordains by gathering as many members as can come and inviting them to work together to call their new brothers or sisters to the next level of service and discipleship. So rather than a five or six member commission from Presbytery, there were at least 40 pastors in attendance today, plus elder representatives and women’s guild members from at least seven of the Presbyteries in the Synod.

Pastors are typically given bicycles like this as they begin their ministry. One fortunate fellow today was given a motorcycle with which to move through his parish.

 

I was given the honor of preaching at this momentous event, and other members of our team participated in various ways. The word was proclaimed, prayers were offered, and songs were sung in Chichewa, English, and Arabic. Amidst great pomp and not a little bit of ululation, we celebrated the great truth that God, through the Body of Christ, commissions certain persons to certain tasks.

Our team has attracted a great deal of media attention in Malawi this weekend. I understand that in addition to a few newspaper articles, I’ve been on Malawian Broadcasting several times. We hope that this exposure is good for the Synod and the rural churches.

Following the worship, we were treated to a delicious lunch at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Inglis, each of whom has been to Pittsburgh and who were glad to open their home to our team along with an equal number of Malawian guests. Well-fed in both spirit and body, we then set out to follow the call to serve.

Gregg with Mr. and Mrs. Inglis as well as Holiness, a Partnership Committee member

 

One of the dramatic moments during today’s revival meeting.

For the second day in a row, we visited the rather remote Gondwa Prayer House, where the Christians and their partners from St. James CCAP and the Synod had organized a religious revival meeting. This was a profoundly moving experience. We were privileged to hear two wonderful sermons preached by Malawian elders to a Malawian audience (they were translated for our benefit). Some of the songs featured dramatic activity, and the preachers themselves enacted some of what they proclaimed. By the end of the rally, a hundred or so adults and an equal number of children came forward for prayer and conversation with members of their own community about what it means to walk with the Lord day to day. As those neighbors engaged in conversation, other members of the community brought forward gifts of fruit and fabric for the members of our team. In this context, it ought to go without saying that there was singing. And dancing. A lot of both, in fact. Throughout the experience, there was an amazing spirit of joyfulness.

Sarajane reads the scripture to the crowd at the revival.

Members of the SSPEC (South Sudan) delegation are leading the celebration.

And oh, the dancing…

 

As the sun was setting, we climbed back onto our coaster and sank heavily into the seats – it had been a long day. Paul wrote, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the one who brings good news…” If you were to have asked us at that moment, as we contemplated our shoes and ankles covered with the red Malawian dust, I doubt that any of us would have declared our own feet to be “beautiful.” Yet somehow, in responding to the invitation to be sent into the world and to engage with God’s people in that way, we were surely given the opportunity to behold great beauty.

We returned to Blantyre well after dark, two hours behind schedule (surprise!). We were spent and weary, and as a friend of mine would say, we looked as if we’d been “rode hard and put away wet.”

But we were full, and ready for what tomorrow holds. Thanks be to God!

Did I mention that all of this happened in the shadow of Mt. Mulanje, the 3rd-highest peak in all of Africa? Beauty indeed!

Where Are The Five?

God’s people in Crafton Heights are continuing to study the Book of Judges as a way of listening to how God comes to us in the midst of our brokenness.  This week’s message provides the second introduction to the book as well as a challenge to care for our children well.  Scriptures include Judges 2:6-19 and I Peter 2:9-12.

         You know, I couldn’t tell you how many people have said to me already today, “Do you know what I would love to see, Pastor Dave?  I would love to see a simple, creative graphic that describes the Deuteronomic Cycle as we see it lived out in the book of Judges.”

Yeah, well, OK, that’s a lie.  Because, quite frankly, no one, ever, has asked me to talk with them about the Deuteronomic cycle.  But maybe that’s just because while you have always wanted to see something like this, you never thought to bring it up in polite conversation.  So today is your lucky day, because here is a representation of the Deuteronomic Cycle, one that was given to me by our friend Tammy Weins Sorge.

The Deuteronomic Cycle is a term that is used to describe the theological history of God’s people during the time that the book of Judges was written.  It’s a way to interpret the narrative that we’ll be studying for the next few months.  You can see how the cycle works – essentially, the people start off all right, and then they blow it somehow.  God gets really angry and then zaps them.  The theological term for this is that “God’s wrath is unleashed.”  The people suffer because God is so mad, and then they cry out to God. God hears them and cuts them a break by sending them a leader, or a judge, who sets things straight… until they screw up again, when he gets angry again, and so on.

As I say, this is a time-honored way to understand the book of Judges.  And it is essentially correct – at least in the cyclical nature of things.  However, I’d suggest that we read the story this way because we’re the people.  We believe that God did something to us, when in reality, it may have more to do with our own choices than we’d like to admit.

Did you ever hear a student complain, “Can you believe it?  She gave me a “C” in that class?”  Or maybe a friend has said, “Well, I lost my job because the cops took my driver’s license.”  When you ask why the mean old policemen took his license, he says, “Well, they said that I had another DUI…”

Do you see?  We find it very, very easy to minimize the effects of our own choices some times.

I would suggest that in the book of Judges, we see a cycle all right – but instead of it being a cycle wherein God gets angry and punishes people for being so stupid, it’s a description of the truth that time and time again, humanity chooses poorly, and God allows us to experience the consequences of those choices.

Take a look at our reading from Judges for this morning.  Twice in the span of three verses, we read of a choice that God’s people made: in verses 12 and 14, we see that God’s people forsook – that is, they abandoned, they left, they walked away from, they made another choice – and they served the other gods.  And when they make that other choice, God gives them what they want: God “gave them over…”

Ba’al

In this case, and in many, many places in the Old Testament, the decision that God’s people make is to forget about worshiping God and instead choose to worship the Ba’al and the Asherah, the gods that the Canaanites worshiped before the Israelites show up in the land.  Ba’al is a fertility god, usually depicted as either a bull or a man with a lightning bolt in his hand. He is a propagating, inseminating, seed-spreading machine.  Asherah is his female counterpart, said to be the “Queen of Heaven”, and she was often worshiped at poles that were erected in her honor.  The “worship” of Ba’al and Asherah almost always involved some sort of sexual activity on the part of the priests and the worshipers.  It was, I must say, a very popular religion.  And time and time again, the people of God, the people who ought to know better, choose to be fascinated with the allure of the Ba’als and the Asherah rather than to serve the God who called them from slavery.

Asherah

And here in Judges 2 we see a fascinating, horrible situation.  It’s a second introduction to the book of Judges, and we once again encounter Joshua giving the people their final instructions.  Under the leadership that Joshua shared with Moses, the people have left Egypt and trekked through the desert for a generation.  They’ve eaten manna, seen God at work time and time again, and crossed into the Promised Land.  And here, before Joshua and his peers are cold in their graves, the people of God choose to abandon God and live, act, and worship like Canaanites. In the space of a few years, they’ve gone from being followers of God to acting as his enemies.

Joshua addresses the people

How could this happen?  Why did they make this choice?

Last week, I mentioned what I thought was both the theme, and the saddest verse in the book of Judges: “In those days, there was no king in Israel, and every man did what was right in his own eyes…” (21:25)  We talked about the fact that it is easy for us to behave as if there is no God, no source of authority.

The second saddest verse in this book comes in this morning’s reading:

…and there arose another generation after them, who did not know the Lord or the work which he had done for Israel. (2:10b)

The people of Israel had done what God asked them to do: they entered the Land that he was giving to them…  But they forgot who God was. They forgot who they were, and they forgot why they were.

All those years coming into the Promised Land, and Joshua failed to mentor a leader who could replace him.  All those years walking across the desert, and the families of Israel forgot to do what Moses had told them in Deuteronomy 6:6-8

And these words which I command you this day shall be upon your heart; and you shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. And you shall bind them as a sign upon your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.  Don’t forget!

Yet in less than a hundred years, the people of God did forget who they were.  Of course they made bonehead choices!  How could they choose wisely at all when they were operating out of a place of ignorance and mistaken identity?

Beloved, can you see that this is where the Church in North America is heading today?  In our own tradition, the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., the median age is 63.  That means that half of the worshipers are older than 63.  80% of Presbyterians are over the age of 45.  I came across a study of churches in England that sent chills down my spine.  In that country today, 39% of churches say that they have no worshipers under the age of 11.  None.  49% have no attenders between the ages of 11 and 14, and 59% report no participation at all by those between the ages of 15 and 19.[1]

Here’s another way to look at the people who are (or who are not) church in the United Kingdom this morning.

And maybe the temptation is to see that skinny red line of participants who are under the age of 20 and then to look around this room and hear the beautiful noise of crying babies and say, “THANK GOD that’s not us.  Wow, that would be terrible.  Good thing we’re not in that situation.”

And that, my friends, would be a mistake.  Because we are the church.  And the church is losing her children.  We are creating a generation who does not know the power or presence of God.

How is this happening?  The folks at the Fuller Youth Institute suggest that one of the problems is that most churches today are giving their kids what they call “Red Bull experiences of the gospel.”  Red Bull, as you know, is a drink that contains significant amounts of sugar, caffeine and other substances that will, its ads say, “give you wings”.  That is, people who drink Red Bull find that they have a temporary burst of energy and effectiveness for study, driving, or whatever.  Of course, that’s often followed by a let-down. 

A “Red Bull experience of the gospel” means that the church gives our kids an experience of faith that might be potent enough to help them make decisions at a high school party, but is not deep enough to foster long-term faith.[2]

This research hits me hard on a personal level.  Because for the last forty-one years of my life, I’ve gone down to church on Sunday evening for youth group meetings.  Thirty-five of these years, I’ve been a leader.  For a long, long time, I sought to connect with kids by making a splash, and by making Youth Group entertaining, relevant, and cool.  And, I’m ashamed to say, I could get away with that thirty years ago.  And I did.

But now, whenever I see entertaining, relevant, and cool, well, it’s in the rear-view mirror.  Any relationship I had with those qualities is in the past.

And yet…and yet…I love children and young people now more and better than I did in the 1980’s.

Beloved, here’s the thing that you need to know this morning:  studies have shown that teens who have had five or more adults from the church invest in them during the ages of 15 – 18 are far less likely to leave the church after High School.[3]

Back in the day, I tried to be it for the kids that I knew.  I played amazing games and was familiar with pop culture and tried so hard to make sure that every kid knew that I was there…  And many of those young people are not interested in faith any more… in part, I’m afraid, because I tried to do everything myself.

We need a culture wherein each of the young people whom we are called to love (which, I might remind you, includes all young people) are reminded of who they are according to the glorious truth of 1 Peter – that they, and we, like the first Israelites, are called into a place of blessing so that we can follow God in Christ so that the world might know God’s deep and rich love and blessing.

Each of the young people we are called to love needs to be coached on making decisions and experiencing consequences and living into truth.

What does that mean for us? Well, we have 27 children signed up in our Preschool program.  There are an additional 27 students enrolled in the after school program with 5 on our waiting list.  In the first two weeks, we’ve had 22 teenagers show up at our Sunday night youth program.  If you’re doing the math that adds up to 81 children…not counting all the babies you see here.

Where are the five for these young people about whom God is crazy and for whom Christ died?  Which five people are seeking to somehow encourage, nurture, love, and build up each of those 81 children…and the others we know?

Relax, people.  I’m not trying to sign you up as a Sunday School teacher, a youth advisor, or a volunteer at the Open Door.  Jessica and Jason might do that, and I think that some of you should, but that’s not my point.

And don’t worry, I’m not trying to say that because I’m no longer entertaining, relevant or cool, you need to be those things to attract kids to Jesus.

This is what I’m saying: I have come to understand that perhaps the most important thing I do in life is to try to confirm Christian identity in young people.  To help them claim their heritage as being fearfully and wonderfully made; chosen by God for a future of grace and love, witness and service.  I really believe that may be the most important thing I do.  And I think I can be pretty good at it.

Can we get off this thing now?

But here’s the deal: like virtually everything else around this place, it doesn’t mean squat if only one person does it.  The only way that this matters is if in some way, each of us is one of the five for some of the 81.  Don’t come to youth group.  But pray for these children.  Don’t think you have to play dodgeball on Friday nights.  But sitting here being glad that we have kids among us isn’t good enough, either.  Can you engage, support, and encourage the young people you see, or at least the adults who are able to be in those relationships more actively?  Maybe you can buy a pizza for someone who is working with kids, or babysit for free?  How will you act and pray for the ability to see the children and youth in this community the way that Jesus does?  As far as I can see, that’s the only way to get off the Deuteronomic cycle in our own age – and in so doing, to raise a generation who is more faithful than we are.  God hear our prayer.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

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[1] Source: http://matthiasmedia.com/briefing/2011/08/does-the-future-have-a-church/

[2] http://stickyfaith.org/articles/more-than-the-red-bull-rip-off

[3] http://www.christiancentury.org/article/2013-05/sticky-faith