"The Gift of Bold Action" - Matthew 4:12-23 (January 26, 2020)

Matthew 4:12-23

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the lake, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: 

‘Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.’  From that time Jesus began to proclaim, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the lake—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. 

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Last week we journeyed through John’s account of Jesus calling his first disciples.  Today, we see what the Gospel writer Matthew had to say about it.  Instead of proclaiming a baptism of repentance by the river, John has been arrested and Jesus feels like he needs to relocate himself for safety’s sake.  

He walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees two brothers, Andrew and Peter, casting their nets into the lake.  Then Jesus turns to them and says 10 words that will forever change their life:  “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”  Without a word, they drop their nets and follow him.  The three of them continue on their way until they stumble upon James and John.  Jesus calls out to them with presumably the same invitation and they, too, follow him in a manner even more dramatic that Andrew and Peter because the two of them abandon their father who was right there in the boat with them mending the nets.

Together, the five of them - Jesus, Andrew, Peter, James, and John - go all throughout Galilee doing the work of the Gospel.  This work to which Jesus invites them is described with three verbs - teaching, proclaiming, and curing.

They taught and proclaimed the Good News of the Gospel and then they physically manifested it by curing people.

It’s a pretty simple story; not without its curiosities, of course, but simple nonetheless.

Jesus recruits regular folks and then travels with them teaching, proclaiming, and curing.

The focus of this sermon is, hopefully, going to be as simple as the story which inspires it.  This week, as I was preparing this sermon, there was one simple detail of this story that stood out to me:  the movement of the passage.

Jesus begins his ministry in today’s passage by being on the move.  Jesus didn’t start his ministry by erecting a church and building a new gymnasium to attract folks.  Jesus didn’t hire a young pastor to attract other young families.  Jesus didn’t find followers by sitting still and asking them to come to him.  

Jesus found followers by being out in the world - their world - and finding them in the ordinariness of their lives.

Now, that may seem like a foreign concept to us but, in a way, that’s not unlike how this congregation was founded.  In the 1950’s, this part of Lexington was flourishing as the suburban boom happened and folks from 2nd Presbyterian Church decided to plant a church here where the people were beginning to move.

Today’s passage is a helpful, and perhaps unsettling, reminder that we are not called to remain stationary in our journey to be followers of Christ or, as this passage puts it, fishers of people.  In fact, if we take it a step further, we can also glean this truth:  going to worship once a week does not make someone a follower of Christ; it makes them a church-goer.

Now please don’t get me wrong:  what we’re doing right now, this act of worship, is not unimportant.  I in no way wish to suggest that worship is some meaningless exercise.  On the contrary, worship is the single-most important way in which we are molded into followers of Christ to go and serve him in the world.  However, worship must always be focused on training us for what we do in Christ’s name “out there.”

You may have noticed that for the past few weeks I’ve led the charge and benediction from the rear of the sanctuary.  I’ve been very intentional in doing so because it redirects our gaze from the front of the sanctuary to the back of it where most of us exit this place.  It changes our focus to what we’ve been doing to what we’re about to go do.

Worship prepares us to go out in the world and be the Body of Christ.  Worship prepares us to share with the world the gift of bold action.  What Andrew, Peter, James, and John did was nothing if it wasn’t bold.  They left the comfort of what they knew how to do and followed Jesus into the unknown.

To put it another way:  Jesus left the building, and so did they.

So, today’s passage compels us to ask ourselves the following question:  what are we, as a congregation, doing outside our doors that is serving our community where they are?  Another more dramatic way to ask that question is to ask another:  if this church were to close its doors today, what percentage of people who live within a two mile radius of us would notice?  What void would that leave here in the west end of Lexington?

So, to end this sermon, I’d like to lift up a few examples of how some of us at Beaumont Presbyterian Church were “church” outside of our doors over the past 72 hours.

On Thursday evening, we began our Exodus Bible Study at Panera Bread.  13 of us crammed around a table, broke bread with one another, and dove into this dramatic book of the Bible.  Something about meeting outside of the church walls changes our conversation.  Also, more than once, we’ve had a random person come over, intrigued about what we’re talking about, and ask to listen in.  Who knows the seeds that could be planted?

Then, on Friday, a handful of us drove to Central Baptist Hospital to sing to Russell Huffman.  With hymnals in hand, we surrounded him - literally - with songs of God’s grace.  After singing to him for about 30 minutes, we placed our hands on him, anointed him with oil, and prayed with him.

Then, yesterday, about 10 of us gathered to go see the movie Just Mercy at the mall, witnessing a heartbreaking but hopeful story of the relentless search for justice.  

These are only three examples of ways that Beaumont Presbyterian Church has been church outside of our walls.  I know there are many other ways.  Some of you volunteer at God’s pantry.  Others of you volunteer in other ways.  I’m very aware the behind the scenes much goes on to fulfill our calling to be followers of Christ.

But we can’t stop here.  We can’t stop now.  Christ compels us to take bold action in following him.  Because if Jesus has left the building, we need to as well.  I hope this physical place is a refuge for each of you.  I hope that this church building is a safe space to come and pray, play, eat, serve, and sing.  But, at the end of the day, this building is nothing more than a building.  If it burned to the ground, Beaumont Presbyterian Church would still exist.  

So come to this building, friends!  Let us gather here to work and worship.  But let us not get “stuck” in this building.  For Jesus is on the move, and we’d do well to keep our walking shoes on.

In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say:  Amen.

"The Gift of Unexpected Gifts" - Matthew 2:1-12 (January 5, 2020)

Matthew 2:1-12

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.’ When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet: 

“And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel.” ’

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, ‘Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.’ When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure-chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

As we begin a new year so too do we begin a new sermon series for the Season of Epiphany:  Gifts That Keep on Giving.  Now that the Season of Christmas is coming to an end, most of us are starting to think about taking down the Christmas trees, if you haven’t done so already.  And many of us are enjoying the gifts that were under them for so many weeks before we opened them up.

Epiphany is the season that serves as the bridge between the seasons of Christmas and Lent.  Epiphany really boils down to a time when we process what it means now that God is incarnate in our arms.  We spent four weeks waiting for Jesus and, well, now he’s here.  Now what?  That’s the question Epiphany asks.

We’re going to observe Epiphany with the intentionality it deserves because so often it doesn’t get a whole lot of attention.  Epiphany sometimes feels like the “middle child” in-between it’s older and younger siblings, Christmas and Lent, not getting the attention it wants.  So from now until the Sunday before Lent begins, we’ll be talking about gifts; both the giving and receiving of gifts.  What are the gifts that God-with-us brings to us?  And, conversely, what gifts will we bring to him in honor of the new born king?

The gifts in today’s passage are pretty tangible, though not gifts that we would think to give today (with the exception of maybe gold).  Gold, frankincense, and myrrh were, of course, the gifts that the wise men brought to the infant Jesus, the source of King Herod’s violent insecurity.  The wise men had been sent by this petulant politician to find Jesus so that he could have him assassinated.  

And although we often focus on the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, I think the most important gift the wise men gave to Jesus was their choice to disobey King Herod and, as we talked about during the Children’s sermon, go home by another way.  Sometimes the greatest gift we can give God is to defy the wishes of those whose behavior is so blatantly antithetical to the Gospel.

The story of the wise men reminds me that sometimes the greatest gift we can give God, and one another, is to say no to violence, no to oppressive rulers like Herod, and no to the fear and intimidation they try their hardest to spread around.  When the Church pushes back against such hatred, that can be an unexpected gift to those around us who are suffering.

For today’s passage is filled with truly unexpected gifts.  After all, I doubt Mary and Joseph were expecting such kingly and expensive gifts as gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  I doubt the wise men were expecting to receive the gift of their king in a form of a helpless little infant.  And I certainly doubt that King Herod was expecting that his “gift of homage” would be denied when the wise men decided to disobey him.

I think the unexpected gift that day was that peace was birthed into this world despite the violence that threatened it.  Indeed, peace is still being birthed into this world despite the violence that currently threatens it.  Over the past few days, the news has been dominated by the escalating tensions between our country and Iran.  And I think it’s a good time to be reminded that we’ve never found peace by killing our enemies.  More often than not, killing our “enemies” ends up creating even more of them.  

Which is why the gift of Jesus that you and I have received is such an important gift to share.  The wise men saw something in Jesus, something that they didn’t see in the mad king who sent them on that errand.  I think they saw in Jesus the possibility of a different kind of world than the cruel one through which they traveled to see him.  I think they saw in Jesus an alternative narrative to King Herod’s violent one.  

What do you see in Jesus?  What gifts is he bringing you?  What gifts might you bring to him and, by doing so, help heal this world?  

Food for thought as we depart on this Epiphany journey.

In the name of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say:  Amen.

"Courage Can't Wait" - Matthew 1:18-25 (December 22, 2019)

Matthew 1:18-25

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel’, which means, ‘God is with us.’ When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Today is our fourth and final stop on our Advent journey, asking ourselves “What Can’t Wait?”  In just over 48 hours, we’ll gather together in this very room to sing “Joy to the World” and “Silent Night,” finally lighting that long-awaited Christ candle to welcome the baby Jesus into our arms.

But just in case you’ve missed a few stops on this Advent train, allow me to catch you up.  

During our first stop on the first day of this month and the first day of a new liturgical year, we talked about how “God’s Promised Day Can’t Wait.”  We journeyed through the poetry of Isaiah 2:1-5 and Psalm 122, which reminded us that God longs for the day when weapons will be destroyed and turned into gardening tools, cultivating a world in which war and violence are things of the past.

On our second stop, we talked about how “Repentance Can’t Wait.”  We journeyed in the wilderness with John the Baptist reminding us that God takes repentance very seriously.  We were told that repentance is an important task to practice as we prepare for the coming of Jesus Christ.  Furthermore, we were challenged to practice repentance not with a sense of guilt and shame but rather to welcome it with open arms as a necessary step in order to find joy; joy for ourselves and joy for our neighbors.

On our third stop, a week ago today, we talked about how “Delight Can’t Wait.”  We were enchanted and challenged by the subversive and controversial words of Mary’s Magnificat, celebrating that God will bring down the mighty and uplift the lowly, and indeed already has.  We pondered in our hearts how we too might be called to sing our own Magnificats in order to sing into reality God’s promised day.

Which, of course, brings us to the fourth Sunday of Advent.  The day when we light the candle for love.  But the title of this sermon is not “Love Can’t Wait” but “Courage Can’t Wait.”  I think it makes perfect sense.  After all, is there any more courageous act than love?  Is it even possible to love without courage?  Of course not.

Last week, the courageous act belonged to Mary.  She, a brown-skinned unwed teenage girl from the Middle East, chose to sing a subversive and political song of God’s countercultural justice.  Today, however, the courageous act belongs to her fiancé, Joseph, who, like Mary, is swept up into circumstances that none of us could ever predict.

It all starts when Joseph has a dream.  The beginning of the Gospel of Matthew is filled with dreams that tell those who are dreaming them what God is doing in the world.  The first few chapters of Matthew also have the following dreams:

• In Matthew 2:12, the magi are warned in a dream to disobey Herod in his search to find and kill the newborn Jesus.

• In Matthew 2:13, Joseph is warned in a dream of the wrath of Herod and is instructed to take Mary and the child and seek refuge in a safer place.

• In Matthew 2:19, Joseph is informed in a dream that Herod has died.

• Finally, in Matthew 2:22, Joseph is led to settle in Galilee, making Nazareth Jesus’ home.

So it is safe to say that, in Matthew’s Gospel at least, dreams are God’s preferred method of divine communication and intervention.

But before the dream in today’s passage is dreamed, there are a few more details to reckon with.  The text tells us that Mary was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.  What is curiously absent from today’s narrative is any detail at all about the conversation that was had between Joseph and Mary.  But I think it is safe to assume that that conversation was filled with frustration, anger, and confusion.  Imagine for a moment that you are Joseph, and that you are engaged to be married to the woman of your dreams, who has just informed you that she is pregnant.  You haven’t slept with her yet so, logically, there is only one conclusion:  she slept with another man.  And yet, the woman that you trust so much as to marry her insists that no such thing happened.  If you’re Joseph, you’re left with one of two difficult options:  1) break off the engagement quietly or 2) accept the inconceivable: that your fiancé has somehow managed to become pregnant without having sex.

Joseph, we are told, chose option one.  A righteous option, we are told, by the moral codes of the day.  And as he laid down to sleep that night, I can’t help but wonder what Joseph was thinking about as he closed his eyes.  Was he thinking about what would happen to Mary after he left her?  How she would provide for herself and a child?  Would the father of the child, whoever that was, take care of them?  Was he thinking about how he would navigate the rest of his life without the woman that he had planned to spend the rest of it with?  Would he ever find another woman to love as much as he loved Mary?  Perhaps he was wondering if he was doing the right thing.  Perhaps he was having second thoughts about abandoning Mary.  After all, he had never found her to be distrustful before.  Why should he begin to doubt her now?

I imagine that Joseph drifted off into an uneasy sleep that night.  I wonder if he wondered what dreams may come.

Dreams come to us when we are at our most vulnerable.  Dreams come to us when we are in the dark of night with nothing to guard us from letting the mysterious subconscious from taking us on a ride that we can’t control.  In the dark of night, God does wondrous things.

I never know when a dream begins or where it ends, kind of like you never are completely aware of that moment when you drift off into sleep.  It’s a space that is marked with mystery and truth.  Because while what happens in a dream is not “reality,” dreams, I’m convinced, tell us truths that are as real as the pulpit from which I stand.

And so, the truth comes to Joseph in the form of an angel.

“Do not be afraid” the angel tells Joseph, repeating a refrain we’ve come to expect from angels in the Bible.  “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife for she did not cheat on you.  Yes, she is pregnant, but the child is of not of man but of the Holy Spirit.  She will have a son and you will call him Jesus, because he is to save all of creation.”

Now, it is very important to note that the angel told Joseph to name the child.  Because according to the law of that day, if a man named a child it legally became his and was officially a part of his lineage.  This, of course, is why Matthew goes to such lengths to link Joseph to the line of David.  By naming him, Joseph both makes Jesus his legal child and seals him into the line of David, to fulfill the line from Isaiah that says that a shoot shall spring forth from the stump of Jesse (Kind David’s father).

And then, Joseph’s dream comes to an end.  Just as we might be curious as to what he was thinking as he drifted off to sleep, we too might be curious as to what he was thinking as he awoke from his slumber.  Was he wondering when he crossed from the dream world into the “real” one?  Was he wondering just how crazy it was to think about his beloved Mary being pregnant by the Holy Spirit?  Was he considering dismissing the whole thing as a meaningless dream that was nothing more than his subconscious trying to make sense of a truly bizarre set of circumstances?

At the end of the day, we just don’t know what was going through Joseph’s mind after this divine dream.  The text just tells us that Joseph woke up with a very different plan than the one he went to sleep with.  Joseph awoke and did as the angel of the Lord told him to do.  He took Mary as his wife.  He didn’t sleep with her until the child was born.  And then he named the child Jesus.

Love and courage are two sides of the same coin;  you cannot have one without the other.  It took courage for Mary to sing her song.  It took courage for Joseph to heed the instructions of the angel and adopt Jesus as his own son.  It took courage because courage often compels us to choose between what is easy and what is right.  Today’s text lifts up Joseph as a model of courage; one that exemplifies for us what it looks like to follow God when it seems like the most absurd thing to do.

Brené Brown has said the following about courage:  “The root of the word courage is cor—the Latin word for heart. In one of its earliest forms, the word courage had a very different definition than it does today. Courage originally meant ‘To speak one's mind by telling all one's heart.’ Over time, this definition has changed, and today, courage is more synonymous with being heroic. Heroics is important and we certainly need heroes, but I think we've lost touch with the idea that speaking honestly and openly about who we are, about what we're feeling, and about our experiences (good and bad) is the definition of courage. Heroics is often about putting our life on the line. Ordinary courage is about putting our vulnerability on the line. In today's world, that's pretty extraordinary.” 

In today’s story, Joseph exercised courageous vulnerability.  Obviously, the “safer” option would have been for him to just leave.  Joseph could have simply washed his hands of this entire situation and left and started a new life without the drama and uncertainty of an immaculate conception.

Instead, Joseph chose the harder option.  He chose the more vulnerable option.  He chose the more courageous option.  Joseph chose to stay.  Joseph chose to bind himself to Mary in wedlock and to stand by her side through the uncertain territory ahead.

What might we have to learn from Joseph’s courage?  From Mary’s?

Because today we must proclaim that courage can’t wait.  So much of the systemic causes of our the world’s grief and suffering come from one thing:  a lack of courage.  

So I invite you, for thirty seconds to pause in silence and to think about someone in your life who had taught you what it means to have courage…

Let us together channel that courage.  As anticipate the birth of Jesus Christ - the greatest example of courage we will ever have - let us remember the courage it took for Mary to be vulnerable enough to carry God’s child.  Let us remember the courage it took for Joseph to be vulnerable enough to stay with her through the chaos.  And let us remember the courage it took for God to be vulnerable enough come to us in human flesh, to save us from our sins.

Friends, courage can’t wait.

In the name of the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may all of us, God’s children, say:  Amen.