… unless a grain of wheat falls …

John 12:20-33                        ²⁰Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. ²¹They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” ²²Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. ²³Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. ²⁴Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. ²⁵Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. ²⁶Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.

²⁷“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. ²⁸Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” ²⁹The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” ³⁰Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. ³¹Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. ³²And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” ³³He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

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Here’s something you can try:  make a list of 100 things you love.  Don’t worry about the definition of love; don’t obsess about whether something qualifies as true love or not.  Don’t worry about having “my children” come right after “deep-dish pizza” on your list.  Just don’t think too much about it at all.  Go ahead and start now if you like.  One hundred things you love.

Do you think it will be easy to come up with 100?  Or will it be hard?  About what point will it become hard?   Around number 50?  70?  Or around number 10?

The first item on my list is books.  I started listing my children at number 16 – but I am not ashamed!  The order in which I wrote them down does not reflect the quality of my love; it doesn’t mean anything that my children come after sandals, the color pink, and good French bread.  I would die for my children but I assure you, I would not give my life for a good baguette or my favorite sandals.  I’m not that worried about my priorities, but I’m ok with loving lots of different, crazy things.  How about you?

We need a lot of love in our lives – especially right now.

I don’t have to tell you how hard things have been lately.  Winter … Lent … death.  We have been challenged to maintain our sunny dispositions and our hope.  Spring is coming, but we are also looking at the hardest days of Lent ahead of us:  Maundy Thursday and Good Friday and Black Saturday – before we can get to Easter Sunday. 

I don’t mind telling you that number 9 on my list is a sunny spot by the window.  We take our blessings wherever we find them.

We know we’re getting close to the cross, and Jesus knows it too.  He refers to it as “being glorified,” which strikes me as a little strange and a little unnerving, because we know that the path to his glorification will be a ghastly affair.  Another one of those paradoxes, I guess, that the gospel serves us. 

Jesus might be a little unsettled by it too, and this is why I think so.  In John’s gospel Jesus is usually Mr. Cool.  He’s utterly in control, self-assured, wise beyond all wisdom.  So it’s surprising to find a little bit of uncertainty when he says, “Now my soul is troubled.” 

At our midweek prayer study we had an interesting conversation about whether it’s really ok to ask God for the things you want.  Some said no; they felt very strongly that the most appropriate thing to ask is that God’s will be done, just as Jesus suggested in the prayer he taught his disciples.  And never assume you know what that will is in any particular circumstance.  Others felt that it’s okay to ask boldly for whatever you want and with regard to God's will, just trust God to sort it all out.  After all, Jesus also told us we could ask for anything. 

Yet ... here ... Jesus doesn’t seem to do that.  He might want to be saved from the hour of suffering, since he brings up the subject, but he resists making that request.  He says, “No – this is what I am here for.”  The only way out of it is through it; the only way to resurrection is through suffering and death.  But he does ask for one thing:  Father, glorify your name.

And then, just as it happened at the time of his baptism years earlier, it happens again: a voice speaks from the heavens and offers assurance.  This time, the voice says, “I have glorified it and I will glorify it again.”  Through the unspeakable suffering there will be glory; in this sacrifice there will be redemption.

Jesus says to the people who were standing around, “this voice has come for your sake, not mine.”  But maybe, a little bit, for his sake too.  To have his father in heaven come alongside him, encourage him, love him – is this not a precious gift?  Remember, Jesus was fully human and every human needs love to carry us through the good and the bad days.

Number 31 on my list is rocking chairs.

We need to be loved and to love, as long as we are alive.  It’s what makes us know we are alive.

Some seasons hold more death than we would like, and this has been such a season for Faith.  We have grieved the loss of two vital members of our family in the past couple of months – very hard loss.  This is the gift and the cost of being family together – we share our losses. 

And in addition each one of us has experienced our own personal losses and hardships.

And in this season of Lent we collectively experience the death of Jesus and the suffering of the world he took on in his passion, and we are reminded that death is always with us – that it is inevitable – unavoidable – on our way toward life. 

We are reminded that unless the grain of wheat falls to the ground it will be no more than a single grain of wheat.  But if it falls to the ground and dies it will bring forth much new life. 

We know that many things die so something new can be born.  Every year we see the leaves fall from the trees so new buds can form in the spring and life can continue.  We know that old desires sometimes must die for growth to take place in human beings. 

We know that Jesus calls us to pick up our own cross and follow him, to die to the old life and be born again, and to do it not just once but whenever it is necessary – and in some ways it is necessary every single day.

To die to sin each new day, to reject Satan and the forces of evil and make a new commitment to life, to love, every day.

Number 58 is sitting with my family around the dinner table.

If we are recommitting to life every day, we are going to have to say goodbye to some things because everything has a lifespan.  If we want to commit ourselves to life, we sometimes need to say goodbye even to things we love.

Number 75 is good memories.

This life that we have been given is worth loving because it is so full of both joy and sorrows, and sometimes there is joy hidden in the sorrow.  This life is so breathtaking because each day it offers us new gifts, surprises, some new delight, some bit of pain that comes our way, sometimes the gift of a new insight – and gratitude.  This life we have been given is for living fully, in all its joys and pains and laughter and tears and struggles, all the sharing and caring, the giving and receiving – all of it; from the highest height to the deepest valley of tears.  This life is yours to live – the mistake is in letting fear get in the way of living it.  Fear is the thing that stops life.

The sounds of children on a playground is number 63.

Soon it will be Easter morning, but before that will be Good Friday.  Soon will come resurrected life, but before that some things must die.  We need not be afraid of death, of letting go.  We can still love what we must let go; as long as we are moving toward life, we have not really lost the things we love. 

Death happens along our life journey, but as G.K. Chesterton said, this is not something for resurrection people to worry about.  We believe in life.  We believe in love, in all shapes and sizes, at all times. 

What are the things you love?  Now is the best time to think of them.

May you have at least 100 things that you love. 

May you be grateful for those loved things and people that have died.

May you always, fearlessly move toward life.

Some Thoughts on NEXTChurch 2015 - Transformation

In the sanctuary of Fourth Presbyterian Church in Chicago, I looked up from my seat to see a large bird hanging from the rafters.  Its body and neck were made from a guitar; its head, wings, and feathers were constructed out of strips of paper.  The story behind the bird is a story of transformation.

Earlier in the week, more than 600 Presbyterians assembled for the 2015 NEXT Church National Gathering.  NEXT Church is a network that began among Presbyterian Church leaders who “believe the ‘church that is becoming’ is a church that is faithful, fruitful, diverse, and engaged in sharing good news of Jesus Christ in a changing world.”  The theme of this year’s 3-day gathering was “Beyond Our Walls, Our Fears, Ourselves:  Encountering God’s Transforming Grace.”

At opening worship on the first morning, we found our bulletins contained a strip of paper cut from familiar documents: old hymnals, Book of Order, and other church reports.  We were asked to write on the strip one thing that holds us back from moving into the future of the church.  The strips were put together to construct paper chains down the length of the sanctuary. 

Later in the day we were asked to use colored markers to write something that gives us hope for the future of the church, adding color to our chain wall.  The following day, in the midst of our shared work of discovering creative and innovative ways the church is moving forward, we were invited to tear the chains apart, link by link. 

Our final morning together we were greeted by the soaring bird – which was prayerfully created out of paper strips we used the first day to confess the fears that chain us, and the hopes that enliven us.  The message was clear, soaring above us:  all those things that hold you back have been loosed by the power of the Holy Spirit.  You are transformed … you are free.

My friends, this is the Easter story which defines us.  What was bound is now set free.  The old life is gone; God is doing a new thing.  Again and again, we are offered new birth, new life, in Christ Jesus. 

Each year on Easter Sunday this is the message.  Each Sunday of the year, in fact, this is the message – God is offering resurrected life!  That which is no longer useful may die so that something new can be born.

In this Easter season, know that the saving act of Christ was performed once and for all time. But know also that our response, the shedding of the old life and moving into the new life, is required of us each and every day.

May the blessing of Easter empower you today and every day.

All That Is Necessary

John 2:13-22  The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the moneychangers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the moneychangers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.” The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking of the temple of his body. After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.

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In research on human emotion, there are theories about which emotions are the most basic, foundational feelings.  On the positive side, there is happy.  And then, of course there is sad.  But some say the feelings that are at the very bottom of it all, the two most primitive emotions, are rage and fear.  Rage and fear – two different emotions.  There is no consensus on which of the two is more basic than the other.  They may be equally base.  At the bottom of our humanness is the combination of rage and fear.

I can’t think of anyplace in the gospels where we can clearly see Jesus expressing fear.  But this passage from John is the one place where we see clear, unquestionable rage.  Jesus is angry.  So if you were ever taught that anger is a sin, think again.

Jesus is angry at this moment in the temple.  He rages.  He makes a whip and drives the animals out.  He dumps out the vendors’ coins and turns over their tables.  Get. Out. Of. Here. Now.

There are cattle running, doves flying, coins tumbling.  The people are, no doubt, frightened and confused.  What in the world is going on here?  Quite a lot, actually.

It is the Passover in Jerusalem, which always means a very crowded and busy time.  It’s the time when Jews from all over the world would make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the holy city.  They would visit the temple and make sacrifices to God.  The books of the law, Leviticus most specifically, clearly delineate how sacrifices are to be made.  And the people of Israel are merely trying to do it right.  They need a perfect animal, unblemished, to present at the temple and, all things considered, the best way to do that is not to schlep a cow from home, but to wait until you get there to purchase it.  The men and women selling animals were needed, all this was necessary.

Furthermore, there was a currency exchange issue.  People were coming to Jerusalem from all over the world, with all different forms of currency. Perhaps some of these could be used at the temple, but others could not be used, and would have to be exchanged for an appropriate form of cash.  They would need money to pay for the animals they were buying; they would need money for their temple offering.  Obviously, the moneychangers needed to be there; this was a service they performed.  All this was necessary.

Not to say that it wasn’t a golden opportunity for the merchants and moneychangers.  Anyone trying to make a living in Jerusalem might see Passover as his or her Black Friday.  It was the time of the year when they would make their nut, so to speak.  There is no law against making a living. 

Now, some would say they were taking advantage of the people; that the moneychangers were charging exorbitantly high service charges; that the merchants were jacking up the prices for cattle and sheep and doves.  That may have been true.  Whatever the market will bear was probably true then as it is now.  It’s the reason why they may charge $4 for a bottle of water at the airport or $15 for a hamburger in Manhattan – because they can.

The temple was crowded with out of towners and loud with competitive commerce and dirty with animals.  But all of this was the way it was supposed to be.  It was the sight and sound and texture of everyone trying to do the things that were necessary.  And it makes me wonder why Jesus got so unbelievably angry with people doing what was necessary.

And then it occurs to me that his anger also is something that was necessary.

A few years ago a book was published called The Great Emergence, by Phyllis Tickle, a religious scholar.  She writes that about every 500 years the church feels compelled to hold a giant rummage sale, getting rid of those things that are no longer useful or meaningful and deciding what to keep going forward.  Five hundred years ago we had the great reformation when the protestant church was born.  Five hundred years before that there was the great schism when the Eastern Church split from the western church over theological matters.  Five hundred years before that the Roman Empire collapsed and the beginning of the monastic movement kept the church going through the dark ages. 

Five hundred years before that, of course, was Jesus of Nazareth and the birth of the church, and we could go back another 500 years and look at the Babylonian exile of Israel and see how that fundamentally changed Judaism.  Every 500 years or so, things get shaken up.  Do you see what that means?  It means that it’s about time now for another rummage sale.

And we are seeing some evidence of it.  There is a lot of talk about the changes we are facing as a church, and they are not like the other changes we might have seen over our lifetime.  This time we can’t tweak around the edges of our worship and Sunday school programs.  This time there is a need for fundamental and radical change.

No one likes to talk about it, but we are seeing decline of a serious nature.  We are seeing it across all or most denominations.  It’s something we tend to get embarrassed about but there is really no need to be embarrassed or ashamed because this decline is not singling us out – it is affecting everyone.

There is a lot of talk about how the church is dying. I hate to say those words as much as I hate hearing them.  It is true that some particular congregations have died; more probably will die.  This is a part of the change.  When the tree is no longer bearing fruit, it will wither and die. 

There are some things that will die so that something new can be born.  Just like other kinds of death, there are the stages of grief: first denial; then anger.  The longer we stay in denial the less we are able to impact the future.  But moving from denial into anger is a very uncomfortable thing.  I think that’s how things were when Jesus went to the temple that day. Maybe there was a lot of denial around him, but Jesus was angry.

Is there anger in the church today? You bet there is.  There is anger both inside the church and outside the church about the ways the church has failed.  There is anger about abuses and bad actors and there is anger about those who have remained silent.  There is anger about what is perceived as hypocrisy; there is anger about a younger generation walking away from us as if we have nothing to offer.  There is anger about being regarded as irrelevant.  All this anger is somehow justified, but it is also just a symptom.

The church is gearing up for another big change and that makes people upset.  The church is gearing up for another big change and no one can tell you exactly what it will be.  But tables will be overturned in the process.  People will get angry.  All that is necessary will happen.

If you are wondering what hope we have in all this, I will tell you what I know:  Our hope lies in our faithfulness to the gospel of Jesus Christ.  That is where the hope has always resided.  There have been times in our history when the church has lost sight of that: times when it has become too concerned with its own power, times when it has become too complacent about its existence and careless about its mission; times when it has become too fixated on rules at the expense of compassion. 

Today, from where I stand, I see both spiritual and cultural factors at play in this shakeup.  I won’t offer a 5-point plan because there is no such thing.  But there are conversations to be had among us, to take an honest assessment of our faithfulness, our flaws, and our hope for the future.   What is important is for us to listen together for the guidance of the Holy Spirit – with trust and without fear.  We all need to be a part of this.

The time for pretending that nothing serious is going on is over.  The time for lamenting the fact that things are not the way they used to be is over.  Now is the time to listen with our whole heart and mind, to listen for where the Spirit is directing us, and begin to take the first steps.

First the Bad News

Mark 8:31-38 Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

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You don’t usually want to lead with the bad news.  When you call a relative who worries way too much.  The kind of person who assumes the worst every time the phone rings; the person who follows “Hello,” with “What’s wrong?”  When you call that person you might start the conversation with, “Hi; we are fine,” just so you can get on with other things.

You don’t lead with the bad news when you are reporting to your boss on a project you’ve been working on.  First you tell her about the successes, then you can fill her in on those areas where you’re still having problems – if you have to.  If it’s not necessary to talk about it then why say anything?  But if you have to share the bad news, it’s probably best to start with the good news. 

In general, it’s best to start with the good news.  But in this passage from Mark’s gospel, it’s all bad news.

Why is it that the church tends to lead with the bad news?  No sooner do you get settled in your seats do we make you confess your sins, like it or not.  It’s as though we’re afraid you might have been a little too happy when you came in this morning and we want to bring you down a notch.  You have to face the bad news before we let any good news be heard.

It’s a wonder anyone sticks around.  It’s surprising that anyone comes back for more.  And in the season of Lent we double down on the bad news, don’t we?  We ask you to spend six whole weeks looking for things to feel bad about.

Consider the traditional Lenten disciplines, like fasting.  My mother-in-law, a Baptist, once told me flat out, “I just don’t see the point of it.”  She said, “I’ve tried to have an open mind about it, but I just don’t think there is anything to be gained by making myself suffer.”  I think a lot of people would agree with her, that self-denial is pointless.  To be fair, I think one might say there is more than enough suffering in life without having to go out and look for it.  And that may be true.

But still, I don’t know how you reconcile that position with stories like this one from the gospel.  How do you make sense of “Deny yourself; take up your cross and follow me” if there is no point in self-denial? 

I think you should know something.  Were it not for the liturgical calendar and the common lectionary, I would be unlikely to select this passage for preaching.  I believe I can speak for many preachers when I say we would prefer to deliver good news most of the time.  And it’s not just because we are by nature “people pleasers.”  It’s because we like good news over bad news just as much as you do. 

It’s clear that Peter didn’t like the bad news – particularly now.  Jesus and the disciples had been riding a pretty good high.  They’d been sailing around the region of Galilee feeding the hungry, healing the blind and the deaf, and casting demons out of innocent children.  Peter and the others still didn’t really understand just what they were a part of, but it looked like something exceptionally good.  They were riding a good wave right now.  And it doesn’t seem like a good move to suddenly start talking about death and denial and other unpleasantness.  Besides, none of those things seem likely to occur from where Peter is standing. 

In the verses preceding this passage, Peter has just made the ultimate statement of faith: You are the Messiah.  Quite right.  And everyone knows that the Messiah will triumph – not suffer a miserable failure.  So when Peter tries to advise Jesus against all this negativity, there are reasons.  However, his reasons are flawed, the same way our reasoning is very often flawed.

Jesus answers him, “Peter, you are setting your mind on human things, not divine things.”  Let’s sit with that for a minute.  Actually, Peter believed his intentions were completely in sync with the divine.  The long-awaited Messiah had come. God would deliver the people of Israel.  The blind would see and the deaf would hear and the kingdom of God would prevail.  If anyone, it is Jesus who is more preoccupied right now with human things – human suffering, specifically. 

He says if you want to save your life you need to lose it.  He says if you want to be my follower, you need to deny yourself.  He says you need to pick up your cross and follow me – follow me.  And you and I know where Jesus is going, don’t we?

I can see how it’s surprising to Peter, given all the goodness they have been witnessing.  And I can see how it is disturbing to Peter; because it seems to negate all the work they have been doing to relieve suffering.  I can see why it’s discouraging for Peter, because he doesn’t know how it will all unfold.  There will be plenty of darkness ahead and more than enough suffering.

But here is where we finally get the good news.

Mark’s gospel is directing us to the crossroads of human suffering and divine presence.  What Mark wants us to see is that the place of suffering is the place where the divine meets humanity in the form of Jesus Christ.  Mark was writing to a community who knew suffering as well as they knew anything.  He wants them, and us, to be assured that Jesus will meet us in our suffering.  But there’s more: he also wants us to know that Jesus calls us to never turn our backs on suffering. 

The truth is, suffering is always with us; the poor will always be with us – Jesus said so himself; war will always be with us; and death will always be with us, until the kingdom comes in its full glory.  In the meantime, we can certainly try to banish suffering by filling ourselves up with pleasant things, comfortable things, things that calm us.  We can try to keep away suffering by distancing ourselves from any unpleasantness in the world around us.  We can do these things, but it is actually dangerous to our souls. 

One thing Jesus has clearly shown us is that God is always with those who suffer.  Scripture shows us that God is on the side of the weak and the afflicted.  Where there is suffering, there is Christ.  If we shut ourselves off from the suffering we would risk cutting ourselves off from the presence of God.  And without God, what good is there?

I like it when church is happy.  But not at the risk of denying those for whom there is no happiness. 

And so, with the gospel, we lead with the bad news – always.  Give the bad news its moment in the spotlight.  And then, without fail, the good news will shine all over it.