"Chicken Power" - February 28, 2010

Text: Luke 13:31-35

We talk a lot about power.

There is solar power and wind power and nuclear and hydroelectric and geothermal power and coal-fired power plants.

There is also Girl Power.
And Black Power.
Manpower.
Horsepower.
Brain power.
Power plays and Power Rangers.
Power surges and Power Forwards.
A lot of people seem to get excited about Powerball.

You’ve got Power lifting and Power yoga
and Robert Schuller’s Hour of Power,
not to mention the Power of Persuasion.

We say “Power to the People,” but we also say “Fight the Power.”

The Bible says that we are engaged in a battle with the “Principalities and Powers.”

We talk a lot about power, and with good reason.  Power is necessary.  Power gets things done.  And in a world where we can sometimes seem powerless in the face of so many things beyond our control – the economy, the job market, the weather, matters of health, our insurance company, the attitudes and actions of various people, the fortunes of our favorite team, on and on it goes – we want to grab on to what power we can.  So maybe we wear a power tie or have a power lunch or we do some power Pilates in an effort to get whatever edge we can.

One way of viewing our scripture today is to see it as being about power.  It begins with some Pharisees warning Jesus that Herod wants to have him killed and that he should get the heck out of Dodge.

This may be surprising because we often have this picture of the Pharisees as the bad guys.  Often, they are not pictured in an especially good light, and Jesus often has run-ins with Pharisees.  But we oversimplify things when we say the Pharisees were all opposed to Jesus.  Some were friendly with and supportive of Jesus, and the Pharisees were in fact the more reform-minded Jewish party of the time, and Jesus’ views were closer to the Pharisees than any other Jewish group of the time.

Here, some Pharisees bring a warning that Herod is out to get him.  Maybe they were worried because with Jesus out of the way, maybe Herod might turn his attention to the Pharisees.  We don’t know their motivation, but taken at face value, they are concerned for Jesus and warn him about Herod’s intentions.

Now you need to understand that Herod is not somebody to mess with.  You may remember that John the Baptist got into a bit of hot water with Herod and wound up with his head on a platter.  And now Herod was hearing about Jesus, who reminded him a lot of John. 

If you were told that the most powerful person in your part of the world wanted you dead, and you knew that he had already killed people like you, how would you react?  I think I would be gassing up the car.

Herod represents one kind of power.  Coercive power, power over the lives of others.  Jesus is told that Herod wants him dead, and Herod clearly had the power to see this happen.  Yet Jesus doesn’t flinch.  Jesus operates by another kind of power.  He says, “Go and tell that fox that I’ve got bigger concerns than his latest temper tantrum.  I’ve got work to do.  Look, I’m casting out demons, I’m healing people, and then I’m going on to Jerusalem.  I may get killed, but if I do, it will be in Jerusalem, the city that kills prophets.” (Jerusalem also happened to be a city that was out of Herod’s jurisdiction.)

Jesus calls Herod a “fox.”  Now, it is probably necessary to point out that the connotation of the word “fox” has changed over the years.  Today, being called a fox is not such an awful thing.  My mother went to high school in McLeansboro, Illinois, and the school mascot was the fox.  The sports teams were, and are, the McLeansboro Foxes.  The implications of being a fox have changed even since then.  Once in awhile at a basketball game, the PA system at Hilton Coliseum will play that Jimi Hendrix tune “Foxy Lady,” and Jimi was talking about something else altogether. 

Well, forget those modern connotations of “fox.”  In that day, a fox was a worthless animal.  It is not a compliment.

Jesus has got a lot of nerve.  He’s either really brave or really crazy or really dumb.  Or maybe he knows exactly what he is doing.
 
Jesus says, “Forget Herod.  I am not going to concern myself with such trivial things.  I am going to focus on what I have been called to do.”  And he proceeds to talk about what he has been called to do, and uses the image of another animal for himself.  But it’s not the image we might expect.

As a veteran of many youth groups and campus ministry gatherings, I have been a part of a lot of icebreakers and have answered questions like “If you were a car, what kind of car would you be?” or “if you were a pizza topping, what kind of pizza topping would you be?”  Well, if you had to describe Jesus as an animal, what animal would Jesus be?

This question is actually taken up in scripture.  There is an Old Testament reference to the Lion as a symbol for the tribe of Judah, and that description is applied to Jesus – one of the titles for Jesus is “Lion of Judah.”  And that is kind of impressive.  Strong, proud, the king of the jungle.  We like that.  Or we might think of Jesus as an eagle: strong, powerful, keen vision, soaring above it all.

There are various animals that might come to mind to describe Jesus – maybe a tough bear or a loyal dog or a wise owl - but one we would probably not apply to Jesus is a hen.  Jesus as a hen?

Yet that is exactly what he says.  Jesus ignores the threat posed by Herod and continues his work, which will lead him to Jerusalem.  And he is filled with compassion for the city.  “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!  How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Jesus pours out his heart for Jerusalem.  “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

The pain in Jesus’ lament for Jerusalem is apparent.  To have love go unreturned is always painful.  He loved the people, cared for them, would have gathered them to himself and protected them, nurtured them, if he could.  But it wasn’t up to him.

Jesus’ use of imagery seems a little strange at first, but then most of us don’t raise chickens.  I know that many of you kept chickens when you were younger, but we don’t have chickens here in the big city.

But we need to understand the image he uses.  A mother hen, gathering her brood, out of love, out of care.  A mother hen, whose only concern is for the safety of her children.

Have you ever seen a chicken hawk go after its prey?  The old mother hen is often aware of the presence of the hawk in time to gather her chicks under her wing.  With a furious fuss she squawks till her brood is safe by her side.  She fluffs out her wings and protects them with her own body.  The chicken hawk dives and the old hen turns her body toward him and cocks a wary eye without moving from her children.  The predator comes in again and the mother spreads her wings even wider.  A third time he dives only to be thwarted by the determined self-sacrifice of the mother hen.  She is too big to be a target and the chicks are too safe to be seized so he flies away.

Chickens may not be the most glamorous animals, but hens care for their young.  A farmer told the story about the day that the hen house burned down on his grandpa's place just down the road.  He arrived just in time to help put out the last of the fire.  As he and his grandfather sorted through the wreckage, they came upon one hen lying near what had been the door of the hen house.  Her top feathers were singed brown by the fire's heat, her neck limp.  He bent down to pick up the dead hen and as he did so, he felt movement.  The hen’s four chicks came scurrying out from beneath her burnt body.  The chicks survived because they were insulated by the shelter of the hen’s wings, protected and saved even as she died to protect and save them (story from Richard Fairchild).

That’s the image of Jesus’ sacrificial love for us that would gather his own unto himself and die to save us.  A tender, self-sacrificing love.  “How I would have gathered you under my wings, but you were not willing.”

Now while Jesus as a mother hen may be a moving and comforting image, when it comes to dealing with foxes, we would still prefer something a little more solid.  When the foxes of our world start prowling outside the door, it would be nice to have a little better defense than a mother hen.

Barbara Brown Taylor tells about going to see the movie Pale Rider, starring Clint Eastwood.  A number of years ago, clergy in the Atlanta area were invited to a special preview of the movie.  She wasn’t sure what it might have to do with church, but she went.  It turns out that in the movie, Clint is a frontier preacher with a past, only you don’t know what kind of past.  He walked around in his clerical collar, deeply pained.  Once when he takes his shirt off, you can see scars from three bullet wounds in his back.

One day he rides into a mining town that has been overrun by foxes.  The corrupt sheriff is in cahoots with a bunch of armed thugs who shoot anyone in their way.  For a while, Clint just takes it in, figuring out who the foxes are.

Then he goes to the bank and produces a key to a safety deposit box – a key to his past – and pulls out a drawer with two six-shooters and a beltful of bullets.  He carefully straps it on his waist.  Then he takes off his clerical collar and placed it back in the drawer.  Brown said that the audience full of clergy went wild.  Go get ‘em, Clint!  Go get those foxes and nail their tails to the wall!  Which is exactly what Clint did. 

We might prefer a six-shooter to a hen, but Clint is Clint and Jesus is Jesus.  He fought the foxes of the world without becoming a fox himself.  When Herod and his gang came after Jesus, he didn’t have any six-shooters.  All he had was his own body.  He just put himself between the foxes and his chicks and hunkered down like a mother hen.

At first, it appeared the foxes had won.  Feathers were everywhere and the chicks scattered.  But that was not the end of it.  The hen came back to the chicks, covered with teeth marks, and proved that the power of the foxes could not kill her love for them.

So there you have it: Jesus the chicken.  The mother hen who offers her self for the life of the chicks.

Herod and Jesus, a fox and a hen, represent two very different approaches to power.

Herod’s power is coercive.  He operates by force.  Jesus forces no one.

Herod’s power is self-serving while Jesus’ uses power to serve others.

Herod’s power is destructive while Jesus’ power builds up.

Herod’s is power over others.  Jesus’ is power alongside others.  Herod must strip power from others.  He takes.  But Jesus gives power away, em-powers others.  He gives.

With Herod, there is a fixed amount of power, and one gains power only at the expense of others.  With Jesus, power is shared and given away and grows in the process.

Herod is afraid of losing power.  Napoleon once said, “Power is my mistress.  I have worked too hard at her conquest to allow anyone to take her away from me.”  This reflects coercive power that is afraid of losing hold of that power.  It takes a lot of effort just to hold on to power.  A good part of the problem with our political process is that so much energy goes into holding on to power rather than serving the needs of the people.  But in the face of a very real threat, Jesus is not fearful.  His power is a power that cannot be taken away.  Rather than live in fear for himself, he lives in compassion for others.

Herod’s is the power of force, while Jesus’ is the power of love.  Herod is all about the love of power, while Jesus is all about the power of love.  And that is a huge difference.

We may be tempted to emulate Herod.  We may be tempted to fight and claw our way to the top, make a grab for power, and use that power for our own purposes.  To use another animal image, Lily Tomlin once said, “The problem with the rat race is that even if you win, you are still a rat.”

Jesus shows us another way.  Rather than love of power, he shows us the power of love.  Herod’s power, coercive power, fox power, will slip away.  Jesus’ power, chicken power, the power of love, is the only power that really lasts.  JB Phillips’ translation of I Corinthians 13:7 puts it this way: “Love knows no limit to its endurance, no end to its trust, no fading of its hope; it can outlast anything. Love still stands when all else has fallen.”  In the end, the hen really does defeat the fox.  Amen.

"An Opportune Time" - February 21, 2010

Text: Luke 4:1-13

This past Wednesday - Ash Wednesday - a small group gathered in the lounge to worship.  Ash Wednesday marked the beginning of Lent, a season of reflection and repentance and spiritual renewal that leads up to the celebration of resurrection on Easter.  On Wednesday night, we had ashes placed on our foreheads as we were told, “Die to sin so that you may be alive to Jesus Christ.”  These were more sober and serious than we generally use.  By temperament I tend to come at such matters more indirectly.  Even as a minister, I do not generally look someone in the eye and tell them to “Die to sin,” so it was a different kind of experience all the way around.

And I think that is good.  We can get so stuck in the usual ways of being and doing that we don’t stop to think what it is we are about.  That is part of the purpose of Lent – it is supposed to be a kind of spiritual wake-up call, and that is something we need.

The traditional reading for the First Sunday in Lent is Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.  In fact, Lent lasts for 40 days to correspond with Jesus’ forty days in the wilderness.

Most of us are familiar with this story, so much so that it is hard for it to function as a wake-up call for us.  It is nice to have familiar stories, but the problem with such stories is that they can lose their effect.  We are not in the least bit surprised to hear that Jesus was tempted by the devil.  It doesn’t sound like a big deal that Jesus fasted for 40 days in the wilderness – I mean, he does this every year, right?  He can handle it.

And maybe it is because I have heard this so many times before, I don’t know, but to be real honest, the devil doesn’t seem that scary and the temptations don’t really sound all that hard to say no to.  I tend to picture the devil as that friendly little guy on a can of Underwood Deviled Ham.  And in this scripture, he has a little chat with Jesus, offering things that don’t sound so evil, don’t sound so awful.

The first temptation doesn’t seem so bad.  “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.”  No doubt Jesus was famished.  He had been fasting for forty days.  What could be the harm?

And then, the devil shows Jesus all the kingdoms of the world, and says to him, “All of this will be yours, if you will only worship me.”  Well, worshiping the devil is not a temptation.  Having power over the kingdoms of the world – that might be tempting, but Jesus has no trouble fending off this temptation.

And then, the devil takes Jesus to the pinnacle of the temple and tells him to throw himself down, and the angels will catch him.  As we read this, many of us wouldn’t even want to be at the highest point of the temple, for fear of heights, much less jump off.  It isn’t that tempting.  And like I said, we have heard this story so many times that these do not really sound like serious temptations.

When we examine these a bit more closely, however, each of these temptations is quite attractive.  Hunger is a powerful motivator.  We have to eat.  You may recall that Moses struck a rock with a rod and water came forth.  This would not be completely unprecedented.  What could it hurt?

And to have power over the nations… for a lot of people, that was their greatest hope for Jesus.  Power to overthrow Rome, power to restore the fortunes of Israel.  Israel not only was oppressed by they Romans; over the centuries they had been under the thumb of Babylon and Syria and Persia and Egypt.  To have power over all of these nations would be powerfully attractive.  But did you catch what the devil said?  He said that he had power over all of the earth and he would give it to Jesus.  Well, that wasn’t true.  The devil did not have all glory and authority over the nations.  Just because he said it didn’t make it so.  Part of the temptation here was the temptation to believe a lie, and that is something we face every day.

And then to jump off the temple and be caught by angels – imagine the excitement that would cause.  Right in view of the religious leaders, the ones who gave Jesus such a hard time.  How better to prove who he was?  How better to draw in the crowds and gain followers?  In the big picture of things, this could go a long, long way toward the success of Jesus’ ministry.

There was good to be gained by each of these temptations.  And that is the way temptation works.  We are not tempted by heartache and disease and destruction, we are most tempted by what seem to be good things.

The real temptation for Jesus was to forget who he was, to forget his calling from God, and use his power for his own purposes.  Our temptations are often that way – the temptation to leave God behind and forget about our true self, our real self, our best self. 

It is very interesting that the Bible says Jesus was led into the wilderness by the Holy Spirit.  At the beginning of his ministry, this was apparently something that Jesus needed.   William Willimon argues that Jesus began his ministry with a series of temptations not simply to test Jesus’ own mettle but because we, too, live in a world that is rife with temptations and the brokenness that comes from our giving in to them.

Willimon said that years ago he was the pastor of a suburban church.  Every week he led a daytime Bible study for a group of mostly older ladies in the congregation.  At one point, Mrs. Donaldson began to bring a woman with her to the group.  Shirlene was very much from the other side of the tracks.  She and Mrs. Donaldson had met when Mrs. Donaldson had volunteered in a local clothing ministry.  She gave Shirlene a nice new Bible and began to take her along to Bible study, where she was warmly received into the group.

One week the topic of discussion was temptation.  Rev. Willimon led the ladies in thinking about the nature of temptation and how to rely on God to resist it.  Then he asked that typical Bible study question, “Does anyone want to share a story of a time you felt tempted but were aided by God’s strength?”

One kindly soul piped up to say, “Yes, Reverend, I have one. Last week at the Piggly Wiggly there was some confusion in the checkout aisle.  They were training a new girl and, well, next thing you know there I am in the parking lot with a loaf of bread I hadn’t paid for.  Now at first I thought, ‘Well, it’s not my fault and anyway it's only 99 cents.’  But then I thought, no, that would be wrong, so I went back in and paid for it.”  Everyone nodded and smiled.

Then Mrs. Jenkins said, “Last week I overheard a couple of folks sharing some gossip about someone.  It just so happened that I, too, had recently heard a few juicy tidbits about old so-and-so and this was right on the tip of my tongue to say to these other people when something stopped me and I decided, no, I won’t share in this rumor mill.” More nods.

It was quiet for a moment before Shirlene cleared her throat and said, “A couple of years ago my boyfriend and me--he's the father of my youngest child but not of the older two--anyway, him and me were big into cocaine.  Well, you know how that stuff messes with your head!  So one day we’re in the pharmacy and my boyfriend all of a sudden decides to tell the cashier to give him all the money in the cash register. And she done it.  It was like takin’ candy from a baby.  So we ran out of there real fast.  Then we see this 7-11 down the street a ways and he says to me, ‘Let’s knock that over, too.’  But something in me kinda snapped and I told him no.  I robbed that pharmacy with you, but I’m not doing no 7-11.  I was glad I resisted.  Made me feel like somebody.”

Nobody nodded this time. After fidgeting nervously with the cover of his Bible for a few moments, Rev. Willimon weakly said, “Yes, well, that’s rather what we’ve been talking about today.  Shall we close now in prayer?”  Willimon later berated himself for not being more compassionate at the time.  He, and the other members of the group were simply not prepared to have the messy, untidy, real world brought right into the middle of their nice meeting.

It’s kind of that way with us.  When we think temptation, we probably think too small.  We think of Temptations as the name of a chocolate store.  It’s a lot tougher than that.  Often, the temptations we face are so subtle and so insidious that we don’t even recognize them. 

Now, just reading the story quickly, you might think that Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days, and at the end of it there was this 15 minute temptation session with the devil, and then it was over.

“Turn this bread to stone.”  “Man does not live by bread alone.” 

“Worship me and you will have power over the nations.”  “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.”

“If you are the Son of God, throw yourself from the top of the temple.”  “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”

And then it was over.  That’s kind of the way it reads. 

But you may have noticed that the text says that “for 40 days he was tempted by the devil.”  I think the real struggle was not so much an external struggle, with a guy in a red suit trying to make Jesus an offer he couldn’t refuse.  I think it was more of an internal struggle.  At the start of his ministry, Jesus had to decide who he was and what he was about.  What kind of a savior was he going to be?  How would he live out his mission and calling from God?  This is why the Spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness.  It was crucial that he grappled with these questions.

We all have to answer those same sort of questions.  Who am I?  What is my life about?  What is important to me?  How will I live out my faith?  What does it mean for me to follow Jesus?  How can I best serve God? 

The temptations that Jesus are presented with may not sound that enticing, maybe because we have heard this all before.  But for me, the scariest part of the whole story is the very last verse, which can easily be overlooked.  “The devil departed from him until an opportune time.”

This wasn’t over.  It was just getting started.  And it is that way for us.  We may think we have said No to temptation, but it comes back.  Temptation is not just a one-time deal.  Temptation is in it for the long haul.  When we are vulnerable, temptation is there.  And often, temptation works its effects over the long haul. 

Love and care for another can slowly change over time until it is something more like control and smothering.

Using influence as a leader for the sake of others, in order to bring about good, can in time become wielding power for one’s own purposes.

Working hard to provide for one’s family can morph into accumulating all kinds of stuff and living for material gain.

An honest and earnest prayer for healing can subtly and almost imperceptibly be changed until one day we look up and scam artists are all over our TV screens claiming healing powers in order to fatten their wallets and make a name for themselves.

The joy of open and welcoming fellowship in the church can move glacially over the months and years until one day we realize we have exchanged the open door of Christian fellowship for a closed-door club of people who look and think and act an awful lot like us.

There is nothing good in this world that the devil, by biding his time, cannot see changed slowly and imperceptibly into a force for evil.  The opportune time comes and we don’t even know it.

Temptation was in the news this week.  On Friday morning, Tiger Woods had a press conference in which he confessed that he had felt he “deserved to enjoy the temptations” that came with his fabulous success.  In our vulnerability, we may give in to temptation, but for Tiger Woods, his great success became the “opportune time.”

Rather than saying no to temptation and being done with it, resisting temptation and staying true to who we are and true to God’s ways is a choice we have to make again and again.

There is this tradition many people follow of giving up something for Lent – maybe some of you have done that.  In this story, we see Jesus both giving up and taking on.  He gave up using his power for his own purposes in order to stay faithful to God.  He gave up taking the quick or easy way and took on the way of being faithful over the long run. 

Here are some things we might want to give up, and take on, as we seek to live faithfully.

• Fast from the need for attention; Feast on attending the need of others
• Fast from indifference; Feast on the difference we can make
• Fast from dwelling on mistakes of the past; Feast on what they have taught you
• Fast from family feuds; Feast on family prayer
• Fast from searching for happiness; Feast on bringing happiness to others
• Fast from cynicism; Feast on hope
• Fast from predictability; Feast on an open spirit
• Fast from talking; Feast on listening
• Fast from false security; Feast on an abiding trust in God
• Fast from negatives; Feast on positives
• Fast from bitterness; Feast on forgiveness
• Fast from anxiety; Feast on trust
• Fast from complaining; Feast on appreciation
• Fast from worry; Feast on blessings
• Fast from discontent; Feast on gratitude
• Fast from pride; Feast on humility
• Fast from childishness; Feast on childlikeness
• Fast from the struggle to reshape the world; Feast on the peace of God (adapted, original author unknown)

"All you Need Is Love..." - February 14, 2010

Text: I Corinthians 13

You may have noticed that a couple of weeks ago, our New Testament lectionary reading was I Corinthians chapter 13.   The sermon that day (I’m sure you all remember!) focused on the call of the prophet Jeremiah, so while we read I Corinthians 13, we did not look at it closely.

This being Valentine’s Day, we’re going to go back and take a look at this text that is sometimes called the “love chapter” of the Bible.  It is familiar even to many people who don’t go to church because it is far and away the most popular scripture for wedding ceremonies.  But lest you think it is some kind of romantic verse written for newlyweds, I need to tell you that it was written not to young lovers but to the church in Corinth, a church with problems.  Real Problems.  Serious Problems.  Major Problems.  I mean, this was one messed-up church.

Among other things, there was sexual immorality, including a man sleeping with his stepmother; there were abuses in the Lord’s Supper, with some stuffing themselves with food and getting drunk while others got nothing at all; there was a huge divide between wealthy members and needy members; there were arguments over who was the best apostle, with the church splitting into factions; there were arguments over who was most important and whose gift were most valuable; and there was serious disagreement over how the church was to relate to the wider culture.  (I told you this church had problems!)

In I Corinthians chapter 13, Paul gets at the deeper issue that underlies the various problems the church in Corinth faced.  The deeper problem was a lack of love.

First, love is necessary for the other gifts to have meaning.  A young boy smelled wonderful smells coming from the kitchen and went to check it out.  His mother was busy baking.

He discovered a pan of chocolate sauce.  His mother told him that he could have some when it was ready.  The boy put on his very sad, pitiful face and said, “Oh please, mom, just a taste.  Please!”  She told him he wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t believe her—how could he not like chocolate?  So the mother relented and let the boy have a spoonful of chocolate sauce.

It was awful!  It wasn’t like chocolate at all.  Yet it looked like chocolate.  And his mother assured him, as she laughed at his puckered up face, that it was real chocolate and all chocolate and nothing but chocolate.

And that was the problem: it was nothing but chocolate.  It lacked something very essential to make it taste good--it lacked sugar. 

This is kind of like what was going on in Corinth.  There were people with tremendous gifts: teachers, healers, those who could speak in tongues.  There were excellent preachers and there were those who had the gift of helping.  Some had the gift of prophecy.  There was enthusiasm, there were willing workers.  They had everything needed for a vital church except for one thing.  The missing ingredient was love.

Writing on music for worship, Brian Wren said, “It’s possible to sing without believing a word of what you say, but if you believe in what you’re singing, then body, mind, and spirit come together.”  When we sing with love, it makes a world of difference.  Love must be present in order for the other gifts to have meaning.

Some of us come from traditions where the annual revival was a big deal.  A pastor told about an evangelist who came to lead revival services.  This man was a great preacher, he was enthusiastic, knew how to deliver an inspiring sermon.  He may have been the best preacher ever to set foot in that church, but he didn’t make much of an impression.  Something wasn’t quite right.  It had to do with this preacher’s attitude – he seemed to be the center of his own universe. 

Through the week, he kept referring to the pastor as “brother.”  Never once called him by his name.  After a few days, the pastor confronted the evangelist.  “You keep calling me ‘Brother’ because you don’t know my name, do you?”  The evangelist kind of shrugged and said, “I meet a lot of people.”  Lacking in love, this man’s other gifts were not very useful. 

Paul also says that love must be wedded to a higher good.  “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.”

I put a sermon title in the bulletin because that is the way it works.  For some reason, the Beatles’ song came to mind: “All You Need Is Love.”  I hate to be deceptive in advertising, but the Beatles did not have it exactly right.  You have to have love.  We cannot do without love.  But love by itself really is not enough.   

Writing in The Christian Century, Gilbert Meilaender had an article titled “That Demon Love.”  (Now there’s a catchy title!)  He argues that because of the fierce devotion love provokes, it can actually become terrible when it is unchecked by any higher loyalty or devotion. 

An extreme example of what Meilaender is saying might be those in Germany who loved their country so much, they could not criticize the Nazis. 

A more commonplace example might be the story of a mother and daughter--Mary and Jennifer, we will call them.  Mary is a devout Christian.  She is concerned about children who grow up without actually being reared.  She is concerned that churches transmit Christian values and ways of living.  She is concerned about the lack of civility in our culture.

Now her daughter Jennifer, after 20 years of marriage, has divorced her husband.  She does not love him, she says, hasn’t for years.  Her marriage is dead and cannot be revived.  Jennifer is unwilling to go with her husband for any kind of marriage counseling.  She just wants out of the marriage.

Clearly, this is a crisis for Mary.  (It is a crisis for a lot of people, but we’re focusing on Mary for now.)  There is little Mary can do to change the situation.  The question is, how is she to support her daughter?  How does one love unconditionally and devotedly as a mother is supposed to love?

Jennifer knows what support she needs.  Her ex-husband is a villain and a jerk, he’s a low-life, and all who love and support her must share this view.  He was never loving, he was mean and hateful, and now, after the divorce, he only wants to cause trouble.  He is unreasonable about money.  Yes, he makes the court-mandated child support payments, but he doesn’t really give Jennifer’s daughter the money she needs.  This is the way Jennifer sees it, and to disagree with her position means being against her.

It is hard for Mary, but what is she to do?  She finally comes around, and she grows to despise Jennifer’s ex-husband, hate him just as Jennifer does.  It’s part of being a loving mother.

Love can be stretched and pulled and tugged at and come out not really being love at all.  Does Mary show love for Jennifer, or is it something more like fear of losing her daughter if she does not give Jennifer exactly what she asks?

Love be wedded to a higher good.  Taken alone and isolated from love of God and commitment to goodness, love can go bad.  Or said another way, it can become something less than love. 

Now, maybe I need to back up for a minute.  Maybe the Beatles weren’t wrong -- I’d hate to say that.  It wouldn’t be as catchy a song title, but you could say, “All You Need Is Love, Rightly Understood.”

True love understands that acquiescing to the demands of the other and excusing hurtful behaviors of the other is not the most loving thing to do.  Sometimes challenging the other, sometimes confronting the other, sometimes saying “no” to the other, is the most loving action.  There is a risk that in saying “No,” one’s love is rejected.  But if one is unwilling ever to say no, then what is at work may be something other than love.  Love must be wedded to a higher good.

And then Paul says that love must be unconditional.  “Love bears all things.”  If loved ones make terrible choices and behave in awful ways, they are still loved.  Nothing can change that.  Love does not have to be earned, but is freely given.

It has been 102 years since the Chicago Cubs have won the World Series.  102 years.  People have been born, lived good long lives, and died with the Cubs never winning the championship.  With spring training beginning soon, we already know that the Cubs really don’t have a prayer, yet Cub fans are nevertheless devoted to the team.  In the sports world, that is as close to unconditional love as we may find.

The love Paul speaks of is not even conditioned on time: it never ends.  I think of those whose lives on this earth have passed, but whose loving ways made a profound impact on the lives of others.  In those who are left behind, that love continues and is passed on to yet others.

And I think too of the eternal nature of love.  The Bible says that God is love, and as we move on to eternal life in God’s presence, the love we know does not end.  ”O love that will not let me go,” we sing.

Newspapers a number of years ago carried the story of a reporter covering the war in Sarajevo.  It happened that a little girl walking on the street right in front of him was severely wounded by sniper fire.  Before the reporter could react, a man had scooped up the little girl and pleaded with the reporter to drive them to the hospital.  Without hesitating, this reporter loaded them into the back of his car and began to drive.

After a minute or two, the man said urgently, “Please hurry, she is still alive!”  The reporter drove on.  A few minutes later, the man in the back seat said, “Hurry, please, my little girl is still breathing.”  The reporter sped on.  A few minutes later, the man said, “Please hurry, my little girl is still warm.”  Soon, they pulled up to the hospital, but the girl was pronounced dead.

The man and the reporter went into the restroom together to wash the child’s blood from their hands.  “Now comes the hardest part,” said the man.  “What is that?” asked the reporter.  “Now I have to go and find that little girl’s father and tell him she is gone.”

The reporter was stunned.  “But I thought you were the father!  I thought she was your child!”  The man replied, “Aren’t they all our children?” (Pulpit Resource, January-March 2001, p. 18.)

The love God gives is unconditional.  It not only loves regardless of the situation, it loves regardless of who is in need of that love.  It is a love that reaches out to all of humanity and understands that they are all our children; they are all our brothers and sisters.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote, “It is impossible to love Christ without loving others, and it is impossible to love others without moving closer to Christ.” 

And finally, Paul says that our love must exceed our knowledge.  “As for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.  For we know only in part.”

You know, living in a university community as we do, there is an awful lot of knowledge in this town.  There is more knowledge per capita than in most places. 

That is generally a good thing.  I am all for knowledge.  But knowledge alone is not enough.  This knowledge does not insulate us from the problems of life.  And the fact is, our knowledge is only partial.  None of us have it all figured out.  There are so many problems we face for which there are no easy answers and on which we need to proceed with great humility.  We need knowledge, to be sure, but we need love in even greater measure. 

Several years ago, someone threw a rock through a window of the Markovitz home in Newtown, Pennsylvania.  It was the third day of Hanukah and the Markovitzes are Jews.  The vandal reached into the broken window, grabbed the electric menorah inside, and smashed it to the ground.

The people in the neighborhood were jolted.  They were pained that a hate crime had taken place right in their neighborhood, and fearful that it foreshadowed greater violence.

One of the neighbors, a Christian woman named Maggie Alexander, decided to do something about it.  She visited other Christian friends and neighbors, explaining what they could do to help, to show support for the Markovitz family.  Within a few days, twenty-five Christian homes displayed brightly burning menorahs in their windows. 

The vandals never returned, and as the lights kept burning, barriers between people were broken down and love overcame hate, at least for a while.  One Christian neighbor said that the whole experience had changed her feeling toward those different from herself, and that she plans to put up a menorah next year. 

There are problems out there that defy easy answers, problems for which we do not have and cannot have enough knowledge to solve.  How do we deal with hate, with violence, with oppression, with prejudice?  How do we face problems for which there are few black and white answers but lots of gray area?  And what about all of those decisions and issues on which we may have vastly different opinions, honest differences? 

There are so many questions for which we have only partial answers at best.  Our lack of knowledge calls for an even greater measure of love.  We may not always have the answer, but we can always act in love.

“For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face.  Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.  And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.”                          

"Fishing With Fascination" - February 7, 2010

Texts: Luke 5:1-11, Isaiah 6:1-8

Everybody has a bad day now and then. We all do.  One afternoon, New York Yankees star Mickey Mantle went hitless and struck out three times in a row.  “When I got back to the clubhouse,” he remembered, “I just sat down on my stool and held my head in my hands, like I was going to start crying.  I heard someone come up to me, and it was little Tommy Berra, Yogi’s son, standing there next to me.  He tapped me on the knee, nice and soft, and I figured he was going to say something nice to me, like ‘You keep hanging in there” or something like that.  But all he did was look at me, and then he said in his little kid’s voice, ‘You stink.’”

We’ve all had days like that.  Simon didn’t play baseball, he was a fisherman.  But he was 0-for the day.  Along with his fishing partners, he had worked all night with nothing to show for it, not even that first fish.  If Simon is even slightly like us, he can’t be in a very good mood.

And then along comes Jesus.  But Jesus is not alone.  A crowd is following.  Jesus is becoming something of a celebrity and people want to be around him.  The scripture says that the crowd wanted to hear the Word of God.

Jesus asks Simon to take him out on the lake in boat.  So Simon takes him out far enough so that he has space to speak to the large crowd that had gathered on the shore.

After he had finished speaking, Jesus tells Simon to go out into the deep water and let down the nets for a catch.  Peter expressed some skepticism, saying, “Well Jesus, we’ve been here all day and haven’t caught a thing, but since you asked, I’ll do it,” and he does.

Clearly, all the details have not been reported.  Peter may have left his nets on the shore when he took Jesus out in the boat—remember, he was finished for the day and was cleaning his nets.  Perhaps he had to go back to shore before going out into the deep water.  Here is a possible scenario that fills in a few of the details:

Peter ties the boat on the shore and tells Jesus, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”  He goes to get the nets, but just then some other fishermen happen by.  Peter asks them what they think about Jesus’ request to fish in deep water, and a special committee meeting of the United Fishermen Local 235 was convened, right on the spot.  There was lively discussion.

“Everybody knows that fish feed in the shallows,” said one fisherman.  Going out into the deep water would be a real waste of time.”

“Besides that, we’ve been out here all day and haven’t caught a thing,” said another.  There is absolutely no way that you are going to catch anything now.”

“Look, the guy’s a carpenter!” said another fisherman.  “Do what you want, Peter, but there is no way in Sheol I would take advice from a carpenter, even if he is a pretty good preacher.  It’s insulting, is what it is.”

Another spoke up.  “Don’t you think there is a larger issue here?  The real issue is tradition.  This is not the way we fish.  We haven’t done it that way before.  It would be highly irregular.  We need to maintain our traditions.”

Then the Public Relations consultant for United Fishermen weighed in.  “Jesus is quite a media celebrity at the moment,” he said.  “It can’t hurt to be seen with him.  That was a great move, Peter, letting him speak from your boat and all.  But I would definitely draw the line on taking fishing advice from the guy.  When you let down your nets and come up empty, he’s likely to tell some parable about ‘the one who fisheth in deep water’ – you’ll wind up looking silly and everybody will laugh at those dumb fishermen.  It could be a public relations disaster.”

And so it went.  There were all kinds of reasons not to fish with Jesus.  Finally, James said, “Oh, lighten up, will ya?  Let’s humor the guy.  I like Jesus.  And John said, “I say it’s worth a shot.  Why not go for it?”

Simon was still a bit hesitant, but decided to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt.  “Sorry for the delay, I ran into some friends of mine, “ he said to Jesus.  He put out into the deep water, and James and John followed in their boat.

Peter let down the nets, and what happened was the biggest surprise of his life.  (Well, up to that point, anyway.)  There were so many fish, he couldn’t pull the nets in.  There were so many fish, the nets were tearing.  There were so many fish, both boats could not hold them all.

Simon was caught up in this incredible, unbelievable, miraculous catch, but then he stopped.  It hit him what had happened.  It hit him who Jesus was.  The words Jesus had spoken to the crowd came back to him.

Peter fell to his knees, there in the boat, and said, “Get away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”  But Jesus said, “Do not be afraid.  From now on, you will be catching people.”

Why Simon’s fearful response? 

The fears he had before going into the deep water now seemed like small potatoes.  He had been afraid of failure, afraid of wasting time, afraid of being in the spotlight, afraid of coming off not looking so good.

But now, everything had changed.  Having seen the power and goodness of God, Peter understood his own finitude, his own sin.  “Get away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

At worship in the temple, Isaiah receives a stunning vision of God’s glory.  And what is his reaction?  It is exactly the same as Simon’s.  “Woe is me!  I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lip, and I live among a people of unclean lips.”

“Get away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  What was Simon afraid of?  For one thing, he was afraid of being found out.  He was afraid of having his sin revealed, if only to himself.

There was more.  Simon was initially unsure about honoring Jesus’ request to go into the deep water because he feared failure.  But maybe the only thing scarier than failure is success.  If such things were possible with Jesus…where would it lead?  Things would change.  Life would be different.  Was Simon up to it?  Was he qualified, was he worthy?  In some ways, familiar failure can be easier than life-changing success.

Simon was afraid because the way he had conceived of the world was obviously not exactly the way it really was.

After a day of striking out, you don’t just throw the nets into deep water and pull up a boatful of fish.    What could this mean?  Like most of us, Peter liked to think that he understood the way things worked.  But all that was shattered, as something impossible, something miraculous, had taken place.

Jesus said, “Do not be afraid, from now on you will be catching people.”  I’m not sure Jesus’ words relieved Simon’s fears.  In fact, rather than lessening Simon’s anxiety, Jesus may have just added to it.  “Catching people?”

Jesus was calling for Simon to follow.  He was calling for commitment.  He was calling for change.  And this was scary.

In a sense, when Simon expresses fearfulness he is asking Jesus to take the mystery of God away from him and return his certainties.  But instead, Jesus invites him to leave behind all his certainties and follow.  And the scripture says, “They left everything to follow Jesus.”

That is a short little verse – it seems to be a minor part of the story.  There is no elaboration.  “They left everything to follow Jesus.”  But that is really the story.  This is the call of the first disciples in Luke’s gospel.  James and John and Simon and presumably Simon’s brother Andrew, who is not mentioned here, leave everything to follow Jesus.

When you have just had far and away the largest catch of fish you have had in your lifetime, that is a lot to walk away from.  If I had been Simon, I would have been tempted to say, “Sounds great, Jesus.  I’d love to join you!  First we need to go and sell this fish, there’s so much we’ll probably need to pickle some, and we really need the money.”  I would have been tempted to try and take care of a few things first.

But that is not what happened.  The experience was so life-changing that Simon and his friends leave everything and immediately follow Jesus. 

Simon Peter, as he comes to be called, leaves everything behind, including his certainties about the way life works.  And as he followed Jesus, he had to leave his certainties behind again and again: the certainty that God’s Messiah would not have to suffer, the certainty that he himself would be loyal to Jesus through whatever came, the certainty that dead was dead, the certainty that the gospel was just for the Jews.

This is not really a fishing story; it is a call story.  Simon is called to follow Jesus, called to be a fisher of people.  And this is our calling.  We are called to reach out to others with God’s love.

I remember a little song we sang in Sunbeams, back in 1st grade or so.  “I will make you fishers of men, fishers of men, fishers of men.  I will make you fishers of men if you follow me.”  (We didn’t know about inclusive language back then.)

It was a fun and happy little song that we sang, but as grown-ups, if we take this seriously, it can be very scary.  And I guess I may as well just say it out loud – this invites us to think about evangelism. 

Just to mention the word “evangelism” can scare us.  It is a word that has been kind of sullied by abuse over the years.  Yet Jesus calls us to share the Good News, and just because it has been done manipulatively and irresponsibly over the years is not a good reason to ignore Jesus’ call.

The word “evangelism” simply means, literally, “sharing the good news.”  The reason we don’t want to have much to do with it is because so often, it hasn’t sounded like Good News, it’s sounded like bad news, judgmental news, scary news, exclusive news.

A book that came out in the last year with the title UnChristian.  It reports on a survey of 16-29 years olds who were not religious, asking their impression of Christians.  The top responses were that Christians are antigay, hypocritical, judgmental, and too tied to politics.  For a lot of people, Christianity comes across as anything but good news.

These negative impressions did not just come from out of the blue.  If the only thing you knew about American religion came from news stories, your impression would be pretty negative too.  Those who get the attention are so often the ones who are peddling a Bad News kind of Christianity.  But this is even more incentive for us to authentically share the Good News of Jesus Christ.

Now to be honest, I’m not sure fishing is the best metaphor to use for talking about sharing the Good News in our culture.  Jesus was speaking to a bunch of fishermen, but not everybody fishes.  I’m not much of a fisherman myself.  A couple of years ago at Green Lake, I went fishing with Aiddy and Elijah.  We were out in a row boat and both of them had caught a couple of fish already, just little bluegill.  But they didn’t want to head for the shore until I had at least caught one fish.  Elijah, who was five years old at the time, said, “Come on Dave.  You can do it.”  I would almost as soon he had said what that kid said to Mickey Mantle.  I finally caught a fish so we could quit.

Anyway, not everyone fishes and the image of hooking someone and reeling them in doesn’t fit real well with the idea of loving and caring for the person.  The analogy breaks down at some point – I mean, we’re not trying to eat them for lunch.  But as long as we are kind of stuck with this image, we might think about the kind of lures we use.  I heard Shane Claiborne speak recently – he leads a community called The Simple Way, a group that lives and serves in the poorest area of Philadelphia, a very interesting guy with a great story.  Claiborne bemoans the way Christians have so often spoken in our culture and acted in the public square.  He says that the gospel is best spread not by force but by fascination.

That is what Jesus did.  Jesus told great stories.  He acted in selfless, compassionate ways that made people wonder about him.  Folks came to hear him because the way he talked about life and the way he related to God were different – and authentic.  People were genuinely interested in what he had to offer.  Simon did not follow Jesus because he was scared into it or cajoled into it or because he was obligated.  He followed because he was intrigued. 

Maybe you have seen those beer commercials for Dos Equis, with “the most interesting man in the world.”  I think Jesus could really lay claim to that title.  People followed him not because they were harangued or shamed or nagged or criticized or bullied, but because they were deeply interested.

What if we exhibited such care and compassion that folks started to wonder about us?  What if we reached out to people with such genuine interest in them as individuals that they sat up and took notice?  What if folks experienced Christians not as hypocritical or judgmental, but as a breath of fresh air?  What if we came across not as having all the answers but being open to the questions?  What if we didn’t offer shallow comments but instead invited people to think deeply?   What if we came across not as having it all together but as struggling like the next person, but wrapped up in the grace of God and the care of the community as we struggle?   

I’ve got to believe that if we let down our nets like that, we’ll get more than a couple bluegill.  May we fish for people using not fear nor force, but fascination.  Amen.