Approaching God

APPROACHING GOD

2 Kings 5:1-14, Mark 1:40-44

February 12, 2012

Hope United Methodist Church

Both of this morning's stories begin with the weak approaching the strong Naaman of Aram enjoyed great power and all it's accoutrements He was a powerful general; in America he would have received a ticker tape parade down 5^th Avenue. He was on a first name basis with the King and all the lord high officials and mucky mucks of his nation. And yet, it was a lowly slave girl who, at great personal risk, approached her mistress with the outrageous suggestion that a Syrian prophet might be able to cure his leprosy.

As befits one of great power, Naaman went to the King of Aram and asked permission to go see the prophet. The king of Aram gave him a letter of introduction and sent him off not to the Syrian countryside, but to Jerusalem, to see the king of Israel. Powerful people deal with other powerful people, not with the commoners. He presented the letter from the king of Aram, a letter that demanded, not requested that he cure Naaman's leprosy.

The leper who approached Jesus was at the bottom of his society—indeed, he wasn't even accepted as a member of society. As a result of his disease he was unclean, outcast, a non-person. And yet, violating the rules that required him to avoid “clean” people, he came right up to Jesus and knelt in front of him, pleading for mercy. "If you want to," he said, "you can make me clean." The man with nothing to loose recognizes in his brokenness and need that Jesus is the embodiment of God's coming kingdom.

Elisha, hearing of Naaman's arrival, sent a message to the king: “Quit worrying. Send Naaman to me, I'll take care of it.” (2Ki 5:9) So Naaman went with his horses and chariot and the accoutrements of his position. He stopped in front of Elisha's house, and, as befit a man of his status, waited for Elisha to come to him. But Elisha never showed. Instead, he sent out his servant who instructed Naaman to bathe in the Jordan river. And how does Naaman respond? He throws a temper tantrum. Like a two year old who didn't get his way, Naaman stomps away; angry that he wasn't treated with the deference due a person of his standing, and unhealed.

Jesus looks at the leper before him and saw not a diseased outcast who had come close enough to put his own cleanliness is at risk, but simply another human being in pain. Our lesson this morning says Jesus looked at the leper with compassion. The word used in Mark's text is better translated “anger” or “rage.” Rage not at the leper for violating all the rules, but rage at what the disease had done to him. Rage at how he had been isolated and abandoned by society. Rage at the disease that ate away not only at his body, but at his soul, his humanity, his very being. And in touching him Jesus not only healed the disease, but restored humanity. In touching the leper, Jesus dealt not only with the leprosy, but with the more debilitating condition of loneliness. Jesus restored the man not only to health, but to the community.

For Naaman, powerful, respected and still unhealed, it is, again, one of the weak who come to his aid. Seeing his master's anger, one of his servants points out: (2Ki 5:13) "Sir, if the prophet had told you to do something difficult, you would have done it. So why don't you do what he said? Go wash and be cured." It was only when Naaman looked beyond the kingdoms of this world to the topsy-turvy kingdom of God that turns earthly things on end, that he was able to follow Elisha's command and gain healing.

Like Naaman, too often we expect God to do what we want, when we want and how we want, and when God's response doesn't meet our preconceived notions, we set it aside. We expect God to ask the difficult of us, and we are ready to respond. Climb a mountain? Swim a wild, raging river? Go to Africa? Land at shell-pocked airports? Face Malaria, Aids, and drunken border guards who want my boots? I'm ready! Who needs to pack? Let's go! But when the task is simple we revolt. What? Bathe in the Jordan river? Come forward for prayers of healing? Lead a Bible Study? Invite my neighbor to church? No way!

There is, of course, one simple command we are very good at following. It's the command Jesus gave the leper: “Don't tell anyone about this.” Like the healed Naaman who boldly declared: “Now I know there is no god but the God of Israel, the Christ-healed leper couldn't restrain himself, and told everyone he saw what had happened. In fact, his healing became so well known that Jesus could no longer enter the towns without being mobbed. So, in a way that precurses the cross, where he took on all the sins of the world, Jesus took on this man's isolation.

How are you responding to God's call? Are you waiting for God to call you to what you want to be called to? Or are you open to what God wants to call you to? God's call isn't always what we want to do, but, with God's help it is always what we can do. The question is not are we able? The question is, are we willing? “If you choose,” says the leper, “You can make me clean.” And, reaching out to touch him, and us, Jesus says: “I so choose.”

Do you choose? Do you choose healing and community over illness and isolation? Do you serve service and giving over power and receiving? Do you choose a life in Christ over a life in the world? Do you choose wholeness over being only partially alive? The choice is yours. AMEN.

Investing in Now.

INVESTING IN NOW

Jeremiah 29:1-7

Feb. 5, 2012

Hope UMC

For the last 81/2 years or so I have spent at least a part of most Sunday mornings in this place, and a part of most of those mornings with most of you. I am glad for that. I enjoy being here, hearing and participating in that old old story in a familiar time and place and surrounded by folks I know and love and who know and (I think) love me. Together we say “Yes.” “Yes, this is true.” “Yes, this I believe.” “Yes, I'm going to try to embody this in my own life.” Together we say to one another “In the name of Christ, you are forgiven.” And together we go out into the world to lead our own, separate, but joined, lives. It''s a familiar routine made all the more comfortable by its familiarity.

But what happens when the familiar is no more? What happens when the rug of familiarity is jerked out from under us? What happens when we find ourselves strangers in a strange land?

We too often view the writings of the Old Testament prophets as if they were some kind of divinely inspired fortune-tellers gazing into a crystal ball and revealing either the coming exile or the coming messiah. We don't see them as writing to folks in the here and now. But that's just what Jeremiah is doing in this mornings lesson. The Babylonians have come down from the north and conquered Judah. In 587 BC they hauled the religious, political, and economic leaders of Judah back to Babylon. In spite of the way we often think, not everyone was deported—only the leaders; only those who could effectively foster a rebellion. They hauled these folks off together with their families intact. They were taken away from their temple, their friends, their homes, the graves of their ancestors, everything that was familiar and comfortable to them. Now they found themselves in a strange land, where people spoke a strange language, ate strange foods, and practiced strange customs.

Imagine how they must have felt. Psalm 137 captures their dismay. (Psa 137:1) “Beside the rivers of Babylon we thought about Jerusalem, and we sat down and cried.

(Psa 137:3) Our enemies had brought us here as their prisoners, and now they wanted us to sing and entertain them. They insulted us and shouted, "Sing about Zion!"

(Psa 137:4) Here in a foreign land, how can we sing about the LORD?” We can almost hear them saying to one another: “Who ever heard of singing prisoners?” “Why should we build anything? This isn't our home/” “Why marry, why have children in this foreign place? Why plant, or build, or make anything? Why help the people who are our enemies?” In the musical Godspell, one of the song includes the lyrics: “On the willows there, we hung up our lives.”

It was a sad and depressing time for the transplanted Israelites. Of course they hoped their captivity would be short-lived, and I'm sure there were plenty of self-appointed prophets willing to tell the people what they wanted to hear—there always are: especially in an election year.

Jeremiah was not among such prognosticators. Rather than tell them what they wanted to hear, he didn't pull any punches. “You're gonna be here for the long haul—70 years. So this is what God says,” he wrote from Jerusalem where he had been left behind. "Build houses and make yourselves at home. "Put in gardens and eat what grows in that country. 6"Marry and have children. Encourage your children to marry and have children so that you'll thrive in that country and not waste away. 7"Make yourselves at home there and work for the country's welfare.” And perhaps the craziest command of all: "Pray for Babylon's well-being. If things go well for Babylon, things will go well for you.”

Seek the peace and prosperity of Babylon. Work, build, become part of the nation. Invest in a place you will never posses. 8-9 “Yes. Believe it or not, this is the Message from God-of-the-Angel-Armies, Israel's God: "Don't let all those so-called preachers and know-it-alls who are all over the place there take you in with their lies. Don't pay any attention to the fantasies they keep coming up with to please you. They're a bunch of liars preaching lies—and claiming I sent them! I never sent them, believe me."

Invest in now. That's what Jeremiah says. Even if now is not the now you want it to be, invest in it anyway—build what you will never posses, give of your time, your talent, your abilities even though you'll never completely own the place. This strategy of investing in the now is as valid and important today as it was 2600 years ago.

There are some here today who have an idea of what it must have been like for the Israelites. This is not the church they grew up in. this is not the place they were married, the place they buried their loved ones, the place where their faith was formed. It may be familiar, but it isn't home. Jeremiah says to them: “build, work, invest, and pray for this community.”

There are some here who say: “I'm tired. I've done my share. 20 years I taught Sunday School! Eight years I led Vacation Bible School! I ran 27 rummage sales and only the Lord knows how many chicken dinners I cooked. “I've done my share. Jeremiah responds. “Build, work, invest, and pray for this community.

There are some who wonder what this congregation will be like come July. What will the new pastor be like? Will she want to change things? Will he each like pastor Dann? Will they want to live in the parsonage? Will they have children? Will they be active in the community? Jeremiah says: “Build, work, invest, and pray for this community.

No matter how much we may think differently, this is not our church. We do not own it. We can never own it. The church belongs to God and to God alone. Remember that. And remember, even when you are feeling like this is home, it isn't. You and I are simply enjoying a gift from the giver of all good things. All the things we think make us happy aren't really it at all. The beauty of the sanctuary? It's not God. It's good, and it is beautiful, but it's not God. The friendly familiar faces—a reflection of God, the image of God, but not God. Those decisions of which you took ownership? They are God's decisions. So if you feel your life changing, if you are feeling a new peace in your soul, if you find your faith suddenly more relevant, it isn't the sanctuary, it isn't the preacher, it isn't the music. It's the work of God through His Holy Spirit, finding you, reaching out to you, touching you, and restoring you. And that same touching, restoring, giving God has prepared this feast for us. A simple meal, and yet a banquet that defies description. The table is set. Come, share, give thanks and rejoice! AMEN.

If Mary said "No."

Luke 1:26-38
Hope UMC
Dec. 18, 2011  Advent 4

This morning we sang, rather than listened to the gospel lesson. It's a story we all know well, and I hope, that as you sang, you also heard this familiar story in a new way, and, perhaps, even heard something you hadn't heard before. A month after Zechariah lost his ability to speak, the angel Gabriel pays a call on Mary, a virgin engaged to Joseph, a descendent of King David. The angel tells her that she is truly blessed and will have a son.

“Hold on a minute!” says Mary. “I can't be doing that. I'm still a virgin.”

“Nothing is impossible with God” the angel tells her. (Luk 1:35) "The Holy Spirit will come down to you, and God's power will come over you. So your child will be called the holy Son of God.”

And, of course, Mary says: "I am the Lord's servant! Let it happen as you have said." It's the answer we've heard all our lives. It's the answer we expect to hear. It's the only answer Mary could have given. Or is it? What if it had been different? What if Mary had said: “No way! I'm not risking my marriage, my future, my life! Not for you! Not for anyone!”

We don't think of Mary as having a chance to decline, but she did. God always gives us the option to say “yes” or “no.” Eve could have said “yes” to God and “no” to the serpent. Adam could have said “no” to Eve, and yes to God. Abram could easily have stayed in Haran. Moses (Exo 3:11) said, "Who am I to go to the king and lead your people out of Egypt?" “What if no one believes me?” 'I'm not a good speaker.” All in an attempt to say “no.” The Scribes and Pharisees said 'No” to Jesus, as did The rich young ruler. When God told Ananias to cure Saul's blindness, (Act 9:13) Ananias replied, "Lord, a lot of people have told me about the terrible things this man has done to your followers in Jerusalem. (Act 9:14) Now the chief priests have given him the power to come here and arrest anyone who worships in your name."

(Act 9:15) The Lord said to Ananias, "Go! I have chosen him to tell foreigners, kings, and the people of Israel about me.” For many years I said “no” to the ordained ministry. God gives us the opportunity to say “no.” It is, ultimately, our decision to follow or stand back.

So what if Mary had said “no?” Paul tells us that (Gal 4:4)when the time was right, God sent his Son, and a woman gave birth to him.” So it's possible that if Mary had said “No” we might be singing:

What child is this, who laid to rest,

on Cynthia's lap is sleeping.

We can say “No.” But, like Abram, Moses, and Ananias, (Luk 1:38) Mary said, "I am the Lord's servant! Let it happen as you have said.

The Bible is full of stories of impossibilities, and this, too, is a story of biblical impossibilities. But, what about the impossibilities in our world? What in your life, is “impossible? Peace in our world. Impossible! No way! Won’t happen! True justice for all? Impossible! Never happen. A cure for Malaria? Keep dreaming. Our church reaching our surrounding community and making our world different? Impossible! Restoring relationships, healing past hurts in our lives. A relative or friend entering a relationship with Christ. Breaking an addiction and overcoming past hurts and disappointments? Impossible!

The truth is God expected, and God received a “yes” from Mary. When God calls us, Like Mary, we say to the angel: “How can this be?” Like Mary we find ourselves pondering and wondering over the impossible. But as with Mary, God expects us to answer “yes.” So maybe the question isn't so much “What if Mary had said “no” as it is “What happens now that Mary said “Yes?” The real question for today is “How can the impossible become possible?” C. .S Lewis wrote that “God seems to do nothing of Himself which He can possibly delegate to His creatures. He commands us to do slowly and blunderingly what He could do perfectly and in the twinkling of an eye.” So, like Mary saying yes to the angle, the first step in overcoming impossibilities is for us to say “Yes” to God. For with God all things are possible, but nothing is possible without God.

In his book, Just As I Am, Billy Graham tells this story.

"One summer while in New Jersey, I was having lunch at a roadside diner when I was greeted by a big, smiling man whose eyes grew large as he studied me. “Hallelujah!” he shouted, grabbing and pumping my hand. “What an answer to prayer! I was just sitting here praying that I might meet Billy Graham, and in you walk! I didn’t even know you were on the East Coast.” He introduced himself as Dr. Theodore Elsner, a preacher from Philadelphia. “I have a great burden on my heart,” he said. “It’s a message that I believe is from the Lord. Billy, you must go on national radio. You know Dr. Maier the great Lutheran theologian and radio preacher from St. Louis is dead, and you’re the man God could use to touch America through radio.” I did not know what to think. Dr. Elsner urged me to contact Fred Dienert, his son-in-law, and Walter Bennett, a Christian who was also a radio agent. Impressed though I was by this abrupt meeting, I did not look up either Mr. Dienert or Mr. Bennett; indeed, I pretty much forgot the whole idea. I was so busy that I could not imagine adding anything else to my plate. A few weeks later I was speaking at a conference in Michigan. Two well-dressed strangers approached me and introduced themselves as Fred Dienert and Water Bennett. I did not know whether Dr. Elsner had spoken with them since he had met me, but their mission was to interest me in a national radio program. I was still president of Northwestern schools, still active with Youth For

Christ, and spinning in a whirlwind of national interest in our evangelistic Crusades. I told Fred and Walter that I appreciated their interest but simply could not do a radio program at the time. My closet advisers - Cliff, Bev, and Grady- concurred; it was out of the question. Later, in Portland, these two extremely persistent men repeatedly lay in ambush to catch me. All they wanted, they claimed, was five minutes of my time. I got so irritated with their pestering that sometimes I took a back elevator to avoid them. I finally told Grady to let them know I was not interested in their scheme to get me into broadcasting. Leave me alone was my message.

"As I came out of the hotel one night, continues Billy Graham, there they were. “We want to say good-bye,” one of them said. “We’re leaving tonight for Chicago.” “All right, fellows,” I said laughingly, “if before midnight tonight I should get $25,000 for the purpose of a radio broadcast, I’ll take that as an answer to prayer and be willing to do a national broadcast.” The thought was so incredible to them that they laughed along with me before heading for the airport.

More than 17,000 people were at the meeting that night. Just before introducing my friend Bob Pierce for a brief report on his travels in the Far East, I told them about the burden Walter and Fred had for broadcasting the Gospel, and the $25,000 condition I had laid down. The audience joined in my laugh. After Bob spoke, I preached and then extended the Invitation to receive Christ. Afterward, in the little room set aside for me in the tabernacle, a number of people dropped by to greet me. Several of them said they believed God had spoken to them during the service about helping us go on national radio. They began to leave cash, checks, and pledges. I couldn’t believe it.!

“Billy,” said Frank Phillips when everybody had left, “people have given us $24,000 tonight for radio!” Their confidence and generosity were enough to make me weep. But how could this be God’s answer? It was $1000 short. I told Grady, Cliff, Ruth, and Frank that maybe the Devil could give us that much to mislead us. We agreed to say nothing to anyone else about the funds and went out to eat, which was our custom after the service. We got back to the hotel about eleven-thirty.

“There are two letters here for you, Mr. Graham,” said the desk clerk. Postmarked two days earlier, they were from people I hardly knew- businessmen Howard Butt and Bill Mead. Both said they believed we should go on radio and that they wanted to be the first to contribute. And each enclosed a $500 check! Stunned, I bowed my head and said a silent prayer. Emotion so overcame me that I could not think straight. Clearly, the funds had come form God.

Then, when I turned to go to the elevator, who should be standing in the lobby but Walter and Fred! They had been at the airport, they said, but something had told them not to get on the plane. I put my hands on a shoulder of each man. “Sign us up for radio for at least thirteen weeks,” I told them. “God has answered prayer. We have the $25,000. We’ll take this as a step of faith.”

That radio show, that was begun with $25,000 that Billy Graham never expected to see was The Hour of Decision.

It doesn't matter how impossible we think a task may be, there is nothing God cannot do. The cure for Malaria gets closer each day. Our troops are coming home from Iraq, and the nations of the middle east are clamoring for democracy and justice. A cure for Malaria is closer than ever as vaccines are tested and ways are being found to prevent mosquitoes from spreading the disease. The only thing preventing our church from reaching out to our neighborhoods and changing the world around us is our church. Hurt lives are being healed and relationships are being restored. AA and Celebrate Recovery are conquering alcoholism and addictions. The hungry are being fed and the lonely are finding friends. And through it all, The kingdom is growing as people reach out and embrace Christ.

There is nothing in your life that is impossible with God. No matter how many times you've said “no,” you can still say “yes.” Mary said “yes” and changed the world.  Jon  her and let your world changing “yes” ring loud and clear  AMEN.

Thoughts during Advent

Here it is the second Sunday of Advent, and what an Advent it is.  Occupiers protest corporate greed even as stock prices climb.  Merchants report the best Black Friday in several years.  TV, Radio, Print, and the Net keep up the standard encouragment to spend! spend! spend! and we seem anxious to comply.  Money we don't have is flying out of our wallets to prove to those who know we love them that we love them.  It's another "Green Christmas."  And somewhere beneath the piles of wrapping paper and tinsel, a baby waits to be born.  Somewhere beneath the blairing commercials and muzak carols a baby cries unheard.

It seems as if know one knows, or cares, whose birthday it is we celebrate.  But then, no one much cared 2000 years ago.  Only a few shepherds and some pagan priests showed up.  Even those who should have known, didn't: and when they found out they were afraid and tried to kill the child. It didn't work then, and it won't work now.  In spite of years of apathy and opposition, the faithful still hear the voice of the Christchild.  We hear it in every kind deed and generous act performed in His name.  We hear his laughter in every joyful carol and see his smile in every prayer.  The voice may be muted, but it has not been silenced!

Over the years I have struggled to see beyond the secular celebration of the winter equinox.  I have now learned to silence the commercial voices and blind myself to the mercantile merenaries.  And in the silence of my blindness I see and look forward to the new kingdom--to the day when our swords are beaten to plowshares and peace rules in our hearts and in our world.  May you share the vision. And may the Joy of Advent be yours.

Chaplain Dann 

For All the Saints

Last Tuesday, Nov. 1, the day after all hallows eve, was, and is, one of my favorite days in the church year: All Saints' Day.  All Saints' Day is the day when we Christians remember, recall, and give thanks for the saints who have gone before us; those who have helped mold us and make us the persons we are.

Let me be clear that when I use the term "saint" I am not speaking in the Roman Catholic sense of one who has been set apart by the church for their miraculous deeds and lives of piety and their service to the church.  I am speaking in the Pauline sense of saints as those who believe.  Paul writes to "the saints at Rome"...to "The saints in Ephesus, the faithful in Christ Jesus" and to "The Saints in Christ Jesus at Philippi."  These are the same saints who inhabit the lives of us all.

The saints in my life have to include my dear friend Don.  I met Don at that awkward time in life when one is no longer a child but not yet an adult--when one no longer lives with one's parents, but doesn't yet feel like a guest in their home.  For thirty years or more Don walked through  the trials and tribulations, the joys and celebrations that make up life; through loves lost and won, school, jobs, the birth of our children we laughed, cried and prayed together.  When I told him I was considering answering a call to ordained ministry he simply replied: "About time."  He was a rock to lean on and an ever willing ear to listen.  He was  a saint of my life.

Another saint who inhabits my life and my soul in Roger.  I met Roger shortly after what can only be described as a failure of pastoral care.  I was 18 or 19 and wrestling with the dichotomy of trying to be both a soldier and a Christian.  The pastor of the church I was attending closed down my inquiry by decreeing that I was to to my duty to my country.   The chaplains on base weren't any more help, they simply handed me the paper work to submit if I wanted to seek a discharge.

Roger, a pastor and the father of friend of mine, took a different tack.  He asked hard questions that demanded thoughtful answers; he assigned me readings from church fathers and current theologians and ethicists;  he called me to prayer and guided my inquiry--not with the purpose of influencing my decision, but simply to ascertain that I came by in  rightly.  To this day I don't know if he agreed with my decision or not--but he supported me, held me accountable, and showed me what pastoral care and counseling are really about.  He showed me how to pastor, and I pray that I have been half the pastor he was.

There have been, and are other saints still in my life, but All Saints' is about those who have gone before us and who wait to embrace us on the other side of the Divide.  There is not a day that goes by when I don't thank recall, remember, and rejoice in Don, Roger, and the other saints of my life.  Who are the saints who inhabit your life?  Have you thanked God for them today?

Be Blessed.
ChaplainDann

Ingredients

As I am learning to bake, I am also learning the importance of each ingredient.  While some ingredients can be substituted for, or even left out completely, doing so changes the final product.  A half teaspoon of cinnamon left out of a cookie recipe changes the taste of the cookies.  Too much or too little yeast and the bread doesn't rise properly.  Even something simple like using bread flour when all purpose flour is called for can make a differnce in the taste and texture of the finished product.

It's the same way in life.  While it is sometimes necessary to improvise and play McIver, things work better when we use the right part and the right tool for the job.  God created each of us with different abilities, talents, and interests so that the church will have all the tools it needs to do God's will.  In First Corinthians 12 Paul tells us: "we can each do different things. Yet the same God works in all of us and helps us in everything we do." 

I remember fairly early in my ministry, shortly after I became an Emergency Medical Tech, talking to a colleague who ran the local jail ministry.  "How do you do that?"  I said.  "My hair stands on end, my palms get sweaty, and my stomach churns just thinking about going into the jail."
"How can you go to a car wreck and deal with injured and bloody people?"  She replied.  "My hair stands on end, my palms get sweaty, and my stomach churns just thinking about what you do."  No one person has all the gifts, and we are called to use the gifts we have, not to try and be what we are not.

Each of us is a different ingredient in God's recipe.  Without each of us the recipe won't work right--and when we try to be what we are not, it never comes out right.  Be who you are.  Do what you are gifted to do.  Work with, not against, the other ingredients, and the recipe will turn out just as God intends.

Be blessed,
ChaplainDann

I am gaining a whole new perspective on those who have trouble parting with things.  As we downsize our way into retirement, there are many things to be given away, sold at garage sales, or just tossed.  For the most part it hasn't been too difficult.  I thought books would be hard, but culling out things I havn't read since school and things I will never read again has been easy.  So has furniture and such...then I came to that drawer full of old camp t-shirts.  All have been worn, some are ragged, some no longer fit--but disposing of them is hard.  Each t-shirt brings a flood of memories: faces of kids float by in my mind; young people coming to a new understanding of God and Christ; learning to pray for the first time;  the look on a youngster's face when he realized he could become a pastor AND a firefighter.  So many youngsters.  So many faces.  So many young lives touched and even changed.  How can I let go of that?

The truth is I won't let go.  I can't let go.   And it doesn't take a drawer full of t-shirts to hang on.  God has allowed me to touch those lives and let them move on, even while each one stays a part of me.  You see, not only did I touch their lives--they touched mine; and I will never be the same again.  The place my heart calls home includes Camp Sawtooth, Camp McCall, Lake Wallowa, Suttle Lake Camp, Camp Magruder and Camp Latgawa.  The people my heart calls family include the hundreds of children who shared a week at camp with me.  I give thanks for each of them.  And now that we have all-camp t-shirts, maybe I'll only need to keep one.

Blessings,
ChaplainDann