First Congregational Church of Los Angeles
July 5, 2015
Mark 2.21-22
Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem …
Can you be more than you are?
And so begins a new sermon series today …
A sermon series Dr. Colglazier and I will be working on for the next two months … we’re excited about the series and grateful to share with all of you in the Parables of Jesus.
Because parables are the way Jesus taught … and why did he teach this way?
Parables provoke, raise questions, startle us with unexpected images …
A dishonest steward who knows what he’s doing with money … a shepherd unwilling to lose even one sheep … a pearl merchant making a deal … a father who never gives up hope for a wayward son.
Parables offer a different way of thinking about the tried and the true … maybe the tried and the true can tell us more than we expect … maybe the tried and true ain’t so true anymore, and it’s time to try something new.
Which reminds me - last week, I put a dollar into a change machine, and nothing changed!
Shall we move on?
Today’s parable: new wine, new skins … a parable understood by everyone, growers and consumers alike … the last of the old, and soon the new … hip hip hooray, a new vintage comes our way.
And who knows, the new wine might surpass the old in flavor and quality!
Wine is one thing … but religion another …
Religion tends to settle down and settle in … hard and fast … decades worth, centuries worth … smells, bells and doodahs … this is the way it’s done because this is the way we’ve always done it, and by golly, no one’s gonna change our mind.
And here comes Jesus … pushing hard to make some changes … and lot of folks didn’t like it one bit.
Scribes question his “table manners” - eating with “sinners and tax collectors.”
People wonder about his fidelity to the rules of fasting.
Pharisees question his commitment to Sabbath restrictions.
The prim and the proper are offended by the woman who anoints his feet with her tears.
Jesus speaks to all of them of new times and new ways.
The old is good, but it’s time has passed.
Nothing lasts forever.
Several months ago, a Sunday morning, getting ready for church, I put my Bible on the trunk of the car, brought a bag of garbage to the trash bin … went back upstairs … returned a few moments later, walked around the front of the car, got in and drove off to church: you know what happened.
My Bible was gone.
A hour later, my wife and son followed my route to church, looking for it, but to no avail - it was gone. 25 years worth notes, cross-references and comments.
Gone!
Jesus my LORD.
I ordered a new Bible … and here it is … clean and fresh … and it feels great …
Would I have willingly set aside the old one?
I don’t know. Nostalgia and familiarity are powerful resistors to change.
Let me say that again: Nostalgia and familiarity are powerful resistors to change.
I miss that old Bible sometimes, just the thought of it - wondering where it is, what happened to it, but I’m glad the LORD took it from my hand … new wine, new skins.
On another note:
The Santa Monica Art Museum is moving out of Bergamot Station … the Executive Director said:
I want it to be very clear that we are not closing. We are moving. Our museum is all about agility and experimentation and being a collection of ideas, not being a permanent collection of art. Although this is not something we had planned, we realize we have to take the mission, vision and purpose to a next stage.”
Sometimes by choice, sometimes by chance, sometimes by necessity, the next stage … time doesn’t stand still … and God moves on … new wine, new skins.
As for Jesus, he’s no iconoclast … though he does overturn a few tables.
Jesus honors the traditions … and then plays with them.
Like Christoph on the organ, and Peter Fennema today.
Take what is, and play with it.
Bring out new insights.
Raise questions:
Maybe we can go this way.
Or that way.
Let’s see what happens.
Like a potter with clay.
An artist with paint.
A dancer with form and movement.
An actor with a script.
And Jesus with his stories.
“You have heard it said thus and so, but I say unto you, here’s another take on it.”
New wine, new skins.
Last year’s vintage is done.
It was good.
We drank it all.
The skins are depleted now.
And what we didn’t drink, turned to vinegar.
“Fear not,” says God.
Never ever, ever, ever, be afraid.
A new season is upon us.
Grape clusters hang heavy on the vine, ready for harvest.
God is never done with us.
And we are never done with God.
The nature of faith is dynamic … moving, shifting, dancing.
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.
The nature of faith prompts us to change:
Change of heart.
Change of mind.
And who doesn’t need a change of mind now and then?
Moses said, “I can’t do that,” and then changed his mind.
King David said, “I didn’t do anything wrong,” and then changed his mind.
Jesus said to God, “Get me outta here,” and then changed his mind.
Saul, on the Damascus Road, said, “I know everything about God,” and then God showed up in a bright light, and Saul changed his mind real fast, and God changed Saul’s name to Paul.
And in our time and place … changed minds have made for a better world … school desegregation, voting rights and lunch-counter integration, women’s ordination … and these days Marriage Equality and the Confederate Flag … changed minds, changed hearts … new wine, new skins …
Jerusalem, Jerusalem.
Can you be more than you are?
Some turned away and said, “No thank you.”
We’re satisfied with the way things are.
And, by the way, Mr. Jesus, don’t press your luck with us.
Others heard the invitation and said, “Of course, tell us more.”
Jesus said, “It won’t be easy, but it’ll be good.”
And people still said yes!
Peter, Andrew, James and John left their nets to follow him.
Mary and Martha opened their hearts and home to him.
Joanna and Susanna, women of means, provided for him.
Matthew set aside his stacks of coins to join him on the way.
One-by-one, two-by-two, they heard the call and followed him.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem …
Can you be more than you are?
New wine, new skins.
Because we’re not done with God.
And God isn’t done with us.
From the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock
To the First Congregational Church of Los Angeles.
You and me, right here, right now!
For this world, and for the glory of God.
What else can we do?
But follow Christ anew.
“Come and follow me,” says he.
I’ve places to go and people to see.
Lives to change and a world to set free.
New wine, new skins!
Dear People of God.
Are we ready?
I know that we are! Amen and Amen!
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