Sunday, January 15, 2017

"Immanuel" - January 15, 2017, Immanuel Presbyterian Church, Los Angeles

Isaiah 49.1-7;  Psalm 40.7-9; 1 Corinthians 1.1-3; John 1.29-31

Good Morning Immanuel.
And God’s Peace to you.
God’s love and mercy.
God’s goodness and grace.

The stuff of life.
That keeps us going.
No matter what.
No matter how hard the road becomes.

And sometimes the road is long and miserable.
Sometimes everything that can go wrong goes wrong.
It happens now and then.
Everything upside down.

A topsy turvy world, it can be.
And we’re not quite sure how to go.
Or what to do.
Or when and where it’ll end.

Such is life for all of us.
Sometimes grand and sometimes not.
Yet here we are.
In this place and time.

A time to worship and lift our voices.
To join in the chorus of God’s People throughout the ages.
If we listen, we can hear them:
Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel.

A chorus of faith.
A song of hope.
The vibrant sounds of creation.
The original moment of light breaking out.

The Spirit of God hovers over the primal waters.
When nothing was everything.
And everything was nothing.
Only the Spirit, like a dove, wings beating.

And there it came, in the night.
The light, bright and pure.
By Word of Mouth, a Word spoken.
Let there be light.

In the beginning was the Word.
And the Word was with God.
And the Word was God.
And there was light.

Plenty of light.
Lots of light.
Enough light to make things grow.
Light to lead the way.

Down through the ages.
People have believed … strange stuff, this believing stuff:
I believe in God the Father Almighty, 
Maker of Heaven and Earth.

And in Jesus Christ.
God’s only Son our LORD.
Conceived by the Holy Spirit.
Born of the Virgin Mary.

I believe in the Holy Spirit.
The Holy catholic church.
The Communion of Saints.
The resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.

Strange stuff, this believing stuff.
Because some stuff is dangerous.
Really, really dangerous.
Takes us to God …

And God sees to it that our life -
Is no longer our own.
God weaves our lives into the very life of the universe.
God sets the pace of our every step.

And we’re glad to be a part of God.
Glad to know the goodness of Christ.
And sometimes we’re not glad to be a part of God.
Sometimes the calling of God is more than we can bear.

Like Isaiah, the reluctant prophet.
A messenger of faith, hope and love.
That’s what we are.
We’re messengers.

Messengers of a good and godly word.
A transformative word.
A difficult word.
A word that speaks to the deepest places of life.

A word that creates and recreates.
A single word, a string of words.
Words to bless and words to inspire.

Sure, there are plenty of words that deconstruct.
Words that wreck and destroy, maim and malign.
Words that are lies, and lies that are words.
And we don’t know which is what, and what is which.

Because some liars are masters of their craft.
Clever in their deceptions.
Skilled in slander and fake news.
And people will be misled - by these masters of the lie.

Misled - all the way to disaster.
Because of clever lies.
Lies that glitter.
But are not gold.

So God calls Isaiah.
And God calls you and me.
Here and now.
For our time and day.

The message of faith, hope and love.
Grace, mercy and peace.
Christ born in a stable.
And crowned with thorns.

Baptized in the Jordan.
And crucified on a cross.
Dead and buried.
And three days later …

A stone rolled away.
Roman guards knocked senseless.
Women amazed.
Disciples bewildered.

And then the Spirit all over again.
Hovering over those uncertain disciples.
In an upper room.
Full of doubt and fear.

Flames danced upon their heads that day.
And they began to speak.
That strange and Holy Day of Pentecost.

And the people in Jerusalem.
They heard the word in their own tongue.
In their own language.
Words they could understand.
Words of faith, hope and love.

It made sense to them.
And many believed.
Though some thought to themselves:
These clowns are only drunk.

But drunk they were not.
Stone cold sober they were, on that great awakening day.
They spoke of faith and hope.
They made sense of things in a strange and uncertain time.

And these gospel words still makes sense today.
They always have.
And always will.
Because God is truth, and truth is love.

And love defeats the lies.
Love defends the poor
Love finds ways to get along.
And has no need for bluff and bluster.

But love does need justice.
Love needs truth.
Love cannot sit idly by when some want to take it all.
And the children go hungry.

So here we are in faith dear friends.
On the road we go.
The LORD ahead of us, with light and love.
Come follow me, says he … ever strong and ever good … his name, Immanuel.

Immanuel.
I love the name.
God with us.
That’s what it means.

Immanuel.
The very presence of God.
The God of light and love.
The God always with us.

I don’t know what the future holds.
But I know God holds the future.
And the arc of history bends toward justice.
Love prevails, love wins.

Sometimes the way ahead has to be the cross.
That we know.
And that we believe.
The love of God is forged in hard ways and hammered nails.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., 
so wisely noted:
The measure of man is not what he does in comfort, 
But when caught up in challenge and controversy.

Follow Christ?
How easily we throw that notion around.
As if it were a cakewalk.
And sometimes it IS easy.

But Jesus speaks of challenging times.
A cross to be carried.
A plow to be managed, and never, ever again, look back.
To follow Jesus - it can be hard, sometimes.

But hard or not.
What other way might there be?
Where else can we go?
To find such a lasting hope; the one John called, The Lamb of God?

If you’ve seen Rogue One.
You know the line.
“Revolutions are built upon hope.”
And there is no larger hope than Christ.

And no greater revolution than Christianity.
Sure, there are those who would tame Christianity.
Make it docile and quite.
A servant of the rich, or a tool for personal enhancement.

But Christ is the revolution.
The turner of tables and the disrupter of the status quo.
He speaks of love when others cry for hate.
He offers forgiveness when the proud call for judgment.

Christ is our hope and Christ is our peace.
Christ is our voice.
Christ is our revolution.
The way forward; the way to life.

Happy are those who make the LORD their trust.
Who do not turn to the proud.
Those who go after false gods.
And there’s plenty of that these days, dear friends.

False gods galore.
Noise and pride.
Mocking the disabled and damning the poor.
Folks so hungry for power they’ll do and say anything.

Nothing new with any of this.
So let’s not be surprised.
Let’s not be naive.
Let’s keep our eyes upon Christ, instead.

Stay the course and love one another.
Never give up.
Or turn away.
We shall remain engaged and determined.

To bear the cross of hope.
To carry the message of peace.
To challenge the powers that be.
And tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

So, help me God.
And that’s the anchor, isn’t it?
God helps us.
God sustains and God guides.

God with us: Immanuel.
The Christ of everlasting glory.

The Christ who refused the easy way out.
And choose the hard way in.
To serve the LORD God Almighty 
And to love the world to the end.

Immanuel: God with us.
Let it be so.
In word and deed.
Song and service.

Let the tower of this church point toward heaven.
To lift the human spirit.
To remind the discouraged and the downtrodden.
That life is worth the living, and the living is worth everything.

To remind the oppressor and the cruel.
That God moves in a mysterious way wonders to perform.
Justice will have the last word.
Goodness will triumph over evil.

Immanuel: God with us.
That’s our message.
And we are the messengers.

To the glory of God.
The transformation of our world.
The healing of the nations.
And the salvation of all nature.


Amen and Amen!

Monday, August 29, 2016

"Every Time We Open Our Doors" - August 28, 2106, First Congregational Church of Los Angeles

Matthew 11.28-30

Every time …
Every time we open our doors,
Something good happens … 
Every time we open our doors,
The world - a little bit better … 

The community around us … the city of Los Angeles … the nation and the world … 

Sound preaching.
Vibrant music.
A building, to lift the spirit and inspire our love … our love of God, and our love of the world.

For God so loves the world, the Bible says.
The whole wide world … all its creatures, great and small.
All its forms, and every shape:
From the snows of Mt. Everest to the evergreens of Oregon.
From the Salton Sea to the Bearing Straits.
You and me, brother.
You and me, sister.
And don’t forget:
The tadpole and the panda bear … 
The polar bear and the penguin.
The honey bee and the hummingbird …
The flowers of the field and the fish of the sea.

We’re all in this together … we belong to one another … a vast network of life … 

When I think of First Church, special words come to mind: big words, powerful words … words like purpose, mission, opportunity, responsibility … 

Words like:
Grace, mercy and peace.
Faith, hope and love.

Our banners out front … progressive, joyful, inclusive, creative …

All summed up in the highest of ideals - to be the church of Jesus Christ … the church consecrated … made new every day … by the power of the Holy Spirit … 

To be of God, so thoroughly, we can be of this world comfortably … to be of Christ, so completely, we can be of one another lovingly.

The holy fellowship of faith … 

At the very center of it all - one big question …

What is God like? 

It’s the only question worth our time as those who gather in places like this … it’s the central question, upon which all else depends … 

And it’s not easy to answer … 

Look at Christianity around the world and down the street, and you’ll find hundreds of answers, thousands of answers … a smorgasbord of answers … not to mention all the other religions and expressions of faith found in every land across the vast expanse of this good earth.

Can they all be right?
Are some of them wrong?

Right or wrong, or somewhere in between … it’s up to us to answer the question for ourselves … in this place and in this time … right here, right now … “What is God like?”

This is what churches do … for good or for ill … and sometimes it’s for ill … churches don’t always end up in good places … sometimes the answer to the question about the character of God leads to terrible places with tragic consequences.

The churches of Germany that signed on with National Socialism and Herr Hitler made horrible and hideous mistakes …  

For centuries, the Western Church thought slavery was a part of God’s natural order, that women, naturally weak and unstable, had no place other than in the home, that the landed gentry were God’s anointed, entitled to their elevated status … kings and queens ruled by divine right … there is heaven for people who toe the line, and hell for those who don’t.

The church doesn’t always end up in good places … but fear not, say the angels to us … 

Listen, pay attention, consider this and consider that …

Weigh everything against Christ ... always the Christ, from cradle to cross, from cross to resurrection  …

Jesus asked the disciples: What are folks saying about me? That’s the listening task - what do others say of God?

And when the disciples offered what they were hearing, Jesus then asks, What do YOU say about me? 

That’s our central task … here and now, the task of the church … someone else’s answer won’t do; it has to be our answer, our commitment, our decision.

Which reminds me … if you ask a Roman Catholic a question, they’re likely to answer, “Well, the Pope says….”
If you ask a Baptist, they might answer, “Well, the Bible says….”
If you ask a Congregationalist, they might say, “Well, in my opinion….”

Tradition, Scripture and “my opinion” … it’s all three … working together,  to shape our faith, ground our lives, empower our ethics, and point us, beyond ourselves, to the larger realms of love and peace.

What is God like?

Here’s some of my answer … is it the only answer, the right answer?

I’ve been working at it for a long time … it began in my childhood … sitting in church, going to Sunday School, laying in bed at night … a deep and abiding sense of God … never frightening, always there … a good and kindly presence.

Over the years of ministry … the coal fields of West Virginia, the rail yards of Altoona, the corporate offices of Pittsburgh, the lumber trade of northern Wisconsin, the Oil Patch of Oklahoma, the Auto Industry of Detroit, and now the sunshine of California … 

I’ve done my homework; I’ve had good teachers … yet, the question remains: how much do I know? 

I know enough to know how little I know.

But I cannot evade the question: What is God like? 

None of us can, and none of us should … and to remember, that every answer given is a provisional answer … I answered this question 50 years ago … and 30 years ago … and I’m trying to answer it right now … and it’s all slightly different … I’ve grown, I’ve learned, backtracked and turned, and moved ahead a wee bit I hope … a journey that never ends, and should I live another ten years, my answers will be different even then …

Here and now, in this good place, my answer, for what it’s worth, goes something like this:

God is good and gracious … bright and beautiful … big enough to hold the world in her hands, strong enough to take up the sins of the world … 

Tiny enough to fit into Mary’s womb, small enough to fit into Bethlehem’s cradle … just right to hang on a Roman Cross and then be tucked into a borrowed tomb … 

And best of all, sized just right to fit my heart … and I would dare say, sized just right to fit your heart, too.

When Jesus was baptized by John in the Jordan, the Spirit came upon him in the form of a dove … not a Roman Eagle of power, but a dove - the dove released by Noah, the dove that returned to the ark, with an olive leaf in its beak, to let Noah know that the worst of it was over … a new day dawning … creation anew … a world born, fresh from the flood.

When Jesus stepped out of the Jordan, a voice from heaven, This is my beloved son, listen to him.

And when I listen, this is what I hear … Come unto me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

This is God … God with us … the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; the God of Sarah, Rebekah and Rachel … the God of Exodus and Sinai … a pillar of cloud by day to provide shade from the burning sun; a pillar of fire by night to bring warmth to weary bones … and all along the way, water from a rock, and manna in the morning … the long journey, the long haul … from death to life, from darkness to light, from bondage to freedom … 

God, the Good Shepherd … God, the open door … God, the living water … the bread of life … the light of the world … the love that makes the world go round …

First Congregational Church, in a great city, be big … big-minded, big-hearted … big in faith and big in kindness …
Big like our city … big like God … big like love … 

And keep the doors open … wide open to all the world … and there’ll always be enough love left for even more … 

And in all of it, God … God in the morning, God in the evening and God all day long … the Great God Almighty who is everlasting, the fount of life, and the hope of the world.

Dear Friends … 

What a joy it’s been for me to walk and talk with you in the journey of faith … side by side with our pastors, Scott and Laura … our remarkable musicians, Jonathan and Christoph, and Stephen and our amazing singers … a staff second to none … Deacons and Trustees who know what they’re doing … a joyous Women’s Association … and all of you, talented and visionary … daring to walk through these doors, to keep them open to the world … to be sure that good things happen.

I’ll be on the road in September, but come October, I’ll be in the Eggebeen Pew, just over there, with Donna and our family … and don’t forget it, that’s the Eggebeen Pew!

I’ll continue doing weddings here … hanging around … because, as they say, old ministers never retire, they just misplace their sermon notes … 

And with prayer and love, I’ll encourage you, to keep on keepin’ on … to be the First Congregational Church of Los Angeles, with doors wide open.

Because every time we open our doors, something good happens!

Pause a beat or two as musicians take their place …

And, now, if I may …
A gift to the church …
From my heart to yours …


Rainbows … bluebirds … and a most wonderful world …