April 17, 2022, "The Tower Still Stands," Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena

 Isaiah 65.17-25; John 20.1-18

It’s been quite the week.

A little of this and a little of that.

A week of good things.

And even some sad things.

We’ve been on top of our game.

And we’ve been kicked around the block.

We knew what we were doing.

And we didn’t have a clue.

We were pleased and happy.

We were disappointed and ticked off.

We ran outta gas.

And a friend helped us.

It’s been quite the week … 

Holy Week we call it … and holiness means special, set aside, noteworthy; calls for our attention; God is holy, and holy smoke and holy mackerel - the smoke of incense rising to heaven, and fish eaten on Friday … 

Holy Week: a special week, a week that calls for our attention, a week that sums up, and gathers in, the ebb and flow of life, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

What a week it’s been.

 

Christ enters Jerusalem, the people shout their dreams … disappointment sets in, the crowds turn ugly … the powers that be grow uneasy … things get messy real quick.

Pilate takes charge … Jesus is just another political dissident, a trouble maker, one of the usual suspects; better to crucify him now, fast and furious, to show the world some Roman muscle. 

Religious people had their own ideas, too … protect the turf, keep things smooth, don’t upset the applecart … keep the Roman Empire happy … a deal had been worked out - no one liked it, yet everyone lived by it.

The power of Rome and the power of religion!

They got together that week, the infamous week we call holy.

Judas was willing to betray Jesus for thirty pieces of silver … Pilate was ready to sign the death warrant and wash his hands of the affair.

When political power, and religious domination, come together, we can be sure it’s going to end badly.

From the bloody crusades of the 11th Century to the Inquisition of the 15th Century … from the suppression of Galileo’s scientific work to the burning of witches in Salem … from England’s Oliver Cromwell to Governor George Wallace of Alabama, from Luther’s hatred of Jews to the horror of the Nazi Holocaust.

When hyper-religion and power-politics meet up in the public square, it ends badly - there is blood to be drawn and death to be had.

What a week it’s been.

But time moves on, and so does God … another week:

The Empty Tomb … the surprise of it all, the truth about God’s creation, and our place within it … 

The Empty Tomb shouts to the world: life prevails … love wins!

The Empty Tomb shouts to the world … don’t give up, don’t give in … cry your tears, and look for deliverance … like Mary Magdalene by the tomb, weeping her eyes out, wondering what has happened … alone in that quiet place.

The rest of the disciples scurry away to the safety of their homes … Mary stays the course; she’s willing to weep … she waits in the sorrow of a broken heart. 

All her life, she’s heard the message: Wait for the LORD! And that’s exactly what Mary does … she waits!

And then it happens … a rare and impossible gift … two angels in white … and finally … Jesus himself … 

The angels give Mary a chance to pour out her heart … isn’t that what angels do?

These angels offer no advice; they ask about her tears, and they listen.

Pastoral care at its best - no advice, no preaching, no scolding, no goals to be had - just a question, a question, about her tears, and then, the angels listen. 

A gift for anyone in distress … God’s angels listen to us, and we can be angels for one another: we ask how it is; then we listen … listen for as long as it takes … angels aren’t in a hurry. They listen to a broken heart.

Listen … and be Silent - two powerful words: spelled with the same letters … Listen … Silent … Silent … Listen.

Sometimes I come home with my own little pile of burdens, and say to Donna: “Don’t say anything; just listen to me.”

To listen to someone, we have to be silent.

To be silent, means we can listen.

Mary turns around … wonder why she turned?

Was she done pouring out her heart to the angels? 

Did she hear something? Sense something?

She turns … there’s Jesus.

She thinks it’s the gardener.

I love that moment of misunderstanding.

Jesus IS the gardener … all things through him created, the Word of God … the first Garden of Eden … the Garden of Gethsemane, the Garden Tomb … the final Garden, the Garden of the new heavens and the new earth … the river of life and the tree of life, for the healing of the nations.

Jesus IS the gardener … 

Creating … giving life … making all things new … then and there; here and now … making all things new … here in this place and in our time, our lives, our world .. right here in our midst … in this place, and all around the town.

People of Westminster - the Tower still stands … 

When I drive up Lake Avenue, there it is … shining bright against the mountains to the north … the Tower still stands.

Yes, it’s steel and stone, and it’s so much more.

It embodies the hopes and dreams of every soul that has ever lived … the hopes and dreams of everyone alive today … and all the children still to come … a reminder … a reminder … in our world there IS a place where tears are honored with a holy silence, a place of peace and hope, renewal; a place where truth is told, love given, mercy extended, humility practiced, justice pursued, … with a generous welcome to all.

Dear friends …

The Tower still stands … and Christ is Risen!

Hallelujah and Amen!

April 10, 2022, "Hope" Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena

 Psalm 118.19-29; Luke 19.28-40

Last week Sunday, it was all about Go!”

On your mark, get set, go!

To the future we go … to the work that needs to be done … to be faithful to the LORD, faithful to one another … no matter what the day might bring, or however the night should come … faithful to the LORD, and faithful to one another.

Today, Palm Sunday, we go … we go to the Mount of Olives in ancient Jerusalem, a place of promise and hope … a promise of deliverance, and a promise of God’s mighty presence.

What could go wrong?

But something did go wrong.

That jubilant crowd, shouting their praise and singing their joy, took a turn to the wrong side of the street, in just a few days … shouts of joy turned to cries for crucifixion … 

What went wrong?

As best as we can determine, the people of Jerusalem had long harbored a hope, a good hope, for sure, that God would set them free from the brutal, bloody, Roman Empire … an empire of steel and slavery …where all roads led to Rome, and on those roads, all the money, all the power, all the goods of that vast and terrible empire. 

The people longed for a new King David … to set things right, restore the kingdom, recapture the past, set the people free, from the bloody, brutal, Roman Empire.

The people were ready!

From Galilee comes Jesus, a preacher of wisdom and justice, a miracle worker … could he be the one? Could this be the moment? 

The people shouted and danced … laid down their cloaks to acknowledge his royalty, waved the palms of victory and triumph. 

It took but a few days for the people to realize that Jesus was of a different order, offering hope of a different kind … something deeper … the peace that passes all understanding.

The people were impatient, and who can blame them?

What they wanted, they wanted now … they wanted deliverance, they wanted fireworks, as John the Baptist had said:

Even now, says John, the axe is lying at the root of the tree; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

“Misplaced hope” I call it. Hope for something that couldn’t happen, something out of line with reality … hope that was more fantasy than faith.

All the hope in the world won’t add two more inches to my stature … I’m 5’ 8”, and that’s that … and so are you when it comes to height … though I may have some control over my width … but here’s the deal: I’m not overweight; I’m under height.

As my friend Howard says, “It is what it is!” 

Nothing can alter the reality of my mortality … though I may try, and should try, to live as well as I can!

Medicine and science and good habits can help, yet a time will come when I draw my last breath; I’ll be no more … I’ll sail away to the everlasting arms of God.

Hope has to be related to reality … 

We can, and we must, pray for peace in Ukraine … but the reality of the times, the twisted history of Russia and the West … WW1, WW2, the Cold War, and all the rest … we have to pray for miracles, but we also have to know the story, the realities, the history … and then pray for leaders of all nations who will choose the pathways of peace rather than the highways of hell.

We can, and we must, pray for miracles … but the reality of this world has to be kept in mind and heart, too … even Lazarus, raised from the dead, still had to die in the end. the little girl raised from her bed of death, still had to die in the end. Dust to dust, earth to earth, ashes to ashes is our reality … that’s a part of what Lent is, Ash Wednesday … our reality … and the love of God, the mercy of God, at work in our reality, at work in all things for the good of God’s creation, and the wellbeing of our souls.

I like to watch dystopian sci-fi movies - everything is falling apart … but always hope - the hope we have with one another, in community, bonds of friendship, loyalty, kindness and mercy - we’re gonna make it, because we’re doing this together. 

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never loose infinite hope” said Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Everyone of us here has prayed for our share of miracles … healing for a loved one, for ourselves, for the welfare of children and grandchildren … the restoration of a broken love … a better job, a better future … peace and safety in our communities. 

And pray we will, and pray we must.

But pray with care … mindfulness … knowing the difference between hope misplaced, and hope grounded in reality, grounded in God. The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.

God Almighty has woven hope into the fabric of time.

Hope strong, hope true, hope that cannot be swayed by time or circumstance; hope in the face of sorrow and setback … hope at midnight, and hope by the grave.

Hope endures, hope sings, hope dances, even when there’s no music.

Hope waits for the Monarch to break out of its chrysalis … hope takes time to talk with a child … hope plants a tree for another generation; hope gives someone a second chance, a third, even fourth chance, and seven times seventy … hope walks quietly with the sorrowful … hope holds a hand gently and tenderly … hope points to the bird in the sky and to a little flower growing in a sidewalk crack  … hope knows when to stay put, and when to get up and go … hope can laugh, and hope can cry … hope is the energy of God’s love at work in all things, the heart of God’s creation, and the very life of Jesus the everlasting Christ.

My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus' blood and righteousness

I dare not trust the sweetest frame

But wholly lean on Jesus' name

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand:

all other ground is sinking sand;

On Christ the solid Rock, I stand.

Hallelujah and Amen!

April 3, 2022, "Go!" Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena

 Isaiah 43.16-21; Philippians 3.1-16

Now it’s official, now it’s real.

As of Friday, April 1 (no fooling), I’ve become your Interim Minister … with joy and pleasure, I accept the task, and gladly promise each of you my very, very best.

It’s fitting and right that this Sunday, a Sunday of beginning, is also the end of my little three-part sermon series, “On Your Mark,” “Get Set,” “Go."

I’ve used the analogy of a race … runners emerge from the locker rooms, shake limbs, stretch muscles, lost in thought, when the announcement comes, “On Your Mark.”

We are the people, and these are the times.

There is no one else here, but you and me.

We’re the runners; this is the race.

It’s our moment.

Others have run the race before us.

Now it’s our turn - we’ll do our best, to push ahead to victory.

It’s the race of faith, which means we do this together … arm-in-arm, hand-in-hand … helping one another to run the race … no one crosses the finish line alone … we cross the finish line together.

Last week Sunday evening, Donna and I watched the Oscars … I was particularly touched by the sense of gratitude that marked most of - I suppose a result of the last two years of Covid … all the challenges, delays, restrictions, disappointments - everyone seemed profoundly grateful and deeply humbled, to stand before their peers with an Oscar in hand - acknowledging everyone who made this moment possible - it takes a village to raise a child … it takes an industry to make a movie.

On your mark, get set, go.

And where shall we go?

We go to the future.

None of us know what the future holds, and that’s scary, but the God we know in Christ Jesus our LORD has made it abundantly clear to us, that the future is ours … and God is clearing the way.

As your Interim Minister, it’s my task to work side-by-side with you, to review and consider everything that has led to this moment … the brightest moments, the unhappy setbacks … every bit of the journey - to be studied, pondered, questioned … where did we do it right? when might we have made better decisions? what do we need to do now?

Very importantly, we’ll examine our neighborhood - demographics - who’s moving in, who’s moving out? What are the schools like, and what are the challenges?

We will consider the powerful cultural changes that now shape our times.

I was ordained in 1970, the First Presbyterian church of Holland, Michigan … when the future of the Presbyterian Church was certain … I went to high school, college, seminary … and expected to serve the church my entire life … the church was here, and so was I, and so were my colleagues …  

In 1990, I became senior minster at a church in Livonia, Michigan, a Detroit suburb … the church was founded in 1951, in the rush of the post-WW2 era - when folks went to church in droves, by the millions, all over America.

The church grew to 2400 members in the late 60s, with a beautiful building, a fine staff, and an elevator … 

One of the former associate ministers of the church said to me, “Those were the days; we couldn’t stop people coming to church. The parking lot was jammed, the Sunday School overflowing … the coffers full; it felt good, and we thought we were great.” 

By 1990, it had declined to 1300 members, on the books at least. In reality, it was more like 500 members. Folks had moved, times had changed.

When Dr. Max Morrison was minister here, along with a huge staff and much excitement, folks got up Sunday mornings, put on their Sunday Best, and made their way to the church … here in Pasadena, and all across the land … 

But all was not sunshine and sugar … the Supreme Court and its landmark decision, Brown v. the Board of Education in 1954 … President Eisenhower sending troops to Little Rock in 1957. 

Westminster Presbyterian Church stands in favor of school integration, invites the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., to speak here in 1962 … and, in time, a thousand members walk out. A serious loss, no doubt.

But God looked upon Westminster and said, “Well done, good and faithful church. You chose the better part. You stood on the right side of history.”

In the 80s and 90s, evangelical churches had a go at it, with praise bands and megachurches, and for a time, they were on top of the heap, even as mainline churches continued to lose membership. Now, evangelicals are in the throes of it, too, torn apart by infighting, scandals, and young people simply moving away from the faith of their parents … 

As for religious affiliation in America, more and more simply check “none” … who knows the outcome?

Yet God makes it clear: There is always a way to be faithful, always a way to serve the LORD, always a way to bear witness to the world for the love of Christ.

We will never return to the heyday of the 50s and 60s … or to any other moment in time … the past is past - it’s gone; we learn from it, build upon it, and then we move on … we do what our forebears did in their time - they innovated, they invested, they took chances. 

Building this church was taking a chance. 

A chance on something new, a Tower on Lake Avenue.

God speaks through the Prophet Isaiah:

Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

In the months ahead, we will consider how best to serve the LORD in 2022 and 2023; how to bless this neighborhood, welcome everyone, engage in ministry, focus our priorities, care for our campus, revise and renew, and prepare the way … prepare the way for the next installed minister of Westminster Presbyterian Church.

To the glory of God, for the healing of the nations.

On your mark, Get set … Go!

Amen and Amen!

March 2 7, 2022, "Get Set" - Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena

Joshua 5.9-12; 2 Corinthians 5.16-21

On your mark.

Get set.

Go!

That’s how the race begins … 

We are the people … these are the times. 

It’s our race … our moment … no one else to run the race for us … others have run their race long before we born, and to all of them, a debt of gratitude.

From the vast beyond, they say to us:

Thank you; thank you for your gratitude; we’re glad you recognize what we did. 

We built something with stone and steel; we built it by the Spirit of God … we didn’t give up, we didn’t give in … by the mercies of God, and for the love of Christ, we raised this Tower to the glory of God - a beacon of love and hope.

We did it for you.

We did it for the world.

We appreciate your gratitude, but we want something more.

We want you to run your own race.

That’s the best gift you can to us. 

Gratitude, for sure, then your gumption.

Your determination - to run the race as well as you can.

Here we are dear friends.

We’re on the mark.

And now the announcement: “Get set!” …  

In our prayers and with our devotion.

In our meetings together and our plans.

In the strength of our bodies, as best we can.

And if the body isn’t what it used to be, then the courage of our soul. 

No greater tower can be crafted, than the tower of prayer.

From God’s call to Abraham and Sarah to the final trumpet of the Book of Revelation.

The race is set.

Always forward, always something new … not forgetting the past, but building upon it … denying the temptation to recreate the past, bring the past back - like Lot’s wife, who turned around to see from whence they had come; she turned into a pillar of salt. 

Nothing wrong with salt, but a pillar of salt ain’t going anywhere. 

It’s stuck in place and stuck in time. 

The challenge any of us face, when times are changing, when one era is ending, to know how to say “Farewell!”

“Farewell!” to what was, and welcome the new.

Even when we haven’t a clue what the new will be like, or where it’ll take us.

In our reading from Joshua:

The people are now, finally, in the Promised Land after 40 years of wandering in the Wilderness.

Moses did his work.

Moses confronted Pharaoh and demanded the release of his people.

Pharaoh said Yes, and then Pharaoh said No.

There was the crossing of the Sea, just in the nick of time.

Pharaoh and his army are washed away.

The people march through the sea - safe and sound.

A pillar of cloud to guide them during the day … a pillar of fire to give them light at night. Manna in the morning, and water from a rock.

Moses on the Mountain … Moses and the Ten Commandments. 

But when faced with the Promised Land, they fail to take it.

They’re afraid … Maybe we should go back to Egypt. It wasn’t so bad after all.”

The lure of the past.

The troubling trick of the mind -  when we trick ourselves about the past … we remember the best of it, and not all of it … “if only we could regain the past,” we think, “then we’d be happy.”

Churches succumb to this troubling trick of the mind … so do political parties, and entire nations, and folks just like you and me - when the past lays hold of the mind and imagination, it leaves no room for innovation, experimentation; fear takes over and the future dies.

That’s what happened to Israel, as they stood on the threshold of the Promised Land, the first time around. Their spies came back and said: There are giants in the land, and we can’t fight them. In their eyes, we’re as small as grasshoppers.

It was all “fake news” - the people rose up in anger at Moses and Aaron … better dead instead, they cried. Why is God doing this to us? Let us choose a captain who will take us back to Egypt.

So off to the Wilderness God sent them; forty years of wandering, until they could shake off yesterday's dust, set aside inaccurate memories, reject fake news, trust the LORD God Almighty, and get ready to try it again.

In our reading today, Joshua 5 - the second time around …  they crossed the Jordan, set up camp, just shy of Jericho. 

Joshua said: We’ve got some prep-work to do. Here and now. To get ready for the Promised Land.

Circumcision for one … the cut of the flesh to mark the body. To God we belong, in life and in death … God’s purpose is our pursuit.

The Lords says, “Today, I’ve rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.” The past is past … this is now … tomorrow stands before us.

And then the Passover Feast - to remember when the Angel of Death came to do its hard and terrible work - taking the first-born of all living things … but the Angel of Death passed over the homes marked with the blood of a lamb.

It’s a harsh and terrible business sometimes … 

To set the captives free.

To right the wrongs.

And clear the way.

To see a brand new day.

That day, the Children of Israel ate the produce of the land.

The manna was no more.

Forty years of wandering - behind them.

Ahead of them, the Promised Land.

Centuries later, the Apostle Paul says to his friends: If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away … everything has become new!

Paul says: in Christ, God was reconciling the world to God, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. So we are ambassadors for Christ.

The high and holy calling of God.

The past is behind us. The race is before us.

On your mark!

Get set!

Amen and Amen!

March 20, 2022, "On Your Mark!" Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena

Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena

Third Sunday in Lent

Isaiah 55.1-9; Luke 13.1-9 

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

In the name of all that is holy and good.

Everything, bright and beautiful.

All that we hope, and all that we hope to be.

I’m glad to be here, and I know that you are, too.

My name is Tom Eggebeen.

Pronounced like, “eggs and beans.”

It’s a Dutch name.

Someone asked me where I was twenty years ago.

I said, “I was getting ready for today.”

And that’s the truth.

I was getting ready for today.

I didn’t know it at the time.

But here I am, with a wealth of experience.

I’ve learned a lot over the years.

And so have you.

And together, we are the people, and these are times.

I’ll say that again: We are the people, and these are times.

For this moment, we were born.

And for this moment, we’ve all been getting ready.

In the mystery of God’s purpose - here we are.

No one else, just us.

Our stories, our hopes, our dreams.

Our broken hearts, our tears.

The good times, the hard times.

The whole package.

All that we are, and all that we hope to be.

Me and you, you and me.

Interim minister.

Westminster Presbyterian Church.

San Gabriel Presbytery.

The Presbyterian Church, USA.

And the whole wide world.

A new day?

Of course it’s a new day.

A chance to take a deep breath.

Collect our wits.

Review our story.

Give thanks.

Celebrate.

Look down the road a little bit.

Isaiah says it well: It’s time to buy some wine and milk, wine to gladden the heart, and milk to nourish the soul, and it won’t cost a cent.

Jesus knows full well that life is chancy, life can be hard … terrible things … things fall apart … but wait a minute, with a parable of hope: time is granted … we’ve got time, by the grace of God … yesterday doesn’t cancel today … today is a fresh start, and God is the one who waters the tree, and nourishes it … a tree called life, a tree called hope, a tree called beautiful … a tree called Westminster.

As I was giving thought to the sermon, and the next few weeks, looking at Scripture for these Sundays, thinking about Lent, the image of a foot race came to mind …

Runners emerge from the locker room, shake limbs, stretch muscles, gather thoughts, plan the run … move to the starting line … 

“On your mark!” comes the announcement … and to the line the runners go, kneel down, think … and then, “Get set” … into the stance at the line, on their hands, legs flexed to push off, adrenaline pumping … every thought focused on the moment … waiting … waiting … “Go!” … and off they go … with every fiber of their being … years of training … push, push, push, push ahead … until the race is run.

On your mark.

Get set.

Go.

Today, here we are.

Here’s the mark, this is the place, the race, the lane in which we run.

No where else for any of us.

No one else in our stead.

We’re the ones!

And this is the race!

I’m glad to be here with you.

To be running here in the race of faith.

It IS the race of FAITH … 

Which makes this race a bit different.

Here in this place, we help each other, we wait for one another, sometimes we lead, sometimes we follow ... we keep pace with one another ... we don't run too far ahead, and sometimes we wait for others to catch up.

Some years back, a funeral for a young lady with Down's syndrome ... she was kind, humorous, thoughtful ... with a ready smile ... cantankerous, sometimes, as any of us can be ... 

Notably … she was a slow walker ... her brother spoke as if he were speaking to her, "Karen, you were a gift to us, to our family, to everyone. You were a slow walker, and you slowed us all down, so we could see the world better. We couldn't rush when you were with us. We had to walk slowly. And for that, dear Karen, we’re grateful.”

The race of faith.

We run this race together ...

There’s a beautiful story told of a group of youngsters, with physical challenges, running a race, and off they went, each pushing for the finish line, but one of them fell, and they all stopped, returned to the fallen child, helped the child up, and together, holding hands, they walked across the finish line.

Just a story?

Perhaps … but what a story it is … the fellowship of faith, the Body of Christ, Westminster Presbyterian Church!

I'm Presbyterian enough to know that we're here for a purpose - not of our own devising.

God's devising …

To make a difference …

Life, life, and more life.

And for this life we run … we are the people, and these are the times. 

Can’t have any other way.

No one here, but us.

Right now, right here.

This is the race before us!

We shake our limbs, stretch our muscles.

And God says, “On your mark!”

Amen and Amen!