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Mercy Me

A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett July 11, 2010

THE GOSPEL WITNESS Luke 10:25-37

Our Gospel Witness this morning is one of the most famous parables of Jesus, the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Like the Parable of the Prodigal Son, the Parable of the Good Samaritan is found only in the Gospel of Luke.

In understanding this parable, it helps to know that the Levite in the parable is also a priest, a lower-order priest. The Levites assist the priests and serve the congregation. But only the priests may sacrifice animals on the altar and care for the vessels of the sanctuary.

Samaritans were out of the priestly picture altogether. Both Jews and Samaritans followed practices and beliefs of Judaism, but the Jews were centered on the temple in Jerusalem, and the Samaritans were centered on Mt. Gerizim in the north. There were deep, historical divisions between the two groups. Jews considered Samaritans ritually unclean, and therefore, unfit to worship in the Temple.

SERMON

The Parable of the Good Samaritan may be mis-named. One of the Bible commentaries that I read suggests that while the Samaritan is clearly “good,” a better, more specific adjective describing the Samaritan is “merciful.”

We would then know this story as “The Parable of the Merciful Samaritan.” After all, the priest and Levite in the parable may also have been good people. They probably were not bad people, in any case. Yet they were not merciful people, not merciful to the injured traveler. Priest and Levite passed by on the other side of the road, putting as great a distance between the injured man and themselves as possible.

That “mercy” is the key to understanding the Parable of the Good Samaritan is made clear by the lawyer who is testing Jesus. After telling the parable, Jesus tests the lawyer, asking him, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The lawyer responds, “The one who showed him mercy.”

Another commentary points out that the lawyer’s response to Jesus further demonstrates the gulf between Jews and Samaritans. In answering Jesus’ question, “who was a neighbor to the man?” the lawyer does not say, “The Samaritan showed him mercy.” By saying, “The one who showed him mercy,” the lawyer is putting the emphasis, not on the Samaritan, but on the mercy. The lawyer seems unwilling to admit that anything good could come out of Samaria. But we know that something good came out of Samaria: this Samaritan, the outcast, who was both good and merciful.

And I wonder, I just wonder what might have happened in the story if it were the Samaritan who fell into the hands of robbers. What if the Samaritan had been stripped and beaten, and left along the roadside half dead?

I doubt that the priest or Levite would have stopped to aid the Samaritan. If they did not stop for one of their own people, why would they stop for this stranger, this unclean man, this outcast, this Samaritan?

I doubt the priest or Levite would have stopped to aid a wounded Samaritan, but I like to think that if the roles of the wounded man and the Samaritan were reversed, the wounded man would have come to the aid of the Samaritan.

The Samaritan saw a fellow human being, one of God’s own children, on the side of the road. In that moment the Samaritan does not think about what divides them but what unites them. As the parable states, when the Samaritan sees the wounded man, “he was moved with pity.”

The Samaritan was moved with pity. He has empathy. He identifies with the wounded man, and does unto another what he would have the other do unto him. The Samaritan treats the wounded man as he himself would like to be treated.

And the Samaritan would like to be treated well, for the Samaritan gave the wounded man the royal treatment. Listen again to what the Samaritan did for the half-dead man:

The Samaritan bandaged his wounds, having poured medicinal liquids on them, oil and wine. He put the man on his own animal, and walked alongside. The Samaritan brought the man to an inn, and did not just leave him there. The Samaritan stayed and took care of him. The next day when the Samaritan had to go on his way, he gave the innkeeper two denarii to take care of the man.

Even a single denarri is no small gift. A single denarii was a day’s wages for a laboring man. So two denarii is a considerable amount, a daily wage, doubled.

And the Samaritan is not yet done. He tells the innkeeper, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.” The Samaritan is paying for the best of care, giving the innkeeper a blank check, and then returning to the man, rather than leaving him at the inn to go home alone.

The Good Samaritan does eight, that’s eight, distinct acts of mercy on behalf of someone he was supposed to be estranged from, someone who might or might not have helped him in similar circumstances, if he were lying alongside the road, half dead.

The Samaritan believes that there is more uniting Gods children than dividing us, or at least the Samaritan lives this way. And can you imagine how the wounded man will now treat others who need help? Having received mercy, don’t you think he will now extend mercy? I think so.

I think it would also be interesting to know what is going through the mind of the wounded man as he lies on the roadside. Did he see the priest and Levite walking near him and then walking away, without a word or even a gesture of sympathy? How does he feel about their actions? How does he feel about them? What happens to his faith at that moment?

And then, what does the wounded man think and feel when a Samaritan approaches him ministering unto him like Clara Barton or Florence Nightingale. Do you think the wounded man first cringes and avoids the Samaritan’s touch, perhaps even denying that he needs the Samaritan’s help? Well that might happen, depending on how deep the wounded man’s prejudice is against Samaritans.

Yet, I like to think that while it is often difficult for us to receive help, especially if we are caregivers, rather than care receivers, I like to think that the Samaritan’s smile is so warm and friendly, his touch so gentle, his assurance so resonant, that any resistance that the wounded man might have had toward the Samaritan evaporates like water in the desert. Call me a cock-eyed optimist, but I think that it is possible, even likely, that the wounded man and the Samaritan become friends, their new relationship demonstrating that reconciliation is possible, that reconciliation is real, that reconciliation is a gift, a gift of God’s mercy. And Jesus says to the lawyer and to us, “Go and do likewise.” Amen.

America, America

A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett July 4, 2010

WELCOME

Good Morning and Happy Independence Day, one and all! To get us in the mood, our prelude this morning, played by Richard Binder at the Steinway, is “You’re a Grand Old Flag.” Take it away, Richard!

THE OLD TESTAMENT WITNESS 2 Kings 5:1-14

This is a story about powerful people. Naaman, a mighty general, two kings --- the king of Aram and the King of Israel, and the prophet Elisha are the powerful people, at least in a conventional sense. However there are other people in the story, lowly servants, who are the true agents of change.

2 Kings 5:1-11.

THE GOSPEL WITNESS Luke 10:1-11 and 16-20.

This is a story of Jesus sending out seventy of his appointed to announce the kingdom of God. The seventy return with joy for the response they have received

SERMON

“God Bless America!” How sweet the sound, how sweet the sound to American citizens, anyway, citizens of this great country of ours.

And for much of the last century, the words rang true. God blessed America and was blessing America. We had won World War II for freedom for the world, and we were the Greatest Country on Earth: in terms of economic strength, political strength, military strength, religious strength. We manufactured goods for the whole world and got the lion’s share of the wealth that this manufacturing produced. Home ownership boomed after World War II and education too, due to the GI Bill.

America was also the greatest country in values, at least professed values of “freedom and justice for all.” The fact that “freedom and justice for all” did not include Blacks, Hispanics, Asians (at least Japanese Americans), women and gay people --- the fact that large minorities were excluded from basic freedoms did not seem to dull the pride of the great majority, who considered themselves the “moral majority.” After all, “might makes right,” or so they say. And “majority rules.”

But what a difference fifty or sixty years can make! Where we once considered ourselves the greatest, I don’t know that we think that way anymore. We are but one of the world’s super powers. We are one of the family of nations, and not necessarily at the top of the pyramid.

We are no longer the world’s leading manufacturer. Our steel plants have closed. Our automobile plants are just recently picking up again, after major shutdowns. Much of our manufacturing of both hard and durable goods has moved to Asia or Mexico, leaving our workers scrambling for work or hopeless.

We are having an economic crisis, a mortgage crisis, a bank crisis, a stock crisis, a health care crisis, an immigration crisis, a marriage equality crisis, and probably even more crises, if we stop and think about it.

And of course we do have the huge oil spill in the Gulf that may change life forever in that region and beyond, so there is an ecological crisis too.

We are engaged in two wars, in Iraq and Afghanistan, wars that have been going on forever, wars that we don’t seem able to win, at least in the conventional sense of winning. We’ll have to se what really happens in August in Iraq, the promised ending date of the war if not the conflict.

We were brought low on the morning of 9/11. We were knocked down but not out. We had been knocked down at Pearl Harbor, but a resolution in our favor, came much sooner. We won. We used two atomic bombs on civilian targets, but we won. Terrorist targets in our time are more illusive than enemy nations Just where is the enemy? And who is the enemy?

America , America. How did we get into all this mess, and how can we get our of it?

Well, I think both the Gospel Witness and the Old Testament Witness have something to tell us.In the Gospel story, the seventy go out and return with joy because all are submitting to them in the name of Jesus, even the demons. Jesus himself says to the seventy: “I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you.”

And for the most part, isn’t this how we have viewed America, America? We are God’s blessed, God’s chosen nation, with a manifest destiny to rule this continent and indeed the world. The fact that the United Nations was built here, rather than in Switzerland or Holland, which are known for peace, is a testament to our status in the world and our power in the last century.

But Jesus knows that power, especially earthly power is not what truly matters. There is a higher power, a higher power than national power.

Jesus also says this to the seventy: “Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits (and by this Jesus means the demons, the snakes and scorpions and all enemies) submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

So the issue is not our power but our relationship, relationship to God, to have such a strong relationship that our name is “written in heaven.” And this is the point: we are not to grieve our national loss of power and status on earth but rather, to work on our relationship with God. Of course we still have to solve our internal and external crises, but most nations have these same crises or crises of their own. So again, welcome to the family of nations, America, America.

And where might we go for help to solve our internal and external crises? Just as in the Old Testament Witness, our help, our guidance, our blueprint for change might come from unexpected places.

If you remember, it was the servants, not the mighty, who had ideas and solutions in the story of Naaman. Maybe our country needs to listen to the voice of the people, the little people, who say, “Wash, and be clean.” Maybe our national problems aren’t so complicated after all. “Wash, and be clean.”

If we realize we don’t have all the power and actually don’t need all the power, if we can listen to ideas for change from unexpected sources, if we wash and are clean, then we are heading in the right direction, relating to God’s power, God who blesses America, America, and all the nations and people of the earth. Amen.

HYMN OF RESPONSE “This is my Song” by Jean Sibelius.

These stanzas were written as a prayer for peace among the nations.

Follow Me
A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett June 27, 2010
THE GOSPEL WITNESS Luke 9:51-62
The Gospel Witness for today is one of the more troubling passages in the New Testament. Jesus says two things in the final verses that we may find hard to accept. It may even seem to us that Jesus himself would find these words hard to accept:
“Let the dead bury their own dead,” and “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back (at their family) is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:60-62
To understand why Jesus is saying these things, we need to understand the context. The very first sentence of the reading gives us that context, although it is written in poetic language that we must translate.
The first sentence is “When the days drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”
“Taken up” refers to the events of Holy Week --- Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, the Last Supper, his arrest, trial and crucifixion, which is followed by Easter and then by Jesus’ ascension (being “taken up”) into heaven forty days after Easter.
Being “taken up” is serious business. This is what Jesus was born to do --- and so “he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” This “setting his face” shows the determination of Jesus. It may be as though Jesus puts blinders on, so that he will not be distracted.
In this period of time, when Jesus has set his face to Jerusalem, he may be teaching and preaching less, if at all. His healings may have slowed down or stopped as well. The lack of a public presence or as we might say “personal appearances” may be why the village of Samaritans does not receive Jesus --- “because his face is set toward Jerusalem,” as the text states.
THE WITNESS OF ST PAUL Galatians 5:1, 13-25
The words of St Paul for this morning are also troubling, and their interpretation over the millennia has distorted the teachings of Jesus, creating a dichotomy where Jesus saw none. The dichotomy is “flesh” on the one side and “spirit” on the other. “Flesh” is bad and “spirit” is good.
The irony here is that Jesus becomes flesh, for us. As it says in the Prologue to the Gospel of John, “and the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth.”
So what does St. Paul mean when he says that the flesh is bad?
I think we will more truly understand what St Paul is saying and meaning if we remove the word “flesh” from the reading altogether, and substitute “self-indulgent self” or “selfishness.” St Paul uses the word “self-indulgence” in an early part of the reading, and so I think it is helpful to carry that concept over into the rest of what Paul is saying.
SERMON
In the Gospel reading for today, Jesus has put down the mantle of “Mr. Nice Guy.” For the next days, Jesus has a new focus. The new focus is not so much teaching about God’s love and the forgiveness of sin. The new focus is less about generosity and more about determination.
We might think that Jesus’ new focus is less about love and more about destiny, but I think we would be wrong if we thought this. Love remains at the core of all that Jesus does and is. But this is “tough” love, perhaps even “rough” love.
On the way to Jerusalem there is not time for sentimentality, not time to say good-by, not even time for mourning. Jesus is on his way. His face is set, and if you have other things to do besides following him and following him right now, to proclaim the kingdom of God, then do what you have to do. Just forget about following Jesus, at least forget about following Jesus to Jerusalem.
With his harsh-sounding words, Jesus is saying that following him is a serious commitment, a final commitment, an ultimate commitment.
You put aside your worldly treasure, your hearth and your home for the kingdom of God. You risk losing your life for his sake, so that you might find it.
Some people did what Jesus said and followed him, immediately and without question to Jerusalem. Others stayed behind, burying their fathers and providing for their wives, their partners and their children.
Over the centuries the Church institutionalized this radical following of Jesus, with clergy and nuns set apart, forsaking all others, including family. The religious life, often marked by vows of “poverty, chastity and obedience” was considered a higher calling, a gift from God and a gift to God. Large Church-going families liked to dedicate one child to the Church, encouraging him or her to become a priest or nun from an early age.
Of course whenever something is institutionalized there can be problems because institutions are flawed, as are the people that run them.
And while Protestants kept the concept of a calling from God to the ministry, we did not keep the priesthood as a celibate group, set apart. We believe in intimacy and family life for our clergy. We also believe in the priesthood of all believers.
With the invention of the printing press and the Bible’s translation into the vernacular, rather than in academic Hebrew and Latin, people began to realize that there are a great many ways to follow Jesus. The Church lost its monopoly on defining what it means to be faithful.
For Protestants, especially members of the United Church of Christ, following Jesus is a very personal thing, related to our faith, so personal that we may feel uncomfortable even talking about it.
But what all followers of Jesus can take from the Gospel reading for today is this: following Jesus is not something casual; following Jesus is not a Sunday morning thing, but an every morning, every afternoon and every evening thing.
Following Jesus does not mean that we are thinking about Jesus and our faith all of the time, but rather, that Jesus and our faith permeates our hearts, souls, minds and strength so that when we are at are best, we are following our Lord in what we say and do.
Following our Lord becomes natural, and when we must make a difficult decision, our faith and our Lord lead us in the direction we want and need to travel.
As St. Paul wrote in Galatians, following Jesus means putting aside self-indulgence, saying good-by to the self-indulgent self and being led by the Spirit, which is the Holy Spirit, into lives of love, joy and peace, lives grounded in patience, kindness and generosity, with a good measure of faithfulness, gentleness and self-control blended in.
Our West Center Church bylaws, under Membership Qualifications, states: “We join and covenant, one with another, to worship, work and serve together, that we may express through our church and our individual lives, the love and faith taught by Jesus Christ.”
Those words, written some eighty-three years ago, at the time of our founding on June 13, 1927, are as true today as they were then. We covenant as the church, serving together and as individuals in our personal and private lives, to express the love and faith taught by Jesus Christ when he says, “Follow me.”
Amen.

Dear Old Dad

A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett June 20, 2010

REMEMBERING OUR FATHERS

Today being Father’s Day, I would like for us to take a moment to remember and honor our fathers and other significant father-figures in our lives. Close your eyes, if you like, and try to remember a time you shared with your father or your father-figure. (pause)

Let us pray: O God, on this day when our nation recognizes fatherhood, may we recall with thanksgiving the men in our lives who loved us, guided and inspired us on our journey into today and tomorrow. And may we always look to you, O God, as the Father and Mother of us all. Amen.

THE GOSPEL WITNESS Luke 8:26-39

The Gospel Witness for this morning is about one of our Lord’s many healings. This particular story occurs in Matthew, Mark and Luke as “Jesus Heals the Gerasene Demoniac.” Of all the healings of Jesus, this is arguably the most dramatic and troubling. Unlike most of his healings, this one strikes fear into the hearts of those who observe it and even those who only hear about it.

THE WITNESS OF ST PAUL Galatians 3:23-29

This morning’s Witness of St. Paul is once again about faith, faith, uniting people who had seemed to be at opposite ends of the spectrum: All who are baptized are children of God. All labels that divide us have been dissolved by faith in Christ.

SERMON

To me, the most surprising and the most disturbing part of the story of Jesus healing the Gerasene demoniac is not the demons entering the swine. That part of the story is interesting, dramatic and maybe even horrifying, as the swine rush down the steep bank in great numbers and drown in the lake.

But to me, the most surprising and disturbing part of the story does not concern the swine or even the man who was cured. The most surprising and disturbing part of the story is about the swineherds and those whom the swineherds told what had happened.

The swineherds’ first concern must have been their swine, which were probably great in number. Their job was to protect the swine, and they had failed. The swine are all dead; the swineherds are out a job. And who is to blame?

When they see what has happened, they run off and tell about it in city and country, and people come from far and near to see for themselves what has happened.

But it does not seem to be the death of the swine that bothers the swineherds and visitors: “When they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid.”

“And they were afraid.” They were afraid of Jesus’ healing, specifically his healing of a naked man, a naked man who had clearly been out of his mind, tormented by demons.

The people seemed not upset by the swine stampede and the demons that may have died with the swine or were now set free. The people are upset because their social order has been turned upside down. They had objectified the demoniac as less than human. He was crazy (as we used to say about those who are mentally challenged).

Their problem is this: if the crazy can become sane, does this not also mean that the sane can become crazy?

Rigid categories make life more manageable, or so it may seem, at first. There are the blacks, and over there are the whites. There are the legal immigrants, and over there the illegals. There are the straight people, and over there are the gay people.

Yet most black people and many white people in America have ancestors of the other race hanging from the family tree --- even Thomas Jefferson.

Some so-called illegal immigrants have lived and worked here for decades, often in lowly service, as law-abiding citizens, except they have no papers.

Many straight people have gay relatives or at least gay friends, just as gay people have straight relatives and friends. So what’s the difference?

St. Paul had it right, when he wrote, “in Christ Jesus we are all children of God through faith.” There is no longer black or white, legal or illegal, straight or gay, crazy or sane, “for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.”

Eventually those who had heard the story of Jesus healing and who had come and seen the healed man “asked Jesus to leave them; for they were seized with great fear.”

They ask Jesus to leave because they do not want any more of his healings upsetting the status quo. The people want the old, comfortable divisions: me or you, his or hers, them or us, crazy or sane.

“So Jesus got in the boat and returned (to Galilee).” Jesus had other places to go other healings to attend to. The healed man begged to go with Jesus, but uncharacteristically, Jesus said “No” to the man. Jesus had another use for him.

If the man went with Jesus, the man’s witness would be lost: what he had been and whom he had become. If the man stays in his community, talking about God and what God has done for him, the man will constantly remind people of the universality of God’s love and how even the demon-possessed can be set free.

Our Lord’s healing, his teaching, his preaching, his life, death and resurrection are not meant to divide us, but to bring us together as one. St. Paul must have known this story of the Gerasene demoniac, and he took the story and turned it into poetry in his Letter to the Galatians.

Jesus was good at breaking down barriers, those walls that separate and divide us. And on this Father’s Day, I want to end with the major division that Jesus healed. All of his other healings flow from this healing.

Jesus healed the division between God and people, between God and us.

Whereas in the earlier scriptures God is usually unapproachable, appearing on a mountain top or in fire or smoke or tablets or whatever, Jesus demonstrates an approachable God.

Whereas before Jesus, in some of the ancient scriptures and traditions, the name of God is too holy to even say, Jesus calls God by name.

Jesus calls God, “Abba” or “Father” in the Garden of Gethsemane, on the night before his death, when he asks God to spare his life.

When Jesus says “Abba,” Jesus is not calling his Father, Divine or even King. The word “Abba” is a word used in families. “Abba” is a word of familiarity. And do you know how best to translate it?

“Abba” means “Dad” or “Daddy.”

Isn’t that amazing? Jesus calls his father “Dad.” This is radical, revolutionary --- that when life is toughest, Jesus can, and we can through faith in him, call upon God as Dad or even Daddy.

Jesus does not always use the word “Abba.” He only says it once in the New Testament. When Jesus uses the word “Father” in the Lord’s Prayer, he uses a form of the Latin ‘pater,’ which is familial, if less intimate.

But Jesus uses “Abba” when he needs it most, when he says, “Spare me, Dad, but your will be done.”

So on this Father’s Day in the year of our Lord 2010, we are invited to do two things: first, to reflect upon and live our unity with all people through faith.

And second, we are invited to think about Jesus calling his male parent “Dad” or “Daddy,” and to ponder what emotional doors this might open for us, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Go in Peace

A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett June 13, 2010

THE GOSPEL WITNESS Luke 7:36-8:3

In the story, a Pharisee, one of the strict followers of the Jewish law, invited Jesus to eat with him. The guests probably were not sitting in chairs but more likely were reclining on couches around a low table. When a woman comes and washes and dries Jesus’ feet, her actions are highly visible. At the time, even in private homes, the uninvited could bring tribute to the host or guests.

THE WITNESS OF ST PAUL Galatians 2:15-21

In the Gospel Witness Jesus says to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.” And now in Galatians we have St. Paul writing about the centrality of faith in knowing and loving God. Faith in God through Christ is more important than trying to obey all the religious laws, which is doomed to failure.

SERMON

The woman in today’s Gospel Witness who bathed and dried, anointed and kissed Jesus’ feet was one brave lady. She was recognized as a sinner, perhaps even a prostitute, and so she was very low on the social/religious scale. The woman was the very opposite of Simon, the Pharisee who invited Jesus to dinner.

The woman was brave to enter the house of a Pharisee and to touch the body of Jesus, a man who was not a relative, a man she had apparently never met, a stranger. The woman is brave because she knows her need is great. She is driven to bravery. She wants to live another life, a better life, a faithful life. She is so moved by being in the presence of Jesus, she weeps, copiously, and bathes Jesus’ feet with her tears, drying them with her hair, kissing them and anointing them with precious ointment.

The Pharisee, Simon, had invited Jesus to dinner, to try to determine whether Jesus was a true prophet of God or a false prophet. Simon has an ulterior motive. He is not being truly hospitable. He is not acting from a spirit of generosity. He is acting for his own gain.

Simon sees Jesus accepting the woman’s touch and says to himself that Jesus cannot be a prophet: “If this man were a prophet, he would have known and what kind of woman this is who is touching him --- that she is a sinner.”

Jesus can tell what Simon is thinking, and Jesus gives Simon a lesson in true hospitality. It turns out that the woman, the sinner, has greeted Jesus with genuine love, rather than self-seeking behavior, as Simon had done. She has bathed and dried his feet, kissed them and anointed them with ointment from an alabaster jar, while Simon did nothing.

Jesus tells the woman that her sins are forgiven because of her faith. And that she may go, go in peace. The woman came to Jesus in hope and devotion, and through faith, her life was made new.

The story does not tell Simon’s reaction to Jesus’ words to the woman, but it is no doubt the same as the other guests at the table, who are incredulous: “Who is this that even forgives sins?”

Forgiving sins, receiving alms, was the role of the priests, acting on behalf of God. Who is this itinerant man? What is the source of Jesus’ power? Who does he think he is?

But Jesus does not stay around for further questions and accusations at the house of Simon. “Soon afterwards, he went on through cities and villages, proclaiming and bringing the good news of the kingdom of God.”

And it seems to me the point of the story is that we are to be like the woman and not the Pharisee. Like the woman, we too can approach Jesus with our tears, our brokenness, our need. We can approach him and give him whatever it is that we have to give. She gave kisses and ointment. We may give prayers and offerings, deeds of kindness and love.

No matter who we are, we are loved and forgiven. We have a fresh start. We can go in peace because our faith has saved us. As St. Paul writes, “And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

Not that our faith is unquestioned and unshakable. But our faith is our faith is our faith. We’ve come this far by faith. And we will go on in faith, through the valleys and up the mountains, through the deserts and across the seas.

And as we approach our Lord, Jesus comes to us, as we are, and receives us, saying, “Welcome. I’ve been expecting you.” Amen.

c 2010

Lest We Forget

A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett May 30, 2010

NAMING NAMES: WE REMEMBER

In addition to being Trinity Sunday, this, of course, is Memorial Day Weekend. It’s a time when our nation pauses to remember and thank those men and women who have served our nation in military service. Unfortunately, however, the emphasis of Memorial Day now seems to be the beginning of summer, with a long, three-day holiday weekend.

So this morning, “Lest We Forget,” I thought we would stop to remember and name the names of those veterans in our lives and in our church community who have served our country and gone on to glory. Let’s pause and remember, and I will invite you to say the name, and also the war or conflict and where they served. I am coming down to the congregation, so I can hear the names and repeat them.

I remember my Uncle Arnold Barrett, who served in World War II in the Navy in the Pacific. Others?

Let us pray: O God, we remember those whom we have named and those whom we have not named. We are grateful for their devotion to this country, and the bravery and sacrifice they demonstrated. Continue to hold them in your loving embrace, as we hold them in our hearts. We long for a time when we will not need the military, but unfortunately violent conflict seems to be increasing rather than decreasing around the world. Yet still we pray, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” Amen.

THE GOSPEL WITNESS John 16:12-15

The Gospel Witness for today is from the Farewell Discourses of Jesus at the Last Supper. In the reading Jesus is speaking of how the disciples will learn the truth once he has gone into Heaven. Jesus speaks of the Spirit of truth (or Holy Spirit), the Father and himself. Our Lord’s words are both poetic and mysterious.

THE WITNESS OF ST. PAUL Romans 5:1-5

In these five verses, St. Paul brings together God, Jesus and Holy Spirit, through faith, peace and hope.

To understand what St. Paul means about boasting in our sufferings, it helps to know the theological and historical context. At this time it was still believed that suffering was a punishment from God for disobedience. St. Paul says that the contrary is true, that suffering leads to hope, which does not disappoint us because “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.”

SERMON

While Jesus never uses the word “Trinity” in the Gospels, it seems clear from the Gospel of John that Jesus understood God, himself and the Holy Spirit as three in one and one in three.

Jesus sees himself as coming from God, whom he calls Father, and returning to God. Jesus is in God and God is in him. God is divine, while Jesus is both divine and human.

And when Jesus leaves the disciples, ascends to heaven, and is no longer physically present, even as the resurrected Christ, something new appears.

Something new appears, not really to take the place of Jesus, but to guide his followers into all the truth and to declare the things that are to come, things that belong to God and Jesus and now also belong to us.

This something new is the Advocate (with a capital ‘A,’) the Spirit of Truth, the Holy Spirit. Jesus uses these names to name what the hymn, “Holy, Holy, Holy,” also identifies as a person: “God in three persons, blessed Trinity.”

Three in one, one in three. If the Trinity is confusing, hard to get your mind around and unfathomable, don’t worry; that’s normal.

In our “Seasons of the Spirit” curriculum, Sean Gilbert, a minister in Australia, points out that the Trinity is more about faith than belief. Let me repeat that, “The Trinity is more about faith than belief.”

In other words, the Trinity is not something we need to believe with our minds. The Trinity is something we experience in our hearts and spirits in faith.

The Trinity is not in our heads but in the way we experience the Holy --- the “Holy, Holy, Holy.”

Holy God, the Creator, is beyond all human thought and imagining, yet listening to our prayers and giving us answers, as we are able to receive them. God the Creator is in the majesty of the Grand Canyon, the beauty of the Hudson’s Palisades, the laughter of a child, our own sense of the eternal.

Holy Jesus, the Son, is God made human, coming to us to teach and share our common experience of love and loss, tragedy and reconciliation, to suffer and to transcend suffering, to live and to die and to live again.

The Holy Spirit is present in the mysteries of life, strengthening us, bringing people and things together in what may seem like coincidences, but what are really gifts from God through the actions of the Holy Spirit.

St. Paul writes, “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 5:5) And indeed, the Trinity is united and shaped by love. God is love. Jesus is love. The Holy Spirit is love. Love is their essential unity. Love brings us into the triangle. One way to imagine the Trinity is a triangle of love, surrounding us and all people.

“Love, Love, Love.” All you need is love.” Love is all around us, beneath us, above us and in us.

The Trinity is a beautiful triangular-shaped box. You might even think of it as a heart-shaped box, a heart- shaped box of light, grace and peace, wrapped in the bonds of love. The Trinity of love is our dwelling place, our home, our church --- the place where we live and move and have our being. The place we move out from and the place we return to.

Before St. Paul became Paul, he was Saul, Saul of Tarsus, a city in present-day Turkey. As recorded in the Book of Acts, Saul was a great persecutor of the Church, until one day he was struck blind on the road to Damascus. He heard a voice say, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”

And Saul asked, “Who are you, Lord?” And the reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up, enter the city, and you will be told what to do.”

So Saul went into Jerusalem, where for three days he was without sight and neither ate nor drank.

By this time there was a new disciple of Jesus named Ananias. The Lord went to Ananias, and told Ananias that Saul was to be the instrument to bring the Lord’s name to the Gentiles and kings and the people of Israel. Ananias was puzzled but of course did what the Lord commanded.

“So Ananias went and entered the house where Saul was staying. He laid his hands on Saul and said, ‘Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.’ And immediately something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.” (Acts 9:17-19)

Saul became Paul, and a Saint of the Church. Saul spoke and wrote frequently of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Spirit that had filled him and turned his life around, so that instead of being a persecutor of the Church, he became its greatest leader.

Filled with the Holy Spirit, Paul dwelt in the Trinity of love, and he invites us to do the same, to stop and close our eyes, and let our hearts and lives be filled with the Holy Spirit, finding love where we might least expect it, and sharing it wherever there is need.

And on this Sunday of Memorial Day Weekend, let us not forget the men and women we named at the start of worship, and those we did not name, who loved our country, what it stands for and its people: men and women who were ready and willing to die for that love. They knew the horror of war, but they were also inspired by love.

When we are inspired by love, when we feel something like scales dropping from our eyes, we can know this is the work of the Spirit, the Holy Spirit, the Dancing Spirit, bringing us grace and truth and inviting us to dwell and even dance in the Trinity, the Trinity of love. Amen.

HYMN OF RESPONSE “I Danced in the Morning”

                                      Dazzling Clothes
                  An Easter Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett
                                        April 4, 2010
GREETING
Good morning and welcome to West Center Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, on this glorious Easter morning!
THE GOSPEL WITNESS    Luke 23:50-24:12
Our Gospel Witness this morning is the story of the Burial of Jesus and his Resurrection, according to Luke.
SERMON
I think it is interesting to know that at the very first Easter, some people were dazzling, or at least their clothes were dazzling, dazzling white.
And while today many of us might not dress up for Easter as we did in previous decades, Easter is still a dazzling holiday, or more appropriately, a dazzling holy day. And the informal parade of many an Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it, may even continue to inspire a sonnet or two on the avenue, Fifth Avenue, this afternoon.
But of course Easter is a dazzling holy day for what happens at the tomb. What we wear is but a pale reflection of the great miracle of God in the Resurrection of Jesus, the most dazzling miracle of our faith.
It is interesting to note that the word “dazzling” appears in the Gospel of Luke near the beginning of Lent on Transfiguration Sunday, and also at the end of Lent, at the Resurrection.
On Transfiguration Sunday, which is the Sunday before Ash Wednesday, Jesus goes up a mountain to pray with three of his disciples: Peter, James and John. And while on the mountain, “The appearance of Jesus’ face changed and his clothes became dazzling white.” (Luke 9:29-30) Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Moses and Elijah appeared and started talking to Jesus.
And in the Gospel Witness of Luke for today, when the women come to the tomb to anoint the body of Jesus for burial, they find that the stone has been rolled away and his body has vanished.


Quoting from Luke’s Gospel: “While the women were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen.” (Luke 24:4-5)
Jesus’ face and clothes are dazzling at the Transfiguration, and those who announce his Resurrection reflect the glory of our Lord, or at least their garments do. The men’s garments reflect God’s great miracle of love: love conquering fear, love conquering hate, love conquering even death itself.
It is dazzling, isn’t it? That loves wins out in the end, even over death? But love does win, and death is vanquished.
A dozen years ago Matthew Shepard, a young college student, was killed by two men in Wyoming because he was a gay man. And who remembers Matthew’s killers, their names and their stories, as they each serve out two life sentences with no chance of parole?
But Matthew Shepard lives on, as a martyr and more than a martyr, as a force for positive change. Ten years ago, his parents, Judy and Dennis Shepard, created the Matthew Shepard Foundation, whose mission is “to replace hate with understanding, compassion and acceptance through various educational, outreach and advocacy programs, and by continuing to tell Matthew’s story.”
The Matthew Shepard Foundation’s Tenth Anniversary campaign slogan is short and to the point: “Erase hate.” “Erase hate” is something we can all remember and must also remember to do.
Judy Shepard, who might have lived quietly with her grief, has become a dazzling advocate for human rights for all people.
But just what is a definition of “dazzling?” Maybe I should define it. Something that is dazzling hurts your eyes, takes your breath away, staggers your imagination, inspires your spirit, renews your hope in the future and perhaps even sustains your faith in God.
Sometimes when I am driving from Bronxville to Manhattan in the late afternoon, I am dazzled by the sun setting on the Hudson River. As I drive along for miles, the river looks like molten silver.

There is not a speck of blue or even white, anywhere, all along the Hudson’s length, as far as you can see. It is as though the river has become silver, and its silvery sheen is dazzlingly beautiful, magical and hopeful --- or at least I become hopeful when I drive along it.
To me, something this beautiful points to a Power beyond ours; anything this beautiful points to possibility and maybe even progress.
To drive along a silvery Hudson is to become hopeful, to hear the words, “Yes, you can. You all can,” in my mind, if not in my ears. And when I exit the West Side Highway for Riverside Drive at 95th Street, and lose sight of the Hudson and its dazzling water, flowing to the sea, that optimistic feeling, stays with me, all the way home.
And I think that the women at the tomb experience something similar. Seeing the dazzling men and hearing them say, “He is not here, but has risen,” stays with them and gives them hope, all the way home.
The women had gone to the tomb with spices and anointments to prepare the broken body of our Lord for burial. But listening to the men at the tomb, they remember the words of Jesus, and how Jesus said that on the third day he would rise again.
“And returning from the tomb, the women told all this to the eleven and to all the rest.”
The women were convinced that Jesus had risen because they had been dazzled, but to the disciples and the others, the words of the women “seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.”
The disciples and the others were still suffering with the pain of Good Friday, and as long as they sat together and grieved, that is where they would stay, lost in their grief.
But the women had gone out, gone out to do something for Jesus and had been inspired.
It turns out that only one disciple, Peter, caught something of what the women had experienced. The last verse of the Gospel Witness for today says, “But Peter got up and ran to the tomb.”

Peter did not walk but ran to the tomb: “stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves.” The cloths which had covered the body of Jesus were empty, waiting there, in silent testimony. The empty cloths were not dazzling, except for what they represented.
“Then Peter went home, amazed at what had happened.”
Peter is not amazed at what he heard from the women. He is not amazed that the tomb is empty and that the linen cloths were discarded. Peter is amazed at what had happened --- at what had transpired at the tomb.

Jesus had risen from the dead --- on the third day, just as Jesus had said he would.
Peter is amazed, even dazzled by his faith, his faith in Jesus as the Son of God, the Messiah. Peter realizes that “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)
And light, dazzling light, is what Easter is all about.
Easter is all about being dazzled, letting ourselves be dazzled.
Easter is being dazzled by people in dazzling clothes, standing beside us, bringing us a message of hope.
Easter is being dazzled by someone like Judy Shepard, who turns the loss of her only beloved son into an international agency of change, to erase hate, and to replace hate with understanding.
Easter is being dazzled by the beauty of God’s Creation and our own potential and possibilities within Creation.
Easter is being dazzled as Peter is, when all the pieces fit together, and we too make a leap of faith and know in our hearts that Jesus lives and is Christ, our Lord.
Different things dazzle each and all of us, from clothes to art to Christianity. And Easter is the symbol and the reminder to let ourselves go, to let ourselves be dazzled and perhaps even become dazzling, as we walk or run our spiritual path --- alongside our resurrected Lord. Amen.



                                             Weeds Among the Wheat
                                     A Sermon by The Rev. John M. Barrett     7/20/08
Welcome
This morning we are presenting the third in a series of four musical extravaganzas for you. The music this morning was composed by The Rev. Al Carmines, a UCC minister, and a creative genius -- in the pulpit, at the piano, and in the theater.
Al Carmines was the Associate Minister at Judson Church in Manhattan from the early 60’s through the early 80’s. The New York Times had this to say when Al passed away in August 2005, “Al Carmines, Experimental Theater Force, Is Dead at 69. The Rev. Al
Carmines marshaled his gifts as a showman, composer, singer and actor to turn the sanctuary of a Greenwich Village church into a riveting avant-garde stage that helped start the off off-Broadway revolt against mainstream theater in the1960’s.
In 1982 Al left Judson and founded a new church, Rauschenbusch Memorial UCC, which has since merged with Trinity Presbyterian Church on West 57^th Street in Manhattan.
Al may have passed away, but he lives on in the hearts and minds and spirits of those of us who love his music and are committed to seeing that his music continues to be played, so that new people and new generations can continue to be moved and inspired by Al’s genius – and the truths that he tells about both God and humanity in song and story.
It is not an exaggeration to say that Al Carmines was a musical genius. By his own count, he wrote about 80 musicals, operas and oratorios. Most were performed at Judson Church, and ten graduated to off-Broadway houses. A number of his shows continue to be performed today. Among these is his masterpiece, “Christmas Rappings.”
Prelude
Our prelude today is from Al’s show “Peace,” which he wrote in 1969. The song is called “Things Starting to Grow Again.” It talks of a day when “Water, nothing but water (rather than bombs) is falling out of the sky.” May it be so, O Lord.
Gospel Witness    Matthew 13:24-30 and 36-43
Our Gospel witness continues the planting metaphor that Jesus used last week. But today, instead of talking mainly about seeds, Jesus is also speaking about weeds --- weeds and wheat.
The kind of weed that Jesus is referring to is most likely darnel, a type of rye grass which looks like wheat, but harbors a poisonous fungus, which was thought to cause blindness.
A problem with darnel is that the roots of the darnel and the roots of the wheat intertwine, so that if you pull out the darnel, you will also pull out the wheat. So the farm workers must wait for the harvest to get rid of the darnel by burning it, while gathering the wheat into the barn.
The Witness of St Paul Romans 8:14-17
In this reading St Paul explains how the Holy Spirit brings a spirit of adoption to our own spirit. Because we have been adopted by god, we can call God “Abba” or “our Father,” or even the more familiar “Dad” or “Daddy.”
Sermon
Have you ever thought of the difference between a weed and a plant? At first glance, the difference may seem obvious. A plant is something you plant, when and where you want it, and a weed is something that just grows, when and where you don’t want it.
Some people might say that a weed is ugly, while a plant is beautiful; and that a weed is useless, while a plant that grows something for us to eat is useful.
I picked some things for an arrangement this morning next to the pulpit. Some came from a flower bed and others from a weed patch. Can you tell which is which? How do you think they look together?
Sometimes the distinctions between weeds and plants cannot be so clearly drawn. I think that milk weed is beautiful in its own evolving way (especially when the pods open and the seeds take flight on tiny parachutes). Its seed pods are essential food for monarch butterflies. No milkweed means no monarchs.
Some weeds may provide essential animal habitat. And some species that we buy and plant become invasive. Colorful bittersweetm, imported from Japan, climb trees and kills them, even mighty oaks. So maybe it is not for us to judge what is a weed to eradicate and what is a plant to cultivate (except on our own little patch of earth).
The parable that Jesus tells and explains in the Gospel reading for today is telling us just that. The parable teaches that God is the judge and that we are not to judge and condemn others.
At first reading it seems that this parable is designed to encourage faith and action through fear: the angels will throw the evil ones into the fiery furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth (not simple grinding of teeth, but gnashing!) “and then the righteous will shine like the sun in the Kingdom of their Father.”
This impending judgment does not sound very good, and it may even be unbelievable to our ears. Why? For over two thousand years we have learned that God has forgiven us in Christ, and like Jesus, we can call God, “our Father,” as heirs of God.
It is interesting to note that the Gospel of Mark does not use Matthew’s scare technique. And the Gospel of Luke has only one reference to fiery torment, whereas Matthew has several.
So this fiery interpretation of the weeds and wheat may tell us more about Matthew than it does about Jesus.

You see, in New Testament times, people believed in the judging, avenging God that they had known before Jesus and his message of God’s love. Religious people were expecting punishment, but they hoped and believed it would be directed towards others, and not at themselves.
The point of the Parable of the Weeds and the Wheat is that good and evil are very close together, even inter-connected.
The important thing in life is to pay attention to your own faith and behavior, and not to judge the faith and behavior of other people. After all according to the explanation of the parable, on the day of reckoning, God’s angels decide who goes where. We don’t. The point is for us to live the way God intends for us to live, being led by the Holy Spirit and loving God and our neighbor.
So, instead of being frightened by the Parable of the Weeds and the Wheat, we can be encouraged by it: we don’t have to worry about anybody’s behavior but our own! Isn’t that a blessing?
And as we grow and bear the fruits of the spirit, as individuals and as the Church, others may come to us, and we can invite them to share in our bounty. Or we might seek others out and offer the gifts of the spirit to them.
Al Carmines lived this way, generously sharing his bounteous imagination. Al was totally non-judgmental. Everything and everyone was grist for his creative mill: Abraham Lincoln, Anton Chekov, Gertrude Stein, Snow White, Adam and Eve, Joan of Arc, Jesus, Mary and Joseph --- as well as more ordinary folks Al knew from his own life.
Everyone has something to teach us, according to Al. In his show, “The Journey of Snow White,” one of Al’s songs is called, “I Love What’s Opposite in You.” Isn’t that a wonderful, beautiful idea?
Al’s enthusiasms were many. Although not athletic himself, Al wrote a show called “A Basketball Oratorio.” “A Basketball Oratorio” was performed in the Judson gymnasium. Although this was before my time at Judson, I heard that Al had trouble finding basketball players who could sing and dance --- or singers and dancers who could play basketball!
After Al suffered a cerebral aneurism in 1977, his creative output diminished in quantity but not in quality. The first show Al wrote after his aneurism was called “In Praise of Death.” Five of us came back to speak and sing of life from the perspective of death. It was like a musical second act of “Our Town,” with Al’s own unique stamp clearly on it.
The song about the high school cheerleader, who died tragically, doing a summersault cheer, was called, “She Was a High Stepper --- for Awhile.”

Al did not judge. Al joined. Al joined all kinds of people and all kinds of things together. Al put people and things together that had not been put together quite that way before.

Al wrote the first musical about homosexuality, back in 1973. Now gay musicals are fairly commonplace, even on Broadway. Some even have won Tony Awards.
But Al was first. He broke down the barrier. And Al was judged and in some quarters, he was condemned for it. And I imagine this reaction surprised Al and may have puzzled him.
Al was judged and condemned not for the music and the book of his gay musical, which were beautiful and true about gay life. Al was condemned because of the show’s title.
The show begins with the house and stage lights going to total darkness. Then cast members start yelling out insulting names for gay people. The last word to be yelled out is “faggot.”
“Faggot” is the name of the show.
Al’s use of this word released a firestorm in the gay community, and people picketed the show. These people may not have known that Al was gay himself. And had they gone in to see the show, they would have learned that the title is used as a contrast to his lively, lovely and truthful portrayal of gay life in the early 1970’s, pre-AIDS.
Among other things, they would have heard Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas sing a duet --- about their ordinary life in a lovely song called “Ordinary Things.” They would have also heard a plaintive song about passing youth, “I’m the New Boy in Town.”
Eventually the storm blew over and “Faggot” had a long, sold-out run.
In closing, what can we learn from the Parable of the Weeds and the Wheat --- and what can we learn from the creative genius of Al Carmines?
We can learn to be open to almost everyone and everything, recognizing our agreements and disagreements, but somehow going on, learning from each other, as part of the same human family, God’s family. We can also learn to leave the judging to God and God’s angels, rather than taking that burden on ourselves.
And if someday we find ourselves being judged and condemned by others, as Al was, we only need to “Go on with the show” believing in our own integrity --- and what we are accomplishing and attempting to accomplish --- as we are led by the Spirit of God within and around us.
Amen.

© July 2008