This Sermon is Sponsored by Walmart

      ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink,^* or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?^* And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, “What will we eat?” or “What will we drink?” or “What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God^* and his^* righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.        – Matthew 6:25-33

      Happy Thanksgiving!  I am so thankful all of you are here. 

     Budgets are tight across all America – even in our churches.  So, to bring in a little extra cash into the church, my sermon this morning has been sponsored by Meadowood Mall, Summit Mall, the Legends at Sparks Marina, Walmart, and Target.  So, on behalf of  "More Choices" Meadowood,  "Shop in Style"  Summit, "100% Style at Up to 60% off" Legends, "Save money.  Live better."  Walmart, and "Expect more, Pay Less" Target, They wish you a Happy Thanksgiving. 

     But given the economy, each of the sponsors of my sermon this morning asks that you not to be too thankful.  You see, tomorrow is Black Friday – to be precise at 12:00 AM tomorrow / midnight tonight – and, if you are too thankful for what you have, you're not likely to be rushing out to buy lots of stuff.  And that is bad for corporate America.  Alright, I'm kidding.  I have written to all these stores asking for sponsorship of my sermon today, but I haven't heard back yet.  So, the sponsorships are still pending.

     Today's Gospel somehow doesn't sound very in tune with the commercial shopping season, does it?

The messages we've on our TV's and radios since Halloween (or was it Labor Day?) all say, "Buy stuff - buy stuff - buy stuff!"  But Jesus this morning says, "I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?"  This seems completely unrealistic.  Preparing this sermon, I had to ask myself, "Have I ever really done this?"  I mean, have I ever really not worried?  I don't know that a day has gone by in my life where I haven't worried about my kids and my family, and/or my job, and/or, the poor polar bears and global warming, and/or traffic, and/or weather, and/or whether people liked me.

     And I worry about money, even though – did you know?  I'm a very rich man.  I didn't realize it until I did a little math. I know you were promised that if you came to church on Thanksgiving, there would be no math, but stick with me.  Let me tell you about my results.  Worldwide 1.7 billion people are in poverty - this is just 11% absolute poverty; it doesn't even include relative poverty.  The United Nations' definition of absolute poverty is living on less than $1.25/day.  I figured that for most of us here at Trinity we earn in about half a day, what takes an entire year for the poorest people on earth to make.

     It does no good to say, "Well Rick, you got an education and worked hard for many years."  I put my heart and soul into what I do, but you can't tell me I work harder than poor people.  If we paid people based on how hard people work, mothers in famine stricken parts of Africa should be billionaires.  So... I'm a very rich man... and over and over in my mind I keep hearing the words of Jesus in Luke 12:48: "To whom much is given, much is required."

     We have gotten out of practice of being grateful.  About 400 years ago on another continent there was a Lutheran pastor named Martin Rinkhart. He lived in Eilenberg in Saxony and it was during the siege of the Thirty Years War.   We've just been through a devastating fire that destroyed 35 homes – Eilenberg was a walled city that was surrounded and 800 homes were burned, and the people within suffered from the plague, from starvation, and it got to the point where the pastors within that town, within that village were burying 12 people a day.  Pretty soon the pastors themselves started to die and Martin Rinckart was the only pastor left. He was conducting 50 funerals a day, can you imagine? Fifty funerals a day. He buried over 5,000 people that year, including his own wife. 

     When the war ended in 1648 he sat down, and listen to the words that he penned:

 Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices,

Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices;

Who from our mothers' arms has blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.

      You probably recognize the words – they're hymn #397.    This was a man who knew horrors beyond all we can think and imagine, getting on his knees and leading people in praise and thanks to our God.  [Deb Kielsmeier, "Thanksgiving," Nov. 25, 2004, Christ Presbyterian Church Web Site, christpresbyterian.com.]

     Once you realize how blessed you are, and how grateful you are, you can't help but begin to see the ways each of us squanders and wastes and hoards.  It creates a tension in your heart, doesn't it?  Now, I'm not recommending calling off Thanksgiving or all shopping, but instead, I'm saying we should go deeper into it. 

     I pray that today's Thanksgiving will open our eyes and ears to the Creator of all things.  That it will open our imaginations to a God who passionately loves all life.  That on this day, we open our souls in thanksgiving for all our fellow human beings and creatures and the earth itself.  That we open our hearts to affirm that all that we have comes from God who gives everything away and would teach us that same path of stewardship and living. May we open our very beings to a God who says to you and to me, to rich and poor... to every race, to every country...every nation, to those of us who will go home to roasting turkeys... and to those who will not, "Could you worry a little less?  Be a little less anxious about your life?"  "The outcome is not in doubt; there is enough in my abundant creation for all."

     We pray, "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as in heaven..."  Just imagine this Thanksgiving Day if we weren't anxious; if we didn't stockpile and hoard; if we didn't buy into the myth of scarcity!  But instead, if we truly believed in God's abundance and providence.  If we opened our hearts and our hands.  What would the world be like?  If we truly believed we had enough and maybe didn't need whatever the hottest selling must-have gizmo is going to be at the stores tomorrow.  Everyone would have enough.  Everyone would be fed and clothed and have access to clean water, the way God intended!  Most wars are over wanting what others have.  Maybe even war itself would end, peace would come, and we would finally take the time to sit down as one world and learn to truly love our fellow human beings.

     And that... that might just be the Kingdom.  Amen.

Occupy Church!

     Take a look at this inspiring video. Whatever you think of the Occupy movement, if we could capture this same spirit in our churches, what a difference it would make!

 

     Thank you to Counterlight's Peculiars for making me aware of this!

Don't Feed the Donkeys! Don't harrass the a... um... burros!

     Only in Nevada would you read a story like this!

         The federal government has a warning for sightseers passing through Nevada’s rural roads: Don’t feed the donkeys.

     A person who harasses the asses may also be fined (It was just too good not to say!)  Read the whole story here.

Saints

Saints

by Matthew R. Brown

It is the glory of the Church that it cannot name all the saints.

It is the glory of the Church that it cannot remember all the saints.

It is the glory of Christ that we cannot count all the saints.

Saints are found behind all the rocks of the mountain.

Saints are found among the trees of the wood.

Saints hide in blossoms, ride birds, top clouds; follow passages under the earth.

They sweep the floors of the universe.

They take out the garbage of the cosmos.

The seeds they scatter soften and green the hillsides; leaves open their hands; joyful beasts wander among trees, cling to grassy slopes.

The faithful cling to the roots of the saints, growing up from the ground.

One of You is the Messiah

     The following is my own adaptation of a well-known Yiddish folktale.  If you are part of a church or synagogue that has struggled to bring in new members, I think there is a message in the story for you.  As a Christian, the church is my mother; but Judaism is my grandmother, and I love them both.  For all the incredible gimmicks that purport to attract and keep new members – everything from "Invite a Friend to Church Sunday," to bringing in visiting consultants, to expensive media campaigns – we might do better to listen to the wisdom of our grandmother.

     Once upon a time in the old country, there was a synagogue that had fallen on hard times. Only five members were left: except for one young boy, all of them were over sixty years old.

     In the mountains near the synagogue there lived an old retired rabbi. It occurred to the five to ask the rabbi if he could offer any advice that might save the synagogue. One of the more able members, a 62-year-old man by the name of Moishe, made the arduous climb up the mountain arriving late in the afternoon.  The old rabbi welcomed him humbly.  Sitting down to tea the old rabbi had prepared, the member of the declining synagogue spoke at length about the discouragement his congregation faced.  He described all of the different ways they had tried to attract new members: invite neighbors, provide programs for younger people, make their worship more upbeat and joyful, even going door to door inviting former members of the synagogue to return.  Nothing worked.  Finally, the member ran out of words as evening came on.  In desperation, he asked, "Rabbi, what should we do?"  After a long silence, the rabbi simply responded by saying, "I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is, the Messiah is one of you."  Stunned by this great news, Moishe, returning to the synagogue, and told the four other members what the rabbi had said. 

     In the months that followed, the synagogue members pondered the words of the rabbi. "The Messiah is one of us?" they each asked themselves.

     They began to look around themselves at the other people in the congregation trying to figure out which one of them could be the Messiah.

     "Surely it couldn't be Schwartzman.  He's so old, he was around when God created dirt."  But as they thought about it, they wondered if maybe he could be the Messiah.  He certainly has a lot of wisdom, and he has been around longer than all of us – maybe he could be the Messiah.

     And then they thought, "Certainly it can't be young Jacob.  He's just a boy."  But as they thought about it, they wondered if maybe he could be the Messiah.  He certainly was a bright and good boy.

     And then they thought, "Of course, it can't be Miriam.  She's got a personality as sour as old gefilte fish."  But as he thought about it, they wondered if maybe she could be the Messiah.  Certainly the Messiah would be discouraged by some of the things that go on in our village.  The Torah and the prophets said nothing about the Messiah being a woman, but maybe God was doing a new thing.

     And so it went… as they thought about these possibilities, they all began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off-chance that, one among them might be the Messiah ... and on the off-chance that each member himself or herself might be the Messiah, they also began to treat themselves with extraordinary care.

     As time went by, people visiting the synagogue noticed the aura of respect and gentle kindness that surrounded the five members of the small synagogue. Hardly knowing why, more people began to come back to worship at the old synagogue. They began to bring their friends, and their friends brought more friends.

     I've been a fan of Yiddish literature since I was in college, and I believe there is an incredible depth of wisdom contained in them.  If you are interested in exploring Yiddish literature further, I would recommend the original book that caused me to fall in love with this genre: A Treasury of Yiddish Stories edited by Irving Howe and Eliezer Greenberg.  My personal favorite is entitled "If Not Higher" by I.  L. Peretz.

Angels Trapped in Granite

     When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ He said to him, ‘ “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’                                                                    – Matthew 22:34-40

     The Pharisees huddled in a corner of the temple trying to structure a question that would trip up Jesus. Finally they thought they had it: “Teacher, which is the great commandment of the law?” They were going to give him just enough rope to hang himself. They were to let him talk, and then, whatever he said, pick him apart like the front runner in a GOP presidential candidate debate in Las Vegas.

     According to Jewish tradition, the Torah contained a total of 613 distinct commandments. It seemed a foolproof trap: kind of like asking an attorney what's the most important of the twenty-seven amendments to the constitution? If you say the First Amendment (freedom of speech, the press, religion, and right to assemble), you immediately will be attacked: "What about the Fifth Amendment? Don't you think it's important to have due process if you're accused of crime? Do you support the right of government to just throw someone in jail because they don't like their political views?" If you say the 19th Amendment which as we all know gave women the right to vote, you'd be attacked: "You think that's more important than the 13th Amendment? The one that abolished slavery in the United States?" Jesus knew what they were up to. He said, in essence, “You missed it again, guys. It really takes two commandments to make the great commandment.”

     He started with what is called the Shema. They all knew it – all pious Jews had to recite the Shema, a quote from Deuteronomy 6, twice a day:

     Hear, O Israel: the lord is our God, the lord alone. You shall love the lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.

     The love of God has priority over everything else. Jesus takes that memorized set of verses they recited twice a day and extends it. He says the commandment to love your neighbor is like unto that first commandment, making it equally the greatest commandment. "You shall love your neighbor as yourself" from Leviticus 19:18 is preceded by, "You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against any of your people," then comes, "but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” It seems like Jesus is explaining that to love God with all our heart and soul and mind, we can't be filling our hearts with grudges against others. Our lists of wrongs take up precious space where we need to be absorbing the infinite goodness of God. I think Jesus wants us to see that we are taking up precious "soul space" with grudges... space within us that could be used to hold God instead.

     So how do you know if you love God? Teresa of Avila once said, “We cannot know whether we love God, although there may be strong reason for thinking so, but there can be no doubt about whether we love our neighbor or not.” 1 John. 4:20, 21 says, “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also."

     It's an easy concept, but how do you do it? How do you go about loving your neighbor in the real world? C. S. Lewis in his book Mere Christianity talks about how to do this practically:

     Do not waste your time bothering whether you ‘love' your neighbor, act as if you did. As soon as we do this, we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you loved someone, you will presently come to love him. If you injure someone you dislike, you will find yourself disliking him more. If you do him a good turn, you will find yourself disliking him less.

     In 2002, a newspaper report said that German police were investigating reports of screams coming from an apartment in the town of Offenbach found a 76-year-old woman practicing for a yodeling diploma. The police statement said, “The officers weren’t able to judge whether the neighbors were unfamiliar with Bavarian folk music, or whether the lady still requires a lot of practice.

     We won't always love our neighbor perfectly, but we can practice, and the feelings will follow.

     So we understand we're supposed to love God, and we get the point that we do that by loving our neighbor, but so often we skip over the last part of what Jesus said: "…love your neighbor as yourself." On the surface it seems natural to say that of course we love ourselves. We certainly have selfish motivations. I want my own way. We do things that feel good to us, no matter how they hurt other people. But I wonder if most of us truly love ourselves in the sense of accepting ourselves as we are – our good parts… and our broken pieces. We say such terrible things to ourselves: "What's wrong with me? Why am I so stupid? It's my own fault!" We look at others, and we just automatically assume they're happier than we are, their marriages are better, they don't have the same worries we do. But all of us carry around terrible burdens on our hearts. I guarantee you the person sitting next to you in the pew is carrying some kind of burden on her or his heart that you don't know about. But if we were just a little bit gentler to ourselves, maybe we'd realize that everyone is carrying the same burdens… burdens of their own… and then we could be gentler to them. So many people are hurting. If we broaden our definition of neighbor, we might see it.

     When I was teaching, I used to tell my students they were all my favorites. I'd say, "Sally gets to pass out papers because she's my favorite," and then ten minutes later, I'd say, "Mark gets to be first in the lunch line because he's my favorite." Someone would always say, "Hey, I thought you said Sally was your favorite!" and I smile and say, "She is." And they’d look at me as if to say, "You're the weirdest teacher we've ever had,"…and they were right.

     I had a student once named Ian, and that boy was a pain. He never did his homework; he always had an excuse. He never turned anything in on time, and everything was sloppy and half completed. Ian got to be my "favorite" a lot, I think because he really wasn't… and I felt guilty about that. Part of the population of my school came from the daily motels and rundown small houses scattered around the edges of downtown Reno. Around Thanksgiving, my school would collect enough food to create boxes of entire Thanksgiving dinners for poor students, and then we would go out on Thanksgiving eve and deliver them. Ian's house was on our schedule that year. We pulled up to the curb, and there was this rundown house sitting in the middle of a mud field. Ian was just standing there in the middle of the mud field huddled in his coat. It was a miserable, cold day, and it was getting dark, and I assumed Ian was playing outside, but he didn't look like he was playing – he was just kind of standing there. I carried the box of Thanksgiving dinner across the mud, trying not to think about was happening to my dress shoes. I tried to be cheerful, "Ian!" I said, "We’ve brought you Thanksgiving dinner!" He looked as excited as if I had told him he'd just won a trip to Disneyland. Then I found out why he was standing in the middle that field. He said, "I'm not supposed to go into the house until my dad gets home, but there's a broken window in the back, and I can let you in." We went up to the house. There was a pitiful old dog chained in the mud. Ian reached through the broken window in the back and opened the door. The house had maybe three tiny cold rooms. Ian told me I could set the box of food on the heater – it was a big square standalone thing in the center of the living room with a bare pipe running into the wall. I said, "Ian, I don't think it's a good idea to set a cardboard box on your heater." Ian cheerfully replied, "That's okay it hasn't worked since last year." I trudged back through the mud to my car and all I could think was, "God forgive me for not understanding the burden this little boy was carrying." After that, whenever I said Ian was my favorite… I meant it.

     When you think of things that are holy, what you think of? The altar? This church? The water in the font? Rarely, does the thought of your neighbor enter your mind first.  C. S. Lewis said, "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal ... But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors ... Next to the blessed sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.”

     The great painter and sculptor Michelangelo once bought a piece of inferior-looking granite which no one else would buy. Asked why he'd bought it he said, "Because there's an angel in there, and I must set it free." When Michelangelo was working on a sculpture, he didn't use the usual method of working on the figure from all sides. Michelangelo used to work from the front and carve back so that the figure emerged, as if it had been trapped in the stone, as if he was freeing it. Michelangelo looked at the piece of granite, which no one else wanted, and saw an angel needing to be set free. God looks at us, and sees our fears and our limitations, the things which lock us in. God also sees our abilities, our inner beauty, our potential. God sees the angel inside us waiting to be set free. God is the sculptor who brings forth our true created selves. As we open ourselves to God, allowing that sculpting to take place, we become aware of that beauty within ourselves… and within others.

     When you read about the death of Moses in Deuteronomy 34, you learn he never made it to the Promised Land; he only got to look over at it.  What you think of when you think the Promised Land? Milk and honey? Rest? Peace? So many of us are like Moses. We look over at the Promised Land, but we don't cross into it. Don't be like Moses. Don't just look over into the Promised Land. Cross the Jordan. Go into that good land. When one thinks of the Promised Land, one big thought that comes to my mind is a land where holy and just people live – a people who are loving and compassionate toward each other. They see the burdens each other is carrying and, day by day, they try in small ways, to lighten their load.

     There is a road that God has built that leads into the Promised Land, but the road often passes by dilapidated houses sitting in the middle of mud fields, and broken windows, and heaters that don't work, and little kids huddled into their coats. It passes by heartaches that we carry inside ourselves that no one else sees, but we pray that someone else… some day… will see.

     There is a road that God has built that leads into the Promised Land. It starts at your front door… but it leads… it leads through your neighbor's yard.

A Month of Gratitude on Facebook

Spend the month of November exploring "Gratitude". Scripture readings, writing prompts, surveys, movies, and prayers will be posted daily, Monday through Friday of each week. Check in every day for something new or just drop in when you have the time. Click the "Like" button below to be part of the experience! Everyone is welcome!