<![CDATA[SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH - Sermons]]>Wed, 05 Aug 2026 06:36:28 -0600Weebly<![CDATA[December 08th, 2019]]>Sun, 08 Dec 2019 07:00:00 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/december-08th-2019
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Rafces, mufion y brotes, un sermon sabre Isafas 11:1-11
Adviento 2, Domingo 8 de Diciembre de 2019
Para la Segunda Iglesia Presbiteriana - La Reverendo Kay E. Huggins
Este afio, al entrar en Adviento, el Pastor Rob nos advirtio que nuestros servicios se cent rarfan en esperar y preparar lo que significa que no hay celebracion. prematura, pero muchos buscando el significado: antes del nacimiento de Cristo; y tambien el profeta Isaias serfa nuestro gufa a traves del Adviento. Para muchos, lsafas es un heraldo improbable de la Navidad; el es un poco demasiado polftico (pensar, golpear espadas en arados compartidos... iOh! tonos de control de armas)
y un acaro poco realista (En realidad: la esperanza tan delgada coma un brote de un casi muerto munon... En serio, Isafas, (en serio?). lsafas no se ajusta a todas las
alegrfas forzadas de la temporada de compras, luces intermitentes y una pista ininterrumpida de rnusica "Navidefia".
iY ese es el punto! Las imageries de Isaias comenzaron con las dfas mas frfos y cortos del invierno y noches mas largas y oscuras; allf lsafas reflexiono sobre el proposito de Dias... Y cada vez que lsafas vislumbraba la obra de Dios, declaraba las verdades como Imageries ... algunas de las cuales conocen y aman mucho:
"Un nifio pequefio los guiara",
"La tierra estara llena del conocimiento del Senor," "El desierto se regocijara y florecera"
"Una joven concebira y dara a luz a un hijo:
y ella lo Hamara Emanuel!
- Sin duende en el estante de lsafas, sin una segunda taza de ponche de huevo, sin sobrecargar de mas las tarjetas de credito, sin caramelos, sin du Ices especiales de Hallmark. Mas bien, cuando, finalmente, lsafas hablo, sus palabras cantaron la verdad sobre todo el quebrantamiento y el dolor del mundo ... Entonces, cuando nos dirigimos a este profeta imaginativo y su mundo de oscuridad. preparemos nuestro corazon para la oracion.
-Oracion-

]]><![CDATA[A Formula for Potential Peace]]>Sun, 10 Dec 2017 07:00:00 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/httpkrwgorgpostarchbishop-deeply-troubled-daca-decision
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Isaiah 2: 2-5
In days to come
    the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
    and shall be raised above the hills;
all the nations shall stream to it.
    Many peoples shall come and say,
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
    to the house of the God of Jacob;
that he may teach us his ways
    and that we may walk in his paths.”
For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
    and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations,
    and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
    and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
    neither shall they learn war any more.
Judgment Pronounced on Arrogance
O house of Jacob,
    come, let us walk
    in the light of the Lord!

Isaiah 9: 2, 6
The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness--
    on them light has shined.  
For a child has been born for us,
    a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
    and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Mark 1: 1-8
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
2 As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,
“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way;
3 the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
    ‘Prepare the way of the Lord,
    make his paths straight,’”
4 John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.


                                                       A Formula for Potential Peace
    It is normally fair to assume that there is no formula to achieve life’s deeper purposes.  As we consider our four Advent themes, we know that no simple equation will ensure hope, no religious rubric will guarantee peace, no template will automatically exact joy, and no blue print will lead to the construction of love.  And yet, as we this morning ponder the peace of the season, I will leave us with a mathematical idea that can help us achieve and and promote peace.  The violence in our world makes the need for peace a premium.  Our journey to the Bethlehem is a journey to the “Prince of Peace.”  How is it, that we may map our our steps in the direction of a savior whose salvation is grounded in peace?
…Let us pray: As we journey closer to the manger, inspire us, O Lord, open our eyes and ears to truth-telling prophets.  May the wisdom they convey, guide us on our footsteps to the baby Jesus.  And now, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of al of our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer.  Amen.  
    Isaiah was a person of peace.  And his appeal to YHWH’s peace was amid a tumultuous time.  The Assyrian kingdom posed a significant threat to both the northern and southern kingdoms of Israel.  And Israel’s Northern Kingdom had been taken into captivity in the Babylonian exile, while the Southern Kingdom struggled mightily with sin and idolatry.  And to boot, Babylon was growing in power and looked to pose itself as a long-term threat.  The people of Israel were concerned about their present and future.  Many wondered what would become of the promises of God in the tempestuous world they lived in.  The same wondering that many voice feeling today—some 2700 years later.  And yet, in spite of war, conquest, political instability, ethnic tensions, and the displacement of his people, Isaiah, whose name means, “salvation of Yahweh,” preached peace.
    We hear it in the passage that Arturo read this morning: “For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.  He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”  Additionally, the book of Isaiah references, “a perfect peace.”  It promises of a coming savior who would be a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, and Prince of Peace.       
    But it’s not just Isaiah.  The savior who is to come, has a thing or two to say about peace.  Jesus blesses the peacemakers—for they shall be called the children of God (Matthew 5: 9).  Jesus admonishes us to let the peace of God rule in our hearts.  He holds that the peace which passes all understanding shall keep our hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God.  He claims the God is our peace and that the fruits of the spirit are love, joy, and peace.  In his farewell discourse from John’s Gospel, Jesus blesses with the words, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”  And the Risen Christ, when first appearing to his disciples, his words are, “Peace be with you.”  
    The Hebrew word Isaiah uses for peace is one you may be familiar with—shalom.  The meaning is broad.  Shalom can be peace from war, safety, welfare, health, prosperity, quite, tranquility, and a state between friends and even God.  So when Isaiah refers to the peace of God, he means all of those things—he means peace from our hearts all of the way to political and social realities.  
    In Greek, when Jesus says, “peace be with you,” eirene, the word carries a similar meaning as its Hebrew counterpart.  However, it also inferences, “the tranquil state of a soul assured of its salvation through Christ, and so fearing nothing from God and content with its earthly lot,” (Strong’s lexicon).  
    Thus when Isaiah and Jesus proclaim peace, whether in the heart of the person trying to be faithful to God, the face of international discontent, or even the agony of the cross, they mean a holistic peace that includes our inner souls, our relationships with those in our communities, and peace between nations.     
    That is a tall order!  That kind of peace may seem “pie in the sky.”  Christian doctrine, especially in our Reformed tradition has a history of recognizing our propensity to turn away from God and sow brokenness.  History books and the histories that doesn’t make it into books, contain bloodshed and conflict going all the way back to Cain slaying his brother Able.  Is preaching peace, pushing for peace, and praying for peace, even worth the effort?    
    According to the The Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, as it states, in relation to Isaiah’s prophecy of peace, “Here is a conviction born of Isaiah’s reading of the mind of God, that there shall yet be a day when [hu]mankind shall live together and walk together in faith and righteousness and brother [and sister]hood. How desperately the world needs such a faith!  Without its inspiration and its power to sustain our search for a way of peace, we are condemned to the dreadful prospect of wars succeeding wars until the human race destroys itself.  We have, in each generation the strange, tragic spectacle with people endowed with genius, yet wholly unable to learn the art of living together in peace,” (Volume 5, Pg. 180).          Our quest for peace must begin here.  If any peace will prevail, it has to begin in the hearts of individuals.  Because the actions of the world, are always expressions of what is happening in the hearts of people.  Our other prophet of the day, John the Baptist, is one who has a specific prophecy that speaks about right here.  It is his mantra.  He shouted it ad nauseam throughout the Galilean countryside: “Repent, for the kingdom of God is near.”  Repent, turn from that which is destructive to the soul and to others, and allow God’s love, mercy, and grace to fill your heart.  We have to repent and make peace in here for there to be peace out there.  And when we do, we can become what Jesus calls, “peacemakers.”  “Blessed are the peacemakers.”  In Christ, we are called to peace—and not an easy peace.  Evil, envy, anger, and violence, that is the impulsive way—the “easier way.”  Cultivating peace takes effort, focus, and faith.  It is easier to tear something down than it is to build something up.                             
​     It is Christ’s way.  And faithfulness to that way makes a difference in the world.  There are more high profile peace makers who have taken their call to heart.  Think Mahatma Gandhi who quipped, “I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent.”  Think Martin Luther King Jr. who said, “I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”  Think Nelson Mandela, who believed, “If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy. Then he becomes your partner.”  Think about Jesus, who when Judas betrayed him, turning him over to the soldiers, Pharisees and Sadducees, and “Then Simon Peter, who had a sword, drew it, struck the high priest’s slave, and cut off his right ear… 11Jesus said to Peter, ‘Put your sword back into its sheath. Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?’”  Jesus’ mission was not to start an insurrection, but rather to conquer evil, and violence and with divine love.        
    As we journey to the manger, that too is our call.  Swords are to be turned to plowshares—spears into pruning hooks.  How can we bring peace to the world around us?  How can we come to terms with our own darkness and allow Christ bring peace to our hearts?  How can we find peace in our hectic and frenetic lives?  When we are in a position to make a difference, in a relationship, with family members, with neighbors, in our church, in our communities and in our world, how can we translate the peace in our hearts to the world?  That is our task as peacemakers.  Does it seem difficult—nearly impossible?  Yes. Should we abandon a dream of peace that Isaiah prophecies?  Jesus didn’t, so neither should we.                                
     A friend of this congregation and a long-time leader in our presbytery sent a text yesterday with words emanating from her faith which is based in peace.  She walks the line of a holistic peace amid violence and anger.  Her words represent steps toward Bethlehem, in spite of debilitating violence.  They model a commitment to Isaiah’s message of peace, and to Jesus’ divine peace mission.  I asked Maribeth Culpepper, a long-time member of the Aztec community and the Presbyterian Church in Aztec, what could Second Church pray for, in light of the shooting.  Her response, “Prayers for the family of the shooter.  They are being treated terribly in the news.  Prayers for the family of the two students killed.  Prayers of thanksgiving for the custodian Emory Hill who went to Aztec High School and has been there many many years, he’s the one who ran down the hall after the shooter and yelling into his walkie-talkie ‘there’s an active shooter go on lock down.’  He saved so many lives and the courageousness of this man who became a first-time father six weeks ago is just unbelievable.  Prayers of thanksgiving for the way the community has come together and for the quick reaction of our law enforcement.  Prayers for forgiveness and grace in the hearts of all touched by this tragedy.”                   
    "The ultimate weakness of violence,” writes Dr. King, “is that it is a descending spiral begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy, instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate.  Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”  That pretty much sums up our mission.  As Jesus commands, "Put your sword back in its place," Jesus said to him, "for all who draw the sword will die by the sword.”  I began suggesting there was a helpful formula for peace.              
    It dawned on me early in the week while helping Carlos with his homework.  His assignment focused on potential energy—the notion from physics of the energy possessed by an object because of its position relative to other objects, stresses within itself, its electric charge, or other factors energy.  An example of potential energy is a car parked on the top of a hill or a rock on the edge of a cliff.  If a force nudges either one, with gravity, the car or the rock will move and a lot of stored energy will be released.                                        
​     Each one of us has a lot of potential, as miss Susie reminds us.  But each one of us has a lot of potential energy.  How do harness it properly.? We have potential rage energy and ego energy that can be released when triggered by violence.  But, in Jesus Christ, we have potential peace energy.  If triggered by a prophet, a savior, or divine love or any form, we can release peace energy.  This leads to praying for our enemies, restoring brokenness, and triggering peace in others.  That is the perfect peace of God—a peace that will help sustain us and the world, until Christ comes again.                                                
     In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 
]]><![CDATA[Weeding Out Faith]]>Sun, 30 Jul 2017 22:06:34 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/weeding-out-faith
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Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
24 He put before them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; 25 but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. 26 So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 27 And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ 28 He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ 29 But he replied, ‘No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. 30 Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’”


36 Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, “Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.” 37 He answered, “The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; 38 the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, 39 and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. 40 Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. 41 The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, 42 and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 43 Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears[a] listen!
Two weeks ago we heard Matthew’s version of the parable of the sower.  In that account, seeds of the kingdom are generously sown every which way.  The quality of their growth is left to the soil in which they are sown.  Today we exposed to another seedy parable, or better stated, a parables involving seeds.  But this time, a new element is introduced.  Near the beginning of the passage that _____ and I read, in verse 25, we hear about a new possibility—a possibility for bad seeds that grow into weeds.  Two weeks ago, we considered the soil.  Today, the passage is more interested in the seeds.  Read literally, the seeds can be interpreted as people.  Do we want to be good seeds that grow and flourish?  Alternatively posed, is the concern that we could be seeds that do not grow into life giving wheat, but we could rather become weeds.  But a better way to understand just may be to recognize that that our individual journeys of faith and as a community of faith, in order for us grow into a healthy plant, we have do do things that will help cultivate us in a life-giving manner.  However, this will not always be easy, as we just might encounter weeds among us, or within us, no matter the quality of the soil.


    Let us pray: We pray O Lord, that your word would be a source of greater clarity.  Silence the cacophony of voices that vie for our attention, and helps us settle out hearts on your voice of wisdom.  And now, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer.  Amen.       


    Upon reading this weeks passage, I was reminded of a true story about my brother David.  Several years ago, while living in the Baltimore are, David decided to open a sandwich shop.  Recounting the experience, he mentioned all of the effort that went into the preparation for opening day.  Negotiating the rent, applying for permits, buying equipment and food, and at the beginning, he was working on his own, no employees to help—so all depended on him.  You could say he had a dream, we might call a seed, and planted it and invested in it for something worthwhile to grow.  Well, the early June day arrived that was the grand opening.  He had a sign up, finished the prep the night before, and drove up to the shop at 5:30 am in the morning, to get ready for a strong breakfast crowd.  
    As he arrived, Dave entered, and while turning everything on, it came to his attention that the grill wasn’t working.  He turned it on an off, and nothing.  He scratched his head.  His next instinct was to check the propane tank outside.  Sure enough, when he looked outside, he was stunned to see that someone cut the gas line the night before.  (He would later find out that while he was asleep that night before the grad opening, the last tenant of the building, who happened to be disgruntled with the owner, took it upon himself to show his displeasure by cutting the gas line with a saw.)  Upon the discovery, David said that for a moment, he felt like giving up.  He had worked for months, and at the last minute, something completely out of his control, sabotaged the moment.     
    At some point or points in time, how many of us, if not all of us, have had a similar feeling?  We all can identify with doing what we can to help something grow from a good seed into a good plant: be work, relationships, communities or other arenas.  And then something challenges our work.  We may even feel good about ourselves about what we are trying to do or trying to accomplish.  And some thing or some things get in the way.  We try hard to be loving to a family or friend only to find ourselves rebuffed.  We engage our work ethically and thoughtfully in our workplace and someone or something undercuts all that we do.  We try to make good decisions in our lives about how to conduct ourselves and how to invest our time, and someone in our midst discourages us or even seeks to sabotage our process.  In such situations, we just might find our faith tested.  We may question: what is the point of trying to do good in the first place, if the weeds are simply going to choke our efforts?  It can lead to a sense of defeat.  And to be sure, when we hold up the mirror, their are times that the culprit can be us.  When we are not careful, we might be the person who does the letting down—we can be the weed.    
    In the words of the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, 
        “The Parable of the Weeds has many facets, but we can surely see, simmering             behind it, the experience of Matthew’s church—and ours too.  It chronically             comes as a shock to find that the world, that the family into which we were born,             that even the church is not an entirely trustworthy place.  The world has places of             wonder, but alleys of cruelty, too.  Families cause deep pain as well as great joy.              The church can be inspiringly courageous one moment and petty and faithless the             next.  Good mixes in with the bad.  ‘Where did these weeds come from?’ is a             perennial human cry?”…[The commentator goes on to ask, “Are we lost then             forever, then, in a hopelessly compromised world?”
    In our passage, Jesus recognizes the problem.  He is aware that there will be seeds, be it people, or be it social realities, that will grow up into wheat of the kingdom of God and bear grain.  And he knows that in the middle of the night, the seeds of weeds will also find themselves planted in the soil of the world.  And they will grow up.  And they will dot the landscape, serving as an eyesore to the wheat field.  But even more, they will have roots that will choke and crowd out healthy growth.  It may just be a metaphor to illustrate good vs. evil, love, vs. hate, justice vs. injustice, life vs. death—the human conundrum.  
    And after laying out the idea of the conundrum, Jesus anticipates the question that his faithful follower may pose in a time of feeling defeated: Is it worth it Jesus to grow into wheat?  Is it worth it Jesus, to dedicate our selves to good, and love and justice, and life, when the weeds of hate evil, and hate, and injustice, and death are going to rear their ugly heads at every turn—sometimes around us, and even sometimes within us?  Should we try?  Or should we just morph into weeds and milk the system of life only for our own benefit?  
    “Master, did you not sow good seeds in the field?…Do you want us to go and gather the weeds?”  Should we pull them out of the ground?  Try to eliminate them all?  
    “No,” responds Jesus, “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.”  So should we just the let weeds take us over?  “Let both wheat and weeds grow together until the harvest.”  The weeds will e burned by the harvester.  But your job now is tp grow the wheat…ins site of the weeds.         
    Friday and Saturday, your session and some of the deacons gathered at the Norbetine Community Center in the South Valley for a visioning retreat.  Saturday morning, we worshipped with the abbot and the brothers from the Norbertine order.  During our worship, we sang from Psalm 92 which provides us pertinent reminders: though the wicked sprout like grass and all evildoers flourish, they are doomed to destruction forever, but you, O Lord, are on high forever.”  And a few verses down, “The righteous flourish like the palm tree, and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.  They are planted in the house of the Lord; they flourish in the courts of our God.  In old age they still produce fruit; they are always green and full of sap, showing that the Lord is upright; he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.”
    I am also reminded of the wisdom from Psalm 1: Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night.  They are like trees
planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither.
In all that they do, they prosper.  The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away.” 
    Shall we give up on good, on love, on justice, or on life, because their polar opposites exist to do harm?  No.  No brothers and sisters!  The implementation of God’s kingdom is not an overnight endeavor.  Bad seeds can be planted overnight, but for good to be cultivated—that’s hard work.  Jesus tells us not to pull all the weeds, but he does not say, stand idle in the face of evil.  Part of cultivating good is the hard work of cultivation.  That is what we are called to do.  Keep sowing good, keep loving sacrificially, keep promoting justice, keep investing heart and soul to the flourishing of life!  Sometimes now, and always in the end, that way of faithfulness will always outweigh choosing the way of the weeds.  
    The morning of the grand opening, my brother felt defeated.  That is until word spread quickly in the community what had happened.  Nearby neighbors rushed over to bring him portable grills to cook the breakfast meats.  It ended up being a very successful opening day as he sold more sandwiches than expected. 
    When we stay committed to our faith, even in the face of weeds, we will move past the dark, defeating moments.  Good things will happened.  Not only in the end, but on the way.  When we commit to good, love, justice, and life, the weeds that may crop up within us wither away.  We join with others and are buoyed by their support.  And there will be moments of victory that remind us why we didn’t give up in the first place.        
     The following admonitions are from Dr. Kent Keith in a book he wrote about leadership.  He calls them the “paradoxical commandments.”  They are often erroneously attributed to Mother Theresa, however, she did keep a copy the the posed in the children’s home she worked in in Calcutta.  I close with the paradoxical commandments:     


    “People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.  
    If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.  
    If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.
    If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.
    What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.
    If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
    The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.
    Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.
    In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.”
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

]]><![CDATA[A Welcome Home]]>Sun, 02 Jul 2017 06:00:00 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/a-welcome-home
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Willkommen, kalós órises, benvenuto, foon—yen, bienvenido, welcome!  Questionable pronunciation aside, that is how you say “welcome" in German, Greek, Italian, Chinese, Spanish and English.  Welcome is one of those words in which how you say it is just as important as the literal meaning.  Rare are the cases, at least I can confirm in Spanish and English, that the word be used without reflecting a kind temper by the person saying it.  The word in ancient Greek, as it appears in the Matthew passage Clarabella and I read, is δέχομαι (dechomai).  It is literally translated, and I will share four different definitions: “He who receives,” “to receive or grant access to, a visitor, not to refuse interaction or friendship,” “to receive favorably, give ear to, embrace, make one’s own, approve, not to reject,” “to receive, i.e. to take upon one’s self, sustain, bear, endure.”  In our brief lectionary passage, the word is used six times.
Matthew 10: 40-42
40 “Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me, and anyone who welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. 41 Whoever welcomes a prophet as a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person as a righteous person will receive a righteous person’s reward. 42 And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.”

40 »Quien los recibe a ustedes me recibe a mí; y quien me recibe a mí recibe al que me envió. 41 Cualquiera que recibe a un profeta por tratarse de un profeta recibirá recompensa de profeta; y el que recibe a un justo por tratarse de un justo recibirá recompensa de justo. 42 Y quien dé siquiera un vaso de agua fresca a uno de estos pequeños por tratarse de uno de mis discípulos, les aseguro que no perderá su recompensa».​

                                                                       A Welcome Home

Let us pray: Gracious God, may your spirit rain down on our dusty lives with living water.  May our faith take us to new spaces and places of being in our relationships with you and our neighbors.  And now, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer.  Amen.

    Willkommen, kalós órises, benvenuto, foon—yen, bienvenido, welcome!  Questionable pronunciation aside, that is how you say “welcome" in German, Greek, Italian, Chinese, Spanish and English.  Welcome is one of those words in which how you say it is just as important as the literal meaning.  Rare are the cases, at least I can confirm in Spanish and English, that the word be used without reflecting a kind temper by the person saying it.  The word in ancient Greek, as it appears in the Matthew passage Clarabella and I read, is δέχομαι (dechomai).  It is literally translated, and I will share four different definitions: “He who receives,” “to receive or grant access to, a visitor, not to refuse interaction or friendship,” “to receive favorably, give ear to, embrace, make one’s own, approve, not to reject,” “to receive, i.e. to take upon one’s self, sustain, bear, endure.”  In our brief lectionary passage, the word is used six times.    
    One key association we often make with the word welcome is the word home.  We all know the phrase “welcome home,” or even, “a home of welcome.”  And when we literally welcome someone, we might say, “make yourself at home.”  When it comes to being an actualized person, when it comes to finding our place in this world, when it comes to being at peace with our identity, a fundamental aspect of that is having a place where we feel welcome, or at home.  
    A couple of prophetic voices of American literature remind us about the that basic human need for a sense of home.  Maya Angelou, in her book, “All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes,” wrote, “The ache for home lives in all of us.  The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.”  Echoing the sentiment of home as a place of acceptance, Twentieth century poet Robert Frost’s words, “home is the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in.”  For us to have any possibility of feeling peace in this world, we must believe that we have a place in which we are welcomed in spite of our idiosyncrasies—a place that we are accepted.
    Noting that football and baseball are among the most viewed American pastimes, the late comedian George Carlin came up with a witty comedic routine explaining the reason he prefers baseball to football.  He claimed that football combines the most unsavory aspects of American life like committee meetings, land grabs, and violence, while baseball, has as its purpose, that most wonderful of sentiments of coming home.  According to Carlin, “In football the object is for the quarterback, also known as the field general, to be on target with his aerial assault, riddling the defense by hitting his receivers with deadly accuracy in spite of the blitz, even if he has to use shotgun. With short bullet passes and long bombs, he marches his troops into enemy territory, balancing this aerial assault with a sustained ground attack that punches holes in the forward wall of the enemy's defensive line.  In baseball the object is to go home! And to be safe! - I hope I'll be safe at home!” 
    Safe at home.  Humanity holds fewer sentiments as more precious.  Our homes, our abodes, if we are fortunate enough to have one, are often our sanctuaries, providing comfort, shelter, and a place for us to find meaning and identity, rest and family interaction.  For many, the home is sacred, and can, in the words of Mark Twain, become a place of “heart and soul,” lived in with, “grace and in the peace of its benedictions.”  It is not an accident that our single largest governmental organization is called the Department of Homeland Security.  Individually and corporately we are deeply invested in protecting what we consider to be our understanding of home.  So home is not always so much a physical place as a spiritual one.  
    But this morning let us consider not an actual physical home, but rather see home as a metaphor for what it means to feel welcome in this world.  We know that people with a stable home, can feel spiritually and emotionally homeless.  And conversely, someone without such stability, that frequently moves around, can feel a sense of home in the soul.  
    When Jesus teaches his disciples about the notion of welcome, he reveals how important welcome is for him.  Scholars are not clear what Jesus precisely means when he talks about welcoming prophets, righteous persons, or little ones.  But what is obvious is that Jesus calls his followers to a disposition of welcome toward others.  Rather than treat others with a spirit of distance or apathy or antagonism for that matter, we are called to a disposition of welcome, no matter who that other person is righteous or a “little one.”  These exhortations are part of a larger section of Matthew’s gospel called the “missionary discourse.”  Jesus knew that as he sent his followers our to share Gospel love, they would depend on the welcome of others.  That is why he claims, “whoever welcomes you (you meaning His disciple), welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.”      
    But we also know the ideal of being safe at home, as Carlin called it, is for many, nothing more than an ideal.  And that may just be why Jesus calls us to welcome others—to help them find a sense of home.  For many in this world, their homes are dilapidated, overcrowded, unsafe, and uncomfortable.  For others, homes are enclaves of sinful activity like violence and abuse, or narcotic laboratories.  Broken homes and families sometimes seem like they are becoming the rule rather than the exception.  Still others do not have a home.  Homeless, internally displaced, exiles, and refugees worldwide represent a significant cross-section of the global population.  These are individuals and families with no place to call home—no stable sense of comfort, shelter, or place.  What a gift it is, especially for such folks, to be offered welcome—a taste of home.
    The Psalmist alludes to the importance of our human need for a home, “Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she lay her young at your altars, O Lord of hosts” (Psalm 84: 3).  A welcome home, I believe is important.  And a collective moral imperative exists for citizens of the Earth to provide the possibility of a home for each other.  But as Jesus’ followers, we are also given an imperative to live in a way that helps make others feel that spiritual sense of home.  
    This morning, I raise for us rhetorical questions for pondering.  Questions we might consider in light of our passage.  1) Are we finding a welcome home for our souls in this world?  2) And if not, what is preventing that?  3) Are we extending that a sense of welcome to others?  4) As individuals and as a congregation?
    The thing about being welcoming, it is requires soul energy.  It is always easier to ignore others than to engage them.  That is way people often decide to shut out others, why churches, even well-intentioned ones, turn out to be not very welcoming.  It is why it is easy to default to a posture of suspicion toward others before we know them.  And it is why nations, sometimes take up postures with no sense of welcome.  But Scripture has a different call for us.  In it, Jesus calls us to be welcoming as individuals: “and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you—non of these lose their reward.  Scripture convicts us to be welcoming as a community of faith.  It calls us to be welcoming as a church: “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,” (Matthew 25).  And scripture even calls on nations to provide welcome to strangers and those of other nations: “So show your love for foreigners, for you were foreigners in the land of Egypt,” (Deuteronomy 10).
    Let us sit with those questions this week.  Let us meditate on them.  Are we finding home for our souls in this world?  If not, what might we do differently to find welcome?  And, Are we extending welcome to others and individuals and a church?  You have heard me point out the social phenomenon that churches are often the most segregated communities in society.  But churches are called to welcome—even to people of different ilks.  We are called to the kingdom work of welcoming others.  And yes, as a church, we must have reasonable and healthy boundaries to preserve the well-being of the community.  We are not called to be taken advantage of or walked over by others, but we are called to help make this place, this community, a welcoming home for all who earnestly desire to share in it.
    Perhaps the application of Jesus’ instruction about welcome, it best illustrated by the words of twentieth century faith activist, Dorothy Day: “A custom existed among the first generations of Christians, when faith was a bright fire that warmed more than those who kept it burning. In every house then a room was kept ready for any stranger who might ask for shelter; it was even called “the stranger’s room.” Not because these people thought they could trace something of someone they loved in the stranger who used it, not because the man or woman to whom they gave shelter reminded them of Christ, but because—plain and simple and stupendous fact—he or she was Christ.” 
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.
]]><![CDATA[Need-Based Love - Luke 7: 36-50]]>Fri, 24 Jun 2016 14:10:21 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/need-based-love-luke-7-36-50A couple of weeks ago, we looked at the Luke passage from scripture exhorting us to be ready and keep our lamps lit—because in life, we never know when the master will be back for the wedding banquet—stated otherwise, we don’t know when God’s grace will break into our lives.  We considered the ways that we spiritually procrastinate, keeping us unready to embrace those instances.  Many of us know the desire to journey more deeply through life, to take as author M. Scott Peck calls it, The Road Less Traveled.  And yet, we find a multitude of reasons to stay on the easy road—which by the way, ends up not being as easy as it first looks.  This week, we look more at the spiritual engagement we are invited not to put off.  What might it look like to seize the spiritual opportunities of life?  But before going any further…
Let us pray: Grant us the courage to ask for help and the wisdom to accept it, O God.  Teach us with sacred story and Spirit.  May they fill the God-sized hole in each of our souls, readying us for the fulfillment of the sacred journey.  And now, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer. Amen.    
     We are broken.  At least that is what our religious tradition tells us.  But if we look at the world around us or could gaze in a mirror with the power to reflect our souls, it may only confirm that notion.  We are people and sometimes people do things like hurt each other.  Sometimes we are gloriously inconsistent and make questionable decisions.  We may struggle at one time or another with feeling unsure, apathetic, fearful, fatalistic, or lost.  We are all inhabited by an ego that loves leading us astray.  The garden story from Genesis sets the tone for considering our brokenness, using deep myth to explain our propensity to disobey God.  The result of that brokenness is banishment from the fantastic life Eden has to offer.  To be sure, the Christian tradition often uses the word sin, to describe our condition and actions that lead us away from God’s goodness.  Sometimes that word appropriately describes it.  But when Christians start calling each other or those who do not consider themselves Christian sinners, it does more harm than good.  The word is used to demonize, obscuring the good and image of God within us that we want to draw out.  Sin, remember, is not always born out of evil intent but rather a byproduct of brokenness.  But the good news is that regardless of our nature, God loves us still.
    Renowned storyteller Kevin Kling captures this in one of his tales: “Back in the days when pots and pans could talk, which indeed they still do, there lived a man. And in order to have water, every day he had to walk down the hill and fill two pots and walk them home. One day, it was discovered one of the pots had a crack, and as time went on, the crack widened. Finally, the pot turned to the man and said, ‘You know, every day you take me to the river, and by the time you get home, half of the water’s leaked out. Please replace me with a better pot.’ And the man said, ‘You don’t understand. As you spill, you water the wild flowers by the side of the path.” And sure enough, on the side of the path where the cracked pot was carried, beautiful flowers grew, while other side was barren. ‘I think I’ll keep you,’ said the man.”
    We are broken but God values us anyway and knows that we can help water flowers around us analogous to Eden’s flora.  In fact, it is precisely through our brokenness that we may find wholeness and help others do the same.  Henri Nouwen talks about a “wounded healer” in his book with the same title, and the idea is attributed to Carl Jung but may have its origins in Greek mythology.  A wounded healer is someone who may be better able to help another heal because of already experiencing a wound.  It may lead to an ability to empathize of understand in a way that someone unwounded may not.  And certainly, when we acknowledge our brokenness, we take the first necessary step toward healing.  The good news of our Lord is that even though we are broken and experience brokenness, through grace, through God’s willingness become human and experience great spiritual and physical wounds, God empathizes with us and understands us.  And through God’s amazing love, we are offered restoration.   
    In our gospel passage that Trancito read, Jesus eats in the home of a man who likely did not come across as broken.  He was an educated church leader who welcomed Jesus into his home.  The Gospels often report Pharisees exhibiting self-righteousness.  And it makes sense.  They are not only learned, but steeped in the knowledge of God’s law.  They possess social status.  We may get an impression from the Gospels that Pharisees were not good people.  I suspect some were and others not so much.  But as Jesus’ contemporaries, they were considered by many as paragons of faith, which is what makes our Gospel story so intriguing.  This morning, we hear a Pharisee being juxtaposed with a sinful woman—a person with little social status.  Being a woman was strike one and being labeled a sinner was strike two.  Remember what I said earlier about designating people as sinners, because Jesus ends up exalting her.  And Simon the Pharisee is perplexed.  He asks himself, “‘If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what kind of woman this is who is touching him—that she is a sinner.’ 
    I suspect Jesus knew precisely what Simon was thinking.  If you are the distinguished guest in someone of high repute’s home, and an uninvited sinner enters and begins bathing your feet in her tears, while kissing them and applying very expensive alabaster ointment, it is probably noticed.  Pharisees are portrayed as ordered and rule-abiding, and the woman’s actions appear spontaneous and unconventional, not to mention socially inappropriate.  But Jesus interprets the situation by posing a riddle to the Pharisee.  He tells Simon, ‘A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42When they could not pay, he cancelled the debts for both of them. Now which of them will love him more?’ 43Simon answered, ‘I suppose the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘You have judged rightly.’
    The implication?  Yes, in the eyes of the world, the woman was in need of greater restoration than the Pharisee.  But rather than demonizing her as a sinner, Jesus recognizes that because of her brokenness, her loving actions toward him reveal a profound capacity to love him and experience gratitude for his love.  In fact, Jesus explains that her actions outdo those of the religiously superior Simon.  ‘Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has bathed my feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. 45You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not stopped kissing my feet. 46You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which were many, have been forgiven; hence she has shown great love. But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.’  The pot with the biggest crack has the greatest capacity to water the ground over which it passes—does it not?
Jesus makes it sound like love for him is proportion to how much people perceive needing it.  The Pharisee did not need Jesus as much as the woman did.  He had a home, an education, he was a he, and a leader in the church.  She was a she and a sinner.  But Jesus’ love for her fit her deep need.  Her love was need based.  But a more subtle implication of the passage is that we all need restoration.  Even the Pharisee—even the debtor with less debt still needs to cover the debt.  Jesus may have been teaching the righteous, the wealthy, and the wise who heard the Gospel, that they too are broken and in need of God’s love.  He may still be teaching that to us.
    A church member lent me a book called Falling Upward—A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, by renowned spiritual writer, and Albuquerque local, Richard Rohr.  I am only a little ways in, but have picked up that the premise of Rohr’s book is that, “there are at least two main tasks to human life.  The first task is to build a strong ‘container’ or identity; the second is to find the contents that the container was meant to hold,’ (Pg. xiii).  Rohr contends that most people put their effort in working to make a strong personal and social identity.  We want a container that gives us currency and conveys togetherness, success, and security.  But our spiritual calling goes beyond that and requires deeper contemplation.  That is what we do when we probe more deeply than appearances.  
    When our focus is not what the world sees but on the soul that God sees, we find ourselves on the right track when it comes to realizing that God gives meaning and purpose to the contents of the container that is our identity.  And if we recognize that our containers are broken in several places, and we tend spiritually to that brokenness, we then find ourselves ready to be filled with God’s love—we find ourselves on that deeper path.  Some of that love may leak out before we are fully restored, but God’s response is clear.  To each one of us as individuals, with our small and large cracks, and to our loving but imperfect faith community, God reassures us: “‘You don’t understand. As you spill, you water the wild flowers by the side of the path.’ And sure enough, on the side of the path where [I] carried [you], beautiful flowers grew… ‘I think I’ll keep you.’”
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.
]]><![CDATA[Faith Procrastination - Luke 12: 35-40]]>Sun, 29 May 2016 14:13:44 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/faith-procrastination-luke-12-35-40Let us pray: Tear back the veil of mystery that separates us from you, O Lord.  And grant us the courage to draw near.  With the power of your Word and Spirit, guide us through the fear that divides, and lead us into love that bridges holy union with you and your purposes.  And now, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sought, O Lord our Rock and our Redeemer.  Amen.  
    The idea for today’s sermon came to me many months ago, but true to the subject matter, I finished it this morning.  Today we celebrate the graduations of friends and members of this community who, in their academic triumphs, have inevitably learned a thing or two about procrastination.  We have all been there: soaring in the clouds of noble intentions to begin a project, only to find ourselves starting the work due to a the haunting persistence of a looming deadline. 
    Blogger Tim Urban playfully describes the brain of a procrastinator with illustrations in his recent Ted Talk.  He explains, aided with the projection of childlike drawings, that each mind has a “rational decision-maker” inside of it.  This is characterized as a stick figure behind the steering wheel of a boat.  It makes rational decisions about where to steer us.  And normally, that rational decision-maker leads us to get started on time for our work.  But, Urban says in the mind of a procrastinator, is also an “instant gratification monkey,” which he portrays with a cute drawing of a monkey.  The instant-gratification monkey continually distracts us and prevents us from getting to work because it always chooses what is easy and fun.  The problem however, is when the mind gives in to the whims of the monkey, a person finds himself at play on the “dark playground.”  The dark playground isn’t really fun because it is unearned play, and it is fun filled with guilt, dread, anxiety, and self-hatred—all of those good procrastinator feelings.  
What then eventually causes the instant gratification monkey to knock it off and allow the rational decision-maker to take on the hard work that moves us forward?  So it turns out, Urban holds, that procrastinators have a guardian angel called a “panic monster.”  The monster is dormant most of the time, but wakes up when a deadline comes, and it happens to be the only thing the instant-gratification monkey is afraid of.  The panic monster scares the monkey enough to let the rational decision-maker get us to work.  After creating this scenario to describe how our minds procrastinate, Urban shows a large picture filled with thousands of tiny boxes he calls a life calendar—4,680 boxes to be precise.  He describes each box as one week in the life of someone who lives for ninety years—which is ambitious, since the current expected life span in the Unites States is closer to eighty.  He closes his presentation on procrastination by saying with regards to the life calendar: “It’s not that many boxes, especially since we have already used a bunch of [them].  I think we all need to take a long hard look at that calendar, we need to think about what we are really procrastinating on because everyone is procrastinating on something in life.  We need to stay aware of the instant gratification monkey.  That’s a job for all of us.  And because there are not that many boxes on there, that’s a job that should probably start today.  Well, maybe not today, ya know, but sometime soon.”   
    Procrastination is a word often associated with academic and work deadlines, but today, I am using it in relationship to faith.  Like other areas of our lives, faith is something that many tend to procrastinate.  That goes for people active within churches as it does for those without a faith community.  There is a common phenomenon of people who find value in being a part of a worship community ducking out for a stretch of life because it is easy to put off.  Maybe they stop going to church in college and then come back to raise the children in the church.  Someone in those circumstances might say, life is going great now and is full, so I do not need a community until something changes with my current situation—definitely when I get older.  But there are also those of us in the church also procrastinate.  We may attend, listen, pray, and enjoy fellowship, but we do so from a spiritual distance.  We see the value of the wisdom of scripture and the importance of community, but we still find ourselves not really engaging them or the rest of our lives as a spiritual journey.    
    Today is less about putting off going church as it is putting of engaging the spiritual depth of life and faith.  The procrastination involves skimming across the surface of the deep stuff and getting comfortable sitting on the metaphorical spiritual sidelines.  I of course am one to advocate for the value of being a part of a healthy faith community.  It can provide important elements that lead to an abundant life and things that our spirits need: community, a sense of belonging, an ethos of caring for others, and a perspective that the reality is so much bigger than each of our personal realities.  But, today, I am most concerned about addressing a type of faith procrastination that our instant-gratification monkey can make us all fall prey to.  In Romans, the book of scripture that Kay led many of us through on Wednesday’s, Paul might call it choosing to live in the flesh, while procrastinating life in the Spirit. Some might call it, choosing to live deeply rather than superficially.  It could be called living abundantly rather than living unfulfilled.  Author James Hollis, in his book, Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life: How to Finally Really Grow Up considers procrastination, when it comes to big life stuff, as an evasive tactic to avoid our fear of being overwhelmed by the world.  He believes that many of us as children, we are taught to believe the world is too big and powerful for us, so we develop protective stances.  
    In the passage that Ron read this morning, we learn about how scripture addresses this spiritual issue of faith procrastination.  For those with a grasp of the liturgical calendar, you may recognize our passage as an Advent text.  It seems like every year, we hear a Gospel lesson in late November or early December that tells us to be ready—be ready for the birth of the Christ-child.  But our text and ones like it, remind us of a fundamental aspect of the Christian faith.  Our passage from Luke is surrounded by a section in which Jesus gives exhortations and warnings.  In it, he teaches his disciples, and anyone who would listen, important life and faith teachings.  And he often delivers with his teachings helpful one-liners that we can keep with us.  Phrases like: Do not worry about your life… can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?, or, ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”                       
    And the one for today is, “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit… You…must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”  That is a consistent aspect of the faith when the Christian church formed.  We are to live watchful and ready for God to come again.  Now this could mean a final coming at the end of time.  But it normally may be best understood and being ready for the ways that God breaks into our lives all of the time.  Maybe we are presented with a special opportunity in life, or grace and forgiveness, or maybe God extends us a blessing, or gives us guidance, but if we are not ready, not paying attention—if we are too wrapped up in ourselves, our pursuits or our fears, we will miss it.  I believe we miss divinely granted opportunities, grace, blessings, and guidance all the time because we are not being watchful.  
    So how can we best be watchful?  How can we be dressed for action and keep our lamps lit?  Much like we might approach trying to live with less worry or living without fear, we practice.  Faith does not come as a lucky shot in the dark.  Faith comes through humble effort and practice.  We have to work at it.  God may break into our lives simply because of God’s love and goodness.  But for us to behold the blessing, we have to be ready.  We have to tend to the work of faith.  I am reminded of a line from the American classic novel, A River Runs Through it.  Speaking of his Presbyterian Minister father, the narrator states, “To him, all good things - trout as well as eternal salvation - came by grace; and grace comes by art; and art does not come easy.”
    Two of the strongest motivators in life are fear and genuine desire.  A little fear can be a good thing, but too many in the church have used fear over the centuries as a manipulative motivator—used in ways that ignores the love and grace of Christ.  But fear also motivates when we experience a serious life disruption and the floor seemingly falls out from under us.  This could be precipitated by a sickness, conflict, or a loss—or when unexpected troubles assail us or someone we love.  These times can propel us toward God and community for help.  But there is something to be said for not putting of turning to faith.  Even when life is good, Jesus says, be ready.  Be ready every day to experience grace and blessing and to share it with the world around us. 
    If there is something you are procrastinating with regards to your faith journey, or if you are putting off really getting on a faith journey in the first place.  There is no time like the present.  Don’t be held back by fears or old hurts or the overwhelming sense of this world.  And we don’t even have to be scared into action by the panic monster—or a fear of death or of hell.  There is an ethic and essence to faith that calls us to choose life, abundance, hope, goodness, connection, and love—and share it non-stop.  We can put off things until it is too late.  Or, we can “Be dressed for action and have [our] lamps lit.”  Not because we are scared as hell that God may show up, but because we are excited that God is with us on an unforgettable journey!
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 
]]><![CDATA[A Pentecost Church - Acts 2: 1-21]]>Sun, 15 May 2016 14:17:01 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/a-pentecost-church-acts-2-1-21    Let us Pray: Link us Lord with our brothers and sisters at Pentecost some two thousand years before. Not by ideology, culture, or theology, but by the same Spirit. Fill us with your Spirit by blowing the words of scripture right off the page and into our hearts. And now, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen. 
    The Holy Spirit—that great force, being, reality that Anna just attested to from Scripture, often elusively escapes our purview. As far as its role as a member of the Trinity, in most main line churches God as the sustaining Holy Spirit undoubtedly plays the third-wheel role to God the Creator and God the Redeemer.  According to the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, “The church has always tended toward bitarianism, worshiping the Father and the Son while regarding the Spirit as a marginal member of the Holy Trinity,” (Volume X, Pg. 57.)
    Look no further than a foundational creed of the church universal for evidence. Our church recites no creed more frequently than the Apostle’s Creed/el credo apostolico. The Trinitarian creed begins, “I believe in God the Father Almighty” and describes what God the Father Almighty does. It continues, “I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son our Lord.” That statement identifies yet another role of God the Creator as the parent of the Son, and follows with a significant description of who God the Son is and what he does. Then, the creed continues, “I believe in the Holy Spirit. We say we believe in the Spirit, the Holy Spirit who…? The Holy Spirit that…?”  Nothing.  The creed says nothing about who or what the Spirit is. It continues pronouncing belief in the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, and so forth. 
    Whether or not the Holy Spirit gets its due in mainline churches, the Spirit remains hard at work. It keeps blowing where it will. It continues to guide, impact, inspire, and move individuals and communities. And it makes sense that the Spirit often flies below the radar. The Spirit is enigmatic, perplexing, difficult to discern, and impossible to control. Its work is often untidy which is unsettling to us sometimes uber-organized Presbyterians.  I once heard a speaker characterize Christian churches as communities full of rowers.  The Spirit however, works best it when infiltrates and guides communities willing to let go of the paddles and set the sails. 
    In her commentary on the book of Acts, Beverly Gaventa posits further explanation as to why the Spirit is ignored. Gaventa holds that the Spirit leads on a “journey that takes travelers beyond domestic borders into unfamiliar territory where passports are invalid and embassies afford little protection.” She continues, “Travelers,” those on the Christian journey, “who desire the predictability of an interstate highway system where all roads look alike and every interchange features three gas stations and two fast-food stores will find [the] journey more closely [resembling] A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” (Acts, Pg. 25). 
    Today, Pentecost Sunday, we recognize that fateful day two thousand years ago when, “suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.” In that time and place, the promise of the coming of the Holy Spirit recorded in the Old Testament was fulfilled. Clergyman and author Will Willemon calls that Pentecost day in Jerusalem a church “classic, a story to which the faith community assigns authority and to which it returns again and again as a guide for its life. Here is revealed what the community is by recounting its origin in a powerful work of the Spirit. Sometimes the story has given the church hope; sometimes this story has judged the church and found it wanting” (Interpretation: Acts, Pg. 29).
    Often times, Pentecost is called the birthday of the church. This presumes that Pentecost set in motion the spreading of the established church in Jerusalem moving out into the rest of the world.  Matthew Skinner is a New Testament professor who I spoke not too long ago at our Presbytery.  Dr. Skinner led us on a brief journey through Acts that helped us rethink and consider deeper dimensions of the work of the Spirit.  What will remain with me from his presentation was his assertion that many mainline churches miss the boat on Pentecost Sunday.
    For Skinner, the mainline tendency is to celebrate Pentecost as the birthday of the church, by looking back at the event through the eyes of nostalgia. Worship may try to reenact or recreate what happened two thousand years ago and ceremoniously lift it up as an important date in the past that the church cherishes in the present. So, the obvious question for him is, “How then should churches acknowledge Pentecost?” His answer: Pentecost worship is about testifying to what the Spirit is doing now—today!  Pentecost two thousand years ago is a testimony of how the Spirit worked miraculously among a diverse group of people at that time and place, and what behooves the church to recognize, is that the same Spirit that made that happen, is still at work. 
     What happened after the Spirit descended?  The apostles set out and took the church out of the comfortable confines of Jerusalem and preached the good news all around the Mediterranean world. What they found out, was when the security of the organized church was far off, they had to rely on the Spirit. When they preached the good news at Antioch or in Rome, they relied on the Spirit to interpret the message into the contexts of the non-Jewish world.  
      Pentecost showed them that the good news of God’s love, forgiveness, and compassion is translatable to all people and cultures.  As Peter began preaching what some call, the first church Sermon, and interpreting the Pentecost event, he quotes the book of Joel which foretold the coming of the Spirit and encapsulates God’s inclusive Spirit. Just think, in a highly stratified, male-dominated society, the prophet Joel highlights how the Spirit of God will fall upon all flesh. He includes men and women, young and old, slave and free. 
    How can it be that this Spirit of Pentecost is so often overlooked by the church today? When a church or a denomination operates with rigidity, no room is left for the Spirit. When dogma, tradition, or church systems become unbending, the no room is left for the Spirit to blow. That is why it has been said: “Tradition is tending the flame. Not worshiping the ashes.” 
    When the Apostles moved away from the center of established tradition, and relied on the Spirit, they saw beyond the borders of tradition. They discovered that those uncircumcised could become Christians, and that those who did not follow the standard religious eating habits of the time could become Christians too. So could an Ethiopian eunuch from another nation.  Their worlds were opened up to new understandings and realities.  And the Holy Spirit became a corrective for the church in Jerusalem—illumining the hard to swallow truth that when the organized church squeezes out the Holy Spirit, the Spirit finds other places to work until the organized church sees the error of its ways and lets it back in.  
    A noted Christian author recently quipped that if a church is to thrive in the twenty-first century, it will look more like the early church of the first century more than the church of the twentieth century. For churches to remain vital, they may no longer rest on the laurels of privilege in society.  Today’s disciples and apostles are called to listen; to go where the Spirit blows within our community and the world.   
    One of the deepest satisfactions I have experienced in twelve and a half years as Pastor of la sugunda iglesia presbiteriana, is to watch the Spirit of God at work.  In a mainline church, with a rich history, a church sociologist would dawn our doors and tell us that statistically speaking, we should be declining.  We should be set in our ways; locked in our steps.  And that would be understandable.  This congregation has a lot to celebrate in its past and our tradition is one to behold.   But God’ Spirit clearly has had other plans for this community.  I am surprised how often, out of a deep faith, members and friends of the church are willing to set down the oars of rowing and hoist the sails.  Our openness to the Spirit has changed the ethos of the community and taken us on a new course that does not align with the typical mainline nautical direction.  I will hold back from listing the impressive list of this church’s accomplishments so we do not dream of becoming comfortable with where we are.  But without a doubt, the Spirit has led our church to more shared leadership, more spontaneity, and more focus outside the walls of our building.  Thanks be to God! 
    Can you imagine the Pentecost event being planned by a church committee?  The session forms a Pentecost Task Force.  How in the world could plan an event of that magnitude?  I can just imagine the discussion: We’re going to need to pick a windy day.  My Iphone weather app says the wind will be strong on the 23rd.  Whose going to do the translating between all the languages?  I haven’t spoken Pamphilian for years.  And there is no body in the congregation that speaks Phrygian.  What are we going to do?  And whose house should we have the Pentecost in?  Wilma’s house would be perfect.  Yeah but she hosts all of the nig events.  And who is going to feed all of those people.  We still have some frozen casseroles from the last potluck.  But Wilma’s oven isn’t working.  Who will preach and interpret the event?  And where are we going to get the tongues of fire? Maybe the youth group will work on that.  My point of course is that the Spirit leads and guides in ways that we cannot plan.            
    I want to be abundantly clear with the take-home importance of today’s message.  The Holy Spirit is still at work.  The Spirit is blowing and breathing, “Spirit” in Hebrew is the same word as breath-ruach.  The Spirit is poised to be breathed into our lives and continue to be breathed into the community.  May we allow it to work in our lives!  May we let it chart our courses and trust as it takes us in directions we never could have imagined!  The fiery tongues of Pentecost have since left ashes two thousand years before.  May we not nostalgically worship those ashes, but tend the flame that continues to burn bright.
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and thanks be to the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

]]><![CDATA[Setting the Tone - John 17: 20-26]]>Sun, 08 May 2016 14:19:42 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/setting-the-tone-john-17-20-26    This morning we will consider the importance of tone.  Not specifically musical tone, although that is related.  I am talking also about the tone set in a situation.  It may not be something that we very often think about in the context of faith.  But, it behooves us to take time to meditate on the issue of tone, because in life, we too frequently underestimate its importance.  You may have heard it said, that how you say something is as or more important that what you actually say.  That idea calls to mind the words of Maya Angelou, ““I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”  It is also consistent with twentieth century American author Dorothy Parker’s command, “Don’t look at me with that tone of voice.”  How the tone is set and communicated in almost any situation will inevitably impact the situation’s trajectory.  Tone directs the present and the future.  But before going any further, let’s set the tone for the sermon with prayer:
    Through the ages, you’ve spoken to your people O Lord through loud claps of thunder with torrential rains and in a still small voice.  Speak to us know by your Word and Spirit through the timeless words of scripture.  May your voice become our voices in our thoughts, words, and deeds.  And now, may the words of my mouth and the meditation of all of our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer.  Amen.
    There has been a lot of mention of flowers this morning.  Flowers are a nice example of tone setters.  For example, they may be given given at the beginning of a date to establish a good vibe.  Guests take flowers to hostesses of get-togethers.   Flowers are often placed in the sanctuary before a memorial service to create a sense of beauty and comfort.  I know someone in this congregation who gives his wife a dozen roses every single Friday.  I will not tell you his name since he is making a lot of us look bad.  Flowers are just one way.  We use our dress, our mannerisms, our voices and the content of what we say to intentionally set a tone.  We do it in a job interview, meeting someone for the first time, or any of a plethora of situations in the public domain.  In such instances, we seek to set a good tone.  Here at church, we set the tone on Sunday morning.  Good morning, Buenos dias, como estas?  But as we consider our theme, might we become more aware of the many places in our lives that we may set a tone and not even realize it.
    A show of hands: who has at least once, has been the lay leader on a Sunday morning?  I am well aware that for many it is an honor.  I am also aware that serving as the Sunday morning lay leader can for some, evoke nervousness.  Some may relish the opportunity to speak publicly, but for many, but regularly on surveys, people identify public speaking as more anxiety producing than snakes.  A lay leader blesses our worship by leading prayer and reading scripture.  But the lay leader does something every single Sunday, and perhaps, much of the time, completely unaware he or she is doing it.  The lay leader sets the tone of the passage.  What do I mean?  Even without having to preach a sermon, the lay leader is an interpreter of the scripture…because lay leaders interpret passages by the way they are read.  It is a way of setting the tone.  
    Allow me to explain.  With the sacred scripture that has been handed down, we have words that were originally scribed in Hebrew, Greek or Aramaic.  Those words are then translated into English which is an arduous and imprecise process. But then comes the interpretive role of the lay leader.  Though we have this book, what we do not have, is the tone of voice intended by the writers.  Our interpretive role is to put a tone to the passages we read.  Have you ever thought about that before?  I had a seminary professor emphasize that as important as the words read from the Bible on a Sunday morning is the way in which they are read.  So imagine, you may have been nervous enough all ready to be a lay leader, not you realize you are an interpreter also.  Solema, you did great!  
    An example from a well-known passage—the prodigal coming back to his father after realizing he had squandered his inheritance and that his life prospects were abysmal.  I will read it twice with two different tones of voice: “But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.’ 20So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’”  The tone paints a picture about the intentions of the prodigal. 
    It is not only scripture that sets a tone in a church.  The community sets a tone with how we welcome visitors and how we interact with each other on Sunday mornings and in the work we do together.  Tone is such a powerful entity.  A poor tone can raise tensions between the best of friends and exacerbate them between enemies.  Even countries set tones in their political relationships.  Tone setting is everywhere.  And then there is the impact tone has in our own lives.  What is the tone we are projecting not only to others, but even to ourselves?  
    In his article “How to set the tone for your day,” Pastor Mark Altrogge raises the question: what is the first thing you think about when you wake up?  Do you have thoughts like: Oh great, another miserable cold day.  These kids are driving me crazy.  I have to meet with my boss today.  I hate my job.  This house is such a mess.  I have so much to study before my final.  I am so tired.  Need coffee!”  The beginning of the day, he asserts, is the best time to set the tone.  The morning is a prime time to thank God for sleep, for the day to come, and for the host of blessings in our lives.  It is a time to set a tone of thanks that can impact the entire day.  The morning is where we decide grumpy or grateful.         
    The passage that Solema and I read from John is a portion of what biblical scholars refer to as the “farewell discourse.”  Jesus is about to sacrificially give his life, setting the tone of eternal love.  But before that fate, he prays and teaches for his disciples in order to set the tone for their life without him in the flesh.  In the chapter before, he assures them and us that the Holy Spirit will be present as a guide.  And in today’s text, Jesus prays, “‘Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. 26I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.’”
    Jesus prays in our passage that the community that would become the church might live in unity and love.  And how does he suggest we might do that?  According to The New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, “The unity for which Jesus prays is not intrinsic to the community itself, but derives from the primal unity of the Father and Son.  For the community to be ‘one’ means that they mirror the Father/Son relationship,” (Volume 9. Pg. 794-795.)  Perhaps, the most commonly used metaphor to describe God is as a loving parent.  Yes, the Bible was written in a more male dominated period, but God is also described in scripture as a mother—a motherly hen that surrounds her brood with her wings.  How apropos for Mother’s Day!  The tone for our faith is described as one of living out the sacrificial love of a parent.  As a scripture reader, as a member of this community, as a member of this society, and as we seek to grow personally on our journeys, we can seek to set a tone of giving, or love and of unity.  Heaven knows the earth is exceedingly short on that tone.
    I leave you with a favorite quote about tone setting: “Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions, they become habits. Watch your habits, they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.”  How we set the tone in our lives has a lot to do with how we live them.  That is true for our personal lives, our families, and wider communities, and our church.  May our daily thoughts, words, actions, habits, characters, and destinies be based in the sacrificial love.  It will make for better days and it will make us part of a wider team working together to set a better tone for the world we live in.
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.
]]><![CDATA[Release - John 5: 1-9]]>Sun, 01 May 2016 14:23:38 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/release-john-5-1-9    Let us pray: Gracious God, help us not only to open our hearts and minds to your Scripture that we might better discern and understand your transforming word, but help us also by giving us the strength and will to respond.  And now, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer.  Amen.
     There are two pieces of advice that members of this congregation have shared time and again.  The first: “do not get old.” To which I usually respond, “I am not sure to follow your advice.”  The other recommendation came often since the birth of our children.  The advice, “Do not blink, or your children will grow up too fast.”  I tried to follow that advice and lasted about a minute.  Both pieces of advice relate to how quickly the years pass.  Just yesterday at our Presbyterian’s Men’s meeting, I asked a member of our church about how his children and grandchildren were doing.  He responded, “Roberto, those grandkids are growing so fast.”  To which I thought, maybe you should stop blinking, but I did not say that.
    I imagine that the man sitting at the healing pool for thirty eight years was wondering where all the years had gone?  And lamenting how little there was to show for those years.  Today’s story of healing from the Gospel according to John is a story about how we can be released from spiritual and psychological ruts.  Jesus comes upon a natural pool called “Beth-zatha,” renowned for its healing powers.  Its older name was “Bethesda,” which is why so many hospitals have that name.  It was believed that the pool would occasionally bubble and that the first person in would be healed of an affliction—so the story goes.  One can only imagine the melee when the pool began to bubble: the blind listening for the sounds from the direction of where to run and the paralyzed crying out for assistance.
      As Jesus approaches the pool, he encounters a man who has been ill for at least thirty eight years.  Through the eyes of this forty-one year old, that seems like a long time to be suffering.  Often in healing stories that we encounter in the gospels, someone approaches Jesus asking for help—they reach for his cloak or plead for his intervention.  In this case, Jesus approaches the man and asks a question.  The question that he asks is not just for the man, but for anyone who is trapped in an unhealthy cycle that it is diminishing the quality of life and faith: “Do you want to be made well?”
“Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.”  Reading into his response, it is conceivable that the man may not have wanted to get better.  He may have grown accustomed to his condition, and beyond accustomed maybe even comfortable.
    In the words of one preacher, “Note that he doesn’t say, ‘of course I want to be healed.  I’ve been here forever!’  No, the first thing out of his mouth is equivocation.  ‘I don’t have anyone to carry me to the water, so I never get there.’  Which might lead you to ask, ‘then why have you been hanging out there for thirty eight years?’…My guess is this: life at the pool was all he knew.  Life at the pool had become his way of being: a bit of pity, some attention, perhaps a little charity, and that’s where all his friends were.  It had become his life.  But he can’t say that of course so he offers an excuse.”
     Jesus is not convinced and will not take the indirect “no” that the man offers.  I can almost imagine Jesus wearing a shirt with the words: “No excuses,” printed on the front.  “Stand up, take your mat, and walk.”  He doesn’t waffle.  Nor does he wait for the Sabbath to end.  We know that healing on the Sabbath was prohibited by the law.  (By the way, if you keep reading on in the chapter that Don and I read, you discover that Jesus’s healing on the Sabbath only made the church authorities want to kill him more.)  Jesus doesn’t allow escape clauses or room for excuses to seep into his command.  For the man, the music that accompanied the thirty eight year dance around his issue stopped.  “Stand up, take your mat, and walk.”
    This story is for all experiencing paralyzed by unproductive thinking and detrimental habits.  Habits like falling into the trap of life by the pool.  A path to healing is right there by your side.  And you may even feel close to healing just by hanging around the healing waters, but they don’t work unless you take the plunge.  The story is about hanging out at the pool, stuck in dysfunctional ways of being, coming up with reasons why you can’t get in.
    You may remember the parable I shared with you that I learned in Guatemala.  A version of it also appears in the movie “The Pursuit of Happiness.”  A man finds himself and his pueblo in the midst of a storm.  The rains fall begin and do not cease.  A family pulls up in a car and offers to drive the man to safety.  “No thanks, I have faith that God will save me.”  The water level rises and someone in a boat paddles up to the man and offers to take him to safety.  “No thanks, I have faith that God will save me.”  Finally, the man has to climb to his roof because of the high water level.  A helicopter hovers over and drops a ladder down to the man.  “No thanks,” he yells, brushing aside the ladder, “I have faith that God will help me.”  A few hours later the man drowns.  After his death, he approaches God and cries, “Why did you not rescue me when I had faith in you?”  “I tried,” replied God.  “I sent you a car, a boat, and a helicopter, but you would not get into to any of them.”
    The story of the man taking up his mat reminds us that faith is not complete without our initiative.  Sure, our Presbyterian roots teach us that there is nothing we can do to earn God’s grace.  God’s gives it as a gift.  But, in order to be used, a gift must be accepted.  Salvation requires a little human agency even though the gift is from God. As much as we wish deep down that we can heal and find fulfillment without lifting a finger, the older we get, the more we realize that isn’t true.  Our unhealthy patterns, addictions, and dysfunctional relationships both in and outside our homes, become grooves off the track toward wholeness that we slip into.  We, like the man at the pool, begin to perceive the unhealthiness as normal and are unable to imagine a better way.
    There are times when we need healing help from God.  But this is not simply a personal faith matter.  The same goes for churches and other communities.  There are times when churches must submerge in the pool and consider new rituals.  Churches often do not desire change even when it is called for.  We are blessed that our community of faith is one that recognizes and often embraces the change.  We know that establishing a healthy pattern in one’s own life, or as a community, does not happen overnight.  And we know that if we do not change and adapt throughout life, we will find ourselves trapped and unable to live the abundant life God desires for us.  
    Last week in our sermon about love, I mentioned the science behind falling in love.  Researchers have looked at brain chemistry of people in love and how chemicals kick in during the process.  This week I discovered that there is newer research about the brain when it comes to feeling trapped by things like stress and addiction.  It is the science of being stuck.  Scientists at the University of Minho in Portugal and the U.S. National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, Maryland examined the brain chemistry and behaviors of two sets of rats.  One set were rats that were confined to small spaces—trapped, while the other rats enjoyed freedom.  They discovered that the rats that were stressed tended rely on habitual actions to take care of their needs—even when those habits were not helpful.  Conversely, the rats free from stress became more creative and measured when it came to meeting their needs.  In both cases, the situations actually changed their brain chemistry.  The stressed out rats’ brains suppressed the parts of their brains that generated creativity and goal oriented behavior, while the unstressed rats grew new connections in their brains in the goal-oriented areas.  Stress suppresses creativity and can trap us into habitual behavior that keeps us in a rut.  It is a vicious cycle.  Looking at it that way, how we behave actually changes our brain chemistry over time.  So if we allegorically sit by the pool for 38 years and do not change our behavior, we are really stuck. 
    Scientist Andrew Newberg agrees.  In his book How God Changes your Brain, he argues through his research, that engaging in prayer and meditation, will over time, actually change your brain chemistry.  His finding include insights like: (1) contemplating a loving God rather than a punitive God reduces anxiety and depression and increases feelings of security, compassion, and love, (2) fundamentalism, in and of itself, can be personally beneficial, but the prejudice generated by extreme beliefs can permanently damage your brain, and that (3) intense prayer and meditation permanently change numerous structures and functions in the brain, altering your values and the way you perceive reality.  In an interview, he acknowledges that the brain does change over time as you change your practices.  That is why our rituals, church and otherwise, help shape who we are.  That is one of the great benefits of worship.  And that is why the worship committee tries to keep some repetition in our structure and style and at the same time, implement new rituals or slightly alter the ones we have.  The change keeps shaping our brains positively.
    When someone actually picks up their mat in a difficult situation and begins to walk a new path, like making the difficult step of leaving behind substance abuse, he or she has to work extra hard to keep doing new, positive, healthy rituals—so they can change the brain that has gotten stuck in one way of functioning.  It is ongoing hard work, but with a tremendous payoff.    
    Queridos hermanos y hermanas, all we have to do is blink and realize have fast the years are passing.  The Good News in our passage is that we are not helpless in making those good years.  We are called to live faithfully, committed, and determined in the direction Jesus calls us.  Taking up the mat is simply the first step of being released from that which would entrap us.  May we not be daunted by the task.  Remember the words of the text, “‘stand up, take your mat, and walk.’  At once, the man was made well.’”  Once we take that first step, we can take heart that someone will walk with us the rest of the way.  
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.
]]><![CDATA[True Love - John 13:31-35]]>Sun, 24 Apr 2016 14:32:56 GMThttp://www.secondpresabq.org/sermons/true-love-john-1331-35    In the passage that Mary and I just read, Jesus calls his disciples, “Little children.”  And as we hear his admonition, since we too are his disciples, the designation is for us.  In his teachings and actions, Jesus held a special place in his heart for children.  Despite being rebuked by church leaders when women brought their young ones to be blessed, he proclaimed, “Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” 
    Children have an innocence and vibrant perspective that is often profound.  We find delight in quips that come, “out of the mouth of babes.”  Their insights and innocence can enlighten jaded hearts.  My daughter’s pre-school teacher has a wonderful penchant for art and has the class regularly scribbling, sketching sculpting, and painting.  Last week, as I admired some of the classroom art on display, I saw a quote tacked to the wall attributed to the great Spanish artist Pablo Picasso.  It reads: “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.”
    In our passage, Jesus’ betrayer Judas has left the building.  Jesus knows he will be sold out by one of his own.  But rather than use the moment to spurn Judas and succumb, he tells his disciples to the darkness that awaits him, he uses that difficult moment to encourage.  He tells them he will only be with them a little longer.  He affectionately calls them children and orders them to love one another just as he loved them.  It is the crux of his legacy—a legacy that we are called to maintain through faith.
    Let us pray: Remove the daily dust that covers our eyes and hearts O God.  As we hear your eternal command to love, by your Word and Spirit, give us the faith and sight akin to that of a child’s so that we can be joyfully obedient.  And now, may the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all our hearts, be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer.  Amen.      
    Jesus calls us to love God, each other, our neighbors, and our enemies.  Seems like a pretty tall order.  Is it possible that Jesus’ command is merely a rhetorical exercise—an ideal to shoot for, but fully knowing that our self-interest, idiosyncrasies, and inconsistencies will always shatter the love ideal?  Could Jesus really have meant, “give love a shot, but don’t worry, I know I am being idealistic?”    
    Love is a wonderful ideal.  Our society’s notion carries a ring of purity and transcendence.  Love is heroic.  Love saves the day.  All you need is love.  But society also tells us that that even superheroes bleed, questions whether rather real love exists, and often ultimately points to watching our first and foremost for number one (over and about trusting in love.)  You will remember Paul McCartney singing “Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty-four?”  I was in Telluride, Colorado listening to the news on Paul McCartney’s sixty-fourth birthday, almost ten years ago.  I recall a reporter acknowledging the “When I’m 64,” lyrics and pointing out that upon turning 64, McCartney was in the midst of a messy divorce and going through a difficult time of his life.  The song was just an ideal.
    Today’s sermon title may evoke the notion of romantic love between two people.  Oh, falling in love.  It is the source of books and movies.  It causes family feuds and even wars.  Falling in love is powerful and I recommend that everyone try it at least once.  But, like other notions of love, we know it comes to an end—right?  It is popularly understood that you that falling involves a brain chemicals like oxytocin, serotonin, and vasopressin that help intensify that feeling of attachment and obsession that often occurs and makes the world a beautiful place.  
     But, queridos hermanos y hermanas, when Jesus calls us to love, I do not believe that he insinuates we should take a stab at an ideal.  Jesus calls us to love.  As he speaks to his disciples, he is not simply giving a pep-talk and then moving onto to the next town of the pep-talk circuit.  Jesus is about to be betrayed, turned over to authorities, and killed.  Jesus is about to model the type of love that he calls us to.  We might call it true love—love experienced by faith in the God of the universe.  It is a love predicated upon what Jesus is about to demonstrate: sacrifice.  It is a love that may contain the excitement and exhilaration and even euphoria of the popular notions of love—but it is a love that is eternal.
    The Hellenistic culture that Jesus lived in had different words for different kinds of love.  There was eros, philia, and storge.  C.S. Lewis wrote a book about them called The Four Loves.  In over-simplified terms, eros is romantic or erotic-based love.  Philia is love based on common bonds and values—think Philadelphia—the city of brotherly love—or as Lewis pointed out, the biblical friendship of David and Jonathan.  Storge is love based upon empathy and familiary—like familial bonds.  Those are three Greek words for love, but there is a fourth.  It is the same word that Jesus uses to admonish his disciples to love each other.  The word is agape.  I have heard it pronounced agape but my Greek teacher in seminary said agape and that we don’t really know precisely how the ancient Greeks pronounced words, so I imitate him.
    Agape is a higher love.  It is a love that persists in spite of changing circumstances and is concerned with the well-being of the other—even, over and above one’s own well-being.  This is the love that is at the heart of a healthy functioning community, family, or marriage.  It is a love that pulls us from self-interest to the interests of others.  This is the love that lasts—and in the eyes of scripture is eternal.  The Apostle Paul uses agape when calling love "patient and kind."  Homer uses the word ten times in his published writings.  The word appears 320 times in the New Testament.  It may be characterized as the most idealistic of the loves but as far as I am concerned, it is then the most amazing.  It is the confluence of ideal and reality.
    Our society classifies love as a feeling.  But we know that feelings rise and fall.  Some people spend their whole lives trying to maximize the feelings of comfort and euphoria—and that goal consciously or unconsciously drives all that they do.  But the love that Jesus calls his disciples to is not first a feeling, but a commitment.  Author Frederick Buechner corroborates this in his book, Beyond Words, 
“To say that God is love is either the last straw or the ultimate truth.  In the Christian sense, love is not primarily and emotion, but an act of the will.  When Jesus told us to love our neighbors, he is not telling us to love them in the sense of responding to them with a cozy emotional feeling…On the contrary, he is telling us to love our neighbors in the sense of being willing to work for their well-being even if it means sacrificing our own well-being to that end, even if it means sometimes just leaving them alone.  Thus in Jesus’ terms, we can love our neighbors without necessarily liking them.  In fact liking them may stand in the way of loving them by making us overprotective sentimentalists instead of reasonably honest friends,” (Pg. 231-232).

    Even though agape is “real,” to do it, to love with agape, it is necessary to trust like a child.  There is so much darkness out there to quell innocence.  But through faith, God helps us transcend those forces that exist out there, and in here.  A recognizable figure that promoted agape was Dr. King.  He used it to further justice.  In spite of all of the social ills, he never abandoned the ideal of a love that could foster transformation.   His message was always artfully and innocently weaved together the ideal of love with the harsh realities of the world.  In his final speech, he shared a vision of a renewed love and capacity for change:
    It’s all right to talk about “streets flowing with milk and honey,” but God has commanded us to be concerned about the slums down here, and God’s children who can’t eat three square meals a day. It’s all right to talk about the new Jerusalem, but one day God’s preacher must talk about the new New York, the new Atlanta, the new Philadelphia, the new Los Angeles, the new Memphis, Tennessee.
    The agape that Jesus leaves us with is awesome.  As we consider how we might further infuse our community, mission, lives, relationships and marriages with agape I leave you with a story from twentieth century Greek author Nikos Kazantzakis’ autobiographical work, A Report to Greco:
    “I knew that no matter what door you knock on in a Cretan village, it will be opened for you. A meal will be served in your honor and you will sleep between the best sheets in the house. In Crete the stranger is still the unknown god. Before him all doors and all hearts are opened.
    Night had already begun to descend as I entered the village. The doors were all shut; in the courtyard the dogs caught the intruder’s scent and began to bark. Where should I go, at which door should I knock? At the priest’s home, where all strangers find refuge. The priests in our village are uncultivated, their education meager; they are incapable of any theoretical discussion of Christian doctrine. But Christ lives in their hearts, and sometimes they see Him with their eyes, if not by the pillow of a wartime casualty, then sitting beneath a flowering almond tree in springtime.
    A door opened. A little old woman came out with a lamp in her hand to see who the stranger was who had entered the village at such an hour. I stopped. “Long may you live, madam,” I said, sweetening my voice so that she would not be frightened. “I am a stranger and have nowhere to sleep. Would you be so kind as to direct me to the priest’s house?”
“Gladly. I’ll hold the lamp so you won’t stumble. God-his holy name be blessed- gave soil to some, stones to others. Our lot was the stones. Watch your step and follow me.
She led the way with the lamp. We turned a corner and arrived at a vaulted doorway. A lantern was hanging outside.
“This is the priest’s house,” said the old woman.
Lifting the lamp, she threw the light on my face and sighed. She was going to say something but changed her mind.
“Thank you, my fine woman,” I said. “Sorry to bother you. Good night.”  She kept looking at me, not going away.
“If you wouldn’t mind a poor house, you could come and lodge with me.”
But I had already knocked on the priest’s door. I heard heavy steps in the yard.
The door opened. Standing in front of me was an old man with a snow-white beard and long hair flowing down over his shoulders. Without asking me who I was or what I wanted, he extended his hand.
“Welcome.  Are you a stranger? Come in.”
I heard voices as I entered. Doors opened and closed, and several women slipped down hastily into the adjoining room and vanished. The priest had me sit down on the couch.
“My wife, the papadhiá, is a little disposed; you’ll have to excuse her. But I myself will cook for you, lay the table for your supper, and prepare a bed so that you can sleep.”
His voice was heavy and afflicted. I looked at him. He was extremely pale, and his eyes were swollen and inflamed, as though from weeping. But no thought of a misfortune occurred to me. I ate, slept, and in the morning the priest came and brought me a tray of bread, cheese, and milk. I held out my hand, thanked him, and said goodbye.
“God bless you, my son,” he said. “Christ be with you.”
I left. At the edge of the village an old man appeared. Placing his hand over his breast, he greeted me.
“Where did you spend the night, son?’ he asked.
“At the priest’s house.”
The old man sighed. “Ah, the poor fellow. And you didn’t catch wind of anything?”
“What was there to catch wind of?”
“His son died yesterday morning. His only son. Didn’t you hear the women lamenting?”
“I heard nothing. Nothing.”
“They had him in the inner room. They must have muffled their laments to keep you from hearing and being disturbed...
Pleasant journey!”
“My eyes filled with tears.
“What are you crying for!” exclaimed the old man in astonishment. “Oh, I see: you’re young, you haven’t gotten used to death yet. Pleasant journey!”
    In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen. 
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