Brokenness is what I long for?

O Lord, open my lips,

and my mouth will declare your praise.

For you have no delight in sacrifice;

if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit;

a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Psalm 51:15-17

-------------------------------

One of my favorite Gospel songs is “Take my Life,” which is basically a prayer for holiness put to music:

Holiness is what I long for,

holiness is what I need.

Holiness is what you want from me.

So take my heart, and form it.

Take my mind, transform it.

Take my will, confirm it.

To Yours, to Yours, O Lord.

In truth, there has always been a bit of debate in my congregation about the other verses of the song. Each succeeding verse replaces the word holiness with other virtues that we seek to exhibit in our discipleship: “faithfulness”, “righteousness”, and the verse that is the source of debate and controversy: “brokenness.” I remember well the first time it came up: “Pastor, are we really singing “brokenness is what I long for and brokenness is what I need? I long for a lot of things, but brokenness is not one of them. Would it not be better to say “healing” or “love?”

I don't know why I thought of all this today, except that my Monday morning devotion (on the penitential Psalms!) started off with a prayer from Psalm 51 for guess what – brokenness. There I was again, faced with this troubling prayer, and once again I have a song writer trying to put it on my lips. Do I really want to pray for a broken spirit? A broken and contrite heart? Can't we just say a holy, a righteous, or a faithful spirit and leave it at that?

So I thought I would help out Bible translators and come up with a better English equivalent to the Hebrew word shabar found in this Psalm. My investigation only made matters worse: shabar – to break, break in or down, rend violently, wreck, crush, quench, rupture, be maimed, be crippled. Down near the bottom of my lexicon alternatives, I found only one other: to cause to break out, bring to the birth. It was then that it hit me. Holiness, faithfulness, and righteousness, all those things we love to pray and sing for, can only be birthed in us if we first allow ourselves to be broken – utterly and completely. God first has to break into our complacency and break down our resistance to change and transformation. God first has to rend, sometimes violently, the false idols from our iron-fisted grasp. God first has to wreck our self sufficiency, crush our false loves, quench our distorted desires, rupture our spiritual illusions, and even maim or cripple us if need be – if it will save us from sin and death (didn't Jacob walk away from prayer limping?).

So thanks to two song writers, one a contemporary Christian artist, the other an ancient Jewish composer – brokenness is once again something I am going to pray for, though I must admit, I may first pray for God to give me the guts and courage to keep praying for something so difficult, knowing that a broken and contrite heart is the only womb that can give birth to all great things God wants to do in me and through me.

Check out DBS for under $7

For those who use the Adult Bible Studies' curriculum, here is a supplemental resource that is designed for use with the student books. DBS (Daily Bible Study) has a brief, one page meditation on a daily Scripture passage that opens with a question for reflection and ends with a prayer.

The DBS for Fall 2009 begins on November 30 and ends February 28, 2010. I am the writer for the last half of this resource (Unit 3: Testimonies to Jesus as Messiah) from February 1 to February 28 along side the writers for Unit 1 and 2, which are Simon Iredale and Christopher P. Momany. Click the picture to go directly to Cokesbury.com if you are interested.

The best book on Christian Leadership you've never read ...

Or perhaps you have?

I have no doubt that many of the leadership books that pastors and Christians leaders are so strongly urged to read these days can have helpful insights from the business world, but here is a bit of a game changer or gospel paradigm shift to throw in the mix - just to help us all not to forget the gospel edge of ALL reflection we do about Christian leadership these days.

Among other great insights in this small book, Nouwen names three temptations: 1) the temptation to be relevant (countered by the discipline of contemplative prayer), 2) the temptation to be spectacular (countered by the disciple of confession and forgiveness), and 2) the temptation to be powerful (countered by the discipline of theological reflection).

Here is a great nugget from his experience with a severely handicapped community:

These broken, wounded, and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self - the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things, - and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I am completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of my accomplishments.

2009 Creo Sermon Series #12

I believe ... in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting

The Scripture Lessons
Job 19:20-27
Psalm 16
I Corinthians 15:50-57
Matthew 22:23-33

Thestrals. If any of you have ever watched or read part of the Harry Potter series, you may remember them. Thestrals. It is the name give to the ugly, skeletal, and rather frightening-looking winged horses that pull carriages of students to and from the Hogwarts School. The interesting thing about Thestrals is that most people can't see them. In the Harry Potter books, students come and go to school led by carriages that seem to move by magic, without any assistance from animal or engine. We later learn that only certain people can actually see Thestrals. Only people who have seen death, who have witnessed its terror - only these people can see the horses. Once Harry Potter had witnessed the murder of his friend Cedric Diggory, he noticed the Thestrals pulling the carriages at school for the very first time.

Now I know that the Harry Potter books and movies are just fantasy, but the story here has some truth to it. Let me ask you all a hard question today: how many of you here have witnessed death? How many here have been present at the moment another human being took their very last breath on this earth? How many of you have had our own, personal brush with death? For some, it happens at or near the very beginning of life. For others, it comes to them in the elder years. For others, it comes at any given point in-between. Death. It is an ever present reality for all who are living; sobering, final, the end of life as we know it. And sometimes, just like in Harry Potter, people who have seen death or tasted it briefly tend to see things that others of us do not see.

Some of you may have heard the comedian and actor, Robin Williams, had heart surgery earlier this year. He had to abruptly postpone upcoming performances of his one-man show, "Weapons of Self-Destruction," in order to head to a hospital to undergo surgery for an aortic valve replacement. But it was this brush with death, this wake up call for life that had Robin seeing things - seeing life - from a different perspective. As he said in a recent interview: "You literally are opened up, and you really do appreciate the simplest things like breath, and friends ... I've been calling up all of my friends and saying, 'Thanks for being there' ... that's been amazing."[1]

The theologian, Karl Barth, expressed this same truth - namely, that only people who take death seriously can truly appreciate life. He writes: "Before us lies death, dying, the coffin, the grave, the end. The person who does not take that seriously, that we are all looking to that end; the person who does not realize what dying means, who is not terrified at it, who has not had enough joy in this life and so does not fear its end, who has not yet comprehended life as a gift from God, who has no trace of envy for people who live long and fruitful lives ... in other words ... who does not truly grasp the beauty of this life ... cannot grasp the significance of 'resurrection.'"[2]

Today we focus on that part of the creed that says "I believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting."We don't say "I believe in death" - but facing death honestly and openly is clearly implied. Here is the first subversive truth about Christians in today's world - we do not shy away from death, but are called to face it squarely in the face. Some of you may have noticed the change in funeral services in the 1988 UM hymnal, near the back of the book. The funeral service changed its name to "A Service of Death and Resurrection." A service of death. This is not morbid wallowing and it is not pie-in-the-sky escapism; it is facing the truth about humanity squarely. We are mortal, not immortal. We are human, not divine. We are creature, not Creator.

Do you grasp how counter-cultural facing this truth is in our culture? The whole world is busy trying to escape death; trying to delay it to the last possible moment. Health care professionals are schooled to see the death of a patient as a failure of imagination that begs the question: "Did we do everything we could?" The recent debate over health care recently took a weird turn towards insanity, when some got up in arms about conversations about the end of life and getting one's affairs in order. Entire industries, from cosmetics to plastic surgery, spend billions of dollars annually to help people avoid aging, avoid gray hair and sagging skin, avoid anything and everything that might remind us of the truth so many do not want to face - that we are mortal - that our life on this earth is fleeting - that the breaths we inhale daily are numbered - that the moments we have left on this earth are finite.

If facing this truth today, squarely in the face, strikes you as morbid, or as depressing, or as a subject you would rather avoid - then I implore you to stay with me a little longer. You have only heard part of the grand Christian truth. Think with me a moment. Imagine with me a moment. Have you ever stopped to think where the greatest truth about our faith was first proclaimed? In a cemetery! While the world seeks to dance around death, dance around it finality, and dance around its implications, Jesus did the opposite. He picked up a cross and walked straight towards it, one painful step at a time.

The wages of sin is death - so Jesus stepped into the boxer's ring and went a few rounds with the grim reaper and three days later, Jesus did a little dancing of his own. On the third day, Jesus danced around a cemetery embodying the words Paul would later write to the church in Corinth: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."[3] After his death and resurrection, Jesus danced around Jerusalem, popping up for breakfast beside a lake; popping into to an upper room to break bread with "scared-to-death" and "scared-by-death" disciples - and he is still dancing - into hospice rooms, into ICU units, into morgues, onto battlefields, into places that seem dark, hopeless, and final. And Jesus brings one single, one explosive, one powerful, one unforgettable, one amazing, one hope-filled, one all-inspiring word to all such places: resurrection.

One day, some Sadducees came to Jesus, and trust me church, they are still coming today - screaming their same mantra: "there is no resurrection," there is no life after death, there is no hope on the other side of the grave, there is no day but today, so take your vitamins, submit to your surgeries, make the best of it while you can. And Jesus turns and says to us: Have you not read what was said to you by God, 'I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? The God, not of the dead, but of the living."[4] Notice what he didn't say! He didn't say, I WAS the God of Abraham. I WAS the God of Isaac. I WAS the God of Jacob. He said, I AM. I STILL AM.

Hear me church. God steps into worship this morning and says to you: I AM the God, not of the dead, but of the living. I AM the God of the blessed virgin Mary. I AM the God of Miriam and Moses. I AM the God of Grandma Flores. I AM the God of Cousin Isabelle. I AM the God of your deceased loved ones, who are dancing with me even now and await with you the day when I will come again in glory: For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel's call and with the sound of God's trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage one another with these words.[5]

Church - hear again our confession - we believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. No one can talk you into this truth. No scientist can prove it. No philosopher can explain it. It must be believed, in the face of death. It must be believed in the darkest and dingiest of places on this earth. "It needs the witness of the Holy Spirit, the witness of the Word of God proclaimed and heard in Scripture, the witness of the risen Jesus Christ, in order to believe that there shall be light and that this light shall complete our uncompleted life. The Holy Spirit who speaks to us in Scripture tells us that we may live in this great hope."[6]

And in the meantime? In the rest of our time on this earth? In this space between the here and now and the yet to come? We believe in the resurrection of the body. Not the immortality of the soul, as some would have us believe. And here is the clincher - the implications - the "why does this part of the creed really matter for today, for me, for my life, and my faith." It is because of this Christian belief, this belief in the resurrection of the body that bodies matter - our bodies - our physical bodies - matter to God and should matter to us. As I heard one person put it recently, we are amphibians - made up of both the material and the spiritual. We can never be reduced to just one or other. We can never JUST be concerned with "saving souls" - as important as that is. We believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting - and that belief should affect our days on this earth as much as it affects our life in God for eternity. That belief should affect all of our being in this life and in the next - our body as well as our soul - our mind as well as our spirit.

And the implications are all around us. As Martin Luther King Jr. once declared at a gathering for garbage workers in Memphis:

"It's all right to talk about long robes over yonder, in all of its symbolism, but ultimately people want some suits and dresses and shoes to wear down here. 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 his 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, and the [new Durham.]"[7]

I have a word for you today church. Resurrection. When you are standing before the gravestone of your loved one in a nearby cemetery- resurrection. When you are defending the right to life of the unborn - resurrection. When you are seeking to feed the hungry in this life - resurrection. When you are sharing the bread of life to feed the souls of those who do not know God in their heart of hearts - resurrection. When you are advocating on behalf of the widows and orphans for daily food - resurrection. When you are lost in hopeless, despair, and personal darkness - resurrection. Resurrection. Resurrection. Resurrection.

In the words of today's psalmist: Therefore my heart is glad, my soul rejoices; my body rests secure.[8] Amen.


[1] Interview with Robin Williams by People Magazine: http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20295149,00.html
[2] Karl Barth, Dogmatics in Outline, p. 153.
[3] I Corinthians 15:55-56
[4] Matthew 22:23,32
[5] I Thessalonians 4:16-18
[6] Barth, p. 154-155.
[7] Martin Luther King, Jr. A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches of MLK, Jr., ed. James Melvin Washington, p. 282.
[8] Psalm 16:9

Creo Sermon Series

I believe in the Holy Spirit

Ezekiel 3:12-21 / Psalm 104 / I Corinthians 2:6-16 / John 16:4b-15

“I believe in God the Father” … (recite creed rapidly with congregation up to the pause before the clause on the Holy Spirit … then take a deep breath). If the creed were to stop there – with he ascended into heaven, is seated at the right hand of the Father, and will come again to judge the living and the dead … Christians would be in a sad state of affairs. Up unto this point, we are left with Jesus’ absence. Jesus died and rose again, but then he ascended. Wherever heaven is – whatever heaven is – whatever we want to make of the divine space at the right hand of the Father, it feels like it is elsewhere, remote, far away, distant. It isn’t, of course, but the reason we know this is because of what comes next, because our confession is incomplete, because the truth about God is horribly flawed without what comes next. So we take a deep breath here and move on in our confession: I believe in the Holy Spirit.

Take a breath. Let’s do it again – together. The miracle of breathing. It is something we do every day, so much and so often that we give it absolutely no thought until we are having trouble breathing. Every breath – every simple breath – is an intricately complex process. It begins with the diaphragm - that parachute shaped muscle beneath your rib cage - contracting and bringing air into your lungs. Air then travels in through your nose and mouth, down your throat, through your voice box, into the trachea (or windpipe), into the Y-shaped bronchi that lead to the left and right lungs. The bronchi break off into bronchioles, like small tree branches, getting smaller and smaller until the air reaches the end of these “branches” where little pockets of air, called the alveoli receive the fresh oxygen and exchange it for carbon dioxide. The fresh, oxygenated blood then get pumps to the left side of the heart which sends this life giving stuff to the rest of the body.

That whole process occurs an average of 44 times a minute in newborns; 20-40 times a minute in infants; 12-20 times a minute in healthy adults; 35-45 times a minute during strenuous exercise. And how often do we think about it? How often do we pay it attention? Around 6-10 liters of air are brought into your lungs each minute. During exercise it is possible to breathe in over 100 liters of per minute. Air – the stuff of life – the stuff that animates the rest of your body, keeps you thinking clearly, allows you to do everything else. Breathing – a miracle happening in your life to the tune of around 12-20 times a minute, and we think nothing of it until something goes wrong.

The miracle of breathing; it is a lot like the miracle of the Spirit – which is why breath is the favorite biblical metaphor for God’s Spirit. And the Spirit of God animates us and the church in much the same way as the process of breathing I described above. Believing in the Holy Spirit – breathing in the Holy Spirit – is very much like breathing, exchanging carbon dioxide for oxygen, for when we breathe in the Holy Spirit we exchange the lies of the world for the truth of God.

Jesus says in today’s Gospel: I will send the Holy Spirit to you. And when he comes, he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment … When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth. The world has been living on the toxic lies of satan for too long. We need a deep, sustained breath of God’s fresh truth.

The problem with human beings is not that we desire too much but that we desire to little – we settle for too little – we are happy with too little. We get a little money, a little pleasure, a little moment of exhilaration, a little love – and then we wander around in the dark until we can find some more. The world teaches us that we are free to do what we want when we want – and yet somehow when we do so, happiness still eludes us. It is like drinking sea water to quench our thirst – it may feel good for a quick moment, but in the end it causes diarrhea, dehydrates the body, causes severe cramping, and ultimately leads to death. Why drink sea water when we can have living water? Why breathe toxic gases when you can exchange them for the breath of God?

Do you think the world revolves around you, your family, your concerns, your troubles, your fear, worries, and anxieties? Stop. Take a breath. Do you think you are alone in your battle against sickness or disease, suffering without hope of healing and companionship? Stop. Take a breath. Are you convinced you have no worth? That you are stupid? That you are somehow small, unimportant and insignificant in the larger scope of things? That you are unforgiveable? Un-loveable? Hopelessly lost? Unable to change? Without God and without a future in this world? Stop. Take a breath. Let the Holy Spirit do its work in you right now – exchanging the Truth of God for the lies that have been coursing through you mind and body for too long.

Believing in the Holy Spirit – breathing in the Holy Spirit – is very much like breathing, take life-giving, oxygenated blood to every extremity of the body, equipping, strengthening, enlivening tissue, muscles, brain function, and internal organs – for when we breathe in the Holy Spirit we breathe the life of God into the Body of Christ, the Church.

The breath of God courses through the Body – enhancing brain function – or in the world’s of the Apostle Paul again – instructing us, aiding us to interpret spiritual things …allowing us to discern the mind of Christ. I like the way many Christian accountability groups often ask the question on a weekly basis: “I will seek to discern God’s Spirit within me on a daily basis, striving to obey spiritual promptings and heed spiritual warnings.” Have you had any spiritual promptings lately? Stop take a breath. They are there if you start paying attention. Have you heeded or ignored any spiritual warnings lately? Stop. Take a breath. Pay attention.

Let me give you just one personal example I have experienced. It is how I got involved in jail and prison ministry near the beginning of my ministry. It is the reason I am still involved in such ministry 15 years later. In my first appointment out in rural, Washington County NC, I found myself traveling down a long stretch of highway 64 on a regular basis. There was not much out there except for crops, farm houses and fields – that and a little, medium security state prison on a long stretch of otherwise empty road.

For days I drove past the little prison, often wondering what the men on the other side of the barbed wire fence were doing. I would see them out in the yard on occasion – working out, playing basketball, headed to the mess hall, or simply sitting out on some outdoor tables. Every day I would pass this prison and feel like I should do something, but I didn't know what. It didn't help that I had been busy reading Matthew 28 in my daily devotions: “I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” It didn't help that I was reading John Wesley's journal; about how he visited in Castle (the city jail) one day a week, the prison on another, the widows and orphans on another, and the poor and sick on another.

Then one day, it just happened - something – call it a spiritual warning, a spiritual prompting, or something I ate night before – I like to call it the Holy Spirit – but one day I just could not pass that prison again. One day, my car just took a turn into the parking lot to see what I might find. It didn't help that it was not visiting hours at that moment in the day, and the guard with the rifle in the main tower was quick to point this out. We had a rather awkward shouting match as I walked to the main gate, trying to explain that I was the new Methodist pastor in town and would like to talk to someone in charge (as I had turned in, I had quickly determined that I would start by trying to meet the chaplain and see if there was a way I could assist him or her in any way).

I was ushered through the gate to the administrative building where I met Superintendent Hathaway for the first time. A man of God, and a committed Christian himself, we had a wonderfully surprising and completely unexpected conversation that lasted over two hours. He quickly informed me that there was no chaplain for any of the inmates in his facility. Two hours later – I left as the new, volunteer chaplain with regular visits set up for my day off on Fridays. Looking back on that day, I see providence where I once say only coincidence. Looking back on that day, I see the Holy Spirit all over what was happening.

Paul tells us this morning that we cannot see the Spirit … what no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him – these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. Do you discern the things of the Spirit? The Holy Spirit is all around us this morning. In the rustling of the bulletins … in the child that is crying or fidgeting in worship … in the announcement about a new group meeting to pray and study … in the praises over that member that just found a job or the prayer over another who just got sick … in the words of a hymn … in the testimony of believers … the Spirit is all around us if we allow God to gift us with eyes of faith to comprehend what is truly God’s. The breath of God courses through the Body, equipping us for mission, sending us forth as witnesses, giving strength to tired muscles and life to dying extremities. The miracle of breathing – the miracle of the Holy Spirit.

Not sure what the future holds for you and your family? Take a breath. Worried about the future of your job? Of the church? Of the world? Of the government? Of the health care system? Of life as we know it? Stop. Take a breath. Feel like you are approaching burn-out? Becoming spiritually flabby in your discipleship? Stop. Take a breath. Hear the words of today’s Psalmist:

²⁴O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. ²⁵Yonder is the sea, great and wide, creeping things innumerable are there, living things both small and great. ²⁶There go the ships, and Leviathan that you formed to sport in it. ²⁷These all look to you to give them their food in due season; ²⁸when you give to them, they gather it up; when you open your hand, they are filled with good things. ²⁹When you hide your face, they are dismayed; when you take away their breath, they die and return to their dust. ³⁰When you send forth your spirit,^* they are created; and you renew the face of the ground.

Stop. Believe in the Holy Spirit. Breathe in the Holy Spirit. It is more than air – more than oxygen – more than life – it is God – God’s breath – God’s life – in us, sustaining us, renewing us, and recreating us – renewing the face of the earth. Stop. Take a moment – breathe – let it renew you, today, right now. Amen.

Sermon Blogging: "God the Father Almighty like a Mammy"

"Creo / I believe: What Christians Believe and Why it Matters" Sermon II

"God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth."

The God of Job is a God to be feared. The Maker of heaven and earth is a God to be revered and honored. The God of today's psalmist is a God whose majesty and handiwork is worth of all praise. It is this God - God the Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth - who answered Job out of the whirlwind with an incredulous: "Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me ...Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me if you have understanding ... Have you commanded the morning since your days began ... have you entered into the springs of the sea ... have you comprehended the expanse of the earth?"[1]

God the Almighty - from the Greek word pantokrator meaning "ruler of all." Almighty. It is a word that puts presumptuous and arrogant humanity back in our place. It is a word for anyone and everyone who has ever thought the world revolved around us - around humankind. Do we really think we are all that? Think again, says this God. Think you are a mover and a shaker? Meet the Maker of all that moves and shakes throughout the earth. God, the great and Almighty pantokrator, Maker of heaven and earth - it a confession that reminds us that we are creature, not Creator; that our life is finite, not infinite; that our knowledge is limited, God's is limitless. Stand in fear of this God. Kneel in reverence before this throne. Approach this holiness with awe, not arrogance; with humility and not haughtiness. Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return. It is a humbling thought; a truthful confession; an important reminder; a biblical linchpin of the Christian faith. God, Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.

But hear me church. Though the confession of belief in a God who is Almighty does serve as a humbling corrective to human arrogance in one sense - though it does remind us that we are dust and to dust we shall return - we must also remember that we are not just any dust - far from it - we are God's dust - formed and shaped by God's hand; enlivened and sustained by God's breath - and that is saying something. Yes, we are creature and God is Creator - but as the psalmist reminds us today, we are creatures made "a little lower than God, crowned with glory and honor."[2]

Pondering this God, this Creator, this pantokrator can leave one speechless, breathless, beauty-stricken, and awe-inspired. It is the stuff of artists and poets. Listen to the words of Annie Dillard:

Look at the horsehair worm, a yard long and thin as a thread, whipping through the duck pond ... Look at the turtle under ice breathing through its pumping cloaca. Look at the fruit of the osage orange tree, big as a grapefruit, green, convoluted as any human brain. Look, in short, at practically anything - the coot's feet, the mantis's face, a banana, the human ear - and see that not only did the creator create everything, but the he is apt to create anything. He'll stop at nothing. There is no one standing over evolution with a blue pencil to say "Now that one, there, is absolutely ridiculous, and I won't have it."[3]

When we stand to say we believe in God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, we step into a reality bigger and grander than science can describe, than logic can deduct, than institutions of higher learning can fully grasp. But trying to grasp, trying to explore, trying to see, trying to understand is a wonder-filled adventure in God's playground that never fails to surprise. When we stand to say we believe in God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth - it is the church urging us to rediscover that child-like wonder at the marvels of God's creation; it is our confession prodding us to explore the mysteries of the universe while retaining a sense of awe for Creator; it is fellow believers gathering in worship like art enthusiasts might gather around a masterpiece, busy discussing, pointing, praising, and appreciating every brush stroke, every detail, every color of the Artist's handiwork.

God, Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. It is a title that can and should evoke fear, awe, and reverence in the heart of every believer - but get this - this God, our God, was not content to be called "Almighty" alone.[4] The radical and overwhelming majesty and mystery of God's fearful holiness is matched ounce for ounce and pound for pound with a radical and overwhelming intimacy and affection. Christians don't just call our God Almighty, we also call God "Our Father." "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name."[5] The Greek word for Father, pater, is the word Jesus used when he taught his disciples to pray. But the intimacy and affection goes even further than this when Jesus used the Arabic word abba[6] - which is more like Papi - the kind of implied intimacy where a parent scoops up a child in joyful embrace at the end of a day, or gingerly hugs and comforts a child when they have fallen and scraped their knee.

It is this God, the triune God of Scripture, who insists on holding words like "Almighty" and "Father" together in healthy tension. And we would do well to not forget it, which is part of the creed's job. "God the Almighty" can never be separated from "God the Father," thanks be to God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This is the strange, peculiar, and oddly refreshing God of the Christian faith. The God whose Almighty strength and power is rivaled only by God's Fatherly forgiveness, mercy, and desire for intimate relationship.

But perhaps there are objections to calling God "Father." I have certainly heard my fare share in the past 15 years of ministry. Why do we call God "Father" and not "Mother?" ...Because Jesus called God "Father." It is as simple as that. Father is a name, not a gender. God is neither male nor female, though we often use male and female imagery to describe who God is and how God acts in the world. Why do we call God "Father" and not "Creator" only?" Because "Father" is not only a name, but a name that implies relationship - intimate relationship between Father and Son and intimate relationship with humanity, who was created in the likeness and image of God. Why do we say God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and not God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer? Because God cannot and should not be reduced to what God does.

Many of you know the titles and descriptions that get at some of the things I do as well. I am a husband, a parent, a pastor, a teacher, a writer, and on my good days when my knees don't hurt, my ibuprofen is taken, and my alarm goes off in time - a sometime basketball player. But none of those roles or descriptors is my name. For those who know me, my name is Kevin. That is what I want to be called. Kevin. Not Gerald, not Reverend ... but Kevin. We confess faith in God the Father, we pray "our Father who art in heaven," and we baptize in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit - because that is the name God has revealed to us. A name that implies amazing love, radical intimacy, and interestingly enough - something that is mind boggling to so many other religions and people of other faiths - a God who desires intimate relationship with you, with me, and with all humanity.

In the words of James Weldon Johnson, this is God the Father Almighty, like a mammy:

God sat down on the side of a hill where he could think. God thought and he thought until he thought, "I'll make me a man." Up from the bed of the river God scooped the clay, and by the bank of the river God kneeled him down and there the great God Almighty who lit the sun and fixed it in the sky, who flung the stars to the most far corner of the night, who rounded the earth in the middle of his hand, this great God like a mammy bending over her baby down in the dust, toiling over a lump of clay till he shaped it in his own image. Then he blew the breath of life and the man became a living soul.[7]

God the Father Almighty, like a mammy bending over her baby. This is the God of the creed. This is the God of our confession. This is the God of the Christian faith. The terrifying, awe-inspiring but also loving, forgiving, and grace-filled Lover of our souls - Father Almighty - the One who tenderly corrects, lovingly disciplines, gently prods, and mercifully commands.

How do we respond to this God? To God the Father Almighty, like a mammy? Rediscover the childlike wonder of God's good creation. Don't just stop and smell the roses, lay in the grass and ponder the stars; hike in the mountains and join them in praise; sit down with a friend and discover God's image in your neighbor. This is a God we can both worship and fall in love with at the same time, day by glorious day, hour by marvelous hour, moment by precious moment. This is God the Father Almighty, like a mammy, strong enough to sustain you through trials and tribulations, caring enough to nurse you back to health, wise enough to counter human foolishness, forgiving enough to pardon our sins, powerful enough to restore broken relationships, holy enough to purify your life, mighty enough to make a way where there seems no way, compassionate enough to embrace the poor, good-humored enough to laugh with alongside us in joy, and loving enough to send his Son into the world, not to condemn it, but to redeem it, remake it, recreate it, and sanctify it. Thanks be to God, the Father Almighty, like a mammy. ... I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. Amen.

[1] Job 38:1-18

[2] Psalm 8:5

[3] Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, p. 135, as quoted in James C. Howell's The Life we Claim: The Apostles' Creed," p. 30-31.

[4] Howell, p. 15.

[5] Matthew 6:9

[6] Used three times in the Scriptures: Mark 14:36, Romans 8:15, Galatians 4:6

[7] James Weldon Johnson, God's trombones: Seven Negro Sermons in Verse, as quoted in Howell, p. 28-29.

Sermon Blogging: "More than a Perfunctory Kiss"

Below is the first in a new summer sermon series at RUMC entitled: "Creo / I believe: What Christians Believe and Why it Matters" that will walk through the clauses of the Apostles' Creed. The lectionary complied for this series can be found here, in a previous blog post.

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Today is Trinity Sunday, so it is fitting to reflect on a Trinitarian statement of faith that the church has relied upon since the middle of the second century. I am speaking of the Apostles' Creed, though it didn't start out as a creed. It started out as three questions. Questions asked of any and all who desired to be saved and baptized in the name of the Triune God. For each of these new disciples of Jesus, they would come to the baptismal font and hear three questions: Do you believe in God? To which they would respond: I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. Do you believe in Jesus Christ? I believe in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord. Do you believe in the Holy Spirit? I believe in the Holy Spirit ..."

Creo / I believe - ancient words - ancient questions. What does it mean today to say the word(s) Creo or I believe? What should follow such words? I heard someone use them this past week in a rather casual way about the weather when they said: "I believe it is going to rain later today." In that instance, the words had nothing to do with religion or faith. It is a way of saying "there is a strong probability it will rain later today." "I believe" is sometimes followed by a guess, or a hypothesis: "I believe that my sister will be dropping by the house sometime this week." Here the words express a hope or a possibility.

So what of these words in worship? What does it mean to stand together as Christians, as a response to the Word, and say together "I believe?" When they are said here, before God and before a faith gathering of God's people, these words, steeped in the tradition of Israel and the Church, have a much different connotation. Perhaps it is important to say what these words do not mean before we talk about what they do mean. Here - in the context of worship, "I believe" does not mean "I want," "I think," or "I hope." And contrary to what many may think, the words "I believe" do not mean "I am certain," or "I have no doubts," or "I have no pressing questions about my faith." I would even go further. When we say "I believe in God the Father Almighty," we are not merely saying "I believe there is a God."

The grammar here is more like the grammar that my wife and I used on May 14, 1988 when we stood before the altar of a church in Oklahoma City and said: "I promise to love you in sickness and in health; in good times and in bad ... until death do us part." The words were deeply personal, but they were also tried and true vows that have been used by countless couples that had preceded us in this challenging, difficult, and joy-filled journey called marriage. When we stand to say the creed, it is the same. "I believe" is more akin to "I promise." Words that are deeply personal but also vitally corporate and communal - always implying love and relationship.

When I counsel couples for marriage, I encourage them to use the traditional vows of the church; not because I discourage them from writing vows or extra words of their own that they may want to share - which they often add to part of the ceremony - but I encourage new vows or promises to be used in addition to the traditional ones. It is understandable that couples feel compelled to find their own words of promise and love, and I encourage them to do so, but these traditional vows are also important precisely because they are time-tested, tried and true words - vows that have been put the test by countless couples who have gone before; couples who have seen sickness, death, poverty, and untold trials and challenges; couples who have found these words of promise and commitment not limiting, old, dusty, or boring - but rather a solid, enduring, deep, and abiding foundation under their feet when trails and tribulations came their way. The Apostle's Creed is like that. It is more a pledge of allegiance and a promise of devotion than it is a set of propositions to be believed in or not.

The creed is a pledge of allegiance - have you thought of the creed in that way? Maybe we would prefer to keep the creed as a summary of faith or doctrine rather than a promise of our devotion, trust, and full surrender. The creed as pledge makes these words disturbing and subversive. These words have a way of reminding us that nothing and no one should be allowed to take precedence over this God. "So go ahead," says this God, "go ahead and make promises to your spouse in marriage, but don't ever let your love for her or him trump your love and devotion for me who once said: "unless you hate your father, your mother, or your sister you cannot be my disciple."[1] "So go ahead and stand for your own nation's pledge of allegiance, to a flag or leader, a president, king, or queen, but be fore-warned ahead of time of the words of my prophet Jeremiah: Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals ... whose hearts turn away from the Lord. They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes.[2]

Church, have no doubt. When we stand to recite the words of this creed, just like the couple who stands before the altar to take marriage vows - we say more than we know - we pledge more than we imagine - we commit to more than we can currently fathom. Just as a couple has to spend the rest of their lives trying to live into the words "I do" - so the church strives to grow daily into the bold and daring words of our confession: "I believe." We stand up and say those words not because we have all our theological ducks in a row; not because we have no doubts about our faith; not because we have no anxiety about the future; not because we have no pressing questions about suffering, pain, evil, or spirituality - but because we are in love with the greatest Lover of our souls; because we are drawn to God's love, and we are committed to exploring that love every day, trusting in it more every week, resting it in more fully through every trial, and growing into it as we seek to love God and our neighbor in return. Yes, I am convinced that the creed can and should be described as a pledge of allegiance, of devotion, of trust - ultimately, of love.

The Apostles' Creed is not only a pledge of allegiance; it is also a subversive story. Take a close look at the creed and you will discover that it is not and has never been merely a set of propositions to agree with or not. It is a story; a story that flows from God to us and not the other way around. It is called revelation. We know God because God chose to reveal God-self to us. This is a story that starts with God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, not with "me, myself, and I." We don't stand in worship to say: "I believe in myself, my ability to discern all things spiritual. I believe in my own personal quest for truth and meaning. I believe that I should not be encumbered with old dogmas, with other people's beliefs, or with outdated and outmoded ways of thinking and believing. I believe that every person can discover what is true for themselves." The creed is a summary, a cliff notes version, a kind of "table of contents" to the grand story of salvation history contained in the Old and New Testaments. It is a story that challenges our modern culture, with its rampant individualism and self-proclaimed trust in human ability and intellect.

I have heard people say that they have difficulty saying the words of the creed. They have problems with parts of it; they disbelieve certain clauses or desire or think that creeds feel too oppressive to them. They want to be free to think and let think; to come up with their own answers; to find themselves and their spiritual journeys without being bogged down with old dogma. I have to be honest. I don't understand such thinking myself. I love the fact that I stand to say more than I know. I love to stand up and confess faith in a world that is bigger than I am, that stands on the shoulders of thousands of saints who have gone before me, and who have found these words to be words worth fighting for, words worth living into, and words worth dying for.

We too often forget how these words have been used by previous Christians before us. For many Christian martyrs, the words "I believe in God the Father Almighty ... and I believe in Jesus Christ his only Son" were the last words they uttered in this life. During many of the great persecutions of the church, Christians were given a chance to renounce their faith and live - or confess their faith and die. Imagine that moment - imagine a torturing interrogation by the anti-Christian authorities. Imagine Christians under threat of death who speak words in their final moments of life - words very similar to the prisoner of war who refuses to say anything but their name, rank, and serial number - these Christians turned to look into the eyes of their abusers with the unwavering words that would lead to their death: "I believe."

The creed is a pledge. The creed is a story. It is also fence. One of my favorite gospel songs is "Jesus, be a fence all around me every day. I'm asking you to protect me as I travel along the way." The creed is a summary of the church's sound teaching and good teaching that is spoken of in today's epistle: For I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard ... guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit.[3] Why do we say the creed so often in worship? Because it is like a fence, a fence that holds us to the standard of sound teaching that has been delivered to us from the first apostles' down to today; because it is a fence that holds us in front of Jesus. Why should we care about some words that have been around for so many years? Because we care about truth and because these words point to the good treasure of God's gospel which we are called to continue to proclaim, share, and confess with the help of the Holy Spirit.

Do you have questions about the world or doubts related to your faith? Then stand and say the creed knowing that it like a protective nursery, safe enough to contain your doubts and big enough to expand with you as you grow. Do you think the creed is a boring set of dogmas that are old and irrelevant to your life? Then I challenge you to say it anyway. You may discover it is quite the opposite - that it is too exciting, too dangerous, and too threatening to say it on a regular basis. You may discover that the danger here is not that these words are boring but that these words can get you killed. Do you want to leave the small world of your own thoughts, desires, and knowledge and enter into the large, grand world of God's salvation story? Then jump into this creed with both feet and walk together with other believers on a journey that will not only change your life, but heaven and earth as we know it.

Every morning, before I head out of the house, I lean over to give my wife a quick kiss. Looking in from the outside, it could appear to others that the kiss is perfunctory - done with very little feeling, thought, or emotion. Maybe. I have no doubts that I put more into that kiss some days than I have others, but that doesn't change the fact that the kiss - no matter how short - no matter how fleeting - no matter how routine - is still a symbol and a sign of something far deeper and larger than meets the eye. I see the creed in the same way. Sometimes we say it with feeling. Sometimes we don't. But that kiss represents something far deeper and larger than meets the eye. It points to a grand love, a powerful relationship, and some abiding promises that are made and renewed between God and the believer. These are more than mere words, more than a pledge of allegiance, more than a subversive story, more than a fence of protection ... and yes, more than a perfunctory kiss. It is a kind of kiss, though, a sign and a symbol of a far deeper, larger, and grander relationship between God and God's people. So this morning I invite you ... NO ... I dare you to stand together and join me in confessing the faith as contained in the Old and New Testaments: I believe ...

[1] Luke 14:26

[2] Jeremiah 17:5-6

[3] 2 Timothy 1:12-14