Thursday, April 29, 2010

"The Best is Yet to Come"

Sermon 05.02.10
“The Best is Yet to Come”

A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. As she was getting her things in order, she contacted her pastor and asked him to come to her house to discuss some of her final wishes.

She told him which hymns she wanted sung at her funeral, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. She also asked that her favorite bible be placed in the casket.

As the pastor prepared to leave, the woman suddenly remembered something else. “There’s one more thing,” she said excitedly.

“What’s that?” asked the pastor.
“This is important,” the woman said. “I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.”
The pastor stood looking at the woman, not quite knowing what to say.

The woman explained. “In all my years of attending church socials and potluck suppers, when the dished of the main course were being cleared away, someone would inevitably lean over and say, “Keep your fork.” “It was my favorite part of the meal because I knew that something even better was coming – a velvety rich chocolate cake or a deep-dish peach pie.”

“So when people see me in the casket with a fork in my hand, and they ask, ‘What’s with the fork?’, I want you to tell them: Keep the fork – the best is yet to come.”

Having recently conducted two memorial services in which this passage from Revelation was read, I decided to preach on it this morning, rather than the gospel passage, because I feel that it offers more than just comfort to the bereaved. Indeed, it is a glorious story of life, and how the Creator of life itself is now present, and coming to earth to be with mortals.

For most of the folks that are familiar with this passage, it has come to them as a vision of what heaven must be like; after death our souls ascending to a perfect place where there is no sadness, no unhappiness, streets that are paved with gold and angels standing around like a spiritual welcoming committee.

But this really isn’t what the passage says. It tells us that the new Jerusalem, the holy city of God will come down, like a bride adorned for her husband. The city is coming down – we’re not moving up. Verse 3 reassures us that we don’t need to go anywhere, but to stay put. The author John records it in this way. “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them.”

God is not some ephemeral figure hanging around in the clouds, but comes into our midst, creating newness, and giving to the thirsty the water of life. This affirmation of the Almighty coming to us, his peoples, is a significant part of the good news of the text. And the words that we are given are trustworthy and true – we have God’s promise on that.

We all have our own imagination about what heaven will be like. God assures us in this passage that mourning and crying and pain will be no more. Some of us picture heaven as a great garden of Paradise before the fall, while still others imagine pearly gates and the faces of loved ones. Life will be complete and fulfilling and joyful, with harp strumming cherubs. I myself think that when I get to heaven, I’ll be perfectly transformed into a size 8, and pepperoni pizzas will have zero calories.

Another important point of the passage is that God identifies as the Alpha and Omega – the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, the beginning and the end. But God isn’t just there at the beginning and the end of our lives; God is there for all of the in-betweens that we have. God is A through Z, not A and Z.

God is there when we are overwhelmed by the demands of working and raising a family; God is there when we celebrate milestone birthdays and anniversaries; God is there when our children disappoint us, and when our parents can no longer care for themselves. God is in the midst of all of our beginnings and endings. God is not sitting in heaven and watching a play, but moving around with us through all of life’s inner workings. Even though we realize that we do not truly have heaven here on earth, it’s comforting to know that when it is time for all of the old world order to cease, God will come down to mortals and live among them.

And, indeed, there is no city or town anywhere in the world called Heaven. I think that humankind is rather bright in this respect of not even attempting to duplicate what is only too wonderful to dream about or doubt about. How could you put a name on something that is the best thing to come?

John Newton, the author of Amazing Grace, offers his view of heaven: “When I get to heaven, I shall see three wonders there: The first wonder will be to see many there that I did not expect to see; the second wonder will be to miss the many people whom I did expect to see; the third and greatest of all will be to find myself there.”

John’s passage in Revelation is not about death, but about abundant life that is promised to us. Our God has seen fit to dwell among us, mere humans that we are. Our God has seen fit to make all things new. And our God has assured us that the first things have passed away. How wonderful to be told that we will no longer be deceitful, self-centered, unethical spoiled brats, but will dwell be able to be with God in glory. We just need to have our forks ready for dessert.

Let us remember that God is coming to us, and this promise is trustworthy and true. Let us praise God for the gift of eternity. Let us honor God whose home is among us. And let all God’s people say: The best is yet to come. Amen.

"The Conjunction of Life"

Sermon 04.04.10
“The Conjunction of Life”

Preachers will step into pulpits on Easter Sunday in churches all around the world and try to say a new word about the ever ancient, sacred experience of Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. They will talk about God's "yes" to Jesus and God's "no" to the powers that killed Jesus but failed in the end. It is clear that we can put very few spins on the story that is the foundation of our faith, but we can still find an element of surprise in the constant and consistent retelling of the single incident on which our entire hopes are pinned. And so we begin.

The account that we read from John is the passage that features Mary Magdalene. In the early morning hours she reaches the tomb and finds that the stone has been rolled away. She returns to where the disciples have been hiding in the upper room to relay the news. Peter, John and Mary make their way back down to the burial place, whereupon they enter the tomb and discover the empty linen clothes. The passage tells us that the men believed, and they return home. We do not know what they believed, to be honest, since the text indicates in verse 9 that they did not understand the scripture saying that Jesus must rise for the dead. They could have reported that the tomb was empty, that the burial wrappings were lying there, and that Jesus was nowhere to be found.

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. “BUT” - this small word, this grammatical conjunction, is the key to life itself. The word but means “except for the fact”, and “not withstanding” and it is often used to express a contract between two actions. This is the essence of what John wants the reader to understand in his gospel story. Peter and the beloved disciple returned home, but Mary stayed. The contrast is between action and waiting.

Mary’s hesitation may strike us as non-productive, less proactive, and possibly timid as she stands crying beside the empty tomb. The other apostles have bustled away, leaving her behind. Her immediate response should have been to follow them, but she stayed. She experienced the emotions of the moment. She lingered with her sorrow. The others fled, but she remained.

Her reward was a vision of the risen Savior. Even though she initially perceived him as the gardener. Once again, the gospel author uses the word “but” to indicate a decision. After speaking to the angels and asking them where the body has been taken, the text tells us that “she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Another, but, another moment of hesitation, another moment of indecision. There is a time of wavering, a pause for the reality to sink in, an instant of faltering before comprehension of a miracle.

At the sound of her spoken name, Mary recognizes Jesus and becomes the first witness to the resurrected Savior. Because she stopped and stayed, even when her best instincts told her that it was useless to remain at an empty tomb. She could have chosen to return with Peter and Paul, she could have left to find the rest of Jesus’ female followers. But she remained.

In our lives, we encounter the word but in multiple situations. Many of them are negative: But if only we have arrived at the hospital on time. But when you get your act together, you are welcome to come back home. But now you are a nothing because no one loved you. These are the conjunctions of uncertainty, of fear, of failure, of dreams deferred or changed. These are the conjunctions of regret, of hopelessness and disappointment. These are the conjunctions of bitterness, envy and emotional pain. We convince ourselves over and over again that our lives would be different, but they are not because of a lack of resouces, an overwhelming sense of despair and a void that the material things of this world cannot fill. But if we had such and such, we tell one another, our lives would be complete and happy and carefree.

Mary’s story is different. But she stayed, and found what her soul was longing for. But she stayed and beheld the King of Kings. But she stayed and discovered the truth of Jesus’ promise that he would arise from the dead. The conjunction of life permeates her part of the gospel story. The doubt of the empty tomb loses its meaning as Jesus is manifested in glory. Because she but stayed.

This Easter season, let us embrace the conjunctions that define us as people of God, redeemed through the blood of Jesus Christ. But for the grace of God, go you and I. We have been given a Savior who loved us enough to die for us, but while we were yet sinners. But, God so loved the world that he sent his only Begotten Son that we would have hope. But, Jesus says, I have come that you may have life and have it abundantly. But I shall raise up this temple on the third day. But today you shall be with me in paradise.

Let us reaffirm that this small word has the ability to transform and empower, to change and reorder, to free us from our fears and anxieties about what is to come. Our Savior has not died, but has overcome the grave; not perished on a cross, but rose in glorious splendor; not gone from our midst, but present here in our lives this day.

May this conjunction remind you that there is always an alternative, always the prospect of a different ending, always another way to transcend the harsh realities of those things which hold us back. Jesus has come to us in the highest form as the conjunction of life and we celebrate this gift of the resurrection and give thanks for his promise of eternal possibilities for us, his children, on this Easter morn. Amen.

"I Love You Anyway"

Sermon 03.14.10 “I Love You Anyway”
The parable of the prodigal son, found only in the gospel of Luke, is so rich a passage that it is almost difficult to find one element in it to preach about in a twelve minute sermon. Much of our fascination with this parable lies in its ability to resonate with everyone, with a story line that reads like a soap opera. There are multiple life experiences to be examined: adolescent rebellion, family estrangement, the appeal of greener grass, the consequences of foolish living, the dynamics of brotherly love, the joy of reunion and the power of forgiveness. It’s got all the Oprah stuff. But we would be here all afternoon if I decided to work through the entire passage in depth to make up for all those snow sermons that you missed. But my guess is that doing so would create a mutiny in the pews or we’d have to order in lunch, so I have chosen to base my sermon on how our lives are affected by the life, death and the unconditional grace of parental love. Please pray with me now.

Gracious God, give us the courage to face up to our failings. Give us the strength to know when we are breaking your heart through our sins. Give us the audacity to approach your throne of grace. Help us to remember the depth of your love. And may the truth of your word be found in the hearing and proclamation of the good news of the gospel message.

If we were retelling this story in modern language, we would say that a man had two sons, one who was a loser, a louse, a rat and the other who was a responsible, decent hard-working young man. The younger son is rude, takes money from his father when it isn’t his right and spends it in the next town on drugs, liquor, lottery tickets and fast women. The older son remains at home, respects his dad and helps with the household chores. He’s not the trouble-maker. He probably goes to church, too.

The younger son runs out of money, and realizes that he’s hit rock bottom. He decides to come home, and beg for a place to stay, even if he has to crash on his father’s front porch. He knows that he’s disgraced himself and is ready to make amends and suck it up.

The father celebrates the son’s return rather than beat him up. There’s a big party, with lots of food, and even new clothes. The festivities are so outrageous that Big Bob’s Beef Smokehouse is hired to cater it. The elder brother gets wind of the celebration, isn’t thrilled with the situation and has it out with the father about the fairness of it all, and says you didn’t give me the time of day, much less a backyard BBQ. The father tells the brother that he loves both children. It doesn’t have a neat ending, with lots of man-hugs and a big thumbs up from Dr. Phil. Life is still complicated. But the father in essence says to the two children, “I love you anyway.”

Now there is one verse in this text that really spoke to the parent’s heart in me and I hope that you will see its significance in the passage. When the younger son asks for his inheritance in verse 12, the response is that the father “divided his property between them.” This is the translation that we have in the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. But surprisingly, the word that is translated as “property” is actually the word bios in the Greek, from which we get our word biology. Bios means life. He divided his life between them. And part of his life went out the door when his son traveled to a distant country. While the son was lost in a world of dissolute living, a part of the father also died.

Many of the losses in our lives are traumatic. When a loved one dies, people often say that something of themselves has also gone into the grave, and that life isn’t worth living without a partner. Less dramatic losses – the loss of health, the loss of a job, the loss of a friendship are small deaths along the way. I’m sure that each and every one of you has been touched by a loss that has sapped your inner strength, tested your faith, and taken a piece of life from you.

The younger son also dies, figuratively speaking. After the inheritance is gone, he is reduced to working in a swine pen, a task that was forbidden by his Jewish religion, and which added to his estrangement. He was lost to his family and his faith until he came to himself. What a beautiful phrase – came to himself. The younger son had to face himself in a pig sty of his own making before he could begin to live again.

We do not know much about the elder son’s situation while the younger son was away. Perhaps he also felt the loss, but in a different way. He might have had to take over the younger son’s chores or had to console his father. Maybe he was missing the camaraderie of having a sibling around.

Unfortunately, he becomes the party-pooper in the story, the one who seemingly spoils the ending. Instead of being the perfect child, he becomes the whiner who stubbornly refuses to celebrate the return of his brother. It is the joy in him that dies, as well as the sense of belonging to the family. He is now the lost child, looking on at a party that he chooses not to attend. Surely, he broke his father’s heart just as much as the younger son. He wasn’t chastised or punished for not coming in. His father said, “I love you anyway”, even if you don’t want to participate in the homecoming ceremony.

Some of us identify with the younger son. We’ve done things we are ashamed of and had to face our sins and failures. We’ve been down and out, have tasted misery, lost hope and tried to return home. We have run out of time and money and finally have come to ourselves, even at the last minute. And sometimes we lose ourselves and end up in the mud of the pig pen time and again.

Some of us identity with the elder son. We’ve lived a good life, made a decent living, raised up a God-fearing family, done community work and been proud of our accomplishments. We’ve pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps, darn it, and made our own way, a way that we are proud of. We’re indignantly virtuous about what’s right and wrong, and as satisfied as a pig in the mud with our manner of life

Most likely, many of us fall somewhere in between the boys. We are made mistakes along the way, but most of the time we have come to ourselves in order to make it right. And it is God who is the model parent for us. No matter what we do, we are still God’s children and God is ready to take us back to life through grace, sheer grace.

When the father in the story sees the younger son in the distance, he runs out to meet him, without even hearing the boy’s confession or remorse. It is enough to see him on the road home. It is enough to know that he is in the right direction. The model of unconditional parental love requires no condemnation and no restitution. It is the grace of the father that restores him to life.

To the elder son, the father also offer grace – “all that I have is yours. My love for you has not changed even if you are upset at your brother’s homecoming. I love you even as you are spiteful and mean-spirited. I love you even as you refuse to share in the joy of the homecoming. You’ve not addressed me as father and you don’t even acknowledge your brother, but you are still in the family. Parental love means that you are still my son, in all your stubbornness and nasty attitude.”

“I love you anyway. I love you anyway” – what a powerful statement to God’s forgiveness and mercy!

The father’s love, God’s love remains the same for us. God is the waiting father, the model of parental love. God is the father that watches out the door for the return of his younger boy, and the father who leaves the party in search of the older son. God has never stopped being a parent to us, even when God’s heart is broken by our sins. “I love you no matter what you’ve done”, God says. “I love you anyway”.

For each son, and for all of us, God offers life through grace alone and with grace comes the gift of life. We never cease being the beloved children of God, despite all of the actions that we do to distance ourselves from the Almighty. We can get lost a gazillion times and still come home. We can stay home and sulk and refuse to join in the celebration. We are not punished but welcomed back, at any time and in any place. Even when we are dead in sin, the gift of life is still waiting for us. The father gives us all that he has including his own life, his bios, in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

“I love you anyway.” As we continue on our Lenten journey, consider the significance of these words, and remember that the unconditional love of our father will not let us go, despite what we have already done and no matter what we plan to do. As we make our way to the cross, let us come to ourselves and recognize the grace that is available to us as children of God. May we receive the gift of life, rather than loss, as we return home. May we remember that grace gives us more than we could ever imagine and much more than we deserve. Amen.

"Isaiah's 7-Step Plan"

Sermon 03.07.10
“Isaiah’s 7-Step Plan”

It is not often that we preach from the Old Testament Scriptures, but this morning we turn to Isaiah because it is a text that has a strong Lenten tone, with reminders to repent and return to God during this holy season. So please pray with me now: Holy One, help us to listen to the clear voices of the prophets. Help us to listen to seek the mind of Christ in our hearing. And may the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be pleasing to Jesus, our strength and our redeemer.

There are many 12-step meeting resources for people with different problems, but none for Christians. There are Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, Over-Eaters Anonymous, and many more. But no one has developed a program where people can come in and say, “Hi, my name is Joanne, and I’m a slacker Christian. I’ve really screwed up when it comes to my faith, and I came to the realization that I need help.” At least, that doesn’t happen publicly in the Protestant tradition. Even the Catholics who invented the confessional kept it private. I’m willing to bet that there isn’t anyone in this sanctuary who is dying to stand up and tell the entire congregation about their sins and how they have failed in their faith journey from time to time.

And so we have the Prophet Isaiah offering us seven steps to getting right with God, and I’d say that that was a bargain – just about half of the steps that the other 12-steps groups require. So let’s all sign up together.

What is striking about the Isaiah’s program is that it is based on imperative verbs. Think back to your English classes in elementary school. Think way back to that lesson on verbs. I won’t ask you to think about the lesson on diagramming sentences, because that’s even too painful a memory for me. Imperative verbs are commands. The best example that I can give you is to talk about training a dog. You command the dog to Sit or to Stay or to Roll Over. An imperative verb instructs you to do something. Isaiah has 7 of these verbs that are the foundation of his plan.

In the first verse, he says Come. Come to the waters, the living waters that God provides. You must Come. Everyone who is spiritually thirsty is invited to the party. God sets the table, but we need to pull up the chair. We need to take action by showing up. Those of you in the sanctuary here this morning have got this step down pat already. You have taken the action this morning to get out of bed, and make your way to church.

The second command is to buy. Isaiah is not talking about consumerism here. He doesn’t tell us to buy a big screen tv, or tickets to the Orioles games or plane fare to Tahiti. He says buy into the program. Make a commitment. Get engaged with your church. Showing up for worship is wonderful, but your heart needs to be there as well. Don’t be making up your grocery list while I’m preaching. Save that task for the offertory collection. Just kidding. Isaiah wants us to buy into having a relationship with Christ that demands more than just a surface level faith. Buy into the grace that is so freely given by our Lord and Savior.

Third, he says eat. This does not mean pigging out on Lois’ fabulous cinnamon cake during the fellowship time after the service. When he uses the word eat, it is in the sense of partaking, experiencing, savoring. The psalmist says taste and see that the Lord is good. Eat and experience fellowship with other Christians. Eat and count the daily blessings that you have received. Eat and learn about the abundant life that Christ offers. We have a holy banquet set before us and it’s time to pick up the fork and dig in with gusto. As chef Emeril would say, “Kick it up a notch!”

Verse 2 gives us the third step of Isaiah’s program. Listen. Listen. It’s starting to get a little challenging here folks. Listen. How many times have we allowed the voices of others to sway us from hearing God’s truth? It’s difficult to tune out the competing voices in our society that want to be heard: the voices of power and greed, voices of selfishness and self-satisfaction, voices of coveting everything that our neighbor has and we don’t. We need to be discriminating in what we listen to, and tune out all of the noise of what our society offers us as the best, the greatest, the most materialistic. We need to listen to the small, still voice of the Holy Spirit, not the holy complex of television sports entertainment, the home shopping network, and the reality shows that exploit our human condition. Listen to the voice of God that comes without commercial interruption.

Once you have started to listen, Isaiah says, you then need to hear me, in verse 3. Stop putting your fingers in your ears and going lalalalalala. Dig out the spiritual earwax, if that’s the problem. Attune your listening so that you actually hear and comprehend the words that are being spoken. Now the tough, tough work is beginning in this recovery plan. Many of us call out to God in pain and anguish, listen for an answer, but fail to hear it, even when it’s as big and loud as a Mack truck. Hear me, God says. Pay attention to what I say. Learn to muffle the other sounds so that my voice comes in loud and clear.

Step five of the program is found in verse six. The prophet tells us to “seek the Lord while he may be found. Seek and make the presence of God a priority in your life. Pursue a single-minded walk with God. Search diligently for times when you can chat, call out, rant against, discuss, mull over, and converse with your heavenly Father. Have the morning coffee hour with Jesus. Every day, each one of us has competing priorities – we all have the same 24 hours in which to accomplish our daily tasks. If we can make the time to get our hair cut, to get our nails done, to walk the dog, to pick up our dry cleaning, to shop for groceries and to mow the lawn (when it is not covered with 12 feet of snow), then we have the ability to set time to seek God. It’s a question of priorities.

There are two more steps that Isaiah lays out for us, both of which are particularly apt for our Lenten discipline. In the seventh verse, he uses the imperative verb Forsake. Forsake – get rid of, throw away, let go. Maybe it’s time for us to abandon whatever doesn’t work in our relationship with God. Decide what is holding you back, what is challenging your faith, and, as the 12-step programs say, “let go and let God. Forsake – leave behind. Unpack whatever you are carrying on your backs, lay your weary burdens down and forsake all the other gods in your life.

Lastly, we hear the verb Return. Once you have let go of the bad, then you need to grab the good. Come home to the loving arms of the father, as did the prodigal son. Turn to what is right, what is positive, what is faithful. Repent and turn to God for mercy and forgiveness. Returning can be hard if you’ve been away for awhile. The return could be a rough uphill climb, but the view at the top is great.

So here’s the wrap-up for our spiritual recovery; here is Isaiah’s 7-step process to a right relationship with the Holy One: Come up to the table, buy into a commitment with Christ, eat and taste the goodness of the Lord, listen to God with your mind and heart, hear the voice that is calling you home, see the presence of the Holy Spirit in your life, forsake whatever calls you to the dark side, and return to the arms of your master. It’s time now to get with the program.

Repetition, Ritual and Reinforcement

Sermon 04.18.10
Repetition, Ritual, Reinforcement
“Third time’s a charm” is one of those phases that we utter at least one time in our lives. "Third time's a charm," we say to our passenger, smiling nervously as we try "one more time" to get the car to start on that snowy morning. "Third time's the charm" is the comfort we offer to a 5-year-old when the child timidly approaches the new two-wheeler after already weathering two crashes. “Third time’s a charm” we tell a friend when he or she has had two failed marriages and is heading down the aisle again. "Third time's a charm" is the mantra batters recite when they've already got two strikes against them.

The truth is, it seems that sometimes good and bad things really do like to happen in threes. It really does take three times to get going, work out, sink in and make an impact.

Anyone working or living with children
knows that messages, directions, orders, everything has to be repeated multiple times before anything seems to register. Has anyone ever taken out the garbage after being asked only once? How many of your children cleaned their rooms after one invitation?

But instructions aren't the only things we need to hear more than once in order to take them to heart. All of us who have ever loved or been loved know that the words "I love you" can never be spoken too often. For some of us who have weathered the hurts of broken relationships, saying, "I love you," for the first time again is one of the most frightening things we will ever do.

Saying "I love you" out loud is an important milestone in any relationship -- whether you are

- whispering it to a new sweetheart,
- promising it to a new child,
- admitting it to an estranged parent,
- offering it to a lonely friend,
- revealing it to a rival sibling.

Saying "I love you" once is never enough. It is just the beginning. We must say "I love you" over and over again -- we must hear "I love you" over and over again -- before we begin to trust the reality of those words and before we can feel the weight of the love that lies behind them.

In today's gospel text, Jesus asks Peter three separate times, "Do you love me?" In part, we can understand this as the author's way of canceling out each one of Peter's shameful denials of Jesus on the night he was arrested and betrayed. But Jesus' persistence demonstrates more than a tit-for-tat scorekeeping of rights and wrongs. The risen Christ ties each of Peter's confessions of love for him to a three times repeated command -- "Care for my sheep."

What took Peter three times to get --and what takes all of us a lifetime to practice -- is that Jesus' question about "loving" and his command about "feeding" are one directive. Peter didn't understand immediately the implications of what it means to love Christ.
Truly loving Christ means feeding the sheep -- it means loving, protecting, caring for all those whom Christ loves. "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then feed my lambs"; "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then tend my sheep"; "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then feed my sheep." Loving Christ and loving and tending Christ's flock are one and the same thing.

Bob Dees, the campus minister at the University of Alabama, tells this story:
Three little boys were debating whose mom was the most loving. The first little boy said: "My mommy loves me because I gave her a quarter, but she gave it back, saying 'Go and buy a piece of candy.' "

The second little boy argued that his mother loved him more because "If I give her a quarter, she gives me back two quarters for two pieces of candy."

The third little boy, seeing the direction of the debate, scratched his head and said, "Well, my mom loves me more because she would keep the quarter and then tell me how much that quarter will help her pay the bills."

The love confessed and the love expressed can take many different forms -- and not all of them are pleasant. For every loving moment spent cuddling a new baby, there are an awful lot of equally loving but not so lovely moments spent changing smelly diapers. Loving a spouse is planning a romantic candlelight dinner for two -- and going to the ballet when you would rather go to the basketball game (or vice versa). A loving friend gives you a comfortable place for coffee and conversation, but it also means being there for him or her at 2 a.m. when you are needed.
Tending sheep and loving Christ is sometimes messy, inconvenient, upsetting and uncomfortable. It takes more than just good intentions to make the kind of loving commitment Jesus was trying to get Peter to admit to -- it takes habits.

In theological circles, rituals is a hot new word for a very old idea. The concept behind "ritual" is that of establishing a pattern of living that is itself an expression of an inner philosophy of life.
Establishing faith and love as a pattern of living takes commitment to the "three R's": Repetition, Ritual and Reinforcement.

1. Repetition: Jesus repeated his question to Peter three times -- not out of doubt or because of Peter's denseness, but in order to strengthen the power of his words. With each "Do you love me," the meaning and inferences behind this query seeped more deeply into Peter's heart. In the last few decades, repetition as a way of learning has gotten bad press for being simply "rote memorization."

But there is another phrase children use to describe something they have committed to memory -- through repetition, we "learn by heart." All those prayers, those actions, those responses to life that we "learn by heart" through constant repetition become a part of our heart. "I love you" -- "Our Father ..." -- "Praise God" -- "God bless you." All these phrases represent repeated expressions of love and faith in our lives -- and they are no less powerful for having been repeated so often and so well that they are "learned by heart."

2. Ritual: Rituals need not be mindless acts; indeed, rituals rightly performed are mindful acts. We all have our personal rising rituals: we get up, brush our teeth, take a shower, walk the dog, make the coffee, read the paper or do some version of this routine. The consistency is comforting and settles our systems before we launch into another busy, hectic day. Have you established a similar rituals in your spiritual life? Do you have a pattern of faithfulness, that serves the same purpose in your relationship to Christ?

We need faith-rituals to give us stability when everything else around us seems to be shifting. All faith rituals need not be as formal as going to church or receiving communion. A ritual might be breathing a prayer of thanksgiving every time you enter into your home. It might be looking for your church's steeple from the freeway on your morning commute. The Sisters of Mercy taught me to say a prayer every time I heard a police or fire siren going off.

3. Reinforcement: It is so hard to stay on a diet when you hit one of those "weight plateaus" -- where no matter how good you are, how many salads you eat, your scales refuse to budge. We need periodic positive reinforcement to keep the rituals of our faith renewed and refreshed. This is why we need to hear "I love you," as often as we need to say it. Practiced faithfully, a ritual in our lives will create its own reinforcement. Well-loved and well-tended sheep respond devotedly to their shepherd.

Loving Christ, living a life faithfully tending to Christ's business, becomes a super-natural reflex in a godly life. Repetition, ritual and reinforcement are the three R’s that Jesus tried to impress upon Peter and that come down to us today. This is the good news – That “saying I love you” never goes out of fashion, that habits which are developed and nurtured become fully engrained in living lives of Christ-like behavior, and that we, as a community of believer, can reinforce the other two attributes.
Praise God for the example of Peter; God for continuing to give direction to us through the impact of the Holy Scriptures. Amen.

Repetition, Ritual and Reinforcement

Sermon 04.18.10
Repetition, Ritual, Reinforcement
“Third time’s a charm” is one of those phases that we utter at least one time in our lives. "Third time's a charm," we say to our passenger, smiling nervously as we try "one more time" to get the car to start on that snowy morning. "Third time's the charm" is the comfort we offer to a 5-year-old when the child timidly approaches the new two-wheeler after already weathering two crashes. “Third time’s a charm” we tell a friend when he or she has had two failed marriages and is heading down the aisle again. "Third time's a charm" is the mantra batters recite when they've already got two strikes against them.

The truth is, it seems that sometimes good and bad things really do like to happen in threes. It really does take three times to get going, work out, sink in and make an impact.

Anyone working or living with children
knows that messages, directions, orders, everything has to be repeated multiple times before anything seems to register. Has anyone ever taken out the garbage after being asked only once? How many of your children cleaned their rooms after one invitation?

But instructions aren't the only things we need to hear more than once in order to take them to heart. All of us who have ever loved or been loved know that the words "I love you" can never be spoken too often. For some of us who have weathered the hurts of broken relationships, saying, "I love you," for the first time again is one of the most frightening things we will ever do.

Saying "I love you" out loud is an important milestone in any relationship -- whether you are

- whispering it to a new sweetheart,
- promising it to a new child,
- admitting it to an estranged parent,
- offering it to a lonely friend,
- revealing it to a rival sibling.

Saying "I love you" once is never enough. It is just the beginning. We must say "I love you" over and over again -- we must hear "I love you" over and over again -- before we begin to trust the reality of those words and before we can feel the weight of the love that lies behind them.

In today's gospel text, Jesus asks Peter three separate times, "Do you love me?" In part, we can understand this as the author's way of canceling out each one of Peter's shameful denials of Jesus on the night he was arrested and betrayed. But Jesus' persistence demonstrates more than a tit-for-tat scorekeeping of rights and wrongs. The risen Christ ties each of Peter's confessions of love for him to a three times repeated command -- "Care for my sheep."

What took Peter three times to get --and what takes all of us a lifetime to practice -- is that Jesus' question about "loving" and his command about "feeding" are one directive. Peter didn't understand immediately the implications of what it means to love Christ.
Truly loving Christ means feeding the sheep -- it means loving, protecting, caring for all those whom Christ loves. "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then feed my lambs"; "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then tend my sheep"; "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then feed my sheep." Loving Christ and loving and tending Christ's flock are one and the same thing.

Bob Dees, the campus minister at the University of Alabama, tells this story:
Three little boys were debating whose mom was the most loving. The first little boy said: "My mommy loves me because I gave her a quarter, but she gave it back, saying 'Go and buy a piece of candy.' "

The second little boy argued that his mother loved him more because "If I give her a quarter, she gives me back two quarters for two pieces of candy."

The third little boy, seeing the direction of the debate, scratched his head and said, "Well, my mom loves me more because she would keep the quarter and then tell me how much that quarter will help her pay the bills."

The love confessed and the love expressed can take many different forms -- and not all of them are pleasant. For every loving moment spent cuddling a new baby, there are an awful lot of equally loving but not so lovely moments spent changing smelly diapers. Loving a spouse is planning a romantic candlelight dinner for two -- and going to the ballet when you would rather go to the basketball game (or vice versa). A loving friend gives you a comfortable place for coffee and conversation, but it also means being there for him or her at 2 a.m. when you are needed.
Tending sheep and loving Christ is sometimes messy, inconvenient, upsetting and uncomfortable. It takes more than just good intentions to make the kind of loving commitment Jesus was trying to get Peter to admit to -- it takes habits.

In theological circles, rituals is a hot new word for a very old idea. The concept behind "ritual" is that of establishing a pattern of living that is itself an expression of an inner philosophy of life.
Establishing faith and love as a pattern of living takes commitment to the "three R's": Repetition, Ritual and Reinforcement.

1. Repetition: Jesus repeated his question to Peter three times -- not out of doubt or because of Peter's denseness, but in order to strengthen the power of his words. With each "Do you love me," the meaning and inferences behind this query seeped more deeply into Peter's heart. In the last few decades, repetition as a way of learning has gotten bad press for being simply "rote memorization."

But there is another phrase children use to describe something they have committed to memory -- through repetition, we "learn by heart." All those prayers, those actions, those responses to life that we "learn by heart" through constant repetition become a part of our heart. "I love you" -- "Our Father ..." -- "Praise God" -- "God bless you." All these phrases represent repeated expressions of love and faith in our lives -- and they are no less powerful for having been repeated so often and so well that they are "learned by heart."

2. Ritual: Rituals need not be mindless acts; indeed, rituals rightly performed are mindful acts. We all have our personal rising rituals: we get up, brush our teeth, take a shower, walk the dog, make the coffee, read the paper or do some version of this routine. The consistency is comforting and settles our systems before we launch into another busy, hectic day. Have you established a similar rituals in your spiritual life? Do you have a pattern of faithfulness, that serves the same purpose in your relationship to Christ?

We need faith-rituals to give us stability when everything else around us seems to be shifting. All faith rituals need not be as formal as going to church or receiving communion. A ritual might be breathing a prayer of thanksgiving every time you enter into your home. It might be looking for your church's steeple from the freeway on your morning commute. The Sisters of Mercy taught me to say a prayer every time I heard a police or fire siren going off.

3. Reinforcement: It is so hard to stay on a diet when you hit one of those "weight plateaus" -- where no matter how good you are, how many salads you eat, your scales refuse to budge. We need periodic positive reinforcement to keep the rituals of our faith renewed and refreshed. This is why we need to hear "I love you," as often as we need to say it. Practiced faithfully, a ritual in our lives will create its own reinforcement. Well-loved and well-tended sheep respond devotedly to their shepherd.

Loving Christ, living a life faithfully tending to Christ's business, becomes a super-natural reflex in a godly life. Repetition, ritual and reinforcement are the three R’s that Jesus tried to impress upon Peter and that come down to us today. This is the good news – That “saying I love you” never goes out of fashion, that habits which are developed and nurtured become fully engrained in living lives of Christ-like behavior, and that we, as a community of believer, can reinforce the other two attributes.
Praise God for the example of Peter; God for continuing to give direction to us through the impact of the Holy Scriptures. Amen.