Sermon from July 24, 2011
(Pentecost 6 – Year A)
Romans 8: 26-39
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas
During this summer, I have had to become convinced of some things.
Over Memorial Day weekend, we had an air conditioner malfunction at our house that cost us $600 to repair.
Just two weeks later, another air conditioner repair set us back by another $500.
Therefore, last month, a salesperson from an air conditioning company sat down in our living room.
The salesperson presented stacks of evidence to convince me that we needed to replace our entire air conditioning unit, to the tune of thousands of dollars.
In order to convince Susan and me to make such a major purchase, the salesman made his pitch, presenting evidence that was designed to convince us.
First of all, he pointed out that our old a/c unit was the original unit to the house, which was built in 1987.
Next, we were shown charts and graphs of how a new, energy-efficient a/c unit would reduce our electricity bill, eventually justifying the cost of a new unit.
As a final part of his sales pitch, he promised to deduct the cost of our last repair from the total bill – which was the last piece of evidence that we needed.
We decided to bite the bullet and purchase a whole new air conditioner last month – because we were convinced.
Our God is in the business of unrelenting conviction.
Our God is in the business of persuasion.
Our God is constantly laying out evidence, stacks of evidence to convince us that nothing can separate us from God’s love.
Almost two thousand years ago, the Apostle Paul had come to the end of his life.
As an old man who had already seen many pieces of evidence, the Apostle Paul writes a beautiful letter to the community of Christians in the city of Rome.
In his letter to the Romans, the Apostle Paul lays out the evidence, proclaiming:
“Who will separate us from the love of Christ?
Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
No!
For I am convinced that
Neither death, nor life,
Nor angels, nor rulers,
Nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
Nor anything else in all creation,
Will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
According to Paul, his own life is enough evidence to convince him that nothing, nothing can separate him from the love of God.
In his life, Paul had been shipwrecked in the Mediterranean Sea while spreading the Gospel.
Yet at the end of his life, Paul is convinced that nothing can separate him from love.
Paul had been put in prison for preaching Jesus Christ.
Yet Paul is still convinced that nothing can separate him from love.
Paul had endured hardships, riots, beatings, hunger and sleepless nights, yet Paul is all the more convinced.
For the God of persuasion stacks up the evidence for Paul:
That neither death, nor life,
Nor angels, nor rulers,
Nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
Nor anything else in all creation,
Will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
In this last week, I have seen stacks and stacks of evidence to convince me that nothing can separate me from the love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Susan and I spent this last week at Camp Allen, serving as the session directors for a week of camp for 3rd and 4th graders.
I endured 7 sleepless nights in a bunk bed on a paper-thin mattress,
Yet I awoke each morning to the evidence of a line of campers who were using a marks-a-lot to write down their morning prayers on a piece of poster board.
I saw campers with sore throats and mosquito bites and twinges of homesickness,
Yet I celebrated Communion around the lake with over 350 young people at the all-camp Eucharist, youth who lifted their voices to Jesus in the sweetest music you have ever heard.
I dragged my sore feet each night into 7 different cabins for bedtime prayers,
Yet by the illumination of a single candle, each night I received the deepest of theological questions, from 61 children who are hungry and thirsty for the love of Jesus Christ.
From my week at camp,
I am more convinced than ever that
Neither death, nor life,
Nor angels, nor rulers,
Nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
Nor anything else in all creation,
Will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
The God of persuasion, the God of conviction, will also stack up evidence for the 8 youth and 3 adults from St. Alban’s who depart today on their mission trip to Gulf Coast Mississippi.
The God of conviction will convince our missionaries from St. Alban’s that we can never be separated from the love of God.
The youth of St. Alban’s will endure a long car ride down Interstate 10.
They will get on each other’s nerves.
They will see first-hand the suffering and homelessness that the world has long ago forgotten in the wake of hurricanes.
And the God of persuasion will lay out the evidence.
The God of conviction will stack up the evidence for our youth and adults as they encounter poor people who still have hope,
As they see the face of Christ in the faces of the suffering,
As they become a body of Christ, a community who will proclaim to us:
I am convinced that nothing, nothing, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
However, there are other voices of persuasion and conviction in this world.
There are salespeople who persuade us that we are only loved if we have the latest iPhone or the newest shoes or the most powerful tools from Home Depot.
There are salespeople who persuade us that we are only loved by having a perfect body, a body that is only achieved by steroids and botox, by nip and tuck.
There are even very crafty salespeople who persuade us that the central message of Christianity is a life of happiness and prosperity,
When the real message of Christianity is a cross, a cross that is evidence that nothing, nothing can separate us from the love of God.
For if you read the holy scriptures of God,
If you pray every day,
If you regularly eat of the bread of heaven,
If you hang out with God’s poor and suffering people,
Then the God of persuasion will lay out stacks and stacks of evidence in front of you.
The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ will convince you that nothing, nothing can separate you from the love of God.
My friends, our God is an unrelenting and persuasive salesperson - who sits in your living room to convince you of the best news in the world.
God is a persuasive salesperson - who convinces me through the voices of 8-year old campers raised in songs of worship to the Lord Jesus.
God is a persuasive salesperson who stacks up evidence through toothless, homeless, penniless hurricane victims, people who display the glory of God, the glory of a human being fully alive.
God is a persuasive salesperson - whose most convincing evidence of love is an olive-skinned carpenter from Nazareth, nailed to a piece of wood.
For neither death, nor life,
Nor angels, nor rulers,
Nor things present, nor things to come,
Nor powers, nor height, nor depth,
Nor anything else in all creation,
Will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
I am convinced.
AMEN.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Birthright by Grace
Sermon from July 10, 2011
(Pentecost 4 – Year A)
Genesis 25: 19-34
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas
I have always loved Jacob.
Jacob is the crafty schemer whose story is told in the book of Genesis.
Even during her pregnancy, Jacob’s parents, Issac and Rebekah, know that their sons are going to cause trouble.
Because while Rebekah is pregnant, her twin sons struggle and fight with each other in-utero.
At the birth of the twins, Esau comes out first, all red and hairy.
The word Esau is a word play on the Hebrew word for the color ‘red.’
Then comes out the second boy, Jacob, with his tiny baby hand gripping onto his slightly older brother’s heel.
From the very beginning, Jacob attempts to steal the favored birthright of the firstborn.
In the ancient Hebrew world, birthright meant everything.
Birthright meant a greater share of the family inheritance.
Yet, according to the Law, birthright and greater favor only belonged to the oldest son.
As the boys grow up, the older twin, Esau, loves to hunt and watch ESPN Sports Center with his father, Isaac.
Yet Jacob, the younger twin, is a momma’s boy.
Jacob is a quiet man, a crafty schemer who will do anything to gain his father’s favor and birthright.
One day, the rugged Esau comes home from football practice, after the hard workout of two-a-days in the August heat.
Esau is famished.
And Jacob is standing at the stove stirring a pot of deep, red chili.
Esau shoves Jacob in the chest and demands:
“Give me some of that red chili, you little wimp!”
The crafty little Jacob replies:
“I’ll give you some chili, in exchange for your birthright, the inheritance and favor of our father.”
And so the red-faced, red-blooded Esau eats the red chili, as Jacob steals the family birthright.
Stories of sibling rivalry are as old as the hills.
In the first chapters of the book of Genesis, the first murder recorded in Scripture involves the first brothers, as Cain kills his brother, Abel.
And although my own brother and I have never resorted to such drastic measures, we have had our moments of grabbing each other’s heels.
When my brother and I were boys, my mother would make awesome lemon icebox pies in the summertime.
Every part of the lemon icebox pie was homemade:
The graham cracker crust was formed by crushing graham crackers between pieces of waxed paper.
Fresh lemons were squeezed into the bowl, with a strainer to catch the seeds.
The white, peaked meriange was made by whipping together egg whites and sugar, using her electric mixer with two metal beaters.
When my mom had finished whipping the meriange for her pie, she pulled the beaters out of the mixing bowl – and then disconnected first one metal beater, then the second beater.
Mom would then hand one beater to me – and the other one to my brother - for us to lick the excess meriange off with our tongues.
Immediately upon seeing the beaters come out of the bowl, I would quickly gauge which one had the most excess meriange clinging to it.
As my mother tried her darnedest not to play favorites between her sons, she would insist that each beater had the exact same amount of meriange on it.
Yet cries from my brother and I would ensue:
“That’s not fair!
You are just giving him that one because he is the oldest!”
or
“That’s not fair!
He is getting more, yet I was the one who helped you with the pie more than he did!”
Each of us grabbed onto our brother’s heel wanting to be the first – and the most – and the best.
Each of us tried to steal the inheritance, the favor of just one more lick of sugary goodness.
Each of us brothers deeply desired to steal the birthright, the inheritance of the favored son.
Whether it is excess meriange stirred up by my mother,
Or whether it is a pot of red chili stirred up by Jacob,
Or whether it is the inheritance of the oldest and favored son that was stolen from Esau by Jacob,
I believe that we really do not want justice.
Really, deep down, we do not want to be treated equally by our parents.
Really, deep down, we want to cling onto the heel of our brother and be the first – and the most – and the best.
For all the talk in the American Declaration of Independence about how “all men are created equal” - we really, deep down, do not mean it.
Our human nature,
The nature of the scheming Jacob,
The nature of two brothers fighting over meriange,
Is not to be equal,
But to receive more than others.
A deep desire of the human heart is to steal the birthright.
I make these comments because when I examine my own heart, I discover that I want to grab onto the heel of others and steal the birthright.
When I was on vacation for the last few weeks, Susan and I went through our closets, getting rid of clothes that have gone out of style.
I took carload after carload to Goodwill, filled with shirts and pants that were “so 1990” that Susan would never allow me to wear them again.
Yet somehow I have stolen the birthright from others and convinced myself that I am worthy of wearing brand, new clothes that are in style - while letting others wear my castoffs.
If I really believed in my heart that all of God’s children are created equally,
If I really believed in my heart that all of God’s children are worthy of the birthright of dignity,
Then I would buy brand, new Ralph Lauren shirts at Dillard’s, at full price, and drive them across the bridge into East Waco and give them to the Jacobs of this world, so that they do not have to steal the birthright of dignity.
Because the dignity of wearing brand, new, in-style clothing is their inheritance, just as much as it is mine.
For in God’s story, through the entire narrative of scripture, we know that God does love all of us equally.
But in terms of the way that God treats us, God does not care for each of us equally.
In God’s upside down story, God continually gives the beater on the electric mixer with the most meriange hanging off of it:
To the runt shepherd boy, the youngest of all 8 of Jesse’s sons, who becomes King David.
And to the seemingly unwed mother named Mary from the po-dunk village of Nazareth.
And to the hookers and to the tax-collectors and to the poor.
In God’s amazing story, God continually prefers the youngest twin, the mama’s boy who steals the birthright from the eldest, just for a stupid pot of red chili.
For God continually, continually, prefers the poor, the minorities, the runts, the losers, the uninsured.
And Jesus Christ ushers in a new age, a new age where the birthright is not given to the oldest twin brother – and the birthright is not stolen by the youngest.
Through the grace and baptism of Jesus Christ, all of us receive the inheritance of the kingdom of God.
All of us receive the birthright as God’s favored daughter, as God’s favored son.
My brothers and sisters, I do not pray for God’s justice.
Because as a white, employed, educated American male, who is also the oldest son,
If I was truly treated equally,
If I truly received God’s justice,
Then I am sunk.
Yet I pray for God’s grace.
I pray that God will forgive me for clinging to my brother’s heel, demanding my inheritance.
I pray that God will forgive me for tricking my sisters and brothers into accepting the metal beater that has the least amount of meriange.
Therefore, I do not pray for justice for myself,
But I pray for grace.
For we are all Jacob, grabbing and scheming to steal the birthright, the inheritance of the saints in light.
Yet as the scheming Jacob, we are saved and loved despite stealing from the favored son with a pot of red chili.
We are saved and loved despite nailing the favored Son of God to a reddened Cross.
I have always loved Jacob.
Because as the crafty and scheming Jacob, we are saved and loved - and favored -
Only by grace.
AMEN.
(Pentecost 4 – Year A)
Genesis 25: 19-34
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas
I have always loved Jacob.
Jacob is the crafty schemer whose story is told in the book of Genesis.
Even during her pregnancy, Jacob’s parents, Issac and Rebekah, know that their sons are going to cause trouble.
Because while Rebekah is pregnant, her twin sons struggle and fight with each other in-utero.
At the birth of the twins, Esau comes out first, all red and hairy.
The word Esau is a word play on the Hebrew word for the color ‘red.’
Then comes out the second boy, Jacob, with his tiny baby hand gripping onto his slightly older brother’s heel.
From the very beginning, Jacob attempts to steal the favored birthright of the firstborn.
In the ancient Hebrew world, birthright meant everything.
Birthright meant a greater share of the family inheritance.
Yet, according to the Law, birthright and greater favor only belonged to the oldest son.
As the boys grow up, the older twin, Esau, loves to hunt and watch ESPN Sports Center with his father, Isaac.
Yet Jacob, the younger twin, is a momma’s boy.
Jacob is a quiet man, a crafty schemer who will do anything to gain his father’s favor and birthright.
One day, the rugged Esau comes home from football practice, after the hard workout of two-a-days in the August heat.
Esau is famished.
And Jacob is standing at the stove stirring a pot of deep, red chili.
Esau shoves Jacob in the chest and demands:
“Give me some of that red chili, you little wimp!”
The crafty little Jacob replies:
“I’ll give you some chili, in exchange for your birthright, the inheritance and favor of our father.”
And so the red-faced, red-blooded Esau eats the red chili, as Jacob steals the family birthright.
Stories of sibling rivalry are as old as the hills.
In the first chapters of the book of Genesis, the first murder recorded in Scripture involves the first brothers, as Cain kills his brother, Abel.
And although my own brother and I have never resorted to such drastic measures, we have had our moments of grabbing each other’s heels.
When my brother and I were boys, my mother would make awesome lemon icebox pies in the summertime.
Every part of the lemon icebox pie was homemade:
The graham cracker crust was formed by crushing graham crackers between pieces of waxed paper.
Fresh lemons were squeezed into the bowl, with a strainer to catch the seeds.
The white, peaked meriange was made by whipping together egg whites and sugar, using her electric mixer with two metal beaters.
When my mom had finished whipping the meriange for her pie, she pulled the beaters out of the mixing bowl – and then disconnected first one metal beater, then the second beater.
Mom would then hand one beater to me – and the other one to my brother - for us to lick the excess meriange off with our tongues.
Immediately upon seeing the beaters come out of the bowl, I would quickly gauge which one had the most excess meriange clinging to it.
As my mother tried her darnedest not to play favorites between her sons, she would insist that each beater had the exact same amount of meriange on it.
Yet cries from my brother and I would ensue:
“That’s not fair!
You are just giving him that one because he is the oldest!”
or
“That’s not fair!
He is getting more, yet I was the one who helped you with the pie more than he did!”
Each of us grabbed onto our brother’s heel wanting to be the first – and the most – and the best.
Each of us tried to steal the inheritance, the favor of just one more lick of sugary goodness.
Each of us brothers deeply desired to steal the birthright, the inheritance of the favored son.
Whether it is excess meriange stirred up by my mother,
Or whether it is a pot of red chili stirred up by Jacob,
Or whether it is the inheritance of the oldest and favored son that was stolen from Esau by Jacob,
I believe that we really do not want justice.
Really, deep down, we do not want to be treated equally by our parents.
Really, deep down, we want to cling onto the heel of our brother and be the first – and the most – and the best.
For all the talk in the American Declaration of Independence about how “all men are created equal” - we really, deep down, do not mean it.
Our human nature,
The nature of the scheming Jacob,
The nature of two brothers fighting over meriange,
Is not to be equal,
But to receive more than others.
A deep desire of the human heart is to steal the birthright.
I make these comments because when I examine my own heart, I discover that I want to grab onto the heel of others and steal the birthright.
When I was on vacation for the last few weeks, Susan and I went through our closets, getting rid of clothes that have gone out of style.
I took carload after carload to Goodwill, filled with shirts and pants that were “so 1990” that Susan would never allow me to wear them again.
Yet somehow I have stolen the birthright from others and convinced myself that I am worthy of wearing brand, new clothes that are in style - while letting others wear my castoffs.
If I really believed in my heart that all of God’s children are created equally,
If I really believed in my heart that all of God’s children are worthy of the birthright of dignity,
Then I would buy brand, new Ralph Lauren shirts at Dillard’s, at full price, and drive them across the bridge into East Waco and give them to the Jacobs of this world, so that they do not have to steal the birthright of dignity.
Because the dignity of wearing brand, new, in-style clothing is their inheritance, just as much as it is mine.
For in God’s story, through the entire narrative of scripture, we know that God does love all of us equally.
But in terms of the way that God treats us, God does not care for each of us equally.
In God’s upside down story, God continually gives the beater on the electric mixer with the most meriange hanging off of it:
To the runt shepherd boy, the youngest of all 8 of Jesse’s sons, who becomes King David.
And to the seemingly unwed mother named Mary from the po-dunk village of Nazareth.
And to the hookers and to the tax-collectors and to the poor.
In God’s amazing story, God continually prefers the youngest twin, the mama’s boy who steals the birthright from the eldest, just for a stupid pot of red chili.
For God continually, continually, prefers the poor, the minorities, the runts, the losers, the uninsured.
And Jesus Christ ushers in a new age, a new age where the birthright is not given to the oldest twin brother – and the birthright is not stolen by the youngest.
Through the grace and baptism of Jesus Christ, all of us receive the inheritance of the kingdom of God.
All of us receive the birthright as God’s favored daughter, as God’s favored son.
My brothers and sisters, I do not pray for God’s justice.
Because as a white, employed, educated American male, who is also the oldest son,
If I was truly treated equally,
If I truly received God’s justice,
Then I am sunk.
Yet I pray for God’s grace.
I pray that God will forgive me for clinging to my brother’s heel, demanding my inheritance.
I pray that God will forgive me for tricking my sisters and brothers into accepting the metal beater that has the least amount of meriange.
Therefore, I do not pray for justice for myself,
But I pray for grace.
For we are all Jacob, grabbing and scheming to steal the birthright, the inheritance of the saints in light.
Yet as the scheming Jacob, we are saved and loved despite stealing from the favored son with a pot of red chili.
We are saved and loved despite nailing the favored Son of God to a reddened Cross.
I have always loved Jacob.
Because as the crafty and scheming Jacob, we are saved and loved - and favored -
Only by grace.
AMEN.
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