Jesus Scares Me, This I Know

Sermon from August 7, 2011
(Pentecost 8 – Year A)
Matthew 14: 22-33
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

Jesus can be a pretty scary guy.
While Jesus goes up to the top of a mountain to pray by himself, Jesus makes his followers get into a boat.
The boat gets caught up in high winds.
And waves crash over the boat carrying the disciples.

And that’s when Jesus really gets scary.
After 3 o’clock in the morning, Jesus comes walking toward the boat, walking on the water.
The disciples cry out in total fear:
“Help, it’s a ghost!”

Sometimes you just have to listen to the scriptures with an ear for dry humor.
Because Peter then asks this “ghost”:
“Lord, is that you?”

Duh!
Like who else do you know who walks on water at 3:00 AM and scares the living daylights out of you?

So Jesus responds:
“Who else do you think it is, you knucklehead?
Now get out of that boat and walk to me.”

As Peter steps out of the boat, he becomes distracted by the wind.
Peter then starts to sink – and he panics in fear.
Yet Jesus reaches out his hand – and he catches Peter.

When Jesus and his followers all get back into the boat, the wind stops.
Those in the boat then worship Jesus, as Peter and the other disciples continue the journey, the walk from fear to worship.
For the walk to Jesus across the water begins with fear.

My deep encounters with Jesus almost always begin with fear.
Some of you might not realize this, but I get apprehensive before I preach.
I was especially apprehensive in this last week, as we had 3 funerals at St. Alban’s.
I stepped into this pulpit 3 times in the last several days to deliver very different funeral sermons each time, sermons that I hoped would honor Jesus, as well as honor the life of the deceased.

As I sat with my laptop to write each one of those sermons, I was afraid, afraid that I would preach with words that might convey distorted beliefs about death and resurrection.
As I walked up the aisle to begin the liturgy of the burial of the dead, my palms were sweaty and I felt as if I just seen a ghost walking toward me upon the waters.
As I stepped into the pulpit, I was afraid, afraid that I would mess up or lose it or say something that would discredit Jesus’ message of resurrection and love.

Also, you might not know this, but each and every Sunday, when I get ready to step into this pulpit, I am afraid.
I am afraid because I know the weight and responsibility of preaching the Word of God.
I am afraid because I know that God might be asking me to say something to you that could make you upset or make you not like me anymore.
When I preach, I am afraid, afraid because I know that I will encounter Jesus, the Son of God.
For the walk to Jesus across the water begins with fear.

And Jesus knows that he can be a pretty scary guy.
When the angels announce his birth in Bethlehem, the shepherds who are keeping watch over their flocks by night - are sore afraid.
When Jesus tells his followers that that must take up their cross daily – they are afraid.
Even when God raises Jesus from the dead, the first reaction of the women when they meet the resurrected Jesus – is that they are afraid.

It is okay if Jesus scares the livin’ daylights out of us.
It is okay to be afraid of the difficult things that Jesus asks us to do.
Because the walk to Jesus across the water begins with fear.

Every Sunday, I am a little scared and a bit nervous before worship begins.
And as you walk into St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, I want you to be afraid, as well.
I want you to feel like you have just seen a ghost, walking on the water to you.
I want you to call out:
“Jesus, is that you who is walking toward me from across the water?”

And through the worship service, through the reading of scripture, through the sermon, through the music, through the prayers, through the bread and wine, Jesus will call back to you:
“Yes, it’s me, you knucklehead!
Now get out of that boat and walk to me.”

After you encounter the Holy Ghost,
After you take a risk by stepping out of the boat,
After you begin to sink because of second thoughts,
Jesus will clutch your hand and raise you up.

And then, you will be moved from a place of fear - to a place of worship and love.
For the walk to the worship of Jesus begins with fear.

In the worship leaflet this morning, you will see an increased number of announcements, announcements about activities and programs that are beginning to ramp up as we enter the fall season.
I want you to read about these opportunities and events – and be a little scared.
I want you to feel as if you have just seen a ghost, a ghost walking to you on the water, as you ask these questions:

Is that you, Jesus, who is asking me to go to a Bible study when I feel confused by the Bible?
Is that you, Jesus, who is asking me to pack up a backpack for some kid I have never met, when I have so many things to do this August?
Is that you, Jesus, who is asking me to go to Sunday school, when I like to sleep late on Sundays?
Is that you, Jesus, who is asking me to sign up for a Gratitude Gathering later this month – when I have no idea whom I will meet there?

Despite these 105-plus degree temperatures, the fall season in the church is upon us.
And this fall, my hope is that each one of you will try something new and a bit scary.
My hope is that each of you will step out of the boat and get your feet wet.
My hope is that you will start to sink – so that you can experience that it is only Jesus who reaches out his hand to raise you up.
This fall, my hope is that we will take new risks to walk on the water with Jesus.

For if you are not a just a little bit scared,
If your palms are not sweaty and your face is not as white as a ghost,
If you are not trembling with fear as you follow Jesus to the cross,
Then maybe your God is not big enough.

You see, it is okay is to approach the Son of God with trembling and fear.
But you do have to take the first step and get out of the boat.
And then Jesus will lift you up - to walk in trust and love.

Jesus loves me, this I know.
And Jesus scares me, this I also know.

For the walk to Jesus across the water
Begins - with fear.

AMEN.

Choose Jesus Christ

Sermon from February 13, 2011
(Epiphany 6 – Year A)
Deuteronomy 30: 15-20
St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

I just knew that if I watched TV long enough last Sunday night, I would get me some good sermon material.
After the unfortunate singing of the National Anthem by Christina Aguilera,
After the opening kick-off between the Steelers and the Packers,
After the retro-80s half-time show,
After all of that, the hit TV show Glee was back on for a brand new episode.

For those who do not know, Glee is a TV show on Fox about a high school glee club.
The glee club is filled with a menagerie of kids:
The disabled, the losers, the geeks, as well as a few kids who are also on the cheerleading squad and the football team.

In last Sunday night’s episode of Glee, 3 of the girls are in the glee club, as well as members of the cheerleading squad, under the tyrannical direction of Sue Sylvester.
Yet Sue Sylvester has scheduled the championship cheering competition for the exact same night that the glee club is to be performing the half-time show at the football championship.
The girls, Santana, Brittany and Quinn, must make definitive choice.
The girls can either be on the cheerleading squad –
Or they can be in the Glee club.

Puck, who is a football jock and also in the glee club, comes to talk with the girls.
Puck reminds the girls of the story, the narrative of how the glee club brings life.
Then he gives the girls a choice:
Do you find life and meaning as an up-tight cheerleader?
Or do you find that your heart sings with life when you are in the glee club?

Santana, Brittany and Quinn choose to perform at the half-time show with the glee club.
And the coach of the glee club, Mr. Shu, smiles from the sidelines, pleased that his kids have chosen what brings them life.

In the Old Testament book of Deuteronomy, the Hebrew people are presented with a choice.
The Hebrew people can choose to not follow God and to chase after idols.
Or the Hebrew people can choose God and his commandments of justice and love, which will bring them life.

In many ways, Moses has been the coach of the Hebrew people.
Moses led his people out of their slavery in Egypt and through the waters of the Red Sea on dry land.
Moses led the people in the desert for 40 years, striking a rock so that water would gush forth and calling down bread from heaven for them to eat.
And now Moses has led his people to the edge of the Promised Land.

Moses recalls the narrative, the story of his chosen people.
Then he asks them to make a choice, as Moses cries out in his farewell address:
“I have set before you life and death.
Choose life [by] loving the Lord your God, obeying him and holding fast to him.”

Last Sunday night in the episode of Glee, the jock named Puck recounts for the girls their story of singing, the narrative of their abundant life.
And then the girls are faced with a choice.
And Moses, the leader of the Hebrew people, recounts the exodus story, the narrative of their abundant life.
And then the Hebrew people are faced with a choice:
A choice to choose death and false idols by going their own way and not following God.
Or a choice to choose life, by loving the Lord and following his ways.

And this morning, my brothers and sisters, we are faced with a choice.
Do we listen to the story, the secular narrative that the world gives to us?
Or do we listen to the story, the sacred narrative that Jesus Christ gives to us?

Last week, I stumbled upon a piece of writing that I know is going to change my ministry.
The Rev. Paul Winton, rector of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Charlotte, North Carolina has written a paper, a paper that deals with the concern that our young people, as well as our older people, are not practicing the Christian faith.

This priest writes:
“What is obvious is that from Little League to the summer swim team phenomenon,
When parents are energetically engaged with their children in the actual enterprise…
These are the very enterprises that their children come to value…for a lifetime.”

This priest also writes this:
“The Sacred Narrative…has in fact been driven out by the secular narrative;
Principally the sports narrative.”

Last Wednesday night, Jimmy and I attended the Baylor men’s basketball game vs. Nebraska.
During a timeout in the game, cheerleaders ran down onto the court, carrying boxes of hot pizzas from Pizza Hut.
Those in the stands who cheered the loudest were given an opportunity to win a free pizza.
Consequently, children of all ages screamed at the top of their lungs.
Women began to squeal with excitement.
Fully-grown men jumped up and down like school girls, yelling:
“I want a pizza! I want a pizza!”

Jimmy turned to me and said:
“I just wish that people would get half this excited about receiving Communion.”

My friends, I am serious when I say this:
When we are more excited about receiving a free pizza at a basketball game than we are to receiving the bread of heaven,
Then we are not choosing life, but we are choosing to worship idols.
When we are more engaged and energized by the narrative of the Super Bowl than we are to the sacred story of Jesus’ resurrection that gives us eternal life,
Then we are not choosing life, but we are choosing to worship idols.

And as your pastor, as your spiritual coach, I am genuinely concerned.
And as Moses looked into the Promised Land, he was genuinely concerned, as well.

Moses was concerned that his people would choose to forget their sacred story, the exodus narrative, the story that God delivers us from slavery and feeds us in the wilderness and leads us to a land of promise.
And I am concerned that we will choose to forget, or never even know, our sacred story, the narrative of how Jesus sets us free from our bondage and feeds us with daily bread and leads us into the promised land of peace and justice for all.

Therefore, as your coach, as your leader, I see a perfect opportunity on the horizon for us to choose life, to choose to not forget our sacred narrative.
A perfect opportunity awaits to choose to not replace the sacred narrative with the narrative of sports or careers or upward mobility.

In one month, on Ash Wednesday, March 9th, the season of Lent will begin.
The 40-day season of Lent is the Episcopal Church’s version of a revival.
And during this upcoming season of Lent, we will re-double and revive our resolve to choose to say ‘no’ to death - and to the worship of the world’s idols.
We will choose to say ‘yes’ to life, by sharing and witnessing to our sacred story and by following Jesus all the way to his cross and his empty tomb.

So, choose life – and put more energy and enthusiasm into weekly worship and Sunday school and Bible study than you do for soccer practices or gymnastics or cheering at Little League games.

Choose life – and put more energy and enthusiasm into reading the sacred scriptures than you do for researching basketball teams to complete your March Madness brackets.

Choose life – and put more energy and enthusiasm into your practice of prayer than you do for your practice of jogging or bicycling or arm-chair quarterbacking.

The cheerleader girls on Glee had a choice.
The Hebrew people on the edge of the Promised Land had a choice.
And you have a choice:
To choose the secular story that the world gives;
Or to choose the sacred narrative of Jesus’ abundant life.

I am concerned about the choices you make.
Choose life.
Choose Jesus Christ.

AMEN.

The Road Less Traveled

When I was in the fifth grade, and just about to leave the comfortable confines of elementary school to move on to the big, bad world of junior high school, the school librarian, Mrs. Marks, read us a poem. The poem that she read to us was Robert Frost’s famous, “The Road Not Taken.”

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

When I entered into junior high school, I was certainly faced with choices, choices regarding classes and cigarettes and drugs. Throughout my life, I have been aware that there are two roads that diverge in the wood. And I have discovered that the road less traveled has made all the difference in my life.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus proclaims to his followers that he alone is the Bread of Life, that we must eat this bread, that we must believe in him, that we must consume him and eat him and feed on him in order to live an abundant life. This teaching is too difficult to swallow; therefore, many of his followers choose the road more traveled and leave Jesus behind.
Yet a small group of followers choose the road less traveled. His closest followers ask Jesus: “Lord, to whom else can we go?” They realize that their options are limited; there is no better option in life than to believe in Jesus, for by choosing that road, it has made all the difference.

Each and every day, we see two roads that diverge in the wood. And we must make a choice: do we take the road that the world says leads to life? Or, do we take the road less traveled, the road where Jesus’ teaching is difficult, the road that asks us to give up everything, the road that calls us to lay down our life for our friends, the road where we eat the flesh and drink the blood of Jesus so that the Bread of Life may dwell in us, and we in him?

As your pastor, I have promised God and you that I will show you that there are two roads that diverge in the woods. You do have a choice. Yet as your spiritual leader, it is my joy when I see you choose the road less traveled.

When I see you choosing to study the Gospel of John, when I see you opening the Bible with your teenager in the youth room, when I see you washing dishes in the parish hall kitchen after a Sunday lunch, when I see you singing in the choir room every Wednesday night, when I see you pulling into the parking lot every Sunday to eat the bread of heaven that gives life to the world, when I see you taking the road less traveled, then it is my joy to know that you are choosing the road to abundant and eternal life.

Take the road less traveled by. Choose Jesus. For he has made all the difference.

I Can't Say That!

In preparation for Sundays, I do quite a bit of reading and research on the biblical lessons that will be read for that Sunday. The book “Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary” is a resource that I use every week. In that book, in the entry for this week’s scriptures, Greg Garrett writes about the Gospel for today. Greg was educated at the Episcopal Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, yet teaches English here in Waco at Baylor.

Greg writes to preachers, instructing me and others who will be in the pulpit today: “Do not be afraid to use Jesus’ radical call – and the radical response of the first disciples – to call your own congregation to give all that they have for something worth infinitely more.”

Upon reading the above sentence, my first thought was fearful, saying to myself: “I can’t say those kinds of things to my congregation!” Yet, on second thought, maybe I should.

So give up a night this week to come to the Gospel of John study; give up your time to our partners in the Outreach Center; give up everything in your wallet this Sunday and put it in the offering plate.

Give up all that you have for something worth infinitely more.