Luke 24:36-48

The philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once told a story about a circus that caught fire. The flames from the circus fire spread to the fields surrounding the circus grounds and began to burn toward the village below. The circus master, convinced that the village would be destroyed and the people killed unless they were warned, asked if there was anybody who could go to the village and warn the people. The clown, dressed in full costume, jumped on a bicycle and sped down the hill to the village below.
“Run for your lives! Run for your lives! A fire is coming and the village is going to burn!” he shouted as he rode up and down the streets of the village. “The village is going to burn! Run for your lives!”
Curious villagers came out from their houses and shops and stood along the sidewalks. They shouted back to the clown, laughing and applauding his performance. The more desperately the clown shouted, the more the villagers cheered. The village burned and the loss of life was great because no one took the clown seriously. After all, he was just a clown.
Doubt, disbelief, skepticism, uncertainty, reservation—these are all words that we can use to describe how the villagers viewed the clown. These are also words that can be used to describe the disciples as they saw Jesus stand before them. They were convinced that this must be his spirit or ghost appearing before them. How could it be Christ? The women and the disciple whom Jesus loved saw him die on the cross. Resurrection from the dead seemed too surreal for them; even though these very disciples had been with Jesus when he brought Lazarus forward from the tomb and when he had brought Jarius’ daughter back to life.
Let me give you the setting. The disciples were speaking with the men who had just traveled the Emmaus Road. These were the same two men that walked the road with a stranger, not knowing it was Jesus until he broke bread with them. They were excited, while the disciples were dazed and confused. And then before them Jesus appears. The man who had died was alive. Our reactions might have been very similar to those of the disciples. Instead today’s world filled with sceptcism and doubt.
Now I know that having worked in a funeral home that if I saw one of the people who I had done their funeral services for alive and walking and talking before me that I would be a bit freaked out. Actually a lot freaked out. In fact I may have felt the need to make a door where there once was a wall.
In our scripture reading it tells us the story: 38He said to them, "Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? 39Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have." 40When he had said this, he showed them his hands and feet. 41And while they still did not believe it because of joy and amazement, he asked them, "Do you have anything here to eat?" 42They gave him a piece of broiled fish, 43and he took it and ate it in their presence.
We cannot feel a ghost and a ghost does not eat. Jesus was proving to them that he was real. That he was flesh and blood before them. Was he hungry? No, but he was showing them that he was Jesus. He was making them witnesses of what was to come. I can see Jesus’ face smiling and patient as the reality of him standing before them goes from fear to incredulity to joy and belief.
Are any of you ever filled with doubt, disbelief, skepticism, uncertainty, or reservation in your personal, professional or business life? If any of you said no then I am amazed at your level of self confidence and maybe even a bit envious.
I struggle myself with one of those before mentioned qualities at one time or another and on extremely bad days maybe all of them. I would like to strive to be perfect and never make mistakes but I am human and at times that is the hardest thing in the world to be. I battle with my emotions, my tongue, and my self-esteem and then I begin to beat myself up.
I am at times my own worse enemy…and sometimes my mouth overrides my brain and things come out that horrify me. And then the cycle starts. I mess up, I beat myself up, I begin to doubt myself, and then I begin to plummet to a yucky place that no one wants to go. But, but…you’re the pastor you may think, you can’t go do stuff like that. Yes, I can…and I fight those feelings and emotions. See I have to realize something…I am human, I make mistakes just like every regular Joe or Jane out there. I struggle with my humanity and faults just like each and every one of you. The only big difference is when I am making mistakes more people are watching me than you and the fact that I represent the church and Christianity through my actions is glaring!
When Christ appeared before the disciples, do you realize that other people were watching them to see what their reactions would be? They wanted to see how this group of believers would react to the death of their Messiah and if they would buy into the story that the women were telling the people. Remember it was women who found the tomb empty and it was women who the angel appeared before. And we know in retrospect what opinion men held women in that age and time. And of course we know that the opinion of men toward women have changed over the years, right?
See the people weren’t too sure and the disciples weren’t too sure until Christ appeared before them. They had to have the proof that Christ was really alive. That he had truly been crucified. They had to see to believe. They had to touch him and see him eat. And the people watched to see their reactions and what their actions would be.
We don’t have that honor do we? We do not get to see the living Christ before us, we cannot touch his wounds, and we cannot bring him food to eat. We have to rely on our faith; we have to eliminate from our thoughts the doubts that overtake us at times. We have to believe. Not just about Christ but about one another and even about ourselves.
Author and speaker Brennan Manning tells the story of a woman who visited her priest and told him that when she prays, she sees Jesus in a vision. “He appears to me as real as you are standing here right now, Father,” said the woman. “And he speaks to me. He tells me that he loves me and wants to be with me. Do you think I’m crazy?” “Not at all,” replied the priest. “But to make sure it is really Jesus who is visiting you, I want you to ask him a question when he appears to you again. Ask him to tell you the sins that I confessed to him in confession. Then come back and tell me what he said.” A few days later the women returned. “Did you have another vision of Jesus?” the priest inquired of her. “Yes I did Father,” she replied. “And did you ask him to tell you the sins that I confessed to him while I was in confession?” “Yes I did,” the woman answered. “And what did he tell you?” asked the priest expectantly. “He said…‘I forgot.’”
Jesus graciously forgives and forgets our sins when we confess them to him. Scripture assures us of this: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us” (1 John 1:9); and “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions…and remembers your sins no more,” says the Lord (Isaiah 43:25). Once God has forgiven our sins, they are gone forever, separated from us “as far as the east is from the west” (Psalm 103:12; Hebrews 8:12). The problem is that yes he forgets but we often do not. We dwell on it, mull over it and let our doubts and fears grow. When God has already said, it’s over with, forget it, and get on in doing my work. Get on with sharing the good news.
Recall verses 45-48 of today’s scripture reading: 45Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures. 46He told them, "This is what is written: The Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, 47and repentance and forgiveness of sins will be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem. 48You are witnesses of these things. We all have doubts and fears, we all sin. Not one of us is better than the others, some may hide it better but we all are human. And we can stumble and we can fall and we can ask for repentance. Repentance is admitting our shortcomings and turning away from them. And Christ offers us that chance.
One final story: A young man was learning to be a paratrooper. Before his first jump, he was given these instructions: 1. Jump when you are told. 2. Count to ten and pull the ripcord. 3. In the unlikely event your parachute doesn’t open, pull the emergency ripcord. 4. When you get down, a truck will be there to take you back to the airport. The young man memorized these instructions and climbed aboard the plane. The plane climbed to ten thousand feet and the paratroopers began to jump. When the young man was told to jump, he jumped. He then counted to ten and pulled the ripcord. Nothing happened. His chute failed to open. So he pulled the emergency ripcord. Still, nothing happened. No parachute. “Oh great,” said the young man. “And I suppose the truck won’t be there when I get down either!” Have you ever felt like that young man? Have you had so many failures and disappointments in life that you just don’t expect anything to go right for you?
Well, unlike the young man in our story, there is hope. Our hope resides in Jesus Christ, we can be forgiven for the failures of the past and we can start all over. Christianity is sometimes called the “gospel of the second chance” because our failures never have to be fatal. That’s what the grace of God is all about. Even though our parachutes fail to open, we can always fall into the loving arms of our heavenly Father.
Christ came before those disciples that long day ago, he came to show that we didn’t have to doubt only believe. He wanted them to touch him, watch him eat just to show that he was flesh and blood and yet divine. He came to them to show that the prophecy had been fulfilled and that if they believed and repented or turned around from their sins, all their sins that he would forgive them. That he would take care of them. Did he expect these disciples to be perfect, far from it? He knew that they would stumble and fall and all those watching them would be ready for that. But it wasn’t their falling that concerned him, it was their getting back onto to their feet again and going forward and sharing the Good News of his death, burial and resurrection. You will fall, I will fall and those watching us will want to see what we will do. And I myself will pick myself up, brush myself off, ask for forgiveness and then go forward. Not by myself but with God by my side.
There will still be people watching you and me, watching those “Christian” type people to see if we are doing it right. And probably 99%, 98%, or even 85% of the time we are doing it right and the 1% or 2% or even 15% we aren’t are is when we will be noticed. So we, you and I, have to step up to the plate. We are the examples; we are the apostles that now have to be aware of what we represent and carry our crosses not as a burden but with pride.
We have to be the ones to dispel the doubts of those who don’t know Christ; we have to be the ones to reach out and to do more. Because when it comes down to it, we are all followers of Christ and we are his example to the world. You and I have to be the one to remove the doubts not only here within our church walls, but here within the community and in the greater church community. I challenge you to know that we all will make mistakes and that we aren’t all perfect but we have to strive to show our Christianity to everyone. We have to be the bearers of the Good News and share Christ with others. Because if we don’t who will? Amen.

We now reach the summit. With the reading of the Gospel lesson, we have reached the dramatic height of Easter Sunday morning. Here we are, gathered in the beauty of this transformed sanctuary in our Easter finery; flowers surround us, and the glad voices of our children fill our ears and our souls too. Easter is the culmination of the Christian year. Today we embrace the majesty and the mystery of our faith. This is the day which God has made--we rejoice and are glad in it! It's a great day to be alive--to be in vivo--in life!
That is why we are here this morning--to celebrate love, that great beautifier of life. It's not the love which is popularly symbolized by the Cupid, the chubby angel in diapers, mischievously shooting arrows into human hearts, but rather that Love which has moved in us through suffering and sorrow, in tenderness and turmoil. It is the love which we have seen in the Word made flesh--a love not blinded, but visionary; not innocent, but always new; love not without pain, but the love which, when crushed to earth, rises again.
We are here this morning to rejoice in the eternal Easter message: that we may kill love, but we cannot keep it dead and buried. Yet what do we find in the Gospel lesson?
More questions than answers, and certainly a loss of Love, if not the absence of Jesus himself. We hear early morning secrets, cries and whispers. We read of terrified, terrorized women running away from an empty tomb! Worse yet, they are so afraid, they are not telling anyone about the empty bier they have just seen! Astonishment, fear, and trembling--rather than resurrection, recognition, and rescue--characterize this first Easter story. Mark tells it plainly without much dressing up.
On that first Easter, at first light, with the first thin streaks of color in the sky, Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James and Salome, came to the tomb expecting to anoint Jesus' body with their spices. It was not customary to bury the bodies of common criminals; usually they were left to the vultures and wild dogs. But a member of the Sanhedrin, Joseph of Arimathea, at odds with the conclusions of the Council, had saved Jesus' body from this indignity. With Pilate's stated permission, he had buried Jesus in a tomb; the tomb was then closed by a great circular stone which, like a cartwheel, ran a groove across the opening.
Arriving at the tomb, the women are startled to see the stone rolled away and a youth sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe. They are shocked when he speaks to them, "Do not be amazed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. Jesus has risen and is not here; see the place where they laid the body. But go, tell the disciples and Peter that Jesus goes before you to Galilee."
In this first Gospel narrative, no one sees Jesus; there are no tearful recognition or reunion scenes. There are no powerful earthquakes, no trembling guards--and no answers.
My heart goes out to this company of women, who on Good Friday had watched it all from a distance, in agony of mind and spirit. Now is their first chance to anoint the body of their friend, and they are pushed out again into the darkness of fear and trembling. No wonder they fled the tomb and withheld the story from others!
Try to imagine this moment--standing in the dark and empty cave in which the body of Jesus had been placed only days before. Try to imagine the emptiness in the hearts of the women as they stood there in that empty tomb. It was a moment when everything in their lives came to a screeching halt.
Of the four Gospel resurrection stories, Mark is the only one who dares to leave us in such a state of apprehension and suspense. As the women flee the tomb, we are left to wonder: How did anyone find out about Jesus' resurrection if they were so dumbfounded and filled with fear?
I like this Easter story precisely because it is real and without pretense. There is no dressing it up to make it pretty and palatable. In the presence of death and the mystery surrounding it, the women register disbelief, shock, and fear. This story has believability; we can see ourselves in it.
Let this be noted: Our acknowledged ignorance can unite us, while acknowledged possession of the truth can divide and even kill us. As the women discovered on the first Easter, only seekers of the truth can go forth to create a community for everyone, while those who want to possess The Truth seem to have a bottomless enmity for those who do not possess the truth as they perceive it.
Like the women who fled the tomb, we cannot prove the resurrection, nor should we even try; but we can believe in it and underwrite it with our lives. The truth contained in the resurrection is the truth about our own lives--Christ is a living presence, not an inspiring memory.
Too many Christians fail to look for the living Christ now. They don't want to see Christ in vivo--in life; they would much rather keep him in vitro--under glass--embalmed in creeds, images, dogmas, and rituals that would place limitations on who and how Christ continues to be alive in the world.
The Heaven's Gate story from several years ago is a tragic example of those who want to capture the truth of the next world without living in this one. The out-of-whack desire of Marshall Applewhite and his followers to escape the deep reality of our bodies, with all our bodily joys and sorrows, our trembling fears and shaky sensibilities--theirs was less a desire for new life than an avoidance of the one we are given. For all its New Age terminology, UFOs, Internet savvy, and monastic clothing, this group was still trying to manage their own death and resurrection, rather than trusting in the living Christ who goes before us into the world.
The Markan account of the resurrection leaves the resolution of the narrative up to us. The truth of the resurrection is placed in our lives. Will we flee or follow? Whether or not we actually see Jesus again depends on whether or not we renew our commitment to seek the risen Christ in the world, in life today. Mark allows us to embrace what we can't possibly comprehend--Jesus goes before us, into the world, summoning us to the way of the cross, not as tragedy, but as unending challenge in this life we are living now.
Where can we look for the Risen Christ today? The young man at the grave declared that he goes before us into Galilee. What and where is Galilee? It is the sphere of those who are risen themselves. Galilee is all the world, and we must seek not to possess the world but to lift it into new life, through active faith and deeds of holy love.
I will look for the Risen Christ in those who do not follow where the path leads, but rather go where there is no trail as yet. I see the Risen Christ in those who care for the suffering and the dying; I see the risen one in the eyes of people living with cancer, AIDS, terminal illness. I see Christ in mothers and fathers who love and care firmly and responsibly for their children. I see the Risen Christ in those who care for the hungry, the homeless, runaways, those in prison.
I see the Risen Christ where people give attention to another's existence; not where they try to get attention, but where they freely give it. For giving our attention to one another's humanity is our common Christian calling. "For freedom Christ has set us free." Our gift, then, is in giving, rather than taking.
I hear the voice of the Risen Christ calling us to be brothers and sisters not only to each other, but certainly to all the world. I can hear Christ calling us to God's broad vision of one whole and healed world. In God's name, Christ calls us to oppose hatred of another, which so easily can become a patriotic virtue; remember the Middle East, Albania, and Bosnia. Today, relations are so strained in Jerusalem that Palestinian Christians cannot enter the city on Easter, for fear of each other. It is a sad irony that this city which lays claim to three great religions cannot embrace their followers inside the city gates. Let us vow to work toward the day of healing.
If we can live to see the Berlin Wall come down and Nelson Mandela elected President of a free South Africa, then we shall not be detoured in our quest for peace in the Middle East.
We remember today that the historical Jesus was more than a prophet, but not less than one. And the Risen Christ is more than each one of us, but certainly nothing less than all of us together. We will find the Risen Christ among us this morning and whenever we love one another and pledge to work passionately, unrelentingly toward the day "the cast will be lifted from all nations, the tears will be wiped away from all faces, and the forces of death are swallowed up forever."
On this Easter morning, for those of us who would choose, with happy relish, to live with hope in a still suffering but beautiful world, let us vow that Christ shall be risen in us. Let us vow to work toward the day when division, fear, and hatred shall be ended; for it is Christ who crossed every existing boundary to end all divisions between us and with God, even the boundary between death and life.
We receive these powerful words: "Do not be amazed. Jesus is risen. Go, tell the others that Jesus goes before you into Galilee . . . and even into the world, and there you will see Christ, as he told you."
We don't have the luxury of staying at the tomb. We are called to go forth from this moment and this place to be Easter people in a world which too often hangs onto Good Friday.
If you ever wonder what it means to be a Christian, a follower of the Risen Christ, remember this day and this moment. Because this is it. We don't get to stay at the tomb, and we don't even get to hold on, trembling and astonished, to emotions like fear. We don't even get to be amazed. We go out into all the world and tell others what we know and have experienced. Christ is the conqueror of death. We who follow are called, not to embalm him in the tomb or preserve his memory, but to live as ones who know he goes before us.
Let us pray on this day that the Risen Christ appear in the heart of each of us, so that we may give rapt attention to each other, become brothers and sisters to all the world, and help Christ's church, the Body of Christ on this earth, draw a large, living circle of love which includes everyone.
The powers of death have done their worst,
But Christ their legions has dispersed;
Let shouts of holy joy outburst . . .

Sermon for Palm Sunday 2006
Scripture: Mark 11:1-11

Palm Sunday. It's a beautiful day filled with wonder and excitement; a day for waving the green branches of spring, a time for shouting Hosanna and giggling with our children. It was a little different the first time. Women came in from the fields carrying branches and sticks, whatever they could find to wave as he came by. Fathers left the house, children in hand, lifting them up on their shoulders and shouting "Hosanna," as a lone figure came riding into the streets on a new colt, so young, it is not broken yet.
Tell me, why do I feel a little ambivalent on Palm Sunday? Most likely because I know that between now and the coming Sunday a lot is going to happen and not all of it pretty or fun. In seven days, the life story of Jesus, will take as many dives, turns and twists as any life on earth has experienced. Palm Sunday is the only gateway to Holy Week. In the next days, we will remember stories and events that are in direct contrast to this day of palms–there will be anger, tears, betrayals, denials, despair, hopelessness, helplessness, grief and finally a tragic death on a hill far away.
We tell these stories over and over again to ourselves and to our children to help us imagine something of the triumph and tragedy of our lives. Telling the stories of Jesus' life and our own is not private work to be done somewhere else, it is common work, done in order to find a way for us to claim what is holy, good and important for us now.
Today, truth comes riding into town on a donkey; by the end of the week it will be hanging on a cross. God chooses the ordinary, and even the strange, to get to us the truth about living. Every story is holy. The Divine Storyteller chooses the foolish, the innocent, the common, to get to us the truth about life. On Palm Sunday truth arrives empty-handed riding on a common animal; it comes to us, not as a conquering hero, victor valiant, or triumphant king. We see the simple truth about our magnificent existence: there will be in this life, joys, sorrows, extraordinary events which make us want to embrace the whole world; humble moments of suffering, fear, confusion and loss. This single life holds a mirror to our own; our own lives are a reflection of this one life.
Most lives are not magnificent or triumphant, but vulnerable, even foolish and laden with loneliness. Isaiah captures the image of the suffering one — "that he hid not his back from the smiters nor his cheeks to them that pulled at his beard. He had no form or comeliness, and when we see him, there was no beauty that we would desire him."
In this Lenten/Easter season of shadows and light, images abound, and their truth is not hidden from us. On Maundy Thursday, a teacher ties a towel around his waist and gently washes the feet of those who follow him, servant/leader. Later that same night, they share an ordinary meal of bread and wine. The bread is coarse and unleavened. It is dipped into a cup of dark red wine and passed around the room. Remember me, he pleads, as you go about your life, when you eat bread and drink the cup, remember me. Later the next morning, he is brought down to the lowliest and loneliest place a human being can go–a hanging death outside of town with a couple of thieves. That cross and the men hanging there remind us of the suffering dying/sorrow of the world. Every story tells us something about the truth we are called to live.
On this Palm Sunday, I see Christ's life like an ocean wave, whose only truth now is that it is going to break. Like him, I find myself hovering on the cusp of this joyful day of palms, looking toward the emptiness and struggle of my own life. Let us be poised in a still, vital alertness on this threshold, waiting for that something to come that has never happened in quite this way before. Today, we stand on that fine line between exhilaration and dread. Let's not glorify what is to come, nor over simplify it, therefore losing the stories' power to change us forever.
Listen to the stories and receive their power. Embrace the overwhelming dignity of the life of Jesus amidst the folly of the world. In the week to come dare to look at all that is ours to live; the pain and the passion, the power and the foolishness, the strength and the struggle. Bring our own foolish and wonderful life to God, just as Jesus did. Compassion and grace always come.
But I am getting ahead of the story. We will return next week, knowing that the only way from Palm Sunday to Easter is the on the rugged road through Good Friday, knowing that all new life comes through the very death we did not want to endure. Amen.

Scripture: Luke 16:19-31
April 2, 2005- 5th Sunday in Lent
Rev. Jason Lewis

Then Jesus took his disciples up the mountain and gathering them around him he taught them…Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven, Blessed are the meek, Blessed are they that mourn, Blessed are the merciful, Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for justice … Blessed are you when you suffer … Be glad and rejoice for your reward is great in heaven.”
Then Simon Peter said, “Are we supposed to know this?” And Andrew said, “Do we need to write this down?” And James said, “Will this be on the test?” And Philip said, “I don’t have any paper.” And Bartholomew said, “Do we have to turn this in?” And John said, “The other disciples didn’t have to learn this.” And Matthew said, “Can I go to the boy’s room?” And Judas said, “What does this have to do with real life?” Then one of the Pharisees who was present asked to see Jesus’ credentials his teaching certificate and his lesson plan. And he asked Jesus, “Where is your anticipatory set, and your objectives in the cognitive domain?” And then Jesus wept.
This little parody on our beloved Beatitudes comes out of a little volume of material by Peter Steinke that I read and studied several years ago with a clergy peer group. It is a little amusing to think of the Disciples of Jesus asking those silly questions. But Steinke makes the point that Jesus came offering human-kind a new vision. One that required a vivid imagination for one to fully perceive it. And the Disciples just didn’t get it. To say nothing of the Pharisees!
I want you to think this morning about your capacity to imagine. A while back, I had a lengthy conversation with a group and we were reflecting on Jesus’ pronouncing a blessing on the meek. I received later that morning an email from someone who had been there for the discussion. Here is what he said: “When I read texts like the one from Luke 14, I feel like saying (like the disciples on a different occasion) "this is hard teaching - who can follow it." I think that this has to do with a lack of imagination on my part. We follow a Jesus who had a vivid imagination, but I find myself lacking in that regard. Cultivation of imagination - maybe that's what we need more of -on a personal level and a national level.”
In his book, 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, Dr. Stephen Covey suggests that imagination is one of the unique characteristics of the human animal. And that seems to be true, based on what information we have about the animal world. One quality that has, from the beginning of time distinguished the human animal from all other species is that we have the unique ability to imagine. So, when Adam and Eve were stirring around in the garden, and they heard the sound of the serpent tempting them to eat from the tree of knowledge, they could imagine in their minds what it would be like to have wisdom. "Go ahead and eat that fruit. You're not going to die. You will have wisdom, like God. And you will be able to distinguish between good and evil." Those were the words to them in the garden that day. And Adam and Eve must have surely been able to have imagined what it would be like to have that kind of wisdom, because they didn't waste much time in eating of the fruit.
Another quality that seems to be a unique characteristic of we human animals is that we have a conscience. Some say as a result of the actions of Adam and Eve that day in the garden, we do have an ability to discern what is good and what is evil. And in the same way we adults don't always do that good of a job in using our imaginations. We also do not always have a tendency to listen to our conscience. But those two qualities, imagination and conscience, are two that make us uniquely human. AND says Stephen Covey, these are the two characteristics that give us what we sometimes refer to as our self awareness. These are the unique characteristics of a human being that make it possible for us to examine our very deepest values and to shape our lives around those values. Now not everybody does that! Because a lot of people have forgotten about how to be imaginative, and some people fail to listen to their conscience.
Now that’s what I think was the problem with the rich guy in Jesus’ parable, which we heard read this morning. He had lived a life in the lap of luxury and there is really nothing inherently wrong with luxury. It’s only when people get to the point of walking past the Lazarus in our world, without even noticing him, without even imagining what it would mean for that poor guy to be neighbored. It’s only when our imagination is wounded by insensitivity and greed that we begin to pay the price. Hades was the price the rich guy paid for his lost ability to imagine for his lost sensitivity to his conscience.
Perhaps you remember the story about the monument that has been erected in the town of Enterprise, Alabama. I’ve never seen it, but I have heard that it is perhaps one of the strangest and ugliest of all monuments in America. It is a goddess on a lighted pedestal holding aloft in her hands, a giant boll weevil. A giant boll weevil down there in cotton country, where the weevil is the most deadly enemy of the farmers. One might legitimately wonder just why it would be that a community would erect a monument to such an evil creature as the boll weevil in the midst of that countryside. The answer is carefully scripted at the base of the monument. It reads: "In profound appreciation of the boll weevil, and what it has done as the herald of prosperity."
The story behind the monument is that in the year 1919, the boll weevil came and destroyed the cotton crops. The area was dependent on cotton and this was a great calamity. At that time the people had almost no way to fight the new enemy. They seemed to be facing a hopeless situation. But somebody in the community became imaginative. And he planted peanuts on his property. It was discovered that the climate and the soil conditions in that particular community were ideally suited for the peanut crop, and the area became the peanut- growing capital of the world. People became more prosperous than they had ever been. Folks in Enterprise will tell you that the boll weevil really wasn't the enemy that they thought he was. Once someone had enough vision and imagination to try something different the people were better off than they ever were.
Think about this truth. Most of the saints who have made history have one common characteristic. They had a dream. And to dream one has to have an imagination. Martin Luther King imagined a world that was free of injustice, prejudice and hate. Mother Theresa surely imagines a world where nobody ever has to go to bed hungry. The Apostle Paul had a vivid imagination he imagined the entire Holy Roman Empire being Christianized, and he set out on three separate missionary journeys to make it happen. The saints were and they continue to be to this day people with a vivid imagination. People with a dream.
The story of one of the better known saints in church history is an interesting case in point. As a child he had been brought up in the right side of town. His father was a wealthy cloth merchant. He had a good education, good looks, good friends, and liked good times, good wine, and a good fight. Francis Bernadone grew more serious as he grew older. He was concerned about the plight of the poor, but not overly concerned. Meeting a leper on the road one day, Francis kicked his horse in the ribs with his spurs, flung a piece of gold at the AIDS victim, I mean the homeless woman, I mean the man with the sign that says “will work for food”, excuse me, the victim of leprosy. And Francis took off. But suddenly, from out of nowhere, a great wave of pity swept over the carefree young man. He turned back, dismounted, took all the money out of his pocket and thrust it into the man's hands. Overcoming his revulsion at the man's sores, Francis embraced him.Today we know Francis Bernadone as Saint Francis the man who walked out of a good position with his father in business in order to be who he felt God was calling him to be.
William Willimon has said that one of the most disruptive, unsettling, revolutionary acts of the church is in telling stories of the saints; those men and women throughout history who have had a wild imagination. Those people who have refused to believe that the only options they have in life are the ones handed to them by following the status quo. I read recently of a young graduate student who has been interviewing women at an abortion counseling service. The graduate student said that most of the women getting abortions cited as their main reason for their abortion...."I had no other option." Come on now, use your imagination. It has been said, and I think it is true that "lack of imagination is a necessary by-product of social amnesia. An inability to remember the saints produces a failure of nerve among today's believers. Remembrance is a potentially revolutionary act.
"Lack of imagination is a necessary by-product of social amnesia." I read that sentence as I was preparing this sermon and it made an impact on me. Perhaps that is what is wrong with our culture today! We have lost our imagination! We have lost our ability to imagine new possibilities and new options! Maybe we are like the young women interviewed by the graduate student at the abortion clinic, who continually say that abortion is their only option. Are we as an 21st century church and culture losing our sense of imagination? Have we decided that our only option in dealing with an increasingly violent world is to add a security system and another lock to our front doors? Have we given up on the option of reaching the downtrodden with the good news of Christ's love? Are we giving up? Have we lost our imagination? Have we forgotten how to dream?
My parents were doing their Federal Income Taxes when I was home last week and the software they used to figure their return asked them if they wanted to have the program check it for any red flags for possible IRS Audits. So they clicked the appropriate box and sure enough there was an audit warning. Lo, and behold, they had given away too much money in 2005. The average person in their income bracket gives 2% percent to charitable causes, and they had given well over 10%. The message was: it’s not a sure thing you’ll be audited but this is a red flag for the IRS.
Well it occurs to me that if we are not giving of ourselves, then it is a sure thing we’ll be audited! That’s what happened to the rich guy in Jesus’ story. That to me is the point of that story whether we like it or not. God does do an audit! That’s not why we should give though give though. We don’t tithe because we think we’re going to get audited by God. We tithe because we discover the sheer joy of giving. And it’s because we literally hunger and thirst for justice. Our giving helps that justice to be achieved. For example, your Week of Compassion giving goes to work immediately to meet crisis and disaster squarely in the face and to bring order out of the chaos of people’s lives who have been stricken by some unexpected catastrophe. But the bottom line for me friends is that most are not the Lazarus in this picture of Jesus’ story. Many come much closer to fitting in to the category of the Rich Man. And the whole point of Jesus’ story was the rich guy got audited! Audited by God.
There is joy is striving for righteousness and justice. It is the healing of our wounded imagination. There is satisfaction that comes from giving of ourselves. It is the healing of our wounded imagination. Satisfaction like you feel after having been hungry, or thirsty and being offered sustenance. It is the healing of our wounded imagination.
Let me close with a quote from a 20th century prophet Martin Luther King. Martin Luther King made this statement 30 years ago! “. . . if the church will free itself from the shackles of a deadening status quo, and, recovering its great historic mission, will speak and act fearlessly and insistently in terms of justice and peace, it will enkindle the imagination of humanity and fire the souls of all, saturating them with a glowing and eager love for truth, justice, and peace. People far and near will know the church as a great fellowship of love that provides light and bread for lonely travelers at midnight.” Thanks be to God. Amen.

So, for the past two Sundays I have been engaged in conversation about a new show on NBC called, The Book of Daniel. This show has caused quite a bit of controversy, leading up to it’s premier and well beyond. So this week I thought I would give my thoughts on this show, if I didn’t it would be kind of like not talking about the pink elephant in the middle of the room. So, I hope you enjoy, and I hope that if you wish to discuss this that you will call me so we can do just that!
Anytime a show or movie relating to God is out onto the open market, there is bound to be some uproar. And the case is no different with NBC’s recent offering called The Book of Daniel. To give you the jest of the show; an Episcopalian Priest has a mild Vicodan addiction and is married to an alcoholic wife. They have a dope-selling daughter, a gay son, and the other son is what you might call a “player” with the ladies. Someone has just made off with three million dollars of church money and Daniel, the main character, has to use resources that are tied to the mob in order to track down the money. Oh yes, did I mention that I the middle of all of this Daniel has to perform “normal” ministerial duties. In the first episode we see Daniel at the deathbed of a parishoner and her family as she does pass away.
There were many complaints of offense and outcry that this show was nothing but garbage, to the point that the Nashville NBC affiliate took it off the air, much to this writers chagrin. But honestly, I saw nothing that offensive. The language was a bit course in places for primetime viewing and I will agree that it was more like Monday Night wrestling, what with it’s drama and unrealistic tide of problems for Daniel. After-all, I’d almost be willing to you guarantee that all the problems this one man has would not happen to a person in a single day, probably even a week.
However, while I think the show was a tad unrealistic, I believe that it does have some value. For you see, in the middle of all of these problems, Daniel talks to Jesus. Not just talks to him, but sits next to him and converses with him about all that is going on, while Jesus just sits and listens. To me, this shows something that I think many folks have forgotten. That, yes, we can just talk to Jesus. Just like having normal conversation, no thee and thou, no King’s English, no fancy format. Just normal conversation; like talking to an old friend. This is the kind of relationship Christ wants to have with us, open and honest, all of our feelings and emotions on the table. This show illustrates, although overblown, that ministers are real people with real problems, and that, just like everyone else, we struggle. And the most important item I believe this show illustrates is this: even in the middle of this crazy (at times train-wreck) of a thing that we call life; even in the middle of what seems like and insurmountable pile of issues and problems; even when we are at our worst and doing things that we know God would not approve of; God, through Christ, wants to be a part of that too. That my friends is amazing; and that, my friends, in the middle of all the violence, drugs, gang culture, sleeping around, and anti-God sentiments that people see in the media nowadays, is something that needs to be on television. I just hope that in the one showing here in Clarksville somebody got that message and found some hope in it.
So, as stated at the beginning of this , anytime we deal with the subject of God, especially when it comes to movies or television, there are absolutely without a doubt going to be differing views and opinions. And you know what, that’s ok. Maybe God wants us to discuss our differences so we can find common ground and just get down to the business of spreading the gospel. I for one know that I have enough to worry about with my own self that I do not need to be pointing out faults in everyone and everything else. I also believe that God turns up in some pretty strange, and unconventional places. Maybe if we stop complaining and start listening and looking, we might find some of those places and come into closer relationship with the one who so desperately wants us to know that we are loved . . .no matter what.


Struggling along with you,


Jason