"Pour More Water on" given May 29, 2016

            “Is it you, you troubler of Israel?” asked King Ahab. This, without a doubt, is one of the very best stories in the Hebrew Bible. It’s got political corruption, violence, spectacle, drama, suspense, scope, sneaky villains, even the suggestion of sex. Indeed, it’s a wonder to me that Cecil Baal. DeMille, or Stephen Spielburg, or George Lucas never made a Biblical epic out of the story or Elijah. If anyone of them had, this morning’s reading would have been one of the really climatic scenes—as powerful as Charlton Heston smashing the stone tablets on which the original Ten Commandments were written by God’s hand...

            Imagine the first scene, the conflict between Elijah, the humbly dressed, bearded prophet of God, and this hen-pecked, tyrant King Ahab, dressed in his regal robes, with his beautiful but sinister pagan wife Jezebel right behind him, whispering in his ear.

            “Is it you, you troubler of Israel?” This is not simply Ahab the king speaking. We have to see Ahab in more than just a political leader. Ahab was Israel’s leader. Imagine we took The President of the United States, and combined him with the Pope, Warren Buffet, and George Clooney. Then we might have an inkling of who Ahab was when he spoke. Ahab was speaking for the state, the established church, the economy, the press, the AFL-CIO, the American Legion. In other words, ALL of established Israel.

            By “Troubler of Israel” Ahab meant, “Troubler of established, respectable, Israel, Troubler of official Israel.” Ahab spoke not only for all that power, but also for a good many ordinary people—mostly indigenous Canaanites who fund a lot of appeal in this “old time religion” of the baals. In addition, the Hebrew peoples’ faith in the One God that Moses and Miriam had brought with them into the land, was slowly being eroded.

            These were primarily agricultural people, trying to make a living farming in a rocky, hard scrapple land.  They had no scientific understanding of how seeds germinate and bloom and grow, becoming edible plants. They thought that the crops were a sort of miracle. They didn’t understand the factors--like soil composition, and crop rotation, and enough rain at the right time--that made for a good harvest in one particular year, and a bad in the next. But what they did know that in a bad harvest, they and their families might well starve.

            The religion of the baals had been in the land for centuries before the Hebrews came. The Canaanite religion of the baals promised good harvests for those who followed it—it included sacred prostitution, child sacrifice and fertility rites. The idea was for the baals up in the sky to see the humans cavorting outdoors in the fields, and become aroused into making love with their earth goddess consorts, so that the resulting sacred seed would fall from the sky and fertilize the ground.

            Ahab also probably spoke for those among the Hebrew people who, though they personally didn’t think of themselves as pagans, saw nothing wrong in tolerating the other person’s faith. After all, who knew? The pagans might have a more accurate understanding of the cosmos than they did. It couldn’t hurt to frolic in the fields, on the off chance that it would lead to a good harvest. could it? Worse case scenario was that you had a good time.

            Standing alone against the king and the Canaanite pagans and the wishy-washy Hebrews was Elijah, a one-man resistance movement---loyal to the God of Miriam and Moses. A man with only modest popular support (if that). A man with no practical power. A man who was challenging the personification of church and state—armed only with his rock solid faith and his insufferable arrogance.

            “I have not troubled Israel, but you have, O King. You and your ancestors trouble Israel because you have forsaken the Commandments of God and followed the Baals.”

            A moment ago I called Elijah arrogant, and arrogant he was.  He had a brass-bound, gilt-edged certainty about the rightness of his own position. He had absolutely no tolerance for the point of view of the other—only contempt. Elijah was a terrible sport, with an unbearable conceit. Elijah was so wrapped in his own sense of righteousness, so committed to his battle with Ahab, that he had no room for doubt—much less tolerance.  This was a life or death struggle for him, and as we shall see later, he treated it as such.

            So when he challenged the priests of Baal to a contest, he had to KNOW with absolute assurance that his God—the God of Abraham and Sarah, the God of Israel WOULD triumph.  

            The point of the story is not that Elijah is an arrogant, self-righteous, blood-thirsty zealot. He is. The point the Biblical writers are pointing to is not that the baals with lose. Thanks to Biblical hindsight, we all know that the point.  The real point—the reason for this story’s inclusion in the Bible—is that gives the Biblical writers an excuse to record Elijah’s speech.

            “How long will you sit upon the fence?” Elijah roars. “If the Holy One is God then follow God. But if the baals are god, then follow them.” No one replies. Like us they have heard this sermon before and are bored with it. They’re anxious to get past the preaching and into the spectacle. “All right” says Elijah.  “If you want to keep limping along with two options, go ahead. But don’t kid yourselves. Go ahead and tell yourself you don’t have to decide, that you can have it both ways. Wrong!” says Elijah.  “In not following God and God alone, with a whole heart, you have chosen Baal.” 

            The Twentieth Century Theologian said: “Not to decide is to decide.” I suspect he copped that line from Elijah.

            Elijah tells the crowd in effect, they don’t take God seriously. If they want spectacle and entertainment, God will give them spectacle and entertainment. In living color, a full blown, no holds barred, genuine miracle.

             “I and I alone am left a prophet of the living God. Baal’s prophets number four hundred and fifty. If it will open your hearts, let us have a contest.”

            So they have a contest.  One versus four hundred and fifty.  The God of Moses and Miriam versus the baals. To light the sacrificial bonfire by invocation only. No

torches, no kindling, no flint and steel. Just prayer to each side’s God. Four hundred and fifty priests of Baal danced and capered around their altar. They pranced and paraded, jumped and leaped, shouted, crying out to baal. Just to light that fire, they danced all morning.

            By noontime, Elijah had started to heckle them. The translations in our Bibles could never capture the sarcasm and acid in Elijah’s comments.

            “What’s the matter guys? Isn’t Baal listening? Maybe he’s taking a nap, or is out of town visiting. I don’t think he’s listening. Shout louder, maybe ducked out to use the bathroom.”

            The priests of Baal began to cut themselves with their ritual knives, shouting and chanting even louder. Still, Elijah continued to harass them. “He can’t heeeaar yoooou!” This went on all afternoon.

            Now it was evening, time for the regular sacrifice. It’s Elijah’s turn. Silently he picks out twelve rocks, one for each of the tribes of Israel. He uses the rocks to build an altar to God. Then Elijah puts some logs on it, and digs a trench around the altar.

            “OK, some of you onlookers, go get some jugs of water, Pour the water onto the logs until it runs over onto the pit. Great! That’s the idea.”  Now Elijah turns toward the priests of baal. Wet wood--this is really rubbing salt in their wounds. With a grin, Elijah tells the onlookers, “Pour more water on those logs.” This is real arrogance. But Elijah isn’t finished yet. After the water is poured, he sneers at the priests of Baal and commands, “Pour more water on! Do it for a third time!” The water is poured for a third time.

            This story was set down by court historians and scribes hundreds of years later. And of course, like someone who reads the last chapter of a mystery last, they knew the outcome. Those scribes were absolutely sympathetic with Elijah’s point of view. Like Elijah, they believed in God’s Sinai Covenant with Moses so they pictured Elijah as the inevitable winner. It made no difference if Elijah had the logs for his bonfire soaked with water one, two, or three times.

            So far as they were concerned, Elijah could have set that fire with weighted rocks for firewood, at the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, wearing Scuba gear. It would have made no difference. The fire would have started. They knew with the absolute certainty of all Biblical writers that the baals are phony-baloney gods who can’t deliver in the clutch. Your baal god will blow it ever time.

            Now comes the moment of truth—but with the benefit of Biblical hindsight, you and I, along with Elijah and the unknown rabbis who first wrote the story down know the result. Can God do it? Of course! There was never a doubt that God could light the fire, and do it any way but first class. Not a tiny smolder of smoke that slowly catches and spreads, but BANG! A thunderbolt from on high comes down. A heavenly thunderbolt that could not only light the wettest wood, but a thunderbolt that would have made old Zeus jealous.

            Elijah, standing by himself, but acting on behalf of all Israel, had put his faith in God, and been vindicated. But more than the lighting of the logs, the greatness of the story lies in Elijah’s simple question to the crowd. “How long will you sit upon the fence? How long will you go limping along with two opinions? Choose! God or the Baals. Who will you follow?”

            The people had no desire to choose. Indeed it was probably the last thing in the world they wanted to do. But Elijah called their hands. “Choose!”  He thundered. It was a crucial life decision for the crowd. Choose The Almighty or the pagan baals. One or the other.

            You and I might be lucky to see first hand, much less participate in, a moment as dramatic and powerful as this, only once in our lifetimes. Certainly historic confrontations still occur rarely—the fall the Berlin Wall comes to mind—but we usually behold them second hand—on TV or the Internet. There are usually understandable natural causes for such events. But, I’m not sure there’s been a full-fledged old fashioned, supernatural, inexplicable, world-shaking miracle in our time, since the White Sox won the pennant in 2005.

            Certainly, from time to time, pivotal moments happen in our individual lives. There are moments for all of us that demand a choice, a stand that will shape the rest of our lives—a job offer, a proposal, a scholarship offered, a religious experience that challenges us, an opportunity to change careers, I’m sure we can all point to one or two such crucial moments. And from time to time we might well stop to ponder “I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d done this instead of that?”

            While big Cecil Baal. DeMille, larger than life, world shaking scenes, tend to be seldom seen nowadays, moments of individual choice, opportunities for personal life determination and transformation are not as rare as we think. No matter our age or stage of life, we each have a chance, every day, to choose, to change, to grow. Every moment can be critical! Any moment might change things for us.

            That day on the mountaintop, God was victorious. But for Elijh that wasn’t enough. In his arrogance, Elijah took upon himself God’s role of judge. In his intolerance, Elijah decided there wasn’t room in Israel for him and his God and the pagan religion of the baals. And so Elijah took it upon himself to order the massacre of the priests of the baals. His hasty act offends our modern sensibilities—especially in the light of what’s going on right now in Syria. But time and time again, down through the ages, extreme zealotry coupled with self-righteous political power, in any faith, has lead to bloody religious violence and oppression.

            Even in the face of the murderous aftermath that Elijah engineered, God still won the day. But no doubt there were tears in God’s eyes,  along with triumph in Heaven.

            The Divine victory wasn’t the obvious one in lighting the fire.  And the Divine victory was certainly not arrogant old Elijah’s unnecessary religious violence--violence that our loving God must have abhorred.  No the ultimate victory was in hearts of those in Israel who seized that moment and believed.  

            That’s where The Almighty’s victories are always won. Not on mountaintops, not at sacrificial altars, not through spectacle, certainly not through religious persecution, but in human hearts and lives. That’s how The Almighty’s Holy Spirit works, and has always worked to transform this broken, blood-soaked world. 

            The choice that Elijah put before the crowd that day is the same choice that can transform your and my lives. It is ever before us in the person of Jesus Christ, saying “Follow me.”

            In Him is forgiveness. In Him is new life. In Him is opportunity.  In Him is peace and tolerance. The future is open. Possibilities for healing, for meaning, for joy, for abundance are before us.  He calls to us. He invites us.

            He calls us to give our lives to the One God-- and turn aside from following the modern baals of intolerance, homophobia, racism and prejudice. He calls us to get off the fence and stop limping along after power, status, pettiness and violence.

            His invitation is open to all people of faith and good will. We need not necessarily be Methodist or Catholic or Anglican; Evangelical or Progressive; even Jewish or Christian or Moslem. We who follow the One God know that the waters of Salvation run deep and wide, and there are many wells we may drink from. But we must above all, decide. Amen.

"Whadda Ya Gonna Do?" given May 22

It's almost Memorial Day. That means, more than likely, that

many of you are thinking about vacation, about long week-ends,  family excursions, cook-outs, and baseball, and hitting the swimming pool.

Some of the best Summers our family have enjoyed have had at

least something to do with the beach. When a hot Summer sun rises in

the sky, and the temperatures soar, how pleasant it is to be lying on a

beach, doing nothing of any redeeming value other than doing absolutely

nothing, a glass of iced tea not too far away, the gentle rhythm of waves, the occasional cry of the seagulls.

We also have enjoyed the mountains with their cool evenings, the throbbing songs of crickets lulling you to sleep. Summer and nature seen from a rocking chair on a porch or a blanket on the beach. Sitting there, rocking and enjoying, one is taught a simple truth - this is our Father's world. Listen, on some balmy summer nights you can almost hear, above the crickets and the chirping frogs, a Divine voice pronounce,

"GOOD!" over it all, just as it spoke on the first evening of creation. The Holy One saw all that he had made and said, "GOOD!" and so say we on a July evening in whatever corner of God's garden we find ourselves. Very good.

And yet, one thing we modern, air-conditioned people sometimes

overlook in our vacation time assessments of nature is this: Out there, just beyond the front yard, in the woods, the little creatures are busily devouring one another! The big fishes beneath the placid surface of the lake are eating smaller fishes, who are eating still smaller fishes, who are eating protozoa, who are eating whatever they eat.

Nature is not only a realm of chirping crickets and soaring gulls, but it is also a tooth-and-claw fight to the death for life. We humans are but the uppermost rung of a great ladder of survival, omnivores at the top of a food chain in which one organism lives only through the death of another. Something, plant or animal, suffered to bring you breakfast this morning, to say nothing of what you are planning on having for lunch.

Some years ago, a couple who were friends of ours moved out to

rural Indiana. They weren't farmers, but they rented a old frame farm house and yard, with an old dilapidated chicken coop on the property. Since they had the space, and were living in the country they decided to keep chickens. They decided to raise Anaconda Reds-- which I understand have very pretty plumage-- for chickens.

Anyway, they got a bunch of fertilized eggs, hatched them, and were

planning to keep the hens for eggs and slaughter the roosters for meat.

Unfortunately, they named the chickens. Everything went fine until it was time to slaughter the young roosters. Bob walked up behind the first one, which was pecking at a piece of feed on the ground.

"That's the last piece of corn you'll ever eat, buddy boy" Bob thought.

Guess what happened. They eventually found a little old Amish grandma on the neighboring farm, who came in and wrung the chickens necks two at a

time, for a quarter apiece.

This world, which at once appears so benign and lovely, this creation of God that we revel in on July vacations, is also a realm of life and death where everything is eating and being eaten. So Paul spoke, not of how lovely creation is when seen from a screened porch of his mountain cottage, but how creation - groans.

"The whole creation has been groaning in labor pains . . . not only

the creation, but we ourselves" Paul wrote in Romans 8. The creation

was subjected to futility. Groaning. Those chickens in the barnyard.

Me. You.

In the great chain of being that biologists know only as a

chain of food, some creature is always giving up its life for another.

Those chickens die so that you and I can live. Maybe when Great-

Grandma went out into the backyard, grabbed a hen, rung her neck, and

prepared her for the family's evening meal, there was a greater sense

of the inter-connectedness of all animal life, a greater sense of the

dependency of humans upon other animals for the life we enjoy, perhaps

even sometimes a sense of regret that so many animals and plants must

die so that we can live. Maybe not.

All this we know. But here is a biblical assertion that we may

not know: God set all this teeming creation in motion for one reason

above all others - to make human life possible. Did you hear that in

the Scripture today? Over time, over what we now know to have been

billions of years, little by little, God coaxed from this buzzing mass

of creatures a creature so like God's own self that it was said to be

in the very image of God. This creature, this Adam, this Eve--male and female—straight and lGBTQI—brown, tan, pink and all shades in between-- is

the crowning glory of God's creativity. (At least upon this particular planet).

I'm talking about you. You, and Joan of Arc, and Napoleon,

George and Martha Washington, Attila the Hun, Great-Grandma all are

made the image of God. And Scripture claims that the whole creation,

the crickets, gulls, frogs, and chickens in the barnyard, live for our

sakes. We alone enjoy such a direct relationship with God.

I suppose that sounds incredibly presumptuous or arrogant. Not

so says the ancient Hebrew who, on one starlit night in July, stood on

a Near Eastern hillside, gazed into the heavens and exclaimed in all

humility:

O God, our God,

how glorious is your name over all the earth!

Your glory is praised in the heavens.

Out of the mouths of children and babes

your have fashioned praise because of your foes,

to silence the enemy and the rebellious.

When I look at your heavens, the work of your hands,

the moon and the stars which you have created—

who are we that you should be mindful of us,

that you should care for us?

You have made us little less than God

and crowned us with glory and honor.

You have given us rule over the works of your hands,

putting all things under our feet:

all sheep and oxen,

yes, and the beasts of the field;

the birds of the air, the fishes of the sea,

and whatever swims the paths of  the seas.

O God, our God,

how glorious is your name over all the earth! (Ps.8)

Little less than God. Sure, compared to the vastness of the

starry heavens, we are but small specks of matter in a great universe.

But the Bible says we have no equal in all creation. Of all the

creatures, we are the only ones invited to talk to, to work with God.

God has given us dominion, given us the earth and told us to subdue

it. Listen.

"So God created humankind in God's own image: .  male and female God created them. God blessed them, and God said to them, 'Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves upon the earth" (Genesis 1:27-28).

No other creature is so like God. While we don't really know

precisely what "in the image of God" means, we can infer that it has

something to do with being partners with God in caring for the garden

that God has planted.

Genesis is telling us that God chose not to rule the world

directly. God chose not to micromanage every single little detail like some

insecure boss who can never let go, but insists on having her hands on

everything that happens in the office. Instead, God puts us in charge. Us.

We need to be faithful stewards, not wasting any of God's

creation, caring for all of God's creatures since God spent so much

time and effort creating everyone. Far from destroying the garden with

waste and pollution, the good steward is always looking for ways to

increase and enhance life in God's garden.

Realizing that God has made it all for us, with loving care,

believing that God has entrusted to us the maintenance of a beautiful,

varied, and wonderfully rich creation, it makes a difference to us what

happens to the whooping crane, the snail darter, another human being.

Someday we shall have to account to God for how we have tended the

garden. Our stewardship shall be judged by the one who once bragged to

"Hey Job, would you look at that hippopotamus over there!

How about that giraffe I built? What do you think of my donkey?" (Job 40).

            Life can only be taken by human beings, no matter how simple or

primitive an organism it may be, with great gratitude to God for giving

us such life and with reverence for the preciousness of each creature,

no matter how small, to a loving Creator.

Thank you God, for chirping crickets, croaking frogs, soaring

gulls, chickens headed for the stewpot, lemurs, and all the rest of you

for making human life possible not only through the evolution of the

species, but also through your contributions to the sustenance and the

diversity of human life.

Scripture reminds us that we wouldn't be here without you and none

of us would be here were not each of us - frogs, crickets, mosquitoes (?), gnats (?), hippopotami, wildebeests, bald eagles, every single human being - important to God.

All of which may make you want to get out of this church and get on with the business of doing absolutely nothing but sitting on some veranda and enjoying God's creation - sailing some cool mountain lake, following a little white ball down a carpet of green, bobbing atop an inner-tube down some cold stream, just sitting in your front yard this afternoon. Fine. God Bless. Enjoy.

But before you go, one more word that you might not have heard if you had not come to church this morning: You, as the human animal, male and female, are at the very pinnacle of God's marvelous creation. Of all creatures, you are, in the words of the psalmist, "Little less than God." God has put you in charge. And you might not have heard that just sitting on your veranda.

            Rejoice! Thank God that you are human!

And take care of your fellow humans.

And take care of the earth.

In the light of climate change and the recent “natural disasters” around the world, that command ought to sting our ears a bit.  Remember that humungous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico a couple of  years ago? It’s great fun as well as cathartic to wail on faceless soul-less corporations like BP. One commentator I heard suggested those letters should stand for “Biblical Proportions” from now on. 

But the truth is that even multi-national corporations are made up of people-- just a bunch of people working together to make a profit—at any cost apparently. And lynch mobs are just people too. Both lynch mobs and multinationals operate on the same level of morality—mob mentality—lowest common denominator ethics—cut-throat tactics—blood-sport strategies and

to hell with your and your environment Jack, ‘cause I got mine.

Isn't it interesting, when big banks rape us we say “ They’re too big to fail. Whadda gonna do?”. And front ‘em a few hundred million to tide them over. Money we taxpayers will eventually have to cover. 

When multinational Oil companies rape us—and the environment we say, “They’re too big to break up. Whadda gonna do?” Then, watch what happens. We’ll most likely fine ‘em a couple of hundred  million they’ll recoup by selling us the oil they’ve just scooped off the top of the Gulf  at premium prices—because now, of course, oil reserves are low.

Whenever some individual person  is caught in some act of violence, some moral failure, some financial indiscretion, or sexual peccadillo, we inevitably say, "Well, he or  she is only human. Whadda gonna do?”. (We've had lots of occasions in recent years to apply that phrase to clergy as well as professional athletes, celebrities, and politicians.) "Only human." It's meant to describe us at our immoral, bumbling worst. Only human.

“Whadda gonna do?”. It's just that attitude that today's Scripture is meant to combat. We are human. God has put us in charge! Not banks. Not multi-nationals, not politicians— us. You and me. We are stewards, co-creators, co-workers with God. God's garden is all ours—to mess up or to enhance.

We are one another’s. We are responsible—individually as well as collectively For the planet and its’ peoples. The whole, wonderful creation exists for our livelihood, cultivation, protection, and delight.  We are human.

Here is a great antidote to the widespread despair, self-doubt, and self-hatred that many humans feel today - the biblical proclamation that God has created us, little less than God, the very pinnacle of all creation, and given us responsibility for one another, and given us dominion. We are human!  Whadda we gonna do?

"Drunk on the Spirit" given May 15

            You've all, no doubt seen people signing in the languages that have been invented for hearing-impaired people in order to allow them to better communicate in society. But I wonder if you know what the sign is for "Methodist"?

            It's this--hold your hands with palms together in an attitude of prayer. Then rub them together in an up and down motion.  Try it.

            What happens? If you do that very long, your palms will very quickly get warm from friction. That's part of the point of that particular sign.  The sign itself, as well as the warmth you feel when you sign it, symbolizes the warmth felt within the heart spoken of by John Wesley, and the fire in the lives of his early Methodist followers.

            Unfortunately, it feels like we've come a long way from that warmth, that fire, that pure excitement in the Spirit. There are some United Methodist congregations--this one included I know--where many of the worshippers have warm, affectionate feelings toward one another. There are no doubt worshippers seated in these very pews this morning who feel God's warm, comforting presence in their interior lives.

            But the sad fact is that not very many of our congregations anymore, not very many of our Methodist people anymore, are really on fire with the Holy Spirit in their everyday lives and worship. Along with many of our brothers and sisters in the other so-called "main-line: denominations, too many of us have become simply, more of God's frozen people.

            Today is Pentecost Sunday, the day when we celebrate the gift of the Holy Spirit to believers, the birthday of Christ's church. Our church's paraments are red today-- the liturgical color of Pentecost, of the martyrs, of ordinations, of Holy Week, of Reformation Sunday, of the Church.  It symbolizes the flames of the Spirit that descended or appeared around Jesus' disciples in the Upper Room that day so long ago. 

            I've asked you to wear red today to symbolize the fire of Christ in your lives. I even bought a new pair of red Pentecost socks-- I'm not totally clear on every symbolic aspect of wearing red socks, but the main thing is--they're fun to wear.  And Pentecost is a day for fun, a day for laughter, a day for awe. Above all though, Pentecost is a day for joy in the Spirit and joy in believing.

            Luke's account of the First Day of Pentecost in Chapter Two of the Book of Acts is illuminating--in more ways than one. Those earliest disciples, men and women both, got caught up in the experience of the Holy Spirit coming among them, moving in their hearts and in their lives.  They saw one another surrounded by flames of the spirit, auras, haloes, tongues of fire. They saw the light of Christ burning within in each and every one there. They saw one another shining with the spark of the holy, the Divine radiance that resides in every atom of the universe.

            They saw one another and themselves as they really were-- beautiful and absolutely unique individuals in history.  They knew without a doubt that each and one of them was beloved by The Creator. And in seeing themselves and each other that way, they at once knew their purpose. They at last understood their place and purpose in Universe.

            It was a Theophany--that's theological jargon that means they experienced face to face the Awesome Presence of Living God in their lives.  They were moved and touched and empowered and under-girded. It was exciting.  It felt intoxicating. It was a unique experience, an encounter, not with the historical Jesus, but with the Holy Spirit of the Cosmic Christ.  They felt warm and happy and excited and accepted, and a little careless and more than a little bit giddy.    Their spirits were filled with joy and laughter.  They felt good.

Then they began praising God in loud voices--in languages they really shouldn't have been able to speak. That felt good and joyful and exciting too. So good that the excitement became contagious. So good in fact, that the on-lookers in the street thought that Peter and James and John and Mary and Joanna and Phillip and Andrew and all the rest had been imbibing in new wine.

            So Peter had to break away from that ecstatic religious experience and preach a sermonette-- which he plagiarized from the Prophet Joel-- in order to explain to the crowd what was going on.  And the message Peter preached-- the excitement and joy they were all experiencing was so vibrant, so contagious, that Luke tells us, the Holy Spirit was able that day to bring some three thousand people to faith in Christ.

            That's a pretty powerful story--a cosmic story. It's literally a story of the power of the Creator of the Universes breaking into our individual and community lives in a manner that was totally unprecedented in History. We Twenty-first Century main-line Christians read a story like that and it stops us cold. It fills us with awe. It doesn't fit into that rationalistic, Universe-as-a-machine point of view that we're so used to.  So the Pentecost story makes us more than a bit uneasy.

            We don't exactly know what to do with a story like that.  We, many of us, have never had a full-blown ecstatic religious experience.  And, truth be told, we're not too awfully sure we'd care to have one.  We're not too sure we'd like to lose control of ourselves to such a degree-- especially not in public. We leave that to the folks out at First Assembly-- to the Pentecostals and the charismatic churches-- to the folks we rather rudely used to call "Holy Rollers".

            And if we should chance to have such an experience, we might have a hard time freely allowing ourselves to be caught up in it. There'd likely be a tiny voice in the back of our minds whispering to us, "Be careful you don't make a fool of yourself." There's that little bit of Twenty First Century rationalism in us that would probably keep us from totally trusting the experience, that would keep us wondering what was going on was truly of the Spirit, and how much was being created by human imagination and invention and crowd psychology.

            As for being Drunk on the Spirit--that's even tougher. Many of us have alcoholic friends and relatives. We've heard of and seen too much wanton damage done to human lives by alcohol and other drugs. Dean Martin's jokes aren't quite so funny anymore. Drunks are not cute or loveable to us anymore--they're sad and sick and we want to get them off the road. 

            Besides, we're Methodists. We have a historic witness against alcohol.  The very Cup of Communion on this, and every United Methodist Altar in the world contains, by Disciplinary mandate, the "pure, unfermented juice of the grape."

            Despite its physiological roots, addiction is more than an illness.  Addiction, as we're starting to find out, is also a spiritual problem.  Alcohol is, for too many people in pain or despair or loneliness, a kind of easy, liquid spirituality.         Small wonder that the only real effective treatment for addiction yet discovered is a spiritual one-- the Twelve Steps of AA.  Small wonder that people from ethnic groups with great, creation-centered, but suppressed indigenous spiritual traditions such as African-Americans, Native Americans and Celts have such high rates of addiction in their communities.

            It's ironic but understandable that the feelings that Peter and Andrew and Mary and the rest felt on that first Day of Pentecost are exactly the same feelings that many people who drink imagine they are feeling--self-confidence, acceptance, wit, insight, relief from worry, intellectual acumen, savoir-faire, happiness, a sense of well-being, of community, of excitement, of hopefulness. You and I know very well that alcohol doesn't really generate that feelings in people. But the fact is, those very traits can and do come to us as gifts of the Holy Spirit.

            Being truly "drunk on the Spirit" isn't debilitating--it's empowering.  Feeling your heart warmed isn't indigestion--it's knowing The Creator's total acceptance and love of all that you are. Being on fire with the Spirit isn't necessarily an ecstatic high, or speaking in tongues, or feeling that you "gotta dance" --although it can mean all those things. It also means receiving the strength and sustaining love to persevere in times of need, to share in time of abundance, to grow, to turn your life around, to challenge evil, to touch and heal the broken lives of others, to answer the call of God in your life.

            The Divine Counselor our Lord promised us will not make us into fools-- or assault our inherent dignity as people. We will not receive spiritual gifts inappropriate to who we are-- or to who God is calling us to become.  The Spirit of Truth is always committed to our truest, ultimate best interest. The Holy Spirit of our God will not call to more than we are capable of doing or becoming.

            The Holy Ghost will however, liberate us from our pomposity, drive from us all phoniness and falseness. The Paraclete will free us from those baseless fears and sinful attitudes that limit us and bind us and keep us from freely becoming the faithful and authentic and joyful people we would all like to be.  The Spirit of the Living God cherishes us and calls us and empowers us to become new people-- freed up and exciting and joyful and energized and on fire with the love of Christ in our hearts.

            The real question for you and I is, are we content to remain spiritual ice cubes?  Or are we going to let the Spirit thaw us out? Are we really happy being cold, distant, uncaring, tightfisted, mean- minded and petty? Are we truly content to go on only half-believing, secretly wondering if all this is some sort of accident or a cosmic joke?

            Do we gain anything by our blind search for some meaning or purpose in our existence? Is there really any point to living a life built around nothing more than seeing how many toys and power and money we can collect before we shuffle off this mortal coil and slide off into oblivion?

            Or are we willing to allow the Holy Spirit into our hearts and lives to stir us and transform us into more compassionate, generous, gentle, kind, understanding, friendly, holy, happy people? Are we willing to open ourselves to belief and commitment and service and joy and hope and meaning and praise?  It's really all up to us.

            Do you remember Paul's words in Romans 8? "The whole of creation is standing on tiptoe to see the wondrous sight of the sons and daughters of God coming into their own." Friends, the world, the cosmos, the Creator literally waits for our decision.

            Here at Christ's Table is all that you and I need to set our hearts and our lives on fire. Here we may drink of the new wine of the Spirit, feast on the Bread of Heaven. Here in the Cup and Bread of Communion is all the nurture we need for growth and sanctification. Here at the Altar is the beginning of our journey toward holiness and wholeness. 

            When we come to the Altar rail in a few moment, let us come with open minds, open hands, open hearts, open spirits-- that the Holy Spirit of the Ruler of the Cosmos might find room to flow into us and among us.

            Let us pray.

                                    Breathe on us, Breath of God.

                                     Fill us with life anew.

                                    That we may love what Thou dost love,

                                    And do what Thou wouldst do.   Amen.

A Lakota Prayer

"to the ends of the earth" given May 15

            There are very few stories in the New Testament with the potential to stretch our imaginations and our faith as profoundly as the account of Christ’s Ascension. Here in one episode we learn something important about our God, and at the same time, we find ourselves challenged to live out that knowledge in our world.

            The problem is that the Ascension is one of the tougher of the church’s historic teachings for rational-minded, scientific-method worshipping Twenty-first Century people like me and you to accept.  On the face of it, the story postulates a three-story universe—Heaven is up in the clouds, Earth on the ground, and Hell beneath the ground. 

            We know that the cosmos isn’t really organized quite so simply or straightforwardly.

In our time, men and women have gone up into the sky. We’ve gone all the way into space, in fact. And as those first Russian cosmonauts so gleefully pointed out, they didn’t see Jesus sitting on a cloud as they passed by. But that piece of socialist realism is no reason for thoughtful Christians to abandon their faith. 

The Ascension is about Theology, not Astronomy. The Bible is a sacred document of faith and wisdom and history. It was inspired by God and intended to be read as such. But the Bible was never intended to be read as a Science 101 textbook.

Some refer to the Bible as the Word of God. But the truth is that it is in the Bible that we encounter the one and only Word of God—Jesus.  The presence of a Bible on your bookshelf can’t save you simply because it’s there. Only the Presence of Christ Jesus in your heart and life can save you. And the point of the Ascension is that he is there—for you, and for me, and for all peoples.

So we need not take the Bible’s worldview literally in order to find food for belief and direction for our lives. In Luke’s time, just as in our time, popular views of space, the earth, the stars, the sky, the universe, and the cosmos had less to do with hard science than with saying something meaningful about the very nature of the universe.

So it was, that back in the 30’s, Orson Welles’ radio rendition of War of the Worlds caused a national panic. That was in part because it reflected a pessimistic outlook common to that day and age.  The universe was seen as alien, forbidding, unfriendly,  if not downright hostile toward human life. There was a sense in which humankind was alone and afraid in a cosmos that is threatening and tragic, just as the world of the thirties was threatening and tragic.

By the 1960s, when the Star Trek phenomenon came along, we were more likely to see life and the universe as a adventure waiting to unfold—possibly dangerous, yes—but still exciting—the final frontier for humanity in it’s outward quest. As the very early sixties were an optimistic, humanistic time in which anything might be possible—so the first Star Treks were optimistic and essentially hopeful about humanity s’ destiny within the cosmos.

The Scriptural accounts of the Ascension in Luke’s Gospel and the Book of Acts

reflect a very different view.  As an educated man of his time, Luke would have been exposed to the idea that the world was round and Heaven that wasn’t necessarily “up there in the sky”. But for Luke’s First Century readers it was a familiar and meaningful way of looking at reality—a symbolic and religious one rather than a literal one. And it’s still not such a bad way for you and I to understand Creation, as well.

            In this view, you and I are far from alone, or aliens in creation. The cosmos is the work of God’s hand. It is in fact, all God’s glorious throne room. It is run for God’s purposes—which are sometimes mysterious, but always benevolent, and ultimately must control all our destinies.

 If you and I sometimes feel alone and afraid in the universe, it’s because we are out of tune with God’s purposes. We try to live for ourselves, to promote our own concerns and interests, even when they conflict with those of our neighbors, even when they clash with God’s concerns. We desperately want to control as much of the universe as we possibly can, on our own terms—however selfish or short sided they may be.

The message and life and resurrection of Jesus points to a Divine power acting

in the universe.  There is a loving, guiding presence that calls humankind beyond cruelty, pride, hypocrisy, selfishness, materialism and such. 

Over and over again throughout history, men and women have played for power. Over and over again, tyrants have had their day. But however devastating it has been, their day has always passed. Ultimately hate and oppression and greed have always been ruled out of order. There is an active, undeniable power for order and for good in Creation—a holy, loving, sustaining power who we call God—Abba—Father.

Taking the story of Christ’s Ascension seriously calls us to understand whose the universe is, and whose we are in it. The Doctrine is not an intellectual fabrication designed to explain the absence of Jesus’ earthly body following the Resurrection.

The point of the story is far more than speculating if Jesus rode up to heaven in a cloud, or a flying saucer, or Elijah’s chariot, or levitated, or was beamed up. The point isn’t how he got there. The point is that the Risen Jesus is now once more with God.

The Ascension is not so much a description of the physical nature of the world and the universe as it is an affirmation of God’s ultimate power in all of Creation. The Ascension is not only a part of the intellectual framework of our faith, it is a spiritual call to a joyful life  of discipleship. The Doctrine of the Ascension points to the fact that at the heart of life in this cosmos, there is mystery and wonder. The Doctrine of the Ascension is an affirmation that Jesus is now free to be with us, his friends and followers in a relationship of loving support unhampered by the limitations of time and space. 

            In the Book of Acts, the disciples attempt to pin Jesus down. What does his marvelous Resurrection mean? What is God going to do for them next?

            “Sir, has the time come? Are you now going to restore the kingdom of Israel? Are you going to bring in the Reign of God?”

            “Never mind about dates and timelines. Leave the times to God. You will soon all receive power from the Holy Spirit to be my witnesses—not only in Jerusalem, not only in Judea and Samaria, but to the ends of the earth. “

            In the Gospel account, He tells them essentially the same thing.

            “You are witnesses of these things. I will send  you all that God has promised. Meanwhile remain here in the city until you are clothed with power from on high. “

            They were the ones who’d been with Jesus from the first.  They’d seen his miraculous healings. They’d heard his teachings. They’d beheld his transfiguration.

They’d shared the Supper in the Upper Room. They had seen him betrayed, arrested,

tried, convicted, tortured, executed, dead and buried. 

And then, they had seen him, raised up from the grave.  This Risen Christ was the same teacher, the same friend, the same man—yet different. They had seen the empty tomb. They had heard the angel. They had beheld him in their midst. They had touched the wounds, seen Him eat the fish. They had felt their hearts strangely warmed by the breaking of bread in his Presence.

And if they couldn’t totally understand or adequately describe the wonder of having Him among them once again, they certainly couldn’t deny His presence either. And now, after this holy time with Him, He was sending them out to tell the world, and to change it, and He was promising them the power to do it.

“Be witnesses for me—even to the ends of the earth.”  He told them. As always, Jesus speaks here a word to the world that is universal. Not everyone can understand Plato.  Only a very few of us can understand the thoughts of an Einstein or a Stephen Hawkins. To understand the faith of Islam, you must learn Arabic. To become an Orthodox Jew, you must learn Hebrew. But Jesus and his message is so straightforward, so pure, so true, so universal that anyone who wants to, can understand Him.

            When Jesus  reached out his hand to cure a leper, breaking all the restrictions and conventions, shattering the prejudices and fears of everyday men and women through love and concern—everybody knew what He meant. When He told a story about a broken-hearted father’s willingness to forgive—everybody understood it. When, dying by inches on the cross he asked God to forgive His persecutors and executioners, nobody needed a Bible Dictionary or a book of commentary to understand what He meant—or who He truly was.

            First Century Jews and Twenty-first Century Africans, farmers, city dwellers, suburbanites, rich, poor, young, old, success, failure—we all can understand Jesus. His love and teachings, His life and ministry is translatable into any language. Time and space don’t count.

The passing of two millennia has not worn away the basic truth of the Sermon on the Mount, or the urgency of His call to us to be His witnesses. Jesus is, in a very real sense, in Heaven, and like the stars He shines just as brightly now as two thousand years ago, just as brightly in the sky above as within our hearts and our lives.

            “Be my witnesses, “ He told them, “and you shall receive power from on high through the Holy Spirit.”  Carrying His words to the end of the world must have seemed like a daunting prospect to the earliest church. Many of them were simply peasants who’d never ventured far from their home village. 

Reading the Gospels, I’m struck again and again with how dense the Disciples seem. They never get Jesus’ point. They’re always saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. I wonder at times what it was that Jesus saw in them, to make him call this mismatched gang of foul-ups and goof-offs to follow Him. It’s almost like they’re only in the Bible for comic relief.

 Reading the Book of Acts, this same bunch of not-too-bright side-kicks have been transformed into confident, fearless, articulate, compassionate, generous and wise spiritual leaders. They healed and did marvelous works. They preached in households, on street corners, in the courtyard of the Temple, even in jail. They stood up for their faith before kings and the Sanhedrin. They taught by the side of the road, in synagogues, on riverbanks, in marketplaces all over the world they knew.

To their own astonishment, they found themselves able to do things they would never have believed were possible. They carried the Gospel from Galilee to Judea, to Samaria, to Greece, Turkey, India, Persia, Rome, Europe—as far as ships and caravans and their own determination would carry them.

            We call them “Saints”, and we imply that they were extraordinary people—capable of great faith, great sacrifices, of doing great things. We call them “Apostles” because they walked with the earthly Jesus. But the truth is, they weren’t so terribly different from you or from me. The difference is that they were willing to open up and trust and let the Spirit into their lives. And we tell ourselves that we too, would have great faith-- we too, would be able to do great things, if we could just have seen Jesus face to face as they did.

            But, the heart of the Doctrine of the Ascension is that we can! We do walk with Jesus. He can and will be and is with us, now. No longer is He constrained by human

limitations. No longer need His love be restricted to one person or group at a time. 

Just as He promised, He sends us His Spirit, who will clothe us with power from on high sufficient to meet any challenge. Any challenge we’re willing to take on—that is.  We too can become confident, fearless, articulate, compassionate, generous and wise. We too, can do great things in His name. If, that is, we dare to believe great things! If that is, we freely open ourselves and our lives to Him. The humble Galilean carpenter has become the Ascended and Cosmic Christ sitting at the  right hand of the Living God.

            “You are my witnesses, I will send the promised power of the Holy Spirit into your lives.”  That is the promise to us from Jesus. The power of the Spirit is within us. We

 have only to take the time to look, and we will discover inner resources that will make our lives meaningful and joyous.  The power of the Spirit is also outside us, blowing where it will, like the wind.  Invite that power into our lives and we will find ourselves challenged  to learn, to listen, to allow the God within us to nurture and grow us at the deepest levels.

Some of you may remember the movie "City Slickers." Billy Crystal plays a bored

baby boomer who’s not very happy with his life. On career day, he visits his son's school

along with other fathers, to tell about his work, selling radio advertising. Suddenly he lets

loose a deadpan monologue to the bewildered youngsters in the class

Value this time in your life, kids, because this is the time in your life

when you still have your choices. It goes by fast.

When you're a teenager, you think you can do anything and you do.

Your twenties are a blur.

Thirties, you raise your family, you make a little money, and you think to

yourself, "What happened to my twenties?"

Forties, you grow a little pot belly, you grow another chin. The music

starts to get too loud, one of your old girlfriends from high school becomes

a grandmother.

Fifties, you have a minor surgery -- you'll call it a procedure, but it's a

surgery.

Sixties, you'll have a major surgery, the music is still loud, but it

doesn't matter because you can't hear it anyway.

Seventies, you and the wife retire to Fort Lauderdale. You start eating

dinner at 2:00 in the afternoon, you have lunch around 10:00, breakfast the

night before, spend most of your time wandering around malls looking for the

ultimate soft yogurt and muttering, "How come the kids don't call? How come

the kids don't call?"

The eighties, you'll have a major stroke, and you end up babbling with some

Jamaican nurse who your wife can't stand, but who you call mama.

Crystal then looks at the kids and asks, "Any questions?"

Contrast that scene with Jesus standing in the midst of His disciples and friends telling them that even though he is leaving them, they will be clothed with power from heaven. They will have power for the living of full lives, significant lives, meaningful lives.

The power of the Spirit can also come upon us. We need only ask.  When you and I answer our Savior’s call, all the power we need, all the spiritual gifts, all the faith, all the hope, all the inspiration, all the meaning and joy in life, all the power for living that  we can imagine will be there for us.

We need only respond with whole hearts, and we will see miracles in this congregation, miracles in this community, miracles in our own lives and families—

even unto the ends of the earth.