Sermons

March 6, 2016

Texts: Genesis 27:28-29; 27:39-40; 28:3-4; 33:10-11

I'd like to begin this morning by reading to you parts of a young man's prayer written shortly before his death.

I pray to you God to forgive me from all my sins, to allow me to glorify you in every possible way.
Oh God, open all doors for me. Oh God who answers prayers and answers those who ask you, I am asking you for your help. I am asking you for forgiveness. I am asking you to lighten my way. I am asking you to lift the burden I feel.
God, I trust in you. God, I lay myself in your hands. I ask with the light of your faith that has lit the whole world and lightened all darkness on this earth, to guide me.

The author of this prayer was 33-year-old Mohammed Atta the night before he led eighteen others in the attacks of 9/11 that killed 3000 people.  This is not the prayer of a psychopathic monster.  It seems to be the prayer of a deeply devout man seeking to do God's will at any personal cost, what Jonathan Sacks has called "altruistic evil."

February 28, 2016

Paul has always been a favorite of mine.  I know that for some, Paul seems oppressive, particularly when he is alleged to have talked about the limited role of women in the church.  Even as a teenager, I did not buy this—and it turns out that many scholars are quite clear that Paul did not write that in a letter; someone else inserted the statement at a later time.

Years ago my former husband and I would have dinner and talk about whom we would like to invite to dinner the following night.  He would always want Lenin and perhaps Chomsky.  I would always want Paul, Eleanor Roosevelt and Mary Cosby.  Wouldn’t you love to hear those three talk about God’s work in the world?

Last fall, under the leadership of David Dorsey, our mission group studied the authentic letters of Paul.  It was a wonderful study.  This morning I would like to focus on Paul’s letter to Philemon. 

Texts:
Genesis 21:1-21,
Micah 4:3-7, Hebrews 13: 1-3, 5-6

Thank you.  And hello, friends. 

Back in January, when Marcia Harrington gave her teaching on God’s covenant with Abraham, she mentioned that our mission group is reading a book together, Not in God’s Name: Confronting Religious Violence by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks.  Rabbi Sacks served as the chief Rabbi for the United Kingdom for over 20 years and his very timely book was published here less than a year ago. 

I have been very grateful for this book this Lenten season because, for the past year, I have had a sense that the world seems to be falling apart.  I have been aware of a lot of ideologically motivated violence all over the world, and I have found this sad and challenging to my perceptions of the world. 

This year we all became more aware of increasingly violent conflicts that are forcing people from their homes all over the world.  The United Nations estimates that there are 60 million people worldwide who have been displaced by violent conflicts and natural disasters.  Tens of thousands of people continue to flood into Europe seeking safety from violence, much of it religious violence, in Syria, Iraq, Sudan, Yemen, and Nigeria, the list goes on. 

February 7, 2016    

Today’s old testament reading offers us a curious description of what happened just after God entered into the first covenant with Israel—Moses' encounter with God had given him a radiant face, and, to manage his relationship with both God and Israel, Moses began a practice of veiling and unveiling his face, depending on who he was with, and what he was doing. 

To provide context, in Exodus chapter 32, Moses received the Ten Commandments from God on two tablets, which he destroyed in anger when he discovered that the Israelites had made a golden calf to worship instead of God.   Several commentators suggest that this was done in order to save the Israelites from God's wrath, since they did not deserve a covenant relationship with God because of their sin.     

To understand what’s going on in this week’s portion, we first have to go back to last week’s lectionary Gospel reading, which is the first half of what Luke created as a unified story.  It’s the story of what happened when Jesus taught in the synagogue in his hometown, Nazareth.  Luke is an astute storyteller, so it’s important to bring the chopped-up halves back together to avoid distorting either half.

Lord God, I thank you.  I thank you for this moment in the history of our nation.  I thank you for this assembly of your Kingdom.  I thank you that we have gotten past the celebration of the coming of your beloved son.  This morning, through your Spirit, I’m inviting us to draw attention to the questions: What now that you have come? How we are to respond to your coming?

Well, good morning to you, the Eighth Day community. When I was listed as a guest, I had some mixed feelings about that, because many of you I know quite well and work with from time to time so I don’t feel like a guest.  But there are others for whom I really am a guest, so that balances it out, and I feel comfortable in saying that I really am a guest.

Greetings from Friends of Jesus church!  You have been faithful in working with us, and we see you as friends and neighbors in this journey.  The scripture you just heard was the gospel part of the lectionary, but this morning I want to talk a little about what I think.  I would like for you to be asking the Spirit to guide you in hearing what you hear me say.

December 20, 2015
Text: Luke 1:39-55

In my mind, Advent is not so much about turning ourselves around, repentance if you will, as it is about our stopping our regular activities, unplugging from media mindlessness and watching and waiting for the incarnation of God.  An incarnation that was and is and is to come.  There is no agenda here about our wrongness or rightness or call, instead the agenda belongs to God. 

Where is God’s incarnation today?  Seeing God in our world right now feels particularly difficult with for me: knowing how and why and what ISIS is doing in the Middle East; the many Syrian refugees; the systemic violence in the longstanding Israel-Palestine tensions; and in our country, a budding epiphany about the violence and large inequities of our own African-American population.  Where can we see God? 

December 13, 2015
Text: Luke 3:7-18

... As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I is coming: I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

So, what is the good news here?  That Jesus is coming with his winnowing fork, to separate the wheat from the chaff?  That sounds pretty threatening and ominous.  Is that John’s intention?  To scare people into repentance?  Into sharing what they have?  What do you think?

Winnowing image

Unless you grew up on a farm, the image of Jesus with a winnowing fork probably has little meaning for you.  In some parts of the Third World, you might have seen women tossing cracked wheat or rice into the air, so the wind will blow away the hulls and leave the heavier grains behind.  It’s a process of separating the outer hull from the inner grain.  John’s audience would have known that it’s not a sinister or judgmental activity.  It’s simply a process of separating the hard shell of protection that’s no longer needed, from the inner kernel that will be nourishing when cooked and eaten.

Due to a computer glitch, there is no text of Karen's teaching available, but you may listen to or download the audio file.