The neck bone's connected to the....

1 Corinthians 12:12-31

(entering shaking as many hands as possible)....

There are 206 bones, 639 muscles, 6 pounds of skin, and a whole bunch of tendons, ligaments, veins, arteries, and  other stuff in the human body.  Day in and day out, we don’t give a single one of them even a cursory thought.  But think, for just a moment, how truly amazing the human body is.  Think about how powerful it is.  Think of what it took for me to walk down here and come speak to some of y’all.  It started in my head; I had to think “I’m going to walk down here and I’m going to greet a few people”.  Then my brain sent signals to my feet and legs to start moving, taking steps forward and down; my feet and legs moved in such a way that kept me balanced, upright, and propelled forward.  Then the muscles in my neck turned my head and I smiled as my lungs forced air over my vocal cords to make sound and my arm extended my hand which them grasped your hand and squeezed.  And that’s the simple version of it!  But all of these things have to work together, seamlessly, parts in a whole working together for the common good. 

But it always isn’t as easy, pleasant, or graceful as it happened for me this morning.  There were so many opportunities for problems:  I could have tripped over my own two feet, I could have fumbled my words, I could have made the handshake awkward, the speed or volume of my speech may not have been what I wanted it to be.  That ever happened to you? 

Well, what if one day all your muscles, tendons, bones, nerves, and stuff decide they’re tired of taking orders from that bossy old brain.  There it sits…high up on that mountain, not doing a thing except barking out orders to us and not just barking these orders, but nit-picking and micro-managing how we do them!  ENOUGH! 

Rebellion is at hand….or afoot.  They couldn’t decide.

So the brain says stand up, and the legs say no.  The brain says speak, the mouth says no.  And we’re at a standstill.

Then, all these parts that are rebelling against the brain start getting a little self-assure.  Cocky…if you will.  They stop appreciating each other.  The mouth starts to realize that all this time the stomach has acted so haughty…but without the mouth, the stomach doesn’t get the food it needs to do its job.  The neck feels worthless because it’s only job is to hold up and turn the head and starts to covet the feet, who move the whole body.  The feet decide it’s not fair that the other set of appendages, the hands, get to greet everybody and they start sticking themselves out when other people are encountered.  Before you know it, this once unified and cohesive body now resembles Ace Ventura…pet detective (as portrayed by Jim Carrey in the 90’s).  A big, ridiculous mess. 

And as they fight amongst themselves, they start to realize how good it was when they were together.  Because, you see, the brain actually did more than just tell them what to do.  The brain was a cheer leader, an encourager, a motivator, directing this massive orchestra of traffic and movement into one seamless, graceful body.  One by one, they came to realize that what they did mattered.  There was joy to be found in each of their gifts.  They were interconnected, and dependent on each other, and not only is that a good thing, but it’s a thing filled with its own blessings.    

These, apparently, were a people at strife.  They just couldn’t get it together it seemed.  Who knows why.  Maybe they were all kin; it’s not at all uncommon to have communities in the south that are comprised of primarily one central family.  Like Lynchburg…or Chapel Hill.  Maybe they were people who had congregated together out of similarity…sometimes that can work against people.    Maybe the church was so poorly organized that there was a “power vacuum” and everyone was vying for that “top spot”.  Maybe there was too much jealousy over talents, and gifts, and roles or positions within the church. 

I think, maybe, it was all of these things. 

We each are given gifts from the Spirit; the catch is, we don’t get to make requests.  These gifts come from the Spirit as the Spirit sees fit.  Sometimes it’s what you want…sometimes it isn’t what you want…and sometimes, it’s something you don’t want at all…and because of that, you deny it and suppress it. 

I’ve always wanted to sing.  We have some really talented folks in this church that can really make some beautiful music with their voices.  I’ve never been able to do that.  It’s not by mistake that I back up, then back up some more away from the pulpit mic during the song service…and you’ve probably noticed my OCD kick in when I double and triple check the wireless mic just to make sure it’s not on.  As much as I’ve always wanted, singing was never given to me as a gift.  Instead, the Spiritual Gifts inventory told me I had gifts in teaching, and speaking, and administration, and shepherding, and suffering (who wants suffering as a spiritual gift?!?). 

So when you deny your gifts, either because you’d prefer something else or these gifts scare you, what happens?  A lot of things.  You were given these gifts for a purpose, and when you deny these gifts, that purpose goes unfulfilled.  When that purpose goes unfulfilled, it’s like a rock thrown in a pond.  The ripple can travel for miles…and the absence of your gifts, these special things given to you by the Spirit of God, are felt throughout the entire Kingdom of believers. 

Not only do our gifts give us purpose, they make us belong.  They knit and weave us together into one unified…well, body.  These gifts bring us together in a way that your gifts of administration overlap with your gifts of teaching, which impact your gifts of service and exhortation, and the chain reaction keeps going, and going….

So our gifts give us purpose, they make us belong; and those two things lead to what you and I are responsible for:  participation.  It’s one thing to receive and accept your gifts, but a totally different thing to use those gifts within the Body of Christ in communion with a community of other believers.  Lots of things keep us from living into our connection with the body:  intimidation, bashfulness, feeling like there’s not a place for me…and sometimes we who are involved in this community of believers get so caught up in our jobs and our tasks and our own gifts that we don’t realize just how much we depend on each other and when new people come in, we don’t see the harm we may be doing by not encouraging and including and maybe even realizing their potential more than they do and pushing them a little when necessary.  Just as the feet give us foundation and the legs propel us forward and the backbone keeps up standing upright and the hands and arms move about us fulfilling their jobs…we each have our purpose as an individual and as members, together, in the Body of Christ.

When parts of our body stop working together and start working against each other, we recognize the problem and we go to the doctor.  We need our bodies to work, and work at the top of their game.  We don’t need our liver working against our kidneys, working against our heart.  So, then, why do we allow it to happen in the body of Christ?  Even worse, why are we guilty of orchestrating this chaos and dysfunction?  Why do we continue to, like the Corinthians, cause our own strife and discord?  Why do we value others higher and devalue others and for whatever reason fail to love our neighbor even as we are loved?

We need to stop seeing individuals, and start seeing the body of Christ.  People connected through the waters of baptism as siblings.  And we need to treat this body – this collection of people – with the same respect we treat our own bodies.

I want to leave you with a thought:  When you think of the word “church”, what context do you think of it in?  Are you a “go to church” kind of person, or are you a “we are the church” kind of person?

I bring you this message in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Mistaken Identity

Second Sunday after Epiphany

John 2:1-11

What are we supposed to learn from this sort of odd story?  Let’s ask the Spirit to reveal the lesson we are supposed to hear this morning.

It seems pretty cut and dry.  If the wedding had occurred in the south, here’s how I envision it going down:

Jesus’ mother wants to go to this wedding (maybe it was a neighbor, a cousin, a friend’s son or daughter…who knows).  So she talks Jesus into going with her, and he talks his buddies into coming with him. They run out sweet tea.  Mary turns to Jesus in shock and says “oh bless their hearts they’ve ran out of sweet tea. How embarrassing.  Oh I feel so bad for them.  What can we do?”  To which Jesus says, “Whelp…now’s a good a time as any to hit the road”, which Mary responded with a look that only a mother can give (you know those looks…I think they teach new moms that look before they’re discharged from the hospital…), and Jesus says “Mama, it ain’t our issue, and this ain’t the time nor the place”.  So, like any helpful mom, Mary tells the servers “this is my son Jesus and he’s agonna fix this; just do what he says and it’ll all be ok”.  While giving his mom side-eye (y’all know what side-eye is, right?  It’s when you’re not happy and you’re not going to justify the situation with full blown stink-eye, so you lazily peer out of the corner of your eye in contempt).  So, with this side-eye and a (exhale), he sees the six 30-gallon drums filled with water.  They were there to wash water for your hands.   (How many people were at this wedding to need 180 gallons of water!?)  So Jesus told them to fill the drums up to the brim and now scoop a cup of it up and take it to the wedding planner…and they did.  And when the wedding planner took a drink and said “well my goodness this is better than my Mama’s sweet tea…why did we save this to the last?”

And turning water into sweet tea better than mama’s (because let’s face it… mama’s sweet tea is the best there is), and this was his first “sign”, even to his disciples.

There’s a lot we can take from this story.  My biggest question was around the jars of water.  The part of the world where Jesus lived was and still is arid.  Water is a commodity of high value…and they had 180 gallons of water for purification (which consisted of the men dipping their fingertips in, ceremoniously).  They couldn’t have had this much water in anticipation of a ton of guests…because in contrast, why would they severely under plan the amount of wine they would need?  Unless, they invited some serious, professional drinkers.  Why does Jesus not want to help save the host, the bridegroom, from the social embarrassment of not having enough to drink for his guests?  Why does Mary turn to her son for help?  What did she want him to do – take up a collection and run down to the liquor store and get some more wine?  When he said no, why did she push, even to the point of cornering him up?  Did she know something he didn’t? 

I think so. 

My hour has not yet come he said.  This isn’t the time.  Mary knew her son was capable of great things…and destined for even greater.  What had she experienced that made her know – that gave her the faith in her son’s abilities? 

I think his in essence “no” response to acting in this situation had nothing to do with the situation (alleviating the embarrassment from this social faux pas), or with wine, or marriage, or many of the things you and I relate in this story; maybe his response was rooted in a place of  inadequacy.   Self-esteem issues…doubting himself.  Maybe “it’s not my time” was really an “I’m not ready” or a “not yet”.  And I understand that completely.  When the DS asked me to take this circuit, my exact answer was “oh no – I have no idea what I’m doing; not yet”.  When the MCMA asked me to preach the Thanksgiving service, my response was “oh…that’s not going to happen; I’m not ready”. 

But when Christ said it’s not time, his Mother, probably his biggest supporter, the strongest earthly relationship he had…she said it is time.  So what did she mean by that?  Was it to boost his self-esteem?  Maybe some…but I see something else ….

If I were to say…Hi my name is Tim and I’m a fighter pilot, raise your hand if you believe me.

How about a cowboy?  Or an astronaut?  Race car driver? 

How do you know I’m not these things (if you’ve ever been behind me in traffic you know that the race car driver thing ain’t true).  Is it because I don’t act like a cowboy?  Or I’m not dressed like an astronaut or a fighter pilot? 

So, right here right now, if I said Hi, my name is Tim and I’m a pastor…raise your hand if you believe that (and y’all all better get to raising your hands).  So what makes you believe that?  The fact that I’m wearing a clerical collar?  That I’m up here, in the pulpit of a church preaching? 

They were proof driven people.  Seeing is believing.  Show me the money.  I’ll believe it when I see it.  For whatever reason.  So maybe Mary knew that it was time for the world to know who her child is.  Maybe it was time for his glory to be proclaimed.  Maybe it was time for Christ to stop saying he is the son of the Most High…and maybe it was time he showed them. 

So how does this story impact us here in Marshall County in 2019?  Quite simply.  Without Facebook posts, without bumper stickers and t-shirts…do people know you are a disciple of Christ?  Do they know you have chosen a life of service?  Do they know you follow the peaceful leadership of Jesus?  In your speech do you exalt others?  Do you do no harm, do you do good?  Does the love of Christ shine through you for all…ALL to see? 

I want to close with a joke…that at first made me laugh, and then my laughter faded into somber realization….

A man was being tailgated by a stressed out woman on a busy street.  Suddenly, the light he was approaching turned yellow, and he did the right thing and stopped behind the crosswalk, even though he could have ran the red light. 

The tailgating woman was furious and honked her horn, and when he looked in his rear view mirror he could see the woman screaming at him in frustration as she missed her chance to speed through the intersection.

As she was still mid rant, the man looked and saw the blue lights, and watched as a police officer cautiously approached the woman’s car and ordered her to “get out now and get on the ground!”.  She was cuffed, her car impounded, and she was taken to the police station and finger printed, photographed, and placed in a holding cell. 

After a few hours, a different police officer came and opened the door to the holding cell, and escorted the woman back to the booking desk where the arresting officer stood with the woman’s belongings. 

He proceeded to say to her “I’m very sorry for this mistake.  You see, I pulled up behind you while you were blowing your horn, flipping off the guy in front of you, and cussing a blue streak at him.  Then I noticed the left bumper sticker on the car that said “What Would Jesus Do”, and the bumper sticker on the right of the car that said “Follow Me to Sunday School”, and the license plate holder that said “God Is My Co-Pilot” along with the fish emblem on the trunk, so naturally I assumed you had stolen this car”.

We tell the world who we are by our actions.  Who do your actions portray you to be? 

I bring you this message in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Baptism of the Lord, Year C

January 13, 2018

The Baptism of the Lord

Our Gospel lesson opens by setting the “climate”…the Hebrew people are waiting.  Filled with expectation.  They were anxious and on the edge of their seat in hope – they are holding out for the Messiah that is to come, to liberate them, to save them from bondage and captivity.  A fighter, a military ruler, a savage take no prisoners type of leader.  They were all thinking that John the Baptist might just be this Messiah they’ve been waiting on.  And I probably would have thought that too.  Here’s this man…born around the same time as Christ, he’s loud, brazen, strong, he points out injustice and illuminates wrongs.  He preaches with a fiery tongue; he is fearless. 

But he tells the anxiety ridden people “I am not the one”…which doesn’t help them at all.  He tells them that there is one coming, one more powerful than him…which amplifies the search and waiting for that fearless warrior leader. 

Then we skip forward just a bit, and we see that there are people being baptized.  Luke casually transitions past Christ’s baptism, mentioning it only once and after the fact. 

Then, Jesus prayed.  When he prayed to God, we see that God responded.  The heavens opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon Christ in the form of a dove, and God, the Father of Christ, spoke to Jesus…”You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased”. 

After I read Luke’s recollection a few times, and even compared it to Matthew and Mark’s stories, I noticed that Luke doesn’t focus on the act of baptism at all.  So what does he hope we take away from his version of this pivotal moment?

I want everyone to take a moment and think.  Are you baptized?  If you are, do you remember your baptism?  Was it as an adult or as an infant?  Are you confirmed?

Growing up baptism was a big deal for us.  Being Baptist, you can imagine the presence baptism had in our theology.  It was such a big deal that if you were to ask any of us what it was like, we would all respond “life changing” and “mystical” and we would all agree that we felt different after coming back up vs how we felt before submersion. 

We put such an emphasis on baptism…but why?  What was so mystical, magical, and supernatural about the water?  Was the water the tool of salvation?   The truth is, I didn’t feel any different after coming up out of the water than I did going under.  I dare not share that…because that would have mean that I wasn’t actually “saved” because sometimes it didn’t take the first time…or maybe it took, but you strayed or “backslid” and because you were dirty again you needed to be baptized again. 

I don’t want to downplay baptism and please don’t take what I’m saying as that; but what is it about the act that we put such an emphasis on?  The water doesn’t secure our place in eternity, the minister administering the sacrament doesn’t forgive our sin….

That’s partially why I connect so strongly to Luke’s recollection of the Baptism of Christ.  The act of baptism isn’t the focal point. 

I think what we need to focus in on is how connectional baptism is.  We see after Christ’s baptism, during prayer, the connection he shares with his Father, when the heavens open and he hears God’s voice calling to him…”Son, beloved, with you I am well pleased”.  I thought for a minute…I can’t imagine how Jesus must have felt…but then, maybe I can.  Is it not the goal of every son to get the approval and love of his father?  What would have made Christ – fully divine, yet fully human, with human emotions – so different? 

And look at the way Luke tells us Christ was baptized.  We see that there is no ceremonial fanfare, he wasn’t carried in and presented in grand fashion, the whole event wasn’t “extra” as we would say.  John didn’t stop baptizing the others to make special accommodations for Christ.  Jesus simply got in line and was baptized with the people. Christ, who was free of sin, stood in line with and was baptized before and after sinners.  Common people.  People who fall short and aren’t worthy.  People like you and me. 

Isn’t this the type of covenant we are called to?  To get in line with each other, support each other, to help each other?  To love each other?  Are we doing that?  Do we look at one other and say “through baptism you are my brother/sister; you are amazing.  Thank you”.  Do we share that with strangers?  Do we exemplify that in all we do?