Monday, February 29, 2016

Silencing The Noise

Isaiah 55:1-13
 “Silencing the Noise”
28 February 2106 St. Andrew’s Military Chapel Singapore

            So, let’s play a little game of product recognition. I’ll say a slogan and you tell me what company used it as a tag line in their ads.

            Between Love and Madness lies obsession: Calvin Klein’s Obsession

            Breakfast of Champions: Wheaties

            Where’s the Beef: Wendy’s

            Eat Fresh: Subway

            Eat More Chikin: Chick Fil A

            Have it Your Way: Burger King

            Just Do it: Nike

            Maybe She’s Born with it, Maybe it’s …: Maybelline

            The Ultimate Driving Machine: BMW

            The Best a Man Can Get: Gillette

            We Answer to a Higher Authority: Hebrew National

            Where a Kid Can Be a Kid: Chuck E. Cheese
            There are some sources that say we are exposed to about 5,000 ads each day. Now this doesn’t necessarily mean that we actually see that many ads each day, but rather we are in close proximity to advertising all around us. I found one study that agreed with that number but said that we only really see about 400 ads a day, and that of those we only really notice about 90 and are only affected by about a dozen ads a day.
           
            We live in a world that is driven by our purchasing power. The marketplace desperately wants our attention so that we can consume the goods they are hawking. Because our time is limited, they need to up the ante with the techniques and flashiness of the ads. How else can one compete with school, work, after school products, our desire to relax and travel, and all of the other places we feel we need to do to keep up with the Jones’ (Pun partially intended).

            Sometimes it seems as if the American Dream (if that ever was a real thing) has been completely taken over by a race to buy the next product that will solve all of our problems.

            George Carlin once said, “Advertising sells you things you don't need and can't afford, that are overpriced and don't work. And they do it by exploiting your fears and insecurities, and if you don't have any they'll be glad to give you a few by showing you a nice picture of a woman.”

Another comedian, Louis C.K. has said, “It seems like the better it gets, the more miserable people become. There’s never a technological advancement where people think, “Wow, we can finally do this!” … And I think a lot of it has to do with advertising. Americans have it constantly drilled into our heads that we deserve everything to be perfect all the time.”

Even Mark Twain, a king of one-liners, got in on the criticism writing in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, “Many a small thing has been made large by the right kind of advertising.”

            Nor is this concern for advertising and the marketplace a new idea. A minister named Martin Dean Everett wrote in 1932, “It is impossible to understand the American public without taking into account the tremendous psychological effect of bringing up a generation of people in a daily environment of advertising. It is impossible to escape the advertising man; his sales talk assaults us in the morning newspaper, in the street car, with billboards along the highways, and in his shameless use of the radio. This means that from morning till night, in the midst of our work as in our recreation, we live constantly in an atmosphere of intellectual shoddiness. Every popular prejudice and vulgar conceit is played upon and pandered to in the interests of salesmanship. Everywhere material interests and herd opinion are strengthened to the loss of personal independence. The tendency is to think and speak for effect rather than out of one's inner life. There is a marked decline the ability to play with ideas, or to live the spiritual life for its own sake. Hence a decline in civilization of interest, humor and urbanity. Advertising tends to make mechanized barbarians of us all.”

            What does all this have to do with the Isaiah passage? Perhaps it’s that advertising has taken such a prominent voice that we actually start to believe in the false promises of Madison Avenue over the promises of God. This is powerfully stated by Simone Weil. “Between a poem by Valéry and an advertisement for a beauty cream promising a rich marriage to anyone who used it there was at no point a breach of continuity. So as a result of literature’s spiritual usurpation a beauty cream advertisement possessed, in the eyes of little village girls, the authority that was formerly attached to the words of priests.”

            In the midst of the din of advertising, we tend to miss the still small voice of God speaking to us. The voice that truly leads us to water, sustenance, and truly living. (Play Video)

God isn’t in a religion of materialism, of pursuing the rat race, of not slowing down, of putting the market before others. A market-based religion will never have enough. The faith that Isaiah is calling us to is one that relies on God to fulfill our needs. Madison Avenue, despite how hard they try to convince us, can never fill our deepest needs.

But, Isaiah doesn’t just stop at telling us to focus on God for our needs and fulfillment. That would be too easy for a prophetic word. He goes another step and tells us that we should call on unknown nations and people and spread the Good News to them so they will run to God. God’s word won’t return empty from those places, but will accomplish God’s purpose not just in our lives but for the whole world. It is for this purpose that we have been glorified by God.


We live our lives surrounded by many people hawking snake oil to cure our woes. I don’t think any of our jobs or schools are compatible with becoming Luddites and ignoring the world. In fact, we’re called to be in the world for only in the world can we see the problems and become an effective light of Christ pointing people to a better reality. Let us work together and support each other to be amplifiers of the still small voice of God. Let us seek those holy moments around us and point others to them so that for just a moment, we all stop and see God at work above the noise. From those moments and whispers, we become more attuned to God all around us, allowing us to see God more and more each and every day. So let us go out from this place focused more on God and less on Madison Avenue so that the trees of the field will clap at the spreading of God’s light to the world.

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Being Faithful

Genesis 15: 1-18
 “Being Faithful”
21 February 2106 St. Andrew’s Military Chapel Singapore

            Abram is rightly lifted up to us as a paragon of faith. Much like David, we are extolled to be like him because he is the father of our faith. In fact, three major faith groups claim him as the father. We call Christianity, Judaism, and Islam Abrahamic faith groups.

For 15 verses in Hebrews 11, Paul extols the faith of Abraham (the longest description of faith in what some call the Faith Hall of Fame). Paul tells us that in faith, Abraham set out to an unknown place and stayed there longer than expected living out of tents. His faith provided him and Sarah protection and allowed them to overcome infertility. Most famously, in faith Abraham marched Isaac up a hill and laid him on an altar as a sacrifice to God. Thankfully, God stepped in just in the knick of time. And we also remember Abram (or Abraham as God changes his name a little later in time) for these deeds.

Unfortunately, much like David, we like to point to certain righteous episodes in Abram’s life as what a life of faith looks like. With David, the whole Bathsheba and Uriah episodes are glossed over or turned into a leadership lesson for military leaders. With Abram, we tend to ignore how he disowned Sarah, who Ishmael’s mother was, how he and Sarah laughed at God (though to their credit they did recognized angels in their midst during that story), and how in this story Abram actually has the audacity to question God directly.

Maybe it’s because our society likes winners and is quick to allow for second chances that we gloss over these stories. Maybe it’s because we want happy endings and are scared to attribute any struggle to God’s hand, so we just write god given struggles off to evil’s residence in the world. Maybe we still cling to the ancient idea that if you aren’t succeeding, aren’t blessed, then karma, Murphy’s Law, bad luck, etc. is having it’s way with you because you aren’t a true believer. It leads us to think that questioning our faith is a lack of faith. And that way of thinking is very dangerous, and frankly unbiblical.

It’s ok to question one’s faith. In fact, I’d argue it’s essential to strengthening one’s faith. Life will always throw a curve ball when everything tells us to expect the heat right down the middle. Typically, the questions lead us deeper into Scripture and our own understandings and interpretations that we are more confident in our faith. This leads to further questions, thus repeating a very healthy cycle.

Sometimes things happen that we have no control over that leads to questions. In those situations, people on the outside typically call the situation a faith crisis. I’d like to have us erase that phrase from our theological vocabulary. In this passage, an outsider may accuse Abram and Sarai of a faith crisis, but they are asking God a legitimate and important question. God promised them they would be the beginning of a great nation, but they are as yet unable to conceive a child.

            We enter this story at the point where Abram has had enough of the blind following. Or maybe the blind following has him thinking deeply about his faith and has lead to questions, doubts. He was promised something and is getting old, so he questions God, “What are you going to do for me because I still don’t have a child? Are you going to fulfill your covenant with me through one of my slaves?”

            The father of our faith had questions. Important ones. Questions we all ask in difficult times. Faith and trust are synonymous more so than faith and blessed. Sometimes we fall into the American trap of thinking our faith manifests itself in the outward appearance of a good life, what many would call a blessed life.

            One of my instructors from seminary recently had a piece published in the New York Times Sunday Reader. In it she states:

            “Over the last 10 years, ‘being blessed’ has become a full-fledged American phenomenon. Drivers can choose between the standard, mass-produced ‘Jesus is Lord’ novelty license plate or ‘Blessed’ for $16.99 in a tasteful aluminum. When an ‘America’s Next Top Model’ star took off his shirt, audiences saw it tattooed above his bulging pectorals. When Americans boast on Twitter about how well they’re doing on Thanksgiving, #blessed is the standard hashtag. It is the humble brag of the stars. #Blessed is the only caption suitable for viral images of alpine vacations and family yachting in barely there bikinis. It says: ‘I totally get it. I am down-to-earth enough to know that this is crazy.’ But it also says: ‘God gave this to me. Don’t blame me, I’m blessed.’

            “Blessed is a loaded term because it blurs the distinction between two very different categories: gift and reward. It can be a term of pure gratitude. ‘Thank you, God. I could not have secured this for myself. For being the kind of person who gets it right.’ It is a perfect word for an American society that says it believes the American dream is based on hard work, not luck

            “If Oprah could eliminate a single word, it would be ‘luck.’ ‘Nothing about my life is lucky,’ she argued on her cable show. ‘Nothing. A lot of grace. A lot of blessings. A lot of divine order. But I don’t believe in luck. For me luck is preparation meeting the moment of opportunity.’ This is America, where there are no setbacks, just setups. Tragedies are simply tests of character.

            “It is the reason a neighbor knocked on our door to tell my husband that everything happens for a reason.

            “I’d love to hear it,’ my husband said.

            “Pardon?’ she said, startled.

            “I’d love to hear the reason my wife is dying,’ he said, in that sweet sour way he has.”

            Kate goes on to conclude the article saying, “but mostly I find the daily lives of believers remarkable and, often, inspirational. They face the impossible and demand that God make a way.” Sounds a bit like Abram demanding God to come through with his ridiculous promise of descendants greater than the stars in the heavens.

            I frequently attend the Montreat Youth Conference during the summers I am not half way around the world from North Carolina. My favorite role is to volunteer as the College Work Crew Coordinator where I work with students who are at least a year out of college and we work as the behind the scenes sherpas to help the conference run. It lets me meet not only some amazing students, but I really get to know all the other volunteers and their families.

            One family I have been blessed to meet is the family of a gifted photographer, Michael. He does that work full time and has even been credentialed by both Florida and Florida State which allowed him to go to the national title game in Pasadena a few years ago, among other high level athletic events around the country. Not just Michael, but his wife and two daughters ooze the love of Christ and are a family I always hope to find on the same team of volunteers the years I get to attend Montreat.

            Last Sunday, my Facebook feed exploded with the news of his youngest daughter’s tragic death in a car accident. She was only 20. I just looked at the screen in shock for a long time when I woke up Monday morning. Laura was just a beacon of light wherever she stood. I can’t imagine their pain, I can’t offer words because there are none.

            I haven’t talked to them, other than sending a message like hundreds of others of the Montreat and Jacksonville families. It wouldn’t surprise me if they, like Abram and Sarai are asking deep, hard questions of God right now. For I know that everyone whom Laura touched with her infectious personality are asking questions as my news feed can attest. And, I can confidently proclaim, there is no way that is a lack of faith. Amidst the questioning there is trust that God will make sense of that tragedy somehow as a week later I am continuing to see photos with the #LivelikeLaura. It takes an unbelievable amount of trust to seek and speak beauty into unspeakable tragedy. And that, my friends, is faith.

Faith isn’t just believing, it isn’t just confessing, it isn’t following rules. It is trusting God. It is trusting that God is there. Even in the midst of infertility, cancer, tragedy, fill in the blank. I can doubt his motives, I can question his methods, I can yell at him for causing pain, and I can wonder why certain things happen in a certain order.


            But, the fact that I am asking means that I trust God is there. That God is real. That it all matters and means something. Despite our doubts, or maybe because of our doubts, we can trust in God not really knowing what is next, climbing out of a valley confident God is there. And that’s a faith I can believe in. That’s a faith I want to believe in. That’s the faith I strive for.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Christ's Yes

Romans 10:8b-13
Luke 4:1-13
 “Christ’s Yes”
14 February 2106 St. Andrew’s Military Chapel Singapore

            Today we gather at the beginning of Lent, a time when we are called to self-reflection, penitence, and waiting for the horror of crucifixion, the shame of abandonment, and the joy of redemption through resurrection. In a season of the church’s calendar that can feel dark and foreboding, it can feel odd to seek out Scripture that shines light into that darkness. So, it is with that backdrop that the lectionary provides us with a passage from Romans that is full of hope and focuses us on the main thing, Christ and our profession of faith.

            It is doubly fitting that on Valentine’s Day we are able to read these passages that drip with the importance of Christ’s love for each of us and the sheer simplicity of how we can return that love followed by the love we are called to reflect back to the world. Because of Christ saying no to the world but saying yes to people, we can live in the hope of resurrection and look forward to Easter despite the season of Lent.

            From an early age, we are good at saying no. Especially to those who have some sort of control over our lives. How many times do we hear young children say no to their parents? How many times do we look for a reason to say no while we are at work instead of doing the extra work to answer yes? It’s our nature to say no to things that aren’t our idea or if someone is asking us to do something that may require a bit more effort on our part.

            When he was tempted by Satan, Jesus repeatedly took the path that would require much more work and which did not benefit him personally. He turned water into wine, so converting stone to bread wouldn’t have been a hard task. Plus, demonstrating that ability would pave the way for Christ to provide bread for the world. When Satan promised to hand over day to day control of the earth to Jesus, saying yes would have immediately put Christ’s justice and grace as the law of the land. Proving God’s protection by taking that leap would have shown everyone, including the religious elite that the messiah was truly here. Yet, Christ said no.

            Christ didn’t take the easy path, he took the right path. The one that looks scary and that may go straight up the mountain rather than the well-worn path of switchbacks. Christ responded to evil itself by choosing the long game in defeating his enemy knowing full well that saying no at that moment would result in persecution, misunderstandings, and ultimately an ugly death as a criminal on a cross. And in this no, he said yes to each of us despite our persistent no to his offers and demands.

            And maybe because of how hard choosing to say yes to Christ makes our lives, he doesn’t really ask much of us to join his movement. Had he said yes, everything would have been given to us and we never value those things given to us as much as that for which we have to exert some effort. Growing up, my allowance never meant as much to me as the money I earned mowing lawns or shoveling snow. I was grateful for the allowance, for it granted me trips to the movies, copious amounts of candy and baseball cards, and some responsibility. But, the money I make from my own effort means so much more and I take better care of that which I struggle to achieve.

Paul tells the church in Rome that we all need to do something for salvation. It isn’t much, but it allows us to own the grace that is there for the asking. We have to believe in Christ and confess that belief. Period.

The order doesn’t matter because sometimes we call out and confess Christ before we fully believe. I think of the man who looks at Christ and says, “I believe, help my unbelief.” Sometimes belief leads to confession. Nor does it really matter how we cry out to Jesus. Maybe we confess our belief because of some miraculous event that clearly demonstrates God’s presence in our lives. Other times our confession is us crying out to Jesus in pain.

Belief is internal and personal which leads to righteousness. Confession is a public act because we speak out a need of Christ in our life and publicly inviting Christ into our lives is a salvific act.

Both belief and confession are universal. The requirements Paul set forth two thousand years ago are the same today. There are no qualifiers to these requirements. In fact, Paul specifically states, “There is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him.” Any requirements we think we have heard to be welcomed into the kingdom are man made and not really requirements at all. Any requirement to join the Body of Christ that excludes people goes directly against this passage. Believe and Confess. Period.

Confession and belief is so simple, yet so hard. Our minds get in the way and prevent our cloud our ability to truly believe in Christ while our culture prevents people from confessing Christ. We can believe and never confess that belief while we can also confess and never truly believe. Some people get stuck between the two. And that is where the church comes in.

That is why Christ didn’t take the easy road. He needed the church to be the living memory and testimony to who he is. He needed us to be the beautiful feet that bring the good news. Once we are part of the family, our job is far from over. We are called to seek others out and invite them into the fold. We are called to bring good news to the poor, the tired, the hungry, the oppressed, the prisoner, the sick, the outcast, the forgotten, the lonely, the empty, everyone who is crying out to Christ. (Play Video)


We, the church, are called to be the ones listening for people crying out to Jesus. When people call out to Jesus we are called to answer for Christ works through us to proclaim the Gospel. This Lent, instead of giving something up, let us instead work to be the light in a world of darkness. Let us be where people come to find grace and forgiveness in a harsh and uncaring world.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Transfiguring The World

Exodus 34:29-35
Luke 9:28-36
 “Transfiguring the World”
07 February 2106 St. Andrew’s Military Chapel Singapore

            Sometimes it’s hard to fully appreciate the tone and tenor of a story, especially when we’ve never experienced the exact thing someone is trying to explain. Something always gets lost in the telling of the story, in the translating of one’s vivid experience into words that the audience can fully grasp and comprehend. And I think that is something that we, as listeners of these two stories, struggle with. I would add, it is also something those that see Moses and Jesus struggle with as well and they are there when these two stories occur.

            I don’t know about everyone’s early Biblical formation. But, in my little corner of the world, which is to say the small town of Bluefield, WV and Westminster Presbyterian Church on the corner of Washington and Albemarle streets where one could see the Methodist and Baptist churches from the Presbyterian parking lot and a wonderful saint named Mrs. Walker let me know in my Sunday School and confirmation classes that to see God meant instant death. Yet, here we have two stories of people having encounters with God. Not exactly face to face, but personal encounters with the glory of God and they lived to tell the tale.

            I’ve never seen anyone go up a mountain, get lost in the clouds and then come down glowing in such a manner that they have to cover their face for weeks because of how bright their face is radiating. Nor have walked up on a mountain with my pastor and seen Elijah and Moses followed by God speaking from heaven telling me to listen to everything my pastor says. To be quite honest, if I were to experience either of those events, I might just run as far as I can as fast as I can out of fear. Perhaps God is protecting my fragile body by not revealing himself in that way to me. But, what I do know is that because I haven’t seen the Glory of God in the ways described in these two passages doesn’t mean I haven’t felt the radiant and comforting warmth of God standing right before me.

            The key to understanding these stories together isn’t to look at them and long for the day when we’ll be worthy enough to see God’s face. Christ’s birth, life, and death have assured us that we are worthy for a face-to-face meeting with God. Not that any of us are mentally or emotionally ready for that day, nor are we actively seeking that meeting, but we are promised that meeting because of Christ. We need to take away from these stories that God’s glory is seen as a reflection in the faces and actions of people we encounter every day. Some days people reflect God’s glory for us to see, some days we are the ones radiating with the reflection of God on our faces.

            What I find absolutely revolutionary about these two stories is that Moses doesn’t realize that he is so full of God’s glory that it is spilling out through his face in such a way that people literally cannot handle it. The disciples are so overwhelmed they can’t process what they saw and I think are actually a little worried to tell anyone for fear of being hauled off to a psychiatrist by people concerned for their mental health. And isn’t that what a life following Christ looks like, not knowing that people see Christ radiating from you while you worry that people think your actions following your call may get you locked up somehow?

            Thomas Currie, the former dean of a seminary in Charlotte, NC once wrote, “The unbearable brightness of Moses’s face is the residue of God’s steadfast love for Israel, his faithfulness to them in the face of betrayal and even death, and his gift to them of a dignity and honor they did not choose and would never have chosen for themselves.”[1] What a description of glory. Let me read that one more time.

            When we experience glory in that manner, we can’t help but be changed and change others. We can’t help but radiate the love of Christ not only as a reflection of what we’ve seen but it bursts forth from us because love like that cannot ever be contained. We are transformed from professing our faith to living our faith in a broken world that desperately needs that radiant glory to break forth in so many places.

            In November 2008, God’s Glory showed up on a Texas gridiron. But, because I’m not as good at telling this story, I’ll let one of the best sportswriters to ever grace the earth, Rick Reilly, tell the tale.

            “It was Grapevine Faith vs. Gainesville State School and everything about it was upside down. For instance, when Gainesville came out to take the field, the Faith fans made a 40-yard spirit line for them to run through. They even made a banner for players to crash through at the end.
           
It was rivers running uphill and cats petting dogs. More than 200 Faith fans sat on the Gainesville side and kept cheering the Gainesville players on—by name.”

            And even though Faith walloped them 33-14, the Gainesville kids were so happy that after the game they gave head coach Mark Williams a sideline squirt-bottle shower like he’d just won state.”

            But then you saw the 12 uniformed officers escorting the 14 Gainesville players off the field and two and two started to make four. They lined the players up in groups of five—handcuffs ready in their back pockets—and marched them to the team bus. That’s because Gainesville is a maximum-security correctional facility 75 miles north of Dallas.”
           
            Hogan had this idea. What if half our fans—for one night only—cheered for the other team? He sent out an email asking the Faithful to do just that. ‘Here’s the message I want you to send:’ Hogan wrote. ‘You are just as valuable as any other person on planet Earth.’

            After the game, both teams gathered in the middle of the field to pray and that’s when Isaiah surprised everybody by asking to lead. ‘We had no idea what the kid was going to say,’ remembers Coach Hogan. But Isaiah said this: ‘Lord, I don’t know how this happened, so I don’t know how to say thank you , but I never would’ve known there was so many people in the world that cared about us.’

            The Gainesville coach saw Hogan, grabbed him hard by the shoulders and said, ‘You’ll never know what your people did for these kids tonight. You never, ever know.”

            Transfiguration, plain and simple. On a football field in Texas. Elijah, Moses, and Jesus were on that field smiling, beaming with pride because for a moment, some disciples got it and without knowing it radiated the Glory of God in the way and place it was intended. And God said, “These are my children, my chosen; listen to them.”



[1] Thomas Currie, “Theological Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word Year C Vol 1, “Transfiguration Sunday,” 438.