Sermon #14 @ St. Paris UMC (9.27.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Isaiah 6:1-8 and Psalm 98

Title: “Cultivating Fruitfulness – Part 2: Passionate Worship”

Date: Sept. 27, 2009


Internet Link for primary scripture texts used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah%206:1-8&version=NIV

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%2098&version=KJV


When it comes to Passionate Worship, the good news is we’re not starting from scratch.
As a matter of fact, that’s true for all of the “Five Practices of Fruit-Bearing Congregations” that we are looking at during this sermon series.
We are already doing all these things in some form or fashion at Saint Paris United Methodist Church. Indeed, you have been doing them for decades. So why bother with this sermon series, and all these daily readings in the “Cultivating Fruitfulness” books? What’s the point? Why not just continue with “church as usual?”
Well, the thing is, there’s this Jesus fellow. He is the One who persistently calls his disciples (that’s you and me) to deny ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow Him. And Jesus wants us to bear LOTS of fruit. In John 15, the Lord said:
“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. … No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will be bear much fruit … This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”
Worship and – in particular – passionate worship is one of the ways we “remain” in Christ.
What are some of the times when you have felt especially close to God during worship?

Passionate Worship can come to us in the Sacraments, those special ways in which Jesus showed us – using the things of this world, things like bread and wine, things like water -- that He will be with us always, until the end of the age. What is it they say about the sacraments, of which we have two in the United Methodist Church – Holy Communion and Baptism? They are outward signs of an inward grace.
Have you ever experienced Passionate Worship as we share together in the Lord’s Supper?
Do you know that as we partake of the elements, we are receiving the very life of Christ – the One who looked down from the cross and said, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they are doing.” When we smell the gift of bread and the sweet fragrance of the grape juice, does it occur to us that through faith we are assured of a heavenly banquet yet to come?
And what about those wonderful days of baptism – be they for a young child, or a person well along in years – each being claimed as God’s very own, as amazing grace is poured into their lives.
Passionate Worship can occur in times of great joy and excitement, such as a wedding, or at a Christmas Eve Candlelight Service, or in times when the music is especially joyful and uplifting, or when the children come forward to hear about God’s love – some of them, perhaps, for the very first time.
Passionate Worship also can occur in times of overwhelming grief and sorrow, such as at a funeral service, where perhaps the message of resurrection is followed by the singing of “I Can Only Imagine.” How does the chorus go?

Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in your presence or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine . . .

Passionate Worship can occur when our hearts are broken, or when we’re ready to trust in Him absolutely – and on occasion those two things occur at the same time.

I know a church where we used to have a healing service once or twice a year. People were invited to come forward if they wished to be anointed with oil and receive prayers for healing and the laying on of hands. On one occasion, a man came forward who had been carrying a heavy load of grief over the death of his father. It had darkened every area of his life for more than a year.
Something happened to him that day. Not only did God free him of the despair that engulfed him, but he became energized with a restored faith and wholeness that has allowed him to become a leader in mission and service in the name of Jesus.
Passionate Worship . . . there isn’t anything God can’t do when we come together in Christ.
He can restore us and cleanse us and give us a brand new beginning, no matter what we may be going through. He can give new meaning and purpose to our lives when we experience his presence in a deep and powerful way.
Isn’t that what happened to Isaiah in the dramatic story of our first lesson today? Suddenly, mysteriously, Isaiah receives a stunning gift, when he is granted a vision of being in the very presence of God in the Temple in Jerusalem – within the Holy of Holies.
In some ways, it is a terrifying vision because Isaiah, like all of us, knows deep-down of his weakness and his failings. He is a sinner, like all of us – “a man of unclean lips” – and he knows that he will surely die, for he is not worthy to see the King of all Creation, the Lord Almighty.
But God has another plan for Isaiah – a plan for life, not for death. And to Isaiah’s surprise and amazement, one of these strange winged creatures – one of the seraphim – flies over to Isaiah with a live coal which he had taken from the holy altar, and he touches it to Isaiah’s lips.
And like a refining fire, the touch of the burning coal removes Isaiah’s burden of guilt, and cleanses him from the sin that would otherwise separate him from God. In some ways, this whole scene foreshadows what God will later do for all of us when he sends Jesus into the world to bring the hope of salvation to everyone.
Having been touched by God in this extraordinary fashion, Isaiah then hears the Lord calling him into service as a prophet. Surrounded by God’s glory in the Holy Temple, Isaiah’s response is joyously unrestrained and enthusiastic:
“Here am I. Send me!”

John Wesley felt that same response May 24, 1738. As you may know, John Wesley was the founder of the Methodist movement which brought about a tremendous revival of faith in England, later spreading to America in the 18th century.
But Wesley was a deeply discouraged man in the spring of 1738. Though committed to serving God, he had failed in some of his missionary efforts, and his own personal connection with God had grown dim. All that changed on an evening in May of 1738, when Wesley attended a worship service on Aldersgate Street in London which moved him deeply. He later gave this account in his journal:
“About a quarter before nine, while the leader was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.” (1)

Sometimes tears come with passionate worship. Sometimes they are tears of joy and thanksgiving. I’ve heard people express their thanksgiving in the middle of a church service with a testimony about how God has touched their life in the past week.
Sometimes they are tears of sorrow, as when a young person whose marriage is falling apart comes to the altar rail to pray, searching for light in the midst of darkness, searching for hope to carry on in a world that seems filled with pain.
As singer-songwriter Leonard Cohen once put it in a song called Suzanne, perhaps its true: “Only drowning men” can see Jesus.
Passionate Worship . . . the possibilities are endless, both in the things we are already doing, and the things we could be doing. Wherever we will give Him an opening, God is more than ready to come and be with us in our worship. He’s always knocking on the door of our hearts, both as individuals, and as a congregation.
Pride doesn’t want to let Him come in.
Pride says, ‘I’m doing just fine by myself, thanks anyway, God.’
A friend from my newspaper days once put it this way: “Religion has its own hassles, but if you don’t go to church somewhere, your life fills up with everything else, and the next thing you know you’ve stopped trying to think about God. Then push comes to shove, and you’re out there all lonely and spiritually empty, and you’re ashamed and too proud to turn to God because you waited until you were in trouble.”
Humility leads to Passionate Worship.
Humility says, Jesus, I love you and I need you. Apart from you, I can do nothing. Left to my own devices, I will always be a man – or a woman – of unclean lips. Only You can set me free.

What has the power to move you and touch your soul as you worship on Sunday, or on other occasions?
You know worship doesn’t just happen on Sunday mornings, and it doesn’t happen exclusively in church buildings.
For instance, tonight we’re concluding our church picnic down at the park with a thing called “vespers” – which is a fancy word for a time of prayer and praise at the end of a day. It is another chance for us to draw close to and experience the presence and power of the Living God. God will be there. He’s had it on his appointment calendar for weeks.

In closing, I’d like to mention a story about another Englishman, this one from our own time, a fellow by the name of Matt Redman. In a working class town in the outskirts of London, back about 15 years ago, Matt was a musician who was leading a cutting edge contemporary worship service at an evangelistic outreach ministry. They had all the bells and whistles – a full band, top-notch sound equipment, and a stream of songs that seemed tailor-made to help people “get down to business with God.” But something was missing.
Here’s how Redman’s pastor, Mike Pilavachi, later put it:
“We had forgotten that we are ALL the performers of worship and that God is the audience . . . We were challenged to ask ourselves individually, “When I come through the door of the church, what am I bringing as my contribution to worship?’ The truth came to us: worship is not a spectator sport, it is not a product molded by the taste of consumers. It is not about what we can get out of it. It is all about God.” (2)
The church made some drastic changes. For a time, they even got rid of the band and fired Redman!
“After a while,” Pilavachi writes, “we began to have some very sweet times of worship. We all began to bring our prayers, our readings, our prophecies, our thanksgiving, our praises and our songs. Someone would start a song a cappella and we would all join in. Then someone else would take it on to another song. The excitement came back. We were not having Church; we were once again meeting with God. . . . We worshiped from the heart.” (3)
Having regained their focus, they brought the band back, and Matt Redman began to sing the song he had written out of the whole experience. You might have heard of it, because it has since become very well known. It’s called “The Heart of Worship,” and these are the words of the chorus:

I’m coming back to the heart of worship,
And it’s all about You,
All about You, Jesus.
I’m sorry, Lord, for the thing I’ve made it,
When it’s all about You.
All about You, Jesus.

In the end, Passionate Worship is always all about Jesus.

You just never know when Passionate Worship might happen.
As Margaret Becker once said: “He needs no candles, no special music. He needs only a heart that is ready for Him.”
Are your hearts ready for him?

May His name be ever praised. Amen.

______________________________________

1. Ignatius, verbum Dei, “May 24, 1738 – What Happened at Aldersgate?” May 25, 2006.
2. Paul Martin, “When the Music Fades: The Eternal Truth Behind “The Heart of Worship,” www.higherpraise.com
3. Ibid.

Sermon #13 @ St. Paris UMC (9.20.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Luke 7:36-47

Title: “Cultivating Fruitfulness, Part 1: RADICAL HOSPITALITY”

Date: Sept. 20, 2009 (16th Sunday after Pentecost)

Internet Link for primary scripture text used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%207:36-47&version=NIV

I trust most of you have been reading the daily devotions in Cultivating Fruitfulness.
Frankly, I’ve been enjoying them more than I expected. They are short, well-written, biblically-based, and have been genuinely helpful in providing a deeper understanding of what “Radical Hospitality” is all about.
That one we read for Wednesday – Day 4 -- grabbed me, in particular.
It was about the pastor who was working in a hospital training program, and who was called in to support an older man whose wife had been brought to the hospital by ambulance. Soon, a doctor told the man his wife had died, leaving him stunned with grief.
The poor man had no pastor of his own – no church connection of any kind. His family members were scattered across the country. He was about as alone as could be as he left the hospital that day, to cope with his wife’s death all on his own.
Bishop Robert Schnase, the author of “Cultivating Fruitfulness,” notes that “life is not meant to be lived that way. God intends for people to live their lives interlaced by the grace of God with others, to know the gift and task of community from birth to death, to have faith to sustain them through times of joy and periods of desperate agony.” (1)
Schnase adds: “Practicing hospitality is not inviting people to join a club in order to enhance revenue through dues. We invite people into that mysteriously sustaining community that finds its purpose in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.” (2)
Let me repeat that last statement: “We invite people into that mysteriously sustaining community that finds its purpose in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”
That’s who we are. That’s what we are called to be. We are the church!
And what we have received through God’s amazing grace is simply too good to keep to ourselves. We must open our doors, and extend the invitation to experience God’s love and mercy to everyone. Jesus himself calls us to radical hospitality, for it is the way he lived during his earthly walk. It is the way the Holy Spirit beckons our hearts to follow.
As a newcomer to Saint Paris United Methodist Church, I have seen and appreciated all that you are already doing in the area of hospitality. The Fellowship Time before worship is a wonderful way of welcoming people on a Sunday morning. The Block Party, which I’ve heard about, has been a meaningful outreach to the community. The rocking chair in the back of the sanctuary affirms the message that mothers with young children are always welcome in this place. (And as pastor, I want to go on record that the sound of a crying baby on Sunday morning is not a problem at all – it is something to be cherished.)
Our bulletin reminds us weekly that this is a “Come as you are church,” as it should be, for God loves us just the way we are. Not only are casual clothes OK, but so are people who may not look like us . . . people with tattoos and piercings, people in tattered clothes, people for whom the thought of stepping inside a church may be a scary thing.
I think radical hospitality means we operate on the assumption that each new person who comes through our doors, whether a bank president or an outlaw biker, deserves to be treated with love and respect – indeed, treated as an honored guest as if Jesus himself were the one being received.
Yes, we are already doing some things well in the church when it comes to Radical Hospitality, and the other areas we’ll be looking at in the coming weeks, such as Passionate Worship, Intentional Faith Development, Risk-Taking Mission and Service, and Extravagant Generosity. Those are the five practices of fruitful congregations. And these are practices we must continue to work on, if we are to fulfill our calling as the Church of Jesus Christ.
Maybe you’re thinking: “But we’ve been doing those kinds of things for years, in one way or another. Why do we need to put so much emphasis on all that now? Why can’t we just do our usual “church thing” and go home and get on with our lives?
Well, the thing is, we never outgrow the need to work on – and improve -- the basics. Bishop Schnase gives a wonderful example of this, when he writes:
“When elementary-age Little League baseball players practice their sport, they practice batting, catching pop-ups, scooping up ground balls. When professional Major League players practice – adults at the height of their abilities – what do they do? They practice batting, catching pop-ups, scooping up ground balls. Players at all stages and abilities repeat and deepen and improve upon the same basic practices. The same is true for congregations.” (3)
And Schnase adds: “The greatest difference between stagnant and declining congregations and those that are continually growing is that in fruitful congregations, the pastor and staff are constantly learning, the leaders and volunteers are constantly learning, and even the members and guests are practicing and improving the basic elements of ministry.” (4)
Now it’s not that hard to practice hospitality, but the call to “Radical Hospitality” suggests we go the extra mile to welcome people into the community of faith – in whatever form or fashion it may take. This is where we may start to quietly cringe a little bit on the inside.
Because sometimes, in our humanness, we struggle with the notion that the mission of making disciples for Christ takes precedence over our own comfort and convenience.
Nevertheless, it is true.
Today’s gospel lesson shows us two extremes concerning the all-important matter of hospitality. Let’s set the scene.
A Pharisee named Simon – one of those religious leaders who were always challenging and testing Jesus, because they saw him as a threat – invites the Master to have dinner with him at his house. So far, so good – it seems like the religious man is offering some hospitality to Jesus. But is he really?
For as the story unfolds, one of the women in town who had kind of an unsavory reputation got wind that Jesus was at the Pharisee’s house, and she decided she had to do something special to show her love for the Lord. Clearly, she was one of those sinners that the Pharisees always wanted to keep at arms length – but that Jesus seemed more than willing to associate with.
So this unnamed woman boldly entered Simon’s house and then does an amazing thing. She washed the Lord’s feet with her tears, and wiped them with her hair, and she kissed his feet, and then anointed them with a jar of expensive perfume.
Simon was appalled. If Jesus was such a big-deal prophet, he thought to himself, surely he would never allow this tramp to touch him in this way. But Jesus, knowing what Simon is thinking, offers a parable to illuminate matters. He tells the story about the two men who have their debts cancelled, and how one of them has a debt that is 10 times greater than the other.
“Now which of them will love him more?” Jesus asks Simon.
The Pharisee, perhaps warily, not knowing where Jesus was going with this, replied: “I suppose the one who has the bigger debt cancelled.” And that, of course, was the right answer.
Then Jesus speaks about matters of hospitality – and radical hospitality.
“Do you see this woman?” Jesus asks, knowing full well Simon had been upset about her presence. Jesus notes that Simon has failed to show him even the basic hospitality that guests had a right to expect in ancient times.
Simon did not give Jesus any water for the cleansing of his feet after a day out on the hot, dirty roads of Palestine. He did not give Jesus a welcoming kiss to show his friendship, nor did Simon anoint Jesus’ head with oil. In short, Simon had not done much of anything to make Jesus feel special or welcome in his home.
On the other hand, the woman with the “bad rep” was so moved by the presence of Jesus, that her own tears bathed his feet, and in the deepest humility, she showed her love by using her hair to wipe those feet clean. She humbled herself further to kiss those feet in what must have been both reverence and awe, and finally she anointed the feet of the Master with perfume.
If that isn’t radical hospitality, I don’t know what is. And this woman wasn’t even the hostess for this dinner party – she just came on in because she knew Jesus was there.
With such an attitude as this, one that clearly demonstrates her profound love for Jesus, the woman’s many sins have been forgiven, Jesus tells Simon.

Now today, I don’t think we are necessarily called to wash, dry, kiss and perfume the feet of people we want to reach out to in the name of Jesus. But there are no shortage of ways and means that we can use to share the love of Christ with people who don’t know the Lord – and may never know Him if we don’t stir ourselves . . . if we don’t stretch ourselves.
Maybe some of you already have ideas percolating for how we might go a little deeper as a church in demonstrating the Radical Hospitality that is so pleasing in God’s sight. I hope you do – or soon will.
Here’s one for starters. What if we invited the whole town to come and take part in our Christmas Eve service at the United Methodist Church this year? I’ve heard there were only 50 to 75 people here on Christmas Eve last year. I know we’ve got room for a lot more people than that. I’ve also been told we’re the only church in town that has worship on Christmas Eve.
What if we made a concerted effort to reach out to people, to invite people, to come and spend part of that holy night with us – and with Jesus -- here in God’s house?
Down the road, we’re going to be forming some small groups to focus on each of these five Fruit-Bearing Practices – such as Radical Hospitality, Passionate Worship, and all the others. My prayer is that this will prove to be a great adventure for all of us as we see where God may be leading us a group of disciples here in Saint Paris!
I want to tell a short story from one of my own memories of being touched by “Radical Hospitality.” It comes from a time several years ago when I visited the Philippines for a couple weeks, along with a group of five other people from United Theological Seminary in Dayton. (I mentioned this last month during one of the Sunday School sessions that Becky Black and Dolly Pond were leading, and today I want to share it with all of you.)
It was Jan. 18, 1996, and the sun was broiling hot. We were staying for a few days in a fishing village near the shore of the Philippine Sea. Later in the afternoon, we walked over to be with some of our poor neighbors who were living in the shanties. We visited the homes of a couple families who had invited us, and their hospitality was so overwhelming it simply melted our hearts.
These people – who truly had nothing in the way of material possessions – had spent their precious pesos to buy Coca Cola and crackers to serve us, despite our pleas that it was not necessary. Their hospitality was radical indeed! They were Christians, and they were a people after God’s own heart.
At the second home we went to, they didn’t have any electricity, and light was provided by a couple small lamps, burning fuel. It was very touching and heartwarming to be with these people, who described their lives as being “hard but happy.” Later, we would sing some songs and join together for Bible Study with our new friends. I remember telling them that we Americans could learn much about hospitality from them.”
In closing, I call to your attention the words of Jesus in the Parable of the Wedding Banquet. This is in Matthew 22, where the Lord tells of a king who is frustrated that the guests invited to his son’s wedding have all sent in their RSVPs – and are refusing to come! A sumptuous feast had been planned and everything was ready, but those on the guest list couldn’t have cared less.
As a result, the king is ready to try some radical hospitality. As Jesus continues the story, the king orders his servants to “go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.” So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, both good and bad, and the wedding hall was filled with guests.” (Matt. 22:9-10)
You know what that sounds like to me?
That sounds a lot like “Sharing the Love of Jesus Christ in the Community.”
With God’s help, may we go and do likewise.
Amen.
______________________________________

1. Robert Schnase, “Cultivating Fruitfulness: Five Weeks of Prayer and Practice for Congregations,” pp. 15-16, Abingdon Press, Nashville, 2008.
2. Ibid.
3. Robert Schnase, “Five Practices – Radical Hospitality,” Abingdon Press, Nashville, 2008.
4. Ibid.

Sermon #12 @ St. Paris UMC (9.13.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: “Bread for the Journey”

Title: “Luke 24:13-35”

Date: Sept. 13, 2009 (15th Sunday in Easter)

A meditation on the gospel, leading into Holy Communion . . .

Internet Link for primary scripture text used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2024:13-35&version=NIV

You may not have realized it was Easter morning when you crawled out of bed today.
But if that’s the case, you’re in pretty good company.
Mary Magdalene and Simon Peter didn’t realize it either, on that very first Easter Sunday.
Nor did those disciples who were walking along the path to Emmaus later on.
For all of them, as the day dawned, their hearts were filled with grief, continuing sorrow and confusion – for their beloved Master lay dead in a tomb.
What they didn’t know – and what we sometimes forget – is that the tomb is now empty.
Christ is risen -- Alleluia! And because He arose, every morning is Easter morning from now on. Every Sunday is – in fact – a “little Easter.” We gather here on the first day of the week to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ.
Though the leaves will be soon be turning, our hearts are filled with springtime as we ponder the Empty Tomb – and all that it promises.
Who knows? If we close our eyes . . . if we try really hard . . . then maybe – just maybe:
We can still imagine the cool touch of the morning dew in that garden, so close to Calvary.
We can still visualize the strange sight of the grave cloth, neatly folded in that tomb.
We can still picture the breathless excitement of Mary Magdalene, running to tell Peter and John: “I have seen the Lord!”
The tremendous thing about being a Christian – though we sometimes fail to focus on this great truth – is this: Every day of the year is part of the Easter Season.
Easter isn’t a one-shot deal.
Easter IS the deal.
As the Apostle Paul wrote: “if for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.” (1 Cor.15:19)
In reality, the possibilities for new life surround us always – if we have eyes to see them.
Jesus said “I am the Resurrection.”
That’s not past-tense. That’s the Living God, present-tense in our lives today. And if we hold on to that, there’s no reason for any of us to BE tense.
You see, we’ve got Jesus! . . . We’ve got everything we need.
The promise of eternal life is more than a promise for those who put their faith in Christ. It is a blessed assurance.
We are an Easter people – just like those disciples who trekked to a town called Emmaus with a peculiar stranger, on that first Easter Sunday. Before day’s end, they, too, would be running breathlessly back to Jerusalem with a stunning message for their brothers – just like Mary Magdalene a few hours before.
That’s how Resurrection affects us, when it becomes real. When we experience the truth – that Jesus really is alive, right here, and right now. It electrifies us. It takes our breath away. And we can’t wait to tell about it.
Those two disciples, Cleopas and the other fellow, were at the end of their rope. Jesus, the one they hoped was the Messiah – God’s hand-picked Savior for Israel – was dead and buried.
The one they “hoped” was the Messiah – as in past-tense.
That was all over now. Their hope was gone.
They couldn’t have been more dejected when the stranger came along and joined them in their journey.
But after the two disciples poured out their sorrow to this stranger, he began to speak.
He had kind of an odd way of ingratiating himself to them, for what is the first thing out of his mouth? It is this:
“How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!”
Basically, he calls them blockheads! Because God has been constantly trying to get their attention, constantly trying to show them the way that leads to salvation and eternal life, and they have failed to grasp it.
Before we get too smug about all this . . . before we make fun of Cleopas and his friend, who couldn’t even recognize Jesus as he walked beside them, we need to remember: That’s us out there on that road, too. That’s you and me making our way on the journey each day – with Jesus.
Do we recognize this Risen Christ in our midst when we’re stuck in line at the bank, and we’re running late for a doctor’s appointment?
Do we sense the Risen Christ at our side when we’re at the Job and Family Center, trying to get our unemployment benefits . . . or get our food stamps straightened out?
Do we perceive Jesus, the Living God, praying for us at the funeral home, as we cry over our fallen loved ones? Do we feel Him put his arm around us? Do we hear the One who wept outside the tomb of Lazarus whispering to us: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)
If we don’t recognize him, if we don’t sense his presence, if we don’t hear his comforting shepherd’s voice, it could be we have forgotten to invite him into our lives.
Whatever else we say about Cleopas and his unnamed cohort on the road to Emmaus, they knew there was something special – even wonderful – about this stranger who walked with them. They didn’t want it to end.
Luke says they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.”
In other words, they invited Jesus to stay with them, and be their companion.
The invitation is the key. Jesus doesn’t force his way into anyone’s life.
Will you invite Jesus to be your companion in the journey of life?
The literal meaning of the word companion is “with bread.” A companion is someone we break bread with.
We can all be companions with Christ – and He with us – in the breaking of the bread.
And if we take in this bread of life – through faith – we will never go hungry again. To put it another way, we will never be without life again, for our faith in Christ brings us to eternal life in His company – both now and forevermore.
In the gospel of John, Jesus declared: “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty.” (John 6:35)
We know that death does not have the final word.
And as Christian writer and historian Martin Marty puts it, “That is what Easter is all about, that love is stronger than death, that the power of God is greater than the power of forces that would thwart life.” (1)
“The stranger is still with us,” Marty adds. “If we say we had hoped He would redeem us, we can change that now to say that hope is present among us and we, too, can know Him in the breaking of the bread.” (2)
Thanks be to God!
______________________________________
1. Martin Marty, “Easter on the Road,” March 31, 1991, http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/Marty_3424.htm
2. Ibid.

Sermon #11@ St. Paris UMC (9.6.09)

Pastor Dave Kepple

Text: Mark 7:24-37

Title: “Crumbs From the Table”

Date: Sept. 6, 2009 (14th Sunday after Pentecost)

Internet Link for primary scripture text used in this sermon:

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark%207:24-37&version=NIV

We’ve been hearing a lot about health care lately.
There are many strong opinions about the pros and cons of the proposals coming out of Washington. There have been and will be impassioned debates, and people of good faith can agree to disagree on these matters.
If I’m not mistaken, that’s the American way.
In fact, I’ll go a step further and say that even though there are many things that we as Christians may not agree about, there is much more that brings us together as one people. Above all, we are one in the Spirit, and we are one in the Lord – and that is something special, in a world that is given over to division and strife.
Even as the health care debate unfolds, we continue to see and hear reports about the H1N1 virus – or “swine flu” as it’s also known. We wait and watch nervously, especially as we send our children and grandchildren off to begin a new school year.
Meanwhile, the day-to-day challenges of maintaining health and wholeness touch all of our lives, and there is seldom any let-up.
Our church’s prayer chain has been busily attesting to this. In the past week alone, we have had prayer requests for at least four persons with cancer, including a 4-year-old boy. In his case, the request was for “healing this side of heaven,” which is always our hope – though it doesn’t always work out that way.
We also had a sad request Friday for a teen-ager named Josie, who remains hospitalized after a horrendous beating by an ex-boyfriend. She is experiencing paralysis. We are reminded again – we live in a broken world.
But friends, there is One who has all power.
He is the source of life – both in the here and now, and in the eternity that lies just beyond.
He is the source of all health – in body, mind and spirit.
He is the source of the boundless hope – and the endless love – that we can experience in our hearts through faith.
His name is Jesus Christ, and He is the Master Physician. And he calls us to be “physician’s assistants” – through our prayers, and our actions.
We see Jesus the healer at work in both parts of today’s gospel lesson.
In the first part, Jesus and his disciples have left their home base in Galilee, and headed north, going near the Phoenician city of Tyre on the Mediterranean coast. Jesus already had done a lot to attract attention back home – whether he wanted it or not. You may remember from last week some Pharisees and teachers of the law had even come from Jerusalem to check him out as word of his teaching and healing spread.
It could be Jesus wanted a chance for him and the disciples to get off by themselves for a while – get a break from the crowds, and recharge their batteries. Mark tells us in v. 24 he found a house to stay at, and he didn’t want anyone to know it. It sounds like he really needed that time apart. But it wasn’t to be. Soon the community was abuzz about the presence of the Jewish teacher from Galilee.
Keep in mind, Jesus and the disciples were on foreign turf. Tyre and the region around it are part of the modern-day nation of Lebanon, and for Jesus and his cohorts, this was definitely a place to be wary. This was pagan country – populated by Gentiles. In other words, these were people who were outsiders – they were not part of God’s covenant relationship with the children of Abraham. As a matter of fact, faithful Jews considered it a point of decency not to associate with Gentiles. (Sort of makes you wonder why Jesus chose Tyre for this getaway trip.)
Even Jesus appears uncomfortable or annoyed – at least at first – when he is approached by one of these Gentiles. To make matters worse, it’s a woman. She was breaking a lot of cultural taboos by approaching Jesus, but she didn’t care. Somehow she had a sense of who Jesus was – and what he could do – and her circumstances were dire.
I’m sure many of you who are mothers can relate. There was something desperately wrong with her little girl. We are told the child was possessed by an evil spirit, and whatever form it takes, evil always seeks to destroy. And in her great need, this mother came and fell at the feet of Jesus. She begged him to do something to drive the presence of evil out of her daughter.
And what a response she gets.
“First let the children eat all they want,” Jesus told her, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to their dogs.”
Now, this is not exactly the kind of thing we’re used to hearing from Jesus, because frankly the Lord seems to be insulting this woman – because of her Gentile background. When Jesus speaks of letting “the children” eat all they want, he is actually using children as a metaphor for the people of Israel – God’s chosen ones – the focal point of his mission.
Jesus himself is the bread – the sustainer of life – and guess what? He is saying the Canaanites and all the other pagans are no better than a bunch of dogs. Trust me when I say, this was not intended as a compliment.
But the woman is undaunted. If anything, her resolve is steeled because she absolutely believes this man can save her little girl. Humbled by her fears for her daughter, she takes no umbrage at the seemingly harsh words of Jesus. Rather, she further demonstrates her humility – and her faith – by countering: “Yes, Lord, but even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
And though Jesus knew he was “sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24), there was something about this woman’s passion that touched him deeply.
In Matthew’s account of this same story, Jesus responds: “Woman, you have great faith! Your request is granted.” And her daughter was healed instantly.
The Canaanite woman returned home and found her child well, just as Jesus had said.
And you know what? Like salvation itself, this healing was a gift of pure grace, a beautiful byproduct of faith. The Son of God looked beyond the cultural and religious divides of his time to extend the touch of mercy.
Soon, Jesus and his band of brothers were on the move again – going back to the south and around the Sea of Galilee into another pagan territory – the region of the Decapolis (or the 10 cities).
Once again, health care was on the agenda. Some people brought a man who was deaf and could hardly talk to Jesus. They begged Jesus to place his hand on the man. They really believed “the touch of the Master’s hand” could make all the difference.
Jesus led the man away from the crowd, and attended to him in a way that seems strange to us – the fingers in the ears, the spitting, and touching of the man’s tongue. But it is that final part of the healing that gets my attention. Mark says Jesus looked up to heaven. In other words, he was looking to his Father.
And then he gave a deep sigh – which maybe, in some way, reflects the deep compassion and desire to heal that Jesus always feels for those who are suffering. Finally, he declares emphatically, “Ephphatha!” – an Aramaic word which means, “Be opened!” And with the power of Christ at work in his life, his ears were “opened,” and his tongue was loosened, and he began to speak plainly.
Poor fellow. Who knows how long he has been unable to speak? And yet the first thing Jesus says is don’t tell anyone. That hardly seems fair! In fact, Jesus told them all to keep quiet about what he had done – but it was like trying to put out a fire with gasoline. “The more he did so, the more they kept talking about it.”
You see, that’s the way it is when Jesus touches our lives.
If we’ve been down and out.
If we’ve been in that place where there just doesn’t seem to be any hope.
If we’ve lost faith – or maybe we never had it in the first place.
If we’ve been hurt or disappointed time after time after time . . . by people, in general – or maybe by our own family – or maybe even by the church.
And then – in the midst of the darkness – Jesus touches our lives . . . and things begin to change. Sometimes quickly. Sometimes slowly. And what a relief it is when the healing touch of Christ comes into our hearts.
Just like that man who was rescued by Jesus, we’re going to want to tell others about it!
We’re going to want to let our light shine before others, so they may know, too, that our God of Love is right here, in our lives, today.
Jesus has come to our town, too. He’s come to Saint Paris, and to Urbana, and to Piqua, and to Tipp City, and all kinds of places.
And Jesus still comes to bring healing.
He comes to bring hope.
He comes to bring life – new life – abundant life – eternal life.
And you know what? I don’t think Jesus minds us talking about it.
I think on this side of the Resurrection, we’re supposed to share the good news.
We’re supposed to “share the love of Jesus Christ in the community” – and beyond.
What was it the Lord told his disciples in the first chapter of Acts – his final words before he ascended to Heaven?
He told them to get ready for a power surge.
It’s right there, in Acts 1:8 – Jesus says: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”
But I digress. Forgive me – sometimes I get kind of excited about what the Lord’s done in my own life, and some of the healing I’ve experienced. There are many types of healing that are available to all of us yet today, through the power of the Living God.
So what are we to do with all this? What’s the “take-away” from these stories in Mark 7?
Maybe it’s as simple as – what was that word again? Ephphatha! Be opened!
On Friday I got something in the mail from Vectren Energy. As I was looking it over, I read a sentence at the bottom of the page where it said that Vectren – and here I’m quoting – “delivers not just power but possibilities” to their customers.
Now I don’t tell you this to put in a plug for the gas company.
But I think in there somewhere – along with good news of Mark’s gospel – is a message that God has for us today . . . a message that God wants our hearts and minds to be opened to – and that is this:
Jesus Christ delivers not just power but possibilities – to you, and to me, and to anyone who comes looking for him.
And you know what’s even better? Because God loves us so very much, we don’t even have to wait until we’re ready to go looking for Christ. Because the Son of God is already looking for us. He’s looking for the lost sheep of Israel. He wants to fill our lives with His power, and free us from ourselves. He wants us to experience the new possibilities that will be opened when we come seeking crumbs from the table.
We are called to receive these gifts – the gifts of:
More love . . .
More power.
More of Christ in our lives.
Let’s not let any false pride keep us from claiming these gifts right now.
In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.