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First Congregational Church
May 10, 2015 Mothers Day, 6th Sunday after Easter John 15:9-17 “How Do We Love When We Don’t Like?” Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching A young man agreed to baby-sit one night so a single mother could have an evening out. At bedtime he sent the youngsters upstairs to bed and settled down to watch football. One child kept creeping down the stairs, but the young man kept sending him back to bed. At 9:00 the doorbell rang, it was the next-door neighbor, Mrs. Brown, asking whether her son was there. The young man brusquely replied, “No." Just then a little head appeared over the banister and shouted, "I'm here, Mom, but he won't let me go home!” Why are computers so smart? They listen to their motherboards. The Sunday school teacher asked the student, “Tell me, Johnny. Do you say prayers before eating?” Johnny replies, “No, ma’am, I don’t have to. My mom’s a good cook.” Our scripture passage today is actually part B to last week’s part A, Jesus the vine and we the branches. It takes place in the middle of the after communion conversation that takes place on Jesus’ last night with the disciples. Before Robin comes up to read it, I thought I’d prick your ears with this little version. 9 “As the Father has liked me, so have I liked you. Now remain in my like. 10 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my like, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his like. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Like each other as I have liked you. 13 Greater like has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command. 15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. 17 This is my command: Like each other. John 15:9-17 NIV 9 “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command. 15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. 16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you. 17 This is my command: Love each other. Thank you, Robin. I like the wording choice they used in creating the New International Version, especially when it comes to the last verse for this morning. In other versions, it may say “Love one another,” which can have sort of nebulous, anonymous meaning. It’s much harder to hedge around “Love each other.” Twenty years ago, I might not have liked that version nearly as much. For those who don’t really know, my mother and I have never had the “best friend” sort of relationship that I know many of others have. Now that more history is being revealed, I am understanding better why mom and I were more of acquaintances than related - except when I hear something she said come out of my mouth. I don’t ever tell this truth for the purpose of getting sympathy, but so that others can understand that I get it that not all families are perfect. It wasn’t long after I came here that I realized I had to reconcile my near hatred for my mother and this calling to be a pastor. I needed to learn how to put the fun back in dysfunction - at least for me. It was easier to love people I didn’t know - complete strangers even - people across the world I didn’t even know existed - than to love my mom. And I will always be grateful to Marvelee Kneisel for making me see that truth. While this may seem to be a lot about me and my mother, we all have people in our lives that are harder to love than others. Depending on what can cause our blood to boil, there are some that will openly say, “I hate so and so.” “I have no love for that person.” How can we possibly reconcile such intense feelings with Jesus’ command - yes, command - to “Love each other?” It goes back to the vine and branches talked about in the passage right before this one. “As the Father has loved me” - as God has loved Christ - “so I have loved you.” - so Christ has loved us - enough to put down his life for ours. Those of us who realize the gift of Christ’s love realize that he doesn’t love without God’s love. So the very first thing we have to remember is that we don’t do this sort of loving without God, Christ and the Holy Spirit. It’s also helpful to realize that, within this passage, before Jesus tells us to love anybody else, he says, “Now remain in my love.” It’s our relationship to God that allows us to carry out this command to love each other - our grounding in God’s love, our connection to Christ’s vine that makes it even possible. While the soldiers stood at attention during a parade, a private waved to someone in the audience. "Jones, never do that again!" the drill instructor whispered. But a few minutes later, the soldier waved a second time. Back in the barracks after the parade, the DI stormed in and barked for Jones to come front and enter. "Son, you knew I was going to see you," he screamed. "You knew it was wrong. Aren't you afraid of me?" "Yes, sir!" replied Jones. "But you don't know my mother!" As was the case last week, our passage tells us that God chose us and appointed us so that we might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last - that whatever we ask in Christ’s name, God will give us. Most surely by God’s grace, I realized that I could “love” someone by praying for them - things that could be real and even beneficial to the one that was hard to love. So I prayed that so and so would get a good night’s sleep. Sleep is good. Everyone needs good sleep. I could pray that prayer for that hard to love person with an honest heart, and it didn’t matter how much or little I liked him or her. I prayed that my hard-to-love person would have a good day. It’s not so emotional as “make me love my hard-to-love person, but it was/could still (be) heart-felt. I prayed that any pain or difficulties the hard-to-love person had would heal and get better. Basically, the prayers were: whatever I could pray for a complete stranger, I could pray for my person-of-thorns. It wasn’t long and I realized that my anger toward the person with whom I was having issues lessened. He or she was no longer living rent free in my head. Instead of wishing my mom out of my mental background, my prayers for her released her into the world of everyone else and me from my prison of anger. I’m not saying that this is the only way to fulfill Jesus’ command to love each other. It’s not instantaneous, or necessarily fool-proof, so to speak. But it helped me, and maybe it can help someone else. It’s also interesting how it parallels “whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you.” Mothers and Fathers Days are so bittersweet. Between the precious breakfasts in bed, to the parents that have lost a child, the gathered flock at the old homestead to the recent passing on to eternal life of the family matron, there is an entire panorama of emotions around this day. It is part of being human - good times and not so good times. It’s how we do it, how we go down this human road that makes all the difference. Billy Graham once said, “When granted many years of life, growing old in age is natural, but growing old with grace is a choice. Growing older with grace is possible for all who will set their hearts and minds on the Giver of grace, the Lord Jesus Christ.” The same can be said of love. Growing old with love is a choice. When the legos have clogged the toilet for the umpteenth time, the chocolate milk spilled on the new cream-colored carpeting and the newly planted annuals have been “weeded,” it is understandable how a mother’s love can momentarily lack like. As adults, we get that life can get in the way of our loving “all” people. But we still have Jesus’ command to love each other, if not for the sake of the world, then at least for the sake of our own hearts. We all have to work through our own situations to do that, so we all have the need to pray that we love as best as we can. So shall we? God of all love, the command to love each other is a high calling, and you give it to each of us. For seeing such potential in us, we thank you. For using us in bringing about healing and completing our joy, we are also grateful. For those of us that are struggling - with love in general or in specific, we pray you would lead us to love with your love. Thank you for the mothers in our lives - and those who mother us. Let us not grow weary of living our lives according to the example of your son, Jesus Christ. And all your people say, Amen. First Congregational Church
May 3, 2015 Fifth Sunday after Easter John 15:1-8 “Abiding” Rev. Dinah Haag, preaching A farmer purchased an old, run-down, abandoned farm with plans to turn it into a thriving enterprise. The fields were grown over with weeds, the farmhouse was falling apart, and the fences were broken down. During his first day of work, the town preacher stops by to bless the man's work, saying, "May you and God work together to make this the farm of your dreams!" A few months later, the preacher stops by again to call on the farmer. Lo and behold, it's a completely different place. The farm house is completely rebuilt and in excellent condition, there is plenty of cattle and other livestock happily munching on feed in well-fenced pens, and the fields are filled with crops planted in neat rows. "Amazing!" the preacher says. "Look what God and you have accomplished together!" "Yes, reverend," says the farmer, "but remember what the farm was like when God was working it alone!” In the book of John, our passage for this morning comes during the table discussion/sermon that happened on Jesus’ last night. Unless one spends a bit of time looking at the overview of chapters in John, one might not appreciate all that happened between grace and Jesus’ arrest. One would be apt to miss that it was more of a worship service, complete with sacramental communion, a foot washing, prayers for the disciples and all believers, and words of inspiration and hope to face the coming days. In the middle of all that, Jesus gives the disciples - and us - these words. John 15:1-8 NIV 15 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2 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. 3 You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4 Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. 5 “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. 6 If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. 7 If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8 This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples. Thank you, Mary Ann. For all for whom this passage is a favorite, I apologize right up front. From the very first reading of this passage, I began rehearsing all the reasons why I so dislike this passage. There is so much in here that rubs my fur the wrong way, that in earlier days, I may have passed right over it, opting for the lectionary passage from the epistles or even, yes, even, a passage from the Old Testament or Psalms or something I picked out of the air. God cutting off anything - even if it dead - doesn’t seem to represent the loving kind of God that I - and maybe you - love and worship. God pruning seems like saying that God makes bad things happen to people, which doesn’t sit right. (Although I have to admit, that the passage talks about pruning that which is already dead, so I guess I have to cut Jesus a little slack there.) Apart from Jesus, no one can do anything? There are plenty of atheists and members of religions of all kinds that do good things. When we’re worn out and grieving to the max and seeming to lie still, even feeling far away from God, by all rights looking dead, does that mean that we ought to be gathered up and burned? If that’s discipleship, don’t sign me up. At least he said we are already clean, so we don’t have to go through all the purification processes of yester-year. Thank you for listening. I now feel better. I’m guessing that many of you farmers or hobby horticulturalists have taken up the pruning shears to make a plant “better.” I’ve done it myself more times that I can remember, and I know that makes what I just said nigh unto antithetical. In reality, it’s not that the plant is bad, but we’re making way for more better - so to speak. So it makes sense to prune, bushes and plants and our own lives. My heart still doesn’t like the idea of God’s pruning, but my head says not to burn that bridge. To the English people, I apologize for mixing metaphors, but sometimes a preacher’s got to say what a preachers got to say. So they say. Pruning takes evaluation, and while we are often times excellent at evaluating other plants, that is, other people, we aren’t so good at doing it in our own lives. Okay, my own life. I know you all are good. I’m hanging good with God, life is good, mostly, and truthfully, if I do any self-evaluating, it means it may - will probably - need to get a little messy before it gets “better”. And I know you’re all wise enough to realize that when I say “I”, it’s really “we,” but I’m trying to to guilt anyone, if that makes any sense. The title of this morning’s message, “Abiding,” strangely doesn’t not appear in the passage. It is used in the New Revised Standard Version and the King James Version and probably others, but not our pew New International Version. But it comes from verse 4, where we have it as “Remain.” “Remain in me, as I also remain in you.” “Abide in me, and I in you.” Meda Stamper from WorkingPreacher.org was the one who raised the focus on abiding. She pointed out that the writer of John uses “abide” a lot to mean “mutual indwelling.” She also pointed out that other famous passage from John, that the many mansions Jesus goes to prepare for us are actually abiding places. Then she made the bridge that the vine image is another way of of talking about abiding places (places where one is deeply at home), and both the vine and the abiding places are ways of talking about love. “Abide is one of the two imperatives of the passage. The branches have to abide because without the vine, they are fruitless; they can do nothing. And if they do abide and Jesus’ words abide in them, then comes the imperative ask. There can be little doubt that what the branches will ask for will be shaped by the one who tends them; they will surely ask for the fruitfulness for which they have been pruned.” “Abide is one of the two imperatives of the passage. The branches have to abide because without the vine, they are fruitless; they can do nothing. And if they do abide and Jesus’ words abide in them, then comes the imperative ask. There can be little doubt that what the branches will ask for will be shaped by the one who tends them; they will surely ask for the fruitfulness for which they have been pruned.” The word “fruit” occurs six times in these eight verses. Fruit-bearing is not something that the branches do by force of will. The fruit happens organically because the vine is true and the gardener good. It is perhaps also worth keeping in mind that branches don’t live off their own fruit. The fruit is for someone else. I’ve been catching articles lately about church membership and “how to get people to come/participate” - not because I’m worried, but I’m intrigued by what is driving people. This week, I came across a Washington Post article about why or how Millennials - those born between 1980 and 2000 - are coming back to church. The article, by Rachel Held Evans, suggested that it’s not the fancy tv screens and the overly loud praise teams, or even the stylin’ pastors with the cool hair cuts and worn jeans. It seems that our young people are looking for is real, honest to goodness worship. Ms. Evans said, “What finally brought me back, after years of running away, wasn’t lattes or skinny jeans; it was the sacraments. Baptism, confession, Communion, preaching the Word, anointing the sick — you know, those strange rituals and traditions Christians have been practicing for the past 2,000 years. The sacraments are what make the church relevant, no matter the culture or era. They don’t need to be repackaged or rebranded; they just need to be practiced, offered and explained in the context of a loving, authentic and inclusive community.” Ms. Evan’s friend, Amy Peterson put it this way: “I want a service that is not sensational, flashy, or particularly ‘relevant.’ I can be entertained anywhere. At church, I do not want to be entertained. I do not want to be the target of anyone’s marketing. I want to be asked to participate in the life of an ancient-future community.” We are connected to the vine of faith, because Christ is the vine. We think our connection to the vine is about ourselves, and granted, there are some great benefits from our own connection - our own abiding. We may think that our fruit bearing is for our family, for children and grandchildren, and that is also true - to an extent. Truth be told, our abiding - in Christ and Christ in us - is much more about those we will never know. As the first official Sesquicentennial meeting comes up this week, we begin some serious thinking about all those years ago, when some good hearted folks like Warren K and Anna A. Marsha of Randolph, N.Y, Joseph and Elsie A. Ford of Benzonia, and Charles G. and Mary E. Brownell of Detroit and 22 others decided that they would cultivate one of God’s vines right here in Frankfort. Those individuals, and all those that came after them and before us - official abiders or not - were connected to the vine of Christ and produced a crop that they didn’t get to see: us. They didn’t know our faces when they had to take stock of their own hearts and minds, determining what wasn’t bearing fruit. 150 years from now, they will have pictorial directories, but few is any will really know of that with which each of us personally struggles. It is doubtful that any of those that have gone before us or any that will come after us will come to love vine-pruning. Because of what we have been given, we owe it to the next generations to give our own grapes the best sun, the best protection, and the best space to become the fruit-bearers that God has always seen us to be. Which sounds like a great place to pray. Great heart-tender and fruit lover, we thank you that you provide the places where we can abide in you, through your son, Jesus Christ. We may not passionately love all that happens in our lives, but we are grateful that you do not leave us, abandoned and wild, to grow up as weeds. Thank you for the abundance you give us, not that we thoroughly understand or fully appreciate vine-tending or soil preparing. But thank you that we can be an honest work, that you work through us, despite us and with us to produce things that are far beyond our knowing and recognition. Help us to clearly see your love - not as we like it to be or want it to be, but as you have given it to be, that we will desire more than anything to stay connected to your roots. For all the blessings you bestow on us, regardless of our human appreciation, all your people say, Amen. |
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