“Cacophony of Praise”
Psalm 148
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 28 December, 2008
First Sunday after Christmas
----
 I was recently asked what my favorite image of God is in the Bible. I thought for a moment and then answered, “The image of God as Creator.” I don’t know if I love this image because I believe so strongly in environmental causes or if I am an environmentalist because I believe so strongly in a Creator God (I believe in evolution too, but that’s another sermon for another day). In any case, I cannot but give thanks to God when I witness a particularly beautiful scene in nature. In the same bent, I cannot but feel heartbroken when I see nature being destroyed.
Thus, when I read our Psalm for this morning my heart veritably sang with recognition. The Psalmist calls upon the sun and moon to praise the Lord, and then: “Praise the Lord from the earth, you sea monsters and all deeps, fire and hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command! Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars! Wild animals and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds! Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth! Young men and women alike, old and young together! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for his name alone is exalted; his glory is above earth and heaven.”
I can imagine all these members of God’s Creation praising God in their unique ways. The sea monsters -- whales, for example -- would praise God through their whale song. Wild animals would praise God through the unique noises they make. Cattle would praise God by mooing joyfully. Creeping things would praise God by, well, whatever way they would. Birds of the air would praise God by soaring to the heavens or singing beautifully. Fruit trees and cedars would praise God by striving to get the best sunlight and the best nutrients. Men and women would praise God through song and dance. I imagine all of God’s Creation praising God at once, making a deafening sound that somehow was beautiful and did not bother other species, because it was done as an act of praise.
Although this Psalm was written long before Jesus was born, I can imagine all Creation engaging in these simultaneous songs of praise as Christ is brought into the world. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!” They would fall silent immediately thereafter so as not to disturb the newborn infant who, like any child, needed sleep. Then all of God’s Creation would find silent, but still beautiful ways of praising God for the birth of the Christ child. Some of our Christmas carols describe the animals in the manger “bowing down before him,” and I imagine all of Creation doing so. “Silent night, holy night.” For this one magical night the lion and the lamb would lay down together, with no desire to destroy the other, yet no hunger gnawing at them.
On this first Sunday after Christmas, when Christians are still well-ensconced in the Christmas season, I have not yet let go of the peacefulness of Christmas Eve. I still feel the hope that seems to open like a flower on Christmas Eve, the light coming back into the world after a dark year. I still feel that things will be better this year, and I connect this to Christ Jesus being born in us again on Christmas Eve -- just as he is year after year. I am still praising the Lord softly with all Creation, and I feel a peace I have not felt in some time.
But, of course, not all of Creation is at peace. We still have violence and poverty and sickness and heartbreak. The son of family friends of ours was found dead a few weeks ago. I imagine his parents are not praising God as vociferously as I am. There are those among you who are having a difficult time. To you, these songs of praise may seem to exist for the sole purpose of tormenting you. “How can anyone -- wild animal or human -- praise God when I feel like this?!” Or you may feel guilty for begrudging anyone their joyous celebration. “I know I should be praising God. I am wrong not to join in the songs of praise. I am wrong to shrink away from the babe in the manger.” You get so tangled up in your guilt that you join in the songs of praise even as your heart breaks -- you sound more joyful than anyone else in the room. You will praise God, even if it tears you apart to do so.
But listen. In this morning’s Psalm the whole of God’s Creation is singing songs of praise. The entire Christian world is singing “Joy to the world!” Don’t you think these songs of praise will still be beautiful, even if you can’t participate this year? We are called to praise God, and your voice will be missed. But God forgives those who do not join in songs of praise when their hearts are breaking. Indeed, there is nothing to forgive. Would God begrudge a bird with a broken wing if it did not fly in a beautiful formation? Just so, God simply reaches out to comfort those among God’s Creation who cannot join in the celebrations.
Much of God’s Creation is limping -- facing extinction, suffering the effects of pollution, losing the only place it has called home. God is only too aware that survival needs to be at the top of the list for these creatures, and they may not be able to join in the dance around the manger this year.
The rest of us, however, are called to pick up the slack by joining together in praising the Lord. We have just been given the incarnation of God in the world, the Christ child, Emmanuel, God-with-us. Let us praise God! And let us do so not only with our cacophony of voices, but by caring for God’s Creation. Let us praise the Lord by caring for our sisters and brothers who are hurting. Let us praise the Lord by fighting against pollution and fighting for conservation. Let us praise the Lord by reducing, reusing, and recycling. Let us praise the Lord by doing all that we can to make sure that God’s Creation is here another year.
What better way can we praise the Lord than by making sure the sea monsters, and wild animals, and creeping things, and birds of the air, and cedars, and fruit trees, and women, and men are here to celebrate another Christmas? What better way can we celebrate God’s incarnation into the world than by making sure the world is still here next year to celebrate?
May those of you with aching hearts find comfort in the familiar words of scripture. God embraces you as you are silent this year. God loves each one of us no matter who we are or where we are on life’s journey. But may those rest of us who are able praise God with our songs and with our actions. Now let us pray.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
A Meditation on the Light - Xmas Eve 2008
“A Meditation on the Light”
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Christmas Eve 2008
----
 This has been a dark year. There seems to be some kind of a gloom hanging over our world. I overheard a man say the other day that there is some sort of a national depression, and he wasn’t talking just about the economy. We are in our sixth year of war with Iraq, we face violence in our own city, we see corruption in politics -- and yes, there’s the economy. More people are hungry or homeless than have been in a long time. Our prayer list at church never lacks for names -- we all know someone who is sick or hurting, or we are sick or hurting ourselves. We are worried about umpteen things. A spark of hope arose for many after election day, but by December we were in the doldrums again. I have witnessed more aching hearts in the past year than I had seen in a long time.
Amidst this malaise, we have been busy. We have been caring for loved ones, or working hard not to lose our jobs, or looking for new jobs. We may have to try even harder than usual to provide for our needs and the needs of our families, but we are trying. And we’re tired. We’re tired and aching and it’s dark.
...But wait! Here in this darkness, where hope seems elusive, a tiny light begins to glow. Just a pinprick of light. ...Do you see it? It is the light of the star over Bethlehem. As we sit here in the peacefulness of this church the light begins to glow a little brighter, until we can make out the shape of a tiny infant lying in a manger. He’s an ordinary newborn, red-faced and wrinkly. But there is nothing ordinary about a newborn. And this tiny baby, who we can just make out by the light of the star, will be the hope of the world. He will be the Savior we so desperately need.
This is not to say that our broken hearts will mend tomorrow or that our broken world will be made whole with the snap of his tiny fingers. But as Christians we believe that Jesus is the Light of the world. May his birth tonight -- the birth of Emmanuel, God-With-Us -- bring light back into our world. May this Christmas be the beginning of a hopeful year, a light-filled year, a year of strength and joy, where pain becomes secondary in our lives. May our hearts begin to open tonight, to let in the light of that extraordinary baby in a manger. May his new life bring new life to our world.
Now, as we bathe in the light of Christ, let us pray.
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Christmas Eve 2008
----
 This has been a dark year. There seems to be some kind of a gloom hanging over our world. I overheard a man say the other day that there is some sort of a national depression, and he wasn’t talking just about the economy. We are in our sixth year of war with Iraq, we face violence in our own city, we see corruption in politics -- and yes, there’s the economy. More people are hungry or homeless than have been in a long time. Our prayer list at church never lacks for names -- we all know someone who is sick or hurting, or we are sick or hurting ourselves. We are worried about umpteen things. A spark of hope arose for many after election day, but by December we were in the doldrums again. I have witnessed more aching hearts in the past year than I had seen in a long time.
Amidst this malaise, we have been busy. We have been caring for loved ones, or working hard not to lose our jobs, or looking for new jobs. We may have to try even harder than usual to provide for our needs and the needs of our families, but we are trying. And we’re tired. We’re tired and aching and it’s dark.
...But wait! Here in this darkness, where hope seems elusive, a tiny light begins to glow. Just a pinprick of light. ...Do you see it? It is the light of the star over Bethlehem. As we sit here in the peacefulness of this church the light begins to glow a little brighter, until we can make out the shape of a tiny infant lying in a manger. He’s an ordinary newborn, red-faced and wrinkly. But there is nothing ordinary about a newborn. And this tiny baby, who we can just make out by the light of the star, will be the hope of the world. He will be the Savior we so desperately need.
This is not to say that our broken hearts will mend tomorrow or that our broken world will be made whole with the snap of his tiny fingers. But as Christians we believe that Jesus is the Light of the world. May his birth tonight -- the birth of Emmanuel, God-With-Us -- bring light back into our world. May this Christmas be the beginning of a hopeful year, a light-filled year, a year of strength and joy, where pain becomes secondary in our lives. May our hearts begin to open tonight, to let in the light of that extraordinary baby in a manger. May his new life bring new life to our world.
Now, as we bathe in the light of Christ, let us pray.
Sermon 12/21/08 (Luke 1+26-38)
“Holiday Interruptions”
Luke 1:26-38
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 21 December, 2008
Fourth Sunday of Advent
----
 ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
All the creatures were stirring -- even the mouse!
There’d been parties and baking and gifts wrapped with care
Even some scripture -- look, Angel Gabriel there!
The children, they listened, to a story known well
The household was cozy, the holidays swell
When out from the street there seeped in such a sadness
They all ran to the window: “What is this madness?!”
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below
When what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a man, clearly homeless, huddled in fear
He was dressed all in rags, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with dirt and with soot
His every belonging was tied up in a bag
His household had made for his shoulders to sag
He had a sadness about him -- seemed heartbroken, really
It was Christmas Eve, after all, wonder what he is feeling
To be on the street, without home, in the cold
It’s enough to make anybody feel old
And as for that family, what on earth were they thinking?
“He’s homeless and dirty -- surely he must be drinking!
How dare this sad soul bring interruption so rude
To our festivities now -- out there begging for food!
It’s Christmas -- time to talk about Jesus and Mary
This man on the street -- he’s just downright scary!”
The man began walking away, as if he had heard them
So they went back to their story -- the manger in Bethlehem
But they heard him say softly as he walked out of sight
“Jesus was homeless too on that first Christmas night.”
Here we are, just a few days before Christmas, and I feel a bit like a chicken with my head cut off. I’ve been really busy, and I’m behind on everything -- Christmas cards, gift-buying, decorating. A lot of people I’ve talked to are running late this year. I don’t know if it’s the economy, or the fact that Thanksgiving was late, or what. All I know is that life is hectic.
Everything is hectic and festive all at once. All I really want to do this morning is sing a Christmas carol or two and daydream about the Angel Gabriel announcing to Mary that she is going to have a baby. All I want to do tonight is sit in my warm house and write the last of my Christmas cards while listening to Christmas music. I just want to think about my loved ones -- most of whom are safe and warm in their own houses -- and imagine the Virgin Mary feeling happy and excited that God chose her. Instead, I am lifting up prayers for the homeless this morning, and tonight I plan to go out in the cold to the Homeless Persons Memorial Service at the Inner Harbor.
It seems like a rude interruption. Why are we bringing this up now?! Why do we have to talk about homelessness the Sunday before Christmas? Why couldn’t this wait until, you know, drab January or something?
The reason this can’t wait is because homelessness doesn’t end just because it’s Christmas. And homelessness certainly doesn’t end just because it’s wet and cold outside. The Homeless Persons Memorial Service is held tonight, in part, because it is the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice. Most of us can barely begin to imagine what it is like to be on streets, alone, in the middle of the night, night after night. It’s dark and it’s cold and it’s lonely and it’s frightening. But nearly 8,000 people in Maryland are homeless. As many as 3.5 million people in the United States experience homelessness in a given year (and the number tends to increase during economic crises).
Homelessness is an interruption. It is an interruption in the realm of God for which we strive. It is an interruption in the otherwise productive lives of human beings. It is an interruption in the care of people who could find happiness and health if they had a home and effective resources. And God has every right to interrupt the lives of those of us who have a home, if such interruption will get us to reach out to those who are desperately in need.
God has a habit of interrupting humankind for good reasons. Indeed, one such interruption came to a young girl named Mary about two thousand years ago. She was going about her business -- a young girl, probably around the age of 13 or 14, preparing for her marriage to a man named Joseph. This was not a good time to get pregnant. This was not a good time for any big interruption -- she had a lot on her plate already. But God had other plans for her. When God sent the Angel Gabriel to announce what God had planned for Mary, God changed the course of Mary’s life, and the course of history. Would any of us begrudge God that interruption, knowing what we know now?
During what remains of this “holiday season” let us welcome the meaningful interruptions that come our way. By taking time out from our festivities tonight to focus on a solemn reality in our city, we will be witnessing to the Truth of the Gospel. By allowing a young child to interrupt our busyness with her childlike wonder, we will be opening our hearts to the mystery of this season. By leaving the party early and going home to read the timeless Bible story, we will be reminding ourselves of the birth of One who turned the world upside down and made it right. May God open our hearts to such holy interruptions.
Now let us pray.
Luke 1:26-38
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 21 December, 2008
Fourth Sunday of Advent
----
 ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
All the creatures were stirring -- even the mouse!
There’d been parties and baking and gifts wrapped with care
Even some scripture -- look, Angel Gabriel there!
The children, they listened, to a story known well
The household was cozy, the holidays swell
When out from the street there seeped in such a sadness
They all ran to the window: “What is this madness?!”
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below
When what to their wondering eyes should appear
But a man, clearly homeless, huddled in fear
He was dressed all in rags, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with dirt and with soot
His every belonging was tied up in a bag
His household had made for his shoulders to sag
He had a sadness about him -- seemed heartbroken, really
It was Christmas Eve, after all, wonder what he is feeling
To be on the street, without home, in the cold
It’s enough to make anybody feel old
And as for that family, what on earth were they thinking?
“He’s homeless and dirty -- surely he must be drinking!
How dare this sad soul bring interruption so rude
To our festivities now -- out there begging for food!
It’s Christmas -- time to talk about Jesus and Mary
This man on the street -- he’s just downright scary!”
The man began walking away, as if he had heard them
So they went back to their story -- the manger in Bethlehem
But they heard him say softly as he walked out of sight
“Jesus was homeless too on that first Christmas night.”
Here we are, just a few days before Christmas, and I feel a bit like a chicken with my head cut off. I’ve been really busy, and I’m behind on everything -- Christmas cards, gift-buying, decorating. A lot of people I’ve talked to are running late this year. I don’t know if it’s the economy, or the fact that Thanksgiving was late, or what. All I know is that life is hectic.
Everything is hectic and festive all at once. All I really want to do this morning is sing a Christmas carol or two and daydream about the Angel Gabriel announcing to Mary that she is going to have a baby. All I want to do tonight is sit in my warm house and write the last of my Christmas cards while listening to Christmas music. I just want to think about my loved ones -- most of whom are safe and warm in their own houses -- and imagine the Virgin Mary feeling happy and excited that God chose her. Instead, I am lifting up prayers for the homeless this morning, and tonight I plan to go out in the cold to the Homeless Persons Memorial Service at the Inner Harbor.
It seems like a rude interruption. Why are we bringing this up now?! Why do we have to talk about homelessness the Sunday before Christmas? Why couldn’t this wait until, you know, drab January or something?
The reason this can’t wait is because homelessness doesn’t end just because it’s Christmas. And homelessness certainly doesn’t end just because it’s wet and cold outside. The Homeless Persons Memorial Service is held tonight, in part, because it is the longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice. Most of us can barely begin to imagine what it is like to be on streets, alone, in the middle of the night, night after night. It’s dark and it’s cold and it’s lonely and it’s frightening. But nearly 8,000 people in Maryland are homeless. As many as 3.5 million people in the United States experience homelessness in a given year (and the number tends to increase during economic crises).
Homelessness is an interruption. It is an interruption in the realm of God for which we strive. It is an interruption in the otherwise productive lives of human beings. It is an interruption in the care of people who could find happiness and health if they had a home and effective resources. And God has every right to interrupt the lives of those of us who have a home, if such interruption will get us to reach out to those who are desperately in need.
God has a habit of interrupting humankind for good reasons. Indeed, one such interruption came to a young girl named Mary about two thousand years ago. She was going about her business -- a young girl, probably around the age of 13 or 14, preparing for her marriage to a man named Joseph. This was not a good time to get pregnant. This was not a good time for any big interruption -- she had a lot on her plate already. But God had other plans for her. When God sent the Angel Gabriel to announce what God had planned for Mary, God changed the course of Mary’s life, and the course of history. Would any of us begrudge God that interruption, knowing what we know now?
During what remains of this “holiday season” let us welcome the meaningful interruptions that come our way. By taking time out from our festivities tonight to focus on a solemn reality in our city, we will be witnessing to the Truth of the Gospel. By allowing a young child to interrupt our busyness with her childlike wonder, we will be opening our hearts to the mystery of this season. By leaving the party early and going home to read the timeless Bible story, we will be reminding ourselves of the birth of One who turned the world upside down and made it right. May God open our hearts to such holy interruptions.
Now let us pray.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Sermon 12/14/08 (John 1:6-8, 19-28)
Third Sunday of Advent
John 1:6-8, 19-28
Sunday, 14 December, 2008
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
----
 Who can tell me what a witness does? ... A witness gives a detailed description of something that they have seen, or of something that they know. These days, the word “witness” probably first conjures up the image of a courtroom and a person being interviewed by lawyers. Indeed, when I did an Internet search for the word “witness” most of the results had to do with courtroom drama.
But, of course, there are other types of witnesses. If I asked you what a “witness” is in a religious context, you might immediately think of the “Jehovah’s Witnesses.” The Jehovah’s Witnesses religious group named themselves after a line from the Book of Isaiah: “You are my witnesses, is the utterance of Jehovah...” And now we’re more on track with this morning’s use of the word. A witness can be someone who believes something so deeply that they simply have to share it with the world. In the words of this morning’s Gospel: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light.”
John had the singular opportunity of knowing the Light of the World before it even came into the world. He knew the Truth in his heart so deeply that he simply had to tell everyone around him. Indeed, God had sent him to do just that. We who sit here today are in a somewhat different position. Jesus already came into the world once. We have a book filled with stories about his birth, his life, his death, and his resurrection. It would seem that we have nothing in common with John the Baptist, who showed up before Jesus was born. We cannot “witness to the light” in the same way that John did. But in fact we have quite a bit in common with John the Baptist. Like him, we have been called to testify to the Light that is Jesus the Christ.
What does it mean to “witness to the light” in our context? It means that we are called to share what we know about Jesus Christ with those around us. During the season of Advent, we talk about Christ coming back into the world, and this is a good time for witness. During Advent we might have more people in church than we usually do, and we can share with them what we know about Jesus. This does not necessarily mean telling people the specifics -- that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, that he was a rabbi from a young age, that he traveled around to this city and that, and where exactly he died on the cross and reappeared to those who loved him. “Witnessing to the Light” has more to do with sharing the kind of love that Jesus preached -- love for the poor, the oppressed, the enemy.
It’s fairly easy to do this when we’re in church. We can show visitors the love of Christ through the way we worship, the hymns we sing, the way we treat one another and the visitors themselves. But we are not just called to witness inside the walls of a church sanctuary on Sunday mornings. John the Baptist witnessed to the light wherever he went, and we are called to do the same thing.
This does not mean that we have to go around telling people, “You should believe in Jesus or else”! This is not helpful, especially in our culture, and I do not believe it is an expression of the real Truth of the Gospel. But we can witness to the truth of the gospel by living that truth -- by loving our neighbors as ourselves, thereby setting an example of the kind of love Jesus preached. This is when witnessing gets more difficult. Witnessing to the light means truly loving the most troublesome people among us. In the words of what is actually a great rap song by Kanye West, Jesus walks “with the hustlers, killers, murderers, drug dealers, even the strippers.” If we are going to witness to the true light that is Jesus Christ, then we need to reach out in love to those kinds of people. This means realizing that the most despised people in our society are creatures of God...children of God. As you know, I have a pen-friend who is in prison. It is easy to reach out to him, because he comes across as very pleasant and is very strong in his own faith -- we talk about God a lot. But truly witnessing to the light of Christ means knowing that even the worst criminal who will never come across as pleasant or faithful is, in fact, loved by God. It also means realizing that, while God may judge us for our actions in this world (while still truly loving us), we humans are not supposed to get involved in the judging part, just the loving.
In an economy like this one, it seems like poverty carries less of a stigma -- which is a good thing -- and reaching out to people in need has become “the thing to do.” But in order to truly be witness to the light we need to help those in need not because it’s popular and not even because we know we could be in the same place. We need to do it because we know something so wonderful about Jesus, and that he has called us to do so.
Advent is a good time to do some of this witnessing. Opportunities are all around us -- giving Christmas baskets, for example, or getting a gift for a man at Earl’s Place. But Advent is also a good time to prepare for the witnessing that we have been called to do the rest of the year. Witnessing to the truth of the Gospel -- witnessing to the love of Christ -- is not a once-a-year job. It is something that God calls us to do 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, with every breath we take. It’s tough stuff. Loving the greatest enemies among us -- yes, even terrorists -- takes a lot of work and a lot of prayer. Even as we carry out acts of witness during this Advent season, this contemplative time in the life of the church is a good opportunity to gird ourselves for the hard work we will do the rest of the year. Take extra time to pray for those less fortunate, and include among them those human beings who are in prison. This is a very difficult time to be behind bars, even if you’re the worst person on earth. When you sing “Peace on earth, good will to all,” remember that all really does mean every human being -- or it least it would have to the Messiah for whom we are witnessing. Take time to breathe in and realize how much God loves you -- often we’re better at loving the rest of the world than we are at remembering that we are included among those whom God loves. And remember that John the Baptist was not the only one who witnessed to the light. You are called to witness too.
Now let us pray.
John 1:6-8, 19-28
Sunday, 14 December, 2008
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
----
 Who can tell me what a witness does? ... A witness gives a detailed description of something that they have seen, or of something that they know. These days, the word “witness” probably first conjures up the image of a courtroom and a person being interviewed by lawyers. Indeed, when I did an Internet search for the word “witness” most of the results had to do with courtroom drama.
But, of course, there are other types of witnesses. If I asked you what a “witness” is in a religious context, you might immediately think of the “Jehovah’s Witnesses.” The Jehovah’s Witnesses religious group named themselves after a line from the Book of Isaiah: “You are my witnesses, is the utterance of Jehovah...” And now we’re more on track with this morning’s use of the word. A witness can be someone who believes something so deeply that they simply have to share it with the world. In the words of this morning’s Gospel: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light.”
John had the singular opportunity of knowing the Light of the World before it even came into the world. He knew the Truth in his heart so deeply that he simply had to tell everyone around him. Indeed, God had sent him to do just that. We who sit here today are in a somewhat different position. Jesus already came into the world once. We have a book filled with stories about his birth, his life, his death, and his resurrection. It would seem that we have nothing in common with John the Baptist, who showed up before Jesus was born. We cannot “witness to the light” in the same way that John did. But in fact we have quite a bit in common with John the Baptist. Like him, we have been called to testify to the Light that is Jesus the Christ.
What does it mean to “witness to the light” in our context? It means that we are called to share what we know about Jesus Christ with those around us. During the season of Advent, we talk about Christ coming back into the world, and this is a good time for witness. During Advent we might have more people in church than we usually do, and we can share with them what we know about Jesus. This does not necessarily mean telling people the specifics -- that Jesus was born in Bethlehem, that he was a rabbi from a young age, that he traveled around to this city and that, and where exactly he died on the cross and reappeared to those who loved him. “Witnessing to the Light” has more to do with sharing the kind of love that Jesus preached -- love for the poor, the oppressed, the enemy.
It’s fairly easy to do this when we’re in church. We can show visitors the love of Christ through the way we worship, the hymns we sing, the way we treat one another and the visitors themselves. But we are not just called to witness inside the walls of a church sanctuary on Sunday mornings. John the Baptist witnessed to the light wherever he went, and we are called to do the same thing.
This does not mean that we have to go around telling people, “You should believe in Jesus or else”! This is not helpful, especially in our culture, and I do not believe it is an expression of the real Truth of the Gospel. But we can witness to the truth of the gospel by living that truth -- by loving our neighbors as ourselves, thereby setting an example of the kind of love Jesus preached. This is when witnessing gets more difficult. Witnessing to the light means truly loving the most troublesome people among us. In the words of what is actually a great rap song by Kanye West, Jesus walks “with the hustlers, killers, murderers, drug dealers, even the strippers.” If we are going to witness to the true light that is Jesus Christ, then we need to reach out in love to those kinds of people. This means realizing that the most despised people in our society are creatures of God...children of God. As you know, I have a pen-friend who is in prison. It is easy to reach out to him, because he comes across as very pleasant and is very strong in his own faith -- we talk about God a lot. But truly witnessing to the light of Christ means knowing that even the worst criminal who will never come across as pleasant or faithful is, in fact, loved by God. It also means realizing that, while God may judge us for our actions in this world (while still truly loving us), we humans are not supposed to get involved in the judging part, just the loving.
In an economy like this one, it seems like poverty carries less of a stigma -- which is a good thing -- and reaching out to people in need has become “the thing to do.” But in order to truly be witness to the light we need to help those in need not because it’s popular and not even because we know we could be in the same place. We need to do it because we know something so wonderful about Jesus, and that he has called us to do so.
Advent is a good time to do some of this witnessing. Opportunities are all around us -- giving Christmas baskets, for example, or getting a gift for a man at Earl’s Place. But Advent is also a good time to prepare for the witnessing that we have been called to do the rest of the year. Witnessing to the truth of the Gospel -- witnessing to the love of Christ -- is not a once-a-year job. It is something that God calls us to do 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, with every breath we take. It’s tough stuff. Loving the greatest enemies among us -- yes, even terrorists -- takes a lot of work and a lot of prayer. Even as we carry out acts of witness during this Advent season, this contemplative time in the life of the church is a good opportunity to gird ourselves for the hard work we will do the rest of the year. Take extra time to pray for those less fortunate, and include among them those human beings who are in prison. This is a very difficult time to be behind bars, even if you’re the worst person on earth. When you sing “Peace on earth, good will to all,” remember that all really does mean every human being -- or it least it would have to the Messiah for whom we are witnessing. Take time to breathe in and realize how much God loves you -- often we’re better at loving the rest of the world than we are at remembering that we are included among those whom God loves. And remember that John the Baptist was not the only one who witnessed to the light. You are called to witness too.
Now let us pray.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Sermon 11/30/08 (Isaiah 64:1-9)
“Works in Progress”
Isaiah 64:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 30 November, 2008
First Sunday of Advent
----
 I am a little shocked that the Season of Advent begins today. I should be ready for it. After all, I have seen Christmas advertisements in the stores since late September. I have been getting Christmas catalogs since August. And now “the holiday season” is really in full swing. “Black Friday” has taken place, and although I was far from the shopping malls I saw pictures of the mayhem in the news. I am working on my annual Christmas letter and will sit down to begin my Christmas cards in a week or two. But right now I’m not ready for it. ...Why is that?
I think there is one main reason Advent shocks us -- or at least me. Outside the walls of the church the Christmas season is in full swing. We see Santa Claus and snowmen and cheerful babies in mangers, surrounded by a glowing Mary and Joseph. I sat in a deli last week and was nauseated by a constant stream of bad Christmas carols, sung by overwrought musicians. A crowd of 2,000 greed-blinded people rushed through the door of a Wal Mart on Friday, killing an employee who was hired to assist with the busy holiday season.
These experiences are what “the Christmas season” has become to the outside world. Then I walk in the doors of the church and am in a different world. Here the Christmas season does not even begin until December 25th. The Advent season -- the four weeks leading up to Christmas -- is a solemn time in the church. It is a time for contemplation and prayer. ...And look at the scriptures! We are not welcomed this morning with a sentimental tale about a Christ-child born in Bethlehem. Instead -- smack! -- we are hit with dark words about the anger of God toward a sinful people and about the Second Coming of Christ. We must reconfigure our cheerful holiday mood when we enter the doors of the church and prepare for something a little different.
It is a shock to the senses to go from “Oh, Holy Night” to “But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” It makes the head spin to go from “Jingle Bells” to “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence...to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!” Yet there they are. There are those dark words that usher us into the Season of Advent. And once we get past the initial shock, I hope we will realize the beauty of the words and their reason for being here. The theme of the First Sunday of Advent every year is “hope,” and I pray that we will see the hope contained in Isaiah’s and Mark’s shocking words too.
Our reading from Isaiah begins with a desperate prayer for God to make God’s presence known: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” Is this not exactly what we need? Our world is hurting terribly right now. We set aside our pain as much as we can so we can “get into the holiday spirit.” We shrug off our woes so we can make the best Christmas possible for our families. We ignore the horrors of the world and delve into “Christmas cheer.” ...This is not entirely a bad thing. Escapism has its purposes. But perhaps this year, more than ever, what we really need to be doing during this season is calling out to God, begging for forgiveness, and becoming aware that we are created by God.
We talk every week about the troubles in our lives and in our world. This week, the terrible violence in Mumbai, India was one more thing to add to our prayers. Is there not tremendous hope in the idea of God tearing open the heavens and coming to save us?
Then there is Isaiah’s cry for forgiveness. Even as we weep in horror at the transgressions of our fellow humans we, too, commit sins. Isn’t confessing those sins before God a perfect way to prepare for Christ’s coming into the world? Whether we have turned from God in large or small ways, cleaning our slate is a way of showing that we respect and honor the Christ who is about to come into our midst. It is also a good way to check our own spiritual gauge during what has become a “holiday season” about greed and hectic activity.
Finally, there is Isaiah’s description of God as the potter and humankind as the clay. This is a beautiful reminder that we belong to God and that God has not, in fact, stopped the process of creating us. We’re works in progress. Advent marks the beginning of the Christian year, so maybe this can be a new beginning for us -- a time to allow God to re-create us, to mold us in God’s image.
This morning, in a few moments, we will baptize Jonathan Russell. Jonathan is at the very beginning of his life’s journey, and one of the things we emphasize at a baptism is the Christian journey. As a congregation, we will promise “our love, support and care” to Jonathan “as he lives and grows in Christ.” It will be easy to think of him as the clay that God is molding, because he is so young. Every time he does something, we can practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he learns new things about his world.
But perhaps the words of Isaiah, and the coming Advent of Christ can help us to realize that we, too, are being molded and changed; that we are growing in new ways with every breath we take. Today is Margaret King’s 95th birthday. Today Jonathan will celebrate his first birthday. Let us take this season of Advent to remember that Margaret is a work in progress, just as Jonathan is. God is creating us continuously, developing our spirits and our hearts and our minds from before we are born until the day that we die. Let us respect and honor God’s creation of us by taking time to nurture our spirits during this Advent season.
Now let us pray.
Isaiah 64:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 30 November, 2008
First Sunday of Advent
----
 I am a little shocked that the Season of Advent begins today. I should be ready for it. After all, I have seen Christmas advertisements in the stores since late September. I have been getting Christmas catalogs since August. And now “the holiday season” is really in full swing. “Black Friday” has taken place, and although I was far from the shopping malls I saw pictures of the mayhem in the news. I am working on my annual Christmas letter and will sit down to begin my Christmas cards in a week or two. But right now I’m not ready for it. ...Why is that?
I think there is one main reason Advent shocks us -- or at least me. Outside the walls of the church the Christmas season is in full swing. We see Santa Claus and snowmen and cheerful babies in mangers, surrounded by a glowing Mary and Joseph. I sat in a deli last week and was nauseated by a constant stream of bad Christmas carols, sung by overwrought musicians. A crowd of 2,000 greed-blinded people rushed through the door of a Wal Mart on Friday, killing an employee who was hired to assist with the busy holiday season.
These experiences are what “the Christmas season” has become to the outside world. Then I walk in the doors of the church and am in a different world. Here the Christmas season does not even begin until December 25th. The Advent season -- the four weeks leading up to Christmas -- is a solemn time in the church. It is a time for contemplation and prayer. ...And look at the scriptures! We are not welcomed this morning with a sentimental tale about a Christ-child born in Bethlehem. Instead -- smack! -- we are hit with dark words about the anger of God toward a sinful people and about the Second Coming of Christ. We must reconfigure our cheerful holiday mood when we enter the doors of the church and prepare for something a little different.
It is a shock to the senses to go from “Oh, Holy Night” to “But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” It makes the head spin to go from “Jingle Bells” to “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence...to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!” Yet there they are. There are those dark words that usher us into the Season of Advent. And once we get past the initial shock, I hope we will realize the beauty of the words and their reason for being here. The theme of the First Sunday of Advent every year is “hope,” and I pray that we will see the hope contained in Isaiah’s and Mark’s shocking words too.
Our reading from Isaiah begins with a desperate prayer for God to make God’s presence known: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” Is this not exactly what we need? Our world is hurting terribly right now. We set aside our pain as much as we can so we can “get into the holiday spirit.” We shrug off our woes so we can make the best Christmas possible for our families. We ignore the horrors of the world and delve into “Christmas cheer.” ...This is not entirely a bad thing. Escapism has its purposes. But perhaps this year, more than ever, what we really need to be doing during this season is calling out to God, begging for forgiveness, and becoming aware that we are created by God.
We talk every week about the troubles in our lives and in our world. This week, the terrible violence in Mumbai, India was one more thing to add to our prayers. Is there not tremendous hope in the idea of God tearing open the heavens and coming to save us?
Then there is Isaiah’s cry for forgiveness. Even as we weep in horror at the transgressions of our fellow humans we, too, commit sins. Isn’t confessing those sins before God a perfect way to prepare for Christ’s coming into the world? Whether we have turned from God in large or small ways, cleaning our slate is a way of showing that we respect and honor the Christ who is about to come into our midst. It is also a good way to check our own spiritual gauge during what has become a “holiday season” about greed and hectic activity.
Finally, there is Isaiah’s description of God as the potter and humankind as the clay. This is a beautiful reminder that we belong to God and that God has not, in fact, stopped the process of creating us. We’re works in progress. Advent marks the beginning of the Christian year, so maybe this can be a new beginning for us -- a time to allow God to re-create us, to mold us in God’s image.
This morning, in a few moments, we will baptize Jonathan Russell. Jonathan is at the very beginning of his life’s journey, and one of the things we emphasize at a baptism is the Christian journey. As a congregation, we will promise “our love, support and care” to Jonathan “as he lives and grows in Christ.” It will be easy to think of him as the clay that God is molding, because he is so young. Every time he does something, we can practically see the wheels turning in his brain as he learns new things about his world.
But perhaps the words of Isaiah, and the coming Advent of Christ can help us to realize that we, too, are being molded and changed; that we are growing in new ways with every breath we take. Today is Margaret King’s 95th birthday. Today Jonathan will celebrate his first birthday. Let us take this season of Advent to remember that Margaret is a work in progress, just as Jonathan is. God is creating us continuously, developing our spirits and our hearts and our minds from before we are born until the day that we die. Let us respect and honor God’s creation of us by taking time to nurture our spirits during this Advent season.
Now let us pray.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sermon 11/23/08 (Deut. 8:7-18; Matt. 25:31-46)
“Thanks & Giving”
Deuteronomy 8:7-18; Matthew 25:31-46
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 23 November, 2008
Reign of Christ Sunday
Thanksgiving Sunday
----
 We have been talking a lot lately about how troubled our world is, and for good reason: these are, indeed, troubled times. We have been at war in Iraq for more than 5 years, with no exit strategy in sight. Countless other parts of the world face war, and violence erupts on a regular basis in Baltimore city. Natural disasters hit our own and other coasts, and fires rage in California. Then there’s the economy. Food pantries and homeless shelters have seen an influx of new clients, and whether or not we’re there yet, we worry about how we’ll pay our bills.
In short, our world does not much resemble the one described in our reading from Deuteronomy: “a land where you may eat bread without scarcity, where you will lack nothing.” It doesn’t seem much like our Psalm: “You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness.” The reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians falls on deaf ears: “God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that [we] always [have] enough of everything.”
Our scriptures contain many such tales of God’s abundance. God will provide for all of our needs, we’re told. God will present to us a land flowing with milk and honey, we read. God’s blessings will be too many for us to count. We should cry to God with songs of thanksgiving! We should praise God with our every breath, the scriptures tell us!
...Instead of praising God with songs of thanksgiving, we worry about how we will pay our bills -- maybe even how we will put food on the table. We read scriptures like today’s and put them aside, because they don’t seem to fit our current situation. But here they are this morning. How do we deal with scriptures like these in times like these? And how do we treat a holiday like Thanksgiving, when we’re not too sure about “thanking God for abundance”? I suggest that the first thing we do is to count our blessings. Yes, life might be hard for us right now. Business might be slow, we might be worried about money, we might be concerned about loved ones serving in the military. We might have serious health problems or be worried about loved ones who do. We might wonder how we are going to provide a Thanksgiving dinner -- or any dinner. Life might be hard in different ways for those of us here. But we all have at least one thing in common: Regardless of whatever else is going on in our lives, we have been blessed with the ability to join together and worship at St. Mark’s this morning. We were well enough to get out of bed. We have eaten recently enough to have the energy to get here. And here we are. There’s one big blessing for which we can give thanks to God: we have the strength to worship in a community of faith this Sunday morning. Here’s another one: Every one of us here is invited to a Thanksgiving dinner after church today. Whatever our plans are for this Thursday, today we will have a sumptuous meal and a loving family with which to share it. Blessing Number Two.
My guess is that you will, in fact, come up with many more blessings once you sit down and really think about it. We have more abundance than we ever would have imagined. I think, in fact, that it may be easier to count one’s blessings during difficult times. During times of plenty, we have so much stuff that it becomes almost too much to quantify. We begin to take life for granted and think that our abundance is strictly the result of our own hard work. We leave God out of the equation. But during times of struggle, there’s less to count. We might spend a fair bit of time complaining to God about having less. But then we realize that we have still been blessed with much, and we are able to express gratitude to the God who gave it to us.
What, then, do we do with all of our blessings once we’ve counted them? How do we respond to the God who has given us much even when we think we have little? We first, of course, respond by falling to our knees and praising God. But once we have given thanks for God’s “indescribable gift,” what do we do with the blessings that we have?
“for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
We express our gratitude to God by caring for God’s children. Whether we live in a beautiful home and eat a fancy meal every night, or whether we live on the streets and eat out of a trash can, there is always someone who is worse off than we are. Christ commands us -- whoever we are -- to drop whatever we are doing and care for those people who are suffering. If you have food or water or clothing beyond what you absolutely need, then you are called to share it with the one who has none. And you do not require any material wealth in order to welcome the stranger, take care of the sick, or visit the prisoner. Any one of us can do that, and that is a blessing that we can all count among what God has given us: the ability to care for our neighbors.
The beautiful thing about this morning’s scriptures, in light of the Thanksgiving holiday we will celebrate in a few days, is that they apply to every one of us. I implore you to center yourself in prayer and realize that God has, in fact, provided you with an “indescribable gift.” And I ask you to come to terms with the fact that whoever you are, or wherever you are on life’s journey, you have something to give to those who are less fortunate than you.
These are hard times for all of us, for a lot of different reasons. But following our scriptures will make the world a better place. Feeding one another, welcoming one another, caring for one another, and visiting one another will improve the state of our world...and it will be serving Christ directly.
Being a Christian means being able to turn to God when things are tough. It means thanking God for even the tiniest blessings. And it means taking care of our neighbors, God’s children, remembering that they come in every color, nationality, description. They are the immigrant, the convict, the AIDS victim, the upstanding, healthy American citizen who comes to church every Sunday. Christ himself takes every form.
Let us give thanks for our blessings, for our diversity as humankind, and for our ability to help one another. Now let us pray.
Deuteronomy 8:7-18; Matthew 25:31-46
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 23 November, 2008
Reign of Christ Sunday
Thanksgiving Sunday
----
 We have been talking a lot lately about how troubled our world is, and for good reason: these are, indeed, troubled times. We have been at war in Iraq for more than 5 years, with no exit strategy in sight. Countless other parts of the world face war, and violence erupts on a regular basis in Baltimore city. Natural disasters hit our own and other coasts, and fires rage in California. Then there’s the economy. Food pantries and homeless shelters have seen an influx of new clients, and whether or not we’re there yet, we worry about how we’ll pay our bills.
In short, our world does not much resemble the one described in our reading from Deuteronomy: “a land where you may eat bread without scarcity, where you will lack nothing.” It doesn’t seem much like our Psalm: “You crown the year with your bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with richness.” The reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians falls on deaf ears: “God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance, so that [we] always [have] enough of everything.”
Our scriptures contain many such tales of God’s abundance. God will provide for all of our needs, we’re told. God will present to us a land flowing with milk and honey, we read. God’s blessings will be too many for us to count. We should cry to God with songs of thanksgiving! We should praise God with our every breath, the scriptures tell us!
...Instead of praising God with songs of thanksgiving, we worry about how we will pay our bills -- maybe even how we will put food on the table. We read scriptures like today’s and put them aside, because they don’t seem to fit our current situation. But here they are this morning. How do we deal with scriptures like these in times like these? And how do we treat a holiday like Thanksgiving, when we’re not too sure about “thanking God for abundance”? I suggest that the first thing we do is to count our blessings. Yes, life might be hard for us right now. Business might be slow, we might be worried about money, we might be concerned about loved ones serving in the military. We might have serious health problems or be worried about loved ones who do. We might wonder how we are going to provide a Thanksgiving dinner -- or any dinner. Life might be hard in different ways for those of us here. But we all have at least one thing in common: Regardless of whatever else is going on in our lives, we have been blessed with the ability to join together and worship at St. Mark’s this morning. We were well enough to get out of bed. We have eaten recently enough to have the energy to get here. And here we are. There’s one big blessing for which we can give thanks to God: we have the strength to worship in a community of faith this Sunday morning. Here’s another one: Every one of us here is invited to a Thanksgiving dinner after church today. Whatever our plans are for this Thursday, today we will have a sumptuous meal and a loving family with which to share it. Blessing Number Two.
My guess is that you will, in fact, come up with many more blessings once you sit down and really think about it. We have more abundance than we ever would have imagined. I think, in fact, that it may be easier to count one’s blessings during difficult times. During times of plenty, we have so much stuff that it becomes almost too much to quantify. We begin to take life for granted and think that our abundance is strictly the result of our own hard work. We leave God out of the equation. But during times of struggle, there’s less to count. We might spend a fair bit of time complaining to God about having less. But then we realize that we have still been blessed with much, and we are able to express gratitude to the God who gave it to us.
What, then, do we do with all of our blessings once we’ve counted them? How do we respond to the God who has given us much even when we think we have little? We first, of course, respond by falling to our knees and praising God. But once we have given thanks for God’s “indescribable gift,” what do we do with the blessings that we have?
“for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
We express our gratitude to God by caring for God’s children. Whether we live in a beautiful home and eat a fancy meal every night, or whether we live on the streets and eat out of a trash can, there is always someone who is worse off than we are. Christ commands us -- whoever we are -- to drop whatever we are doing and care for those people who are suffering. If you have food or water or clothing beyond what you absolutely need, then you are called to share it with the one who has none. And you do not require any material wealth in order to welcome the stranger, take care of the sick, or visit the prisoner. Any one of us can do that, and that is a blessing that we can all count among what God has given us: the ability to care for our neighbors.
The beautiful thing about this morning’s scriptures, in light of the Thanksgiving holiday we will celebrate in a few days, is that they apply to every one of us. I implore you to center yourself in prayer and realize that God has, in fact, provided you with an “indescribable gift.” And I ask you to come to terms with the fact that whoever you are, or wherever you are on life’s journey, you have something to give to those who are less fortunate than you.
These are hard times for all of us, for a lot of different reasons. But following our scriptures will make the world a better place. Feeding one another, welcoming one another, caring for one another, and visiting one another will improve the state of our world...and it will be serving Christ directly.
Being a Christian means being able to turn to God when things are tough. It means thanking God for even the tiniest blessings. And it means taking care of our neighbors, God’s children, remembering that they come in every color, nationality, description. They are the immigrant, the convict, the AIDS victim, the upstanding, healthy American citizen who comes to church every Sunday. Christ himself takes every form.
Let us give thanks for our blessings, for our diversity as humankind, and for our ability to help one another. Now let us pray.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Sermon 11/16/08 (Matthew 25:14-30)
“First Century Wall Street”
Matthew 25:14-30
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 16 November, 2008
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 I recently read a news story about a contractor who found more than $100,000 cash inside the walls of a house he was remodeling. During the Great Depression, a previous owner of the home had stashed the money inside the walls to keep it safe -- investing it was obviously too risky in those days.
The contractor told the current owner of the house, a friend for whom he was doing a favor, about the money, and they agreed to split it. Then somehow the story hit the news, and descendants of the home’s original owners stepped in and said that the cash was rightfully theirs. A legal battle ensued, and everyone got a little cut of the money -- the contractor, the current homeowner, the family of the original owner -- but nobody won. Perhaps most poignantly, the man who had put the money in the wall in the first place never got to use a penny of it, since he had died many years before.
I don’t have a mind for economics, but I do know that some risk is involved. If you hide your money in the wall or bury it in the ground -- like the third slave in this morning’s scripture did -- it will do nobody any good. The stock market is all about risk -- risking enough to get a return on your investment but not risking so much that you lose all your money. There is a complex science to it, which is why people hire financial advisers to figure out how to go about investing.
I also understand that during difficult economic times, like the Great Depression and like our current economic climate, people want to take as little risk as possible. As banks fail, people become more prone to hiding their money under the mattress -- or in the wall. They hoard it and don’t want to spend it anywhere, much less the stock market. Like the slave who hid his talent in the ground, they wind up with the same amount that they began with -- no less, but no more either.
The master in this morning’s gospel lesson entrusted his slaves with an enormous amount of money. It should be noted that “talents” do not refer to personal abilities. In this culture a “talent” represented an enormous amount of money, something like twenty years worth of the slaves’ normal wages. When the first two slaves doubled the talents given them by trading, we can think of this like a first century stock market. It is not known exactly how they would have doubled the money, but it is understood that they invested it, taking risks in order to improve on the initial investment. They apparently took the right risks, because they doubled their money.
The third slave, on the other hand, opted to avoid the risk. It was not unusual for people to bury money for safekeeping -- but the slave indicates that he did so not because he was afraid of the risk but because his master “was harsh and reaped what he did not sow.” There is no indication in the text that the master was harsh -- he did, after all, entrust his slaves with large sums of money -- so perhaps the third slave’s complaint was just an excuse. He may, in fact, have expected the master to be pleased with the fact that he returned the entire capital of the investment, rather than losing it on some “first century Wall Street.” But once he saw that his master was so pleased with his two risk-taking compatriots, he had to think of a quick excuse. ...The truth is, we don’t know why he really buried the money -- whether he did so out of spite, out of fear, or what. All we have is the conclusion: those who take risks may be rewarded handsomely, while those who do nothing will lose out.
In difficult economic times, the language of this scripture is difficult to hear. Even those of us who don’t do a whole lot of investing in the stock market take fewer risks when we have less money with which to take them. We are more careful with our money, and we are less trusting of banks. The illustration of taking risks when investing our money is hard to hear right now. However, we should remember that this is Jesus speaking here. He used the illustration of a master giving money to his slaves because his listeners would have understood that, but he was not saying that God won’t love us if we don’t invest in the stock market. He was telling a story to make a larger point...and what was that point? If we are not willing to take risks -- in whatever, but especially in our faith lives -- we will lose out.
Being a Christian means putting your heart on the line. It means taking all sorts of risks, from the financial to the emotional to the spiritual...even the physical. We take risks when we give our money away -- in the offering plate, to organizations, to a person on the street. Will our money truly get used to the glory of God? We take risks when we invite people to come to our church. Will we like them? (not that that is what being the church is about) Will they benefit the church? We take risks when we commit ourselves to a cause. Will our hearts be broken if it doesn’t go the way we want? We take risks when we engage in any kind of mission. What if I am physically hurt while I’m building this Habitat for Humanity house? Should I really be traveling to that part of the city or this part of the world? We take spiritual risks whenever we do anything in the service of God. Will I still feel the same way about God if this doesn’t go as planned?
First century followers of Christ took special risks. They risked being persecuted for following this countercultural rabbi. They risked their livelihoods by dropping what they were doing and following this strange man, Jesus. But their willingness to take risks meant that they would reap a tremendous reward: eternal life.
Our willingness to take risks for our faith yields that great reward too -- we are promised eternal life. This, of course, is the ultimate goal. But there are more tangible rewards as well. The money we put in the offering plate will help to make a better church. When we give money to Earl’s Place or other organizations we may be changing lives -- yes, even the pennies we put in add up. It’s true that not every single person who goes into Earl’s Place or other organizations succeeds. So, was our money wasted? No. That person had shelter and regular meals for a time.
When we ask people to come to our church, we reap the benefits of meeting wonderful children of God. Of course we “risk” inviting people who are not like us...but isn’t that the point? They, too, are children of God, and their presence among us will be a Godly thing.
When we commit ourselves to a cause, yes, we risk having our hearts broken. My sister, along with thousands of people across the country, was disillusioned when Proposition 8 passed in California. But she, along with many others, is reaping the benefits of joining together with other people who believe as she does. Even when our hearts are broken, good can arise when we join together.
I vaguely remember hitting my thumb with a hammer when I was building a Habitat for Humanity house in college. But that house now shelters a family. I’ve gone into some bad neighborhoods...but I’ve been reminded of God’s presence there in the process.
The spiritual risks are always there, whenever we put our heart on the line in the service of Christ. But the benefits follow. So I ask you, even in these difficult times -- especially in these difficult times -- to continue to take risks for your faith. The rewards will be heavenly...and earthly too.
Now let us pray.
Matthew 25:14-30
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 16 November, 2008
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 I recently read a news story about a contractor who found more than $100,000 cash inside the walls of a house he was remodeling. During the Great Depression, a previous owner of the home had stashed the money inside the walls to keep it safe -- investing it was obviously too risky in those days.
The contractor told the current owner of the house, a friend for whom he was doing a favor, about the money, and they agreed to split it. Then somehow the story hit the news, and descendants of the home’s original owners stepped in and said that the cash was rightfully theirs. A legal battle ensued, and everyone got a little cut of the money -- the contractor, the current homeowner, the family of the original owner -- but nobody won. Perhaps most poignantly, the man who had put the money in the wall in the first place never got to use a penny of it, since he had died many years before.
I don’t have a mind for economics, but I do know that some risk is involved. If you hide your money in the wall or bury it in the ground -- like the third slave in this morning’s scripture did -- it will do nobody any good. The stock market is all about risk -- risking enough to get a return on your investment but not risking so much that you lose all your money. There is a complex science to it, which is why people hire financial advisers to figure out how to go about investing.
I also understand that during difficult economic times, like the Great Depression and like our current economic climate, people want to take as little risk as possible. As banks fail, people become more prone to hiding their money under the mattress -- or in the wall. They hoard it and don’t want to spend it anywhere, much less the stock market. Like the slave who hid his talent in the ground, they wind up with the same amount that they began with -- no less, but no more either.
The master in this morning’s gospel lesson entrusted his slaves with an enormous amount of money. It should be noted that “talents” do not refer to personal abilities. In this culture a “talent” represented an enormous amount of money, something like twenty years worth of the slaves’ normal wages. When the first two slaves doubled the talents given them by trading, we can think of this like a first century stock market. It is not known exactly how they would have doubled the money, but it is understood that they invested it, taking risks in order to improve on the initial investment. They apparently took the right risks, because they doubled their money.
The third slave, on the other hand, opted to avoid the risk. It was not unusual for people to bury money for safekeeping -- but the slave indicates that he did so not because he was afraid of the risk but because his master “was harsh and reaped what he did not sow.” There is no indication in the text that the master was harsh -- he did, after all, entrust his slaves with large sums of money -- so perhaps the third slave’s complaint was just an excuse. He may, in fact, have expected the master to be pleased with the fact that he returned the entire capital of the investment, rather than losing it on some “first century Wall Street.” But once he saw that his master was so pleased with his two risk-taking compatriots, he had to think of a quick excuse. ...The truth is, we don’t know why he really buried the money -- whether he did so out of spite, out of fear, or what. All we have is the conclusion: those who take risks may be rewarded handsomely, while those who do nothing will lose out.
In difficult economic times, the language of this scripture is difficult to hear. Even those of us who don’t do a whole lot of investing in the stock market take fewer risks when we have less money with which to take them. We are more careful with our money, and we are less trusting of banks. The illustration of taking risks when investing our money is hard to hear right now. However, we should remember that this is Jesus speaking here. He used the illustration of a master giving money to his slaves because his listeners would have understood that, but he was not saying that God won’t love us if we don’t invest in the stock market. He was telling a story to make a larger point...and what was that point? If we are not willing to take risks -- in whatever, but especially in our faith lives -- we will lose out.
Being a Christian means putting your heart on the line. It means taking all sorts of risks, from the financial to the emotional to the spiritual...even the physical. We take risks when we give our money away -- in the offering plate, to organizations, to a person on the street. Will our money truly get used to the glory of God? We take risks when we invite people to come to our church. Will we like them? (not that that is what being the church is about) Will they benefit the church? We take risks when we commit ourselves to a cause. Will our hearts be broken if it doesn’t go the way we want? We take risks when we engage in any kind of mission. What if I am physically hurt while I’m building this Habitat for Humanity house? Should I really be traveling to that part of the city or this part of the world? We take spiritual risks whenever we do anything in the service of God. Will I still feel the same way about God if this doesn’t go as planned?
First century followers of Christ took special risks. They risked being persecuted for following this countercultural rabbi. They risked their livelihoods by dropping what they were doing and following this strange man, Jesus. But their willingness to take risks meant that they would reap a tremendous reward: eternal life.
Our willingness to take risks for our faith yields that great reward too -- we are promised eternal life. This, of course, is the ultimate goal. But there are more tangible rewards as well. The money we put in the offering plate will help to make a better church. When we give money to Earl’s Place or other organizations we may be changing lives -- yes, even the pennies we put in add up. It’s true that not every single person who goes into Earl’s Place or other organizations succeeds. So, was our money wasted? No. That person had shelter and regular meals for a time.
When we ask people to come to our church, we reap the benefits of meeting wonderful children of God. Of course we “risk” inviting people who are not like us...but isn’t that the point? They, too, are children of God, and their presence among us will be a Godly thing.
When we commit ourselves to a cause, yes, we risk having our hearts broken. My sister, along with thousands of people across the country, was disillusioned when Proposition 8 passed in California. But she, along with many others, is reaping the benefits of joining together with other people who believe as she does. Even when our hearts are broken, good can arise when we join together.
I vaguely remember hitting my thumb with a hammer when I was building a Habitat for Humanity house in college. But that house now shelters a family. I’ve gone into some bad neighborhoods...but I’ve been reminded of God’s presence there in the process.
The spiritual risks are always there, whenever we put our heart on the line in the service of Christ. But the benefits follow. So I ask you, even in these difficult times -- especially in these difficult times -- to continue to take risks for your faith. The rewards will be heavenly...and earthly too.
Now let us pray.
Sermon 11/09/08 (Amos 5:18-24; Matt. 25:1-13)
“Justice Flowing Like the Mississippi”
Amos 5:18-24; Matthew 25:1-13
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 9 November, 2008
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 For the past month or so I have been encouraging you to vote, and I proudly went to the polls on Tuesday morning. Then on Wednesday I read an article suggesting that Christians shouldn’t vote. What?! I have always been taught that we should vote, and I just spent weeks telling you that Christians should vote prayerfully. I almost didn’t read the article when I saw it because I thought it would be a bunch of baloney, but it actually was interesting.
One of the reasons that the article gave for not voting was that we don’t actually have much power when we vote in a presidential election. As J.T. pointed out to me after church last Sunday, the general population doesn’t actually choose the president; the electoral college does. The article suggested that until this system is changed our voting in a presidential election is just a sham. According to the article, “If voting is not a definite evil...it is at best the weakest and most ineffective form of Christian political action.” The question is also asked, “If you don’t believe in capital punishment or war, why vote to put people in positions where they will be forced, by their oath of office, to engage in them?”
Then there’s the issue of the secret ballot. Americans champion the fact that we have a secret ballot -- we are the only person who knows how we voted -- but the article points out that “Christian ethics are inherently public and communal.” Therefore, making such an important moral decision in secret goes against the Christian grain.
I still believe what I’ve been telling you for the past month, and I still believe that my vote counted for something. But this article, mixed together with some other things I read this week, and with this morning’s scriptures got me thinking. Americans had a lot banking on this year’s elections -- even more than usual, it seemed. Regardless of who won the presidency, history was in the making (and has now been made). Christians all across the spectrum were talking about “justice” and “how God created us,” with relation to gay marriage amendments and other initiatives. The fact that the United States finally has an African American president (or would have had a female vice president) is shocking justice too, especially since African Americans were granted the right to vote in 1870 and women were granted the right to vote in 1920. But are we Christians banking too much of our justice on the secular government of our country? Are we focusing too much on the “empire” of the United States rather than on the coming Empire of God?
In our Old Testament reading for this morning, the prophet Amos cries “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream.” You may recognize these words from Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. In that context, King was, of course, referring to civil rights in the United States, but in its original context the words relate to the Realm of God.
Rev. Dr. King talks about a world in which his children “will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” I certainly believe that the coming Realm, or Empire, or Kingdom of God will be such a place -- in which we are not judged by the color of our skin but by the content of our character. But people know these words of the prophet Amos more from Martin Luther King than they do from the Holy Bible.
Then there is our reading from Matthew. I have never gotten along very well with this parable. Why didn’t the bridesmaids who had more oil share with those who ran out? Doesn’t Christ usually teach us to share? In my conversations with other ministers I learned that I am not alone in wrestling with this scripture. However, I did gain some insight. In this culture, a bride’s husband-to-be was expected to build her a house before their wedding. The wedding would take place at a moment’s notice, when the house was ready, and the guests had to be prepared. It was the responsibility of the bridesmaids to guide the wedding party from the bride’s home to the location of the wedding. If the wise women shared their oil with the foolish women, then the wise women may not have had enough oil either, and they all would have run out of oil on their way to the wedding feast. They weren’t being mean; they were making sure that there would be enough light for the journey.
Of course, Jesus is not simply warning his listeners to be ready for a wedding. The bridesmaids represent the faithful (i.e., us), and the “bridegroom” is Christ himself. We are to be always prepared for Christ’s return, and for the Kingdom, or the Empire of God.
In the second article I read this Wednesday, UCC pastor Andrew Warner referred to this Gospel parable and said that American Christians tend to “put too much power in the hands of the president and too little in Jesus.” He pointed out that we tend to use a great deal of eschatalogical language in politics -- we act like presidents and prime ministers have as much to do with the “end times” as Jesus Christ. In making his point he quoted Ronald Reagan, in a campaign speech from 1979: “Someone once said that the difference between an American and any other kind of person is that an American lives in anticipation of the future because he knows it will be a great place.” I am sure Reagan’s listeners cheered when they heard his words, just as crowds cheered when they heard the promises for a new world made by Barack Obama and John McCain. But are we cheering for the wrong things and waiting for the wrong tomorrow? That is, do we cheer as loudly when we hear Jesus talking about “anticipation of the future” (being ready) “because we know it will be a great place?” Do we cheer as loud when we hear the prophet Amos (not just as he is quoted by Martin Luther King, Jr.), crying out for “justice [to] roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream”?
I never liked the tone of this morning’s parable. But Rev. Warner reminded me that Jesus spoke of the ten bridesmaids as he was preparing for a night shortly before his crucifixion, when his own disciples would be separated into the wise and the foolish. The grand speeches of our politicians are often given as they are beginning their “reign” -- they are preparing for a “bright new world” under their own leadership. The Empire of God, on the other hand, will only be met after tremendous trials -- Amos warns that the day of the Lord “is darkness, not light; as if someone fled from a lion, and was met by a bear; or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall, and was bitten by a snake.” (Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?)
Like many Americans, I am hopeful about the next four years. I think most Americans, including our current President Bush, are ready for a change. I am also heartbroken that gay marriage amendments passed in three states. This is not justice. But I also need to remind myself that the American government is not the be all and end all of my life as a Christian. The “great new world” that I am hoping for will not be found in the next four years under the leadership of Barack Obama or John McCain or anybody else. It will be found in the Empire of God, under the leadership of Jesus Christ.
Now let us pray.
Amos 5:18-24; Matthew 25:1-13
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 9 November, 2008
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 For the past month or so I have been encouraging you to vote, and I proudly went to the polls on Tuesday morning. Then on Wednesday I read an article suggesting that Christians shouldn’t vote. What?! I have always been taught that we should vote, and I just spent weeks telling you that Christians should vote prayerfully. I almost didn’t read the article when I saw it because I thought it would be a bunch of baloney, but it actually was interesting.
One of the reasons that the article gave for not voting was that we don’t actually have much power when we vote in a presidential election. As J.T. pointed out to me after church last Sunday, the general population doesn’t actually choose the president; the electoral college does. The article suggested that until this system is changed our voting in a presidential election is just a sham. According to the article, “If voting is not a definite evil...it is at best the weakest and most ineffective form of Christian political action.” The question is also asked, “If you don’t believe in capital punishment or war, why vote to put people in positions where they will be forced, by their oath of office, to engage in them?”
Then there’s the issue of the secret ballot. Americans champion the fact that we have a secret ballot -- we are the only person who knows how we voted -- but the article points out that “Christian ethics are inherently public and communal.” Therefore, making such an important moral decision in secret goes against the Christian grain.
I still believe what I’ve been telling you for the past month, and I still believe that my vote counted for something. But this article, mixed together with some other things I read this week, and with this morning’s scriptures got me thinking. Americans had a lot banking on this year’s elections -- even more than usual, it seemed. Regardless of who won the presidency, history was in the making (and has now been made). Christians all across the spectrum were talking about “justice” and “how God created us,” with relation to gay marriage amendments and other initiatives. The fact that the United States finally has an African American president (or would have had a female vice president) is shocking justice too, especially since African Americans were granted the right to vote in 1870 and women were granted the right to vote in 1920. But are we Christians banking too much of our justice on the secular government of our country? Are we focusing too much on the “empire” of the United States rather than on the coming Empire of God?
In our Old Testament reading for this morning, the prophet Amos cries “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream.” You may recognize these words from Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. In that context, King was, of course, referring to civil rights in the United States, but in its original context the words relate to the Realm of God.
Rev. Dr. King talks about a world in which his children “will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” I certainly believe that the coming Realm, or Empire, or Kingdom of God will be such a place -- in which we are not judged by the color of our skin but by the content of our character. But people know these words of the prophet Amos more from Martin Luther King than they do from the Holy Bible.
Then there is our reading from Matthew. I have never gotten along very well with this parable. Why didn’t the bridesmaids who had more oil share with those who ran out? Doesn’t Christ usually teach us to share? In my conversations with other ministers I learned that I am not alone in wrestling with this scripture. However, I did gain some insight. In this culture, a bride’s husband-to-be was expected to build her a house before their wedding. The wedding would take place at a moment’s notice, when the house was ready, and the guests had to be prepared. It was the responsibility of the bridesmaids to guide the wedding party from the bride’s home to the location of the wedding. If the wise women shared their oil with the foolish women, then the wise women may not have had enough oil either, and they all would have run out of oil on their way to the wedding feast. They weren’t being mean; they were making sure that there would be enough light for the journey.
Of course, Jesus is not simply warning his listeners to be ready for a wedding. The bridesmaids represent the faithful (i.e., us), and the “bridegroom” is Christ himself. We are to be always prepared for Christ’s return, and for the Kingdom, or the Empire of God.
In the second article I read this Wednesday, UCC pastor Andrew Warner referred to this Gospel parable and said that American Christians tend to “put too much power in the hands of the president and too little in Jesus.” He pointed out that we tend to use a great deal of eschatalogical language in politics -- we act like presidents and prime ministers have as much to do with the “end times” as Jesus Christ. In making his point he quoted Ronald Reagan, in a campaign speech from 1979: “Someone once said that the difference between an American and any other kind of person is that an American lives in anticipation of the future because he knows it will be a great place.” I am sure Reagan’s listeners cheered when they heard his words, just as crowds cheered when they heard the promises for a new world made by Barack Obama and John McCain. But are we cheering for the wrong things and waiting for the wrong tomorrow? That is, do we cheer as loudly when we hear Jesus talking about “anticipation of the future” (being ready) “because we know it will be a great place?” Do we cheer as loud when we hear the prophet Amos (not just as he is quoted by Martin Luther King, Jr.), crying out for “justice [to] roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream”?
I never liked the tone of this morning’s parable. But Rev. Warner reminded me that Jesus spoke of the ten bridesmaids as he was preparing for a night shortly before his crucifixion, when his own disciples would be separated into the wise and the foolish. The grand speeches of our politicians are often given as they are beginning their “reign” -- they are preparing for a “bright new world” under their own leadership. The Empire of God, on the other hand, will only be met after tremendous trials -- Amos warns that the day of the Lord “is darkness, not light; as if someone fled from a lion, and was met by a bear; or went into the house and rested a hand against the wall, and was bitten by a snake.” (Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?)
Like many Americans, I am hopeful about the next four years. I think most Americans, including our current President Bush, are ready for a change. I am also heartbroken that gay marriage amendments passed in three states. This is not justice. But I also need to remind myself that the American government is not the be all and end all of my life as a Christian. The “great new world” that I am hoping for will not be found in the next four years under the leadership of Barack Obama or John McCain or anybody else. It will be found in the Empire of God, under the leadership of Jesus Christ.
Now let us pray.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Sermon 11/02/08 (Matt. 5:1-12; Rev. 7:9-17)
“Not Such Glorious Saints”
Matthew 5:1-12; Revelation 7:9-17
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 2 November, 2008
All Saints’ Sunday
----
 What do we know about “inheritance”? Well, often the word is used to describe money or goods that are passed down from family member to family member. For example, I inherited a bunch of pots and pans from my Great Aunt Mart, and Ben inherited a toaster oven from his parents. Paris and Nicky Hilton will inherit millions (maybe billions) of dollars from the Hilton hotel business. Sometimes inheritance is used to describe certain physical traits or personality characteristics that show themselves throughout a family. For example, “She inherited her mother’s long legs,” or “He inherited his father’s sharp temper.” My dictionary defines “inherit” as: (1.) To come into possession of; (2.) To receive property from a person by legal succession or will; or (3) To receive genetically from an ancestor. So inheritance has something to do with things being passed down from one person to another, usually within a family, and often after death.
Inheritance, in these terms, frequently causes problems. I have known happy families who have been torn apart fighting over inherited goods after a loved one dies. Offspring contest the wills that their parents carefully prepared, and spouses or siblings argue that surely they should receive a better cut of the inheritance! Inheritance, in these terms, has the potential to become nothing but a mess. But it can be a blessing too. I think of my Great Aunt Mart every time I use the pots and pans or the jacket that I inherited after her death. I never knew my grandmother, but I rejoice in the physical characteristics of hers that I inherited, as made clear by photographs or stories that my parents tell me.
On All Saints’ Day we have the opportunity to think more deeply about what we have inherited from our departed loved ones, as we mourn their deaths. Yes, this is what we do in funerals or memorial services too. But anyone who has ever grieved knows that grief does not end the moment you leave the cemetery, and it is important to set aside times to express the grief we continue to feel. There is something special about sharing our grief collectively with one another too. This past year I lost two “grandparents.” You may have lost a sister, a spouse, or even a beloved pet. But the grief we feel is essentially the same, and there is something holy about recognizing it together, in one place. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
So, too, is it important to recognize together all that we have inherited from those who have come before us. We are not speaking primarily here of inheriting brown eyes, long legs, or even pots and pans, although those things may be important to us. We are not even only talking about loved ones we knew personally. We are speaking of the long line of people who showed us how to make the world a better place -- whether they were our Aunt Mart or some glorious saint celebrated throughout history. From these people -- all faithful Christians who have come before us -- we have inherited not only the stories of our Bible, but also the examples of early, and more recent, followers of Christ.
On the more glorious end of things, we have, for example, the 16th century mystics, John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. Saints John and Teresa worked together to found the Carmelite order, and Teresa is known not only for her deeply spiritual writings but also for her leadership as a woman in the Medieval Church.
We have Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, who came to the United States in the 18th century and became a pioneer in health care. She serves as a namesake for many healthcare facilities today, including the hospital where I served as chaplain resident several years ago.
And, while we Protestants may not be familiar with some of these “Catholic examples,” I would venture that most of us are willing to embrace the legacy of Mother Teresa of our own time. Committed to working within the poorest segments of society, Mother Teresa proved herself a 20th century saint through her dedication, her faith, and her sense of humor.
There are many more whose life examples have hopefully given us inspiration and from whom many young people continue to inherit the legacies of faith and good works. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor who risked his life to resist Nazism and embrace his Jewish brothers and sisters. Rosa Parks, who, through her quiet decision to rest her tired legs at the front end of a bus, inspired many to resist segregation and fight for civil rights in this country. Sister Helen Prejean, who works with both the perpetrators of violent crime and with their victims. We have inherited much from these well-known saints.
But sainthood, as we are speaking of it here, is not limited to persons who have volumes written about their lives and whose veneration the whole world will uphold for centuries following their deaths. How many of you know, or have known, saints whose good deeds are perhaps known only to you? A parent from whom you inherited a particular care for the environment? A good friend whose strength empowered you? ... A stranger?
I still recall a young man I met several years ago. We met on a Friday night. My aunt (the same great aunt from whom I inherited those pots and pans) died two days later, and the young man I had met that Friday called just to say hello. When I told him my aunt had just died, he left the party he was attending and came to my house to comfort me. We saw each other a few times after that, but I will never forget his sudden kindness on that night.
These are the saints, and the inheritance, of the church, and these are the ones we are called to remember on All Saint’s Day. They may not be glorious in the same way that an officially canonized saint of the church is. But they are saints in the eyes of God just the same. On All Saints Day we are called to bring forth the memories of these loved ones who have died, or who are no longer in our lives -- those who, through their presence with us over many years or only a few moments, strengthened our faith and taught us the legacy of Christ’s compassion. These are the ones from whom we obtain a holy inheritance. Let us remember to give thanks not only to the persons themselves, but to the God who gave them to us. Now let us pray.
Matthew 5:1-12; Revelation 7:9-17
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 2 November, 2008
All Saints’ Sunday
----
 What do we know about “inheritance”? Well, often the word is used to describe money or goods that are passed down from family member to family member. For example, I inherited a bunch of pots and pans from my Great Aunt Mart, and Ben inherited a toaster oven from his parents. Paris and Nicky Hilton will inherit millions (maybe billions) of dollars from the Hilton hotel business. Sometimes inheritance is used to describe certain physical traits or personality characteristics that show themselves throughout a family. For example, “She inherited her mother’s long legs,” or “He inherited his father’s sharp temper.” My dictionary defines “inherit” as: (1.) To come into possession of; (2.) To receive property from a person by legal succession or will; or (3) To receive genetically from an ancestor. So inheritance has something to do with things being passed down from one person to another, usually within a family, and often after death.
Inheritance, in these terms, frequently causes problems. I have known happy families who have been torn apart fighting over inherited goods after a loved one dies. Offspring contest the wills that their parents carefully prepared, and spouses or siblings argue that surely they should receive a better cut of the inheritance! Inheritance, in these terms, has the potential to become nothing but a mess. But it can be a blessing too. I think of my Great Aunt Mart every time I use the pots and pans or the jacket that I inherited after her death. I never knew my grandmother, but I rejoice in the physical characteristics of hers that I inherited, as made clear by photographs or stories that my parents tell me.
On All Saints’ Day we have the opportunity to think more deeply about what we have inherited from our departed loved ones, as we mourn their deaths. Yes, this is what we do in funerals or memorial services too. But anyone who has ever grieved knows that grief does not end the moment you leave the cemetery, and it is important to set aside times to express the grief we continue to feel. There is something special about sharing our grief collectively with one another too. This past year I lost two “grandparents.” You may have lost a sister, a spouse, or even a beloved pet. But the grief we feel is essentially the same, and there is something holy about recognizing it together, in one place. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
So, too, is it important to recognize together all that we have inherited from those who have come before us. We are not speaking primarily here of inheriting brown eyes, long legs, or even pots and pans, although those things may be important to us. We are not even only talking about loved ones we knew personally. We are speaking of the long line of people who showed us how to make the world a better place -- whether they were our Aunt Mart or some glorious saint celebrated throughout history. From these people -- all faithful Christians who have come before us -- we have inherited not only the stories of our Bible, but also the examples of early, and more recent, followers of Christ.
On the more glorious end of things, we have, for example, the 16th century mystics, John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. Saints John and Teresa worked together to found the Carmelite order, and Teresa is known not only for her deeply spiritual writings but also for her leadership as a woman in the Medieval Church.
We have Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, who came to the United States in the 18th century and became a pioneer in health care. She serves as a namesake for many healthcare facilities today, including the hospital where I served as chaplain resident several years ago.
And, while we Protestants may not be familiar with some of these “Catholic examples,” I would venture that most of us are willing to embrace the legacy of Mother Teresa of our own time. Committed to working within the poorest segments of society, Mother Teresa proved herself a 20th century saint through her dedication, her faith, and her sense of humor.
There are many more whose life examples have hopefully given us inspiration and from whom many young people continue to inherit the legacies of faith and good works. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Lutheran pastor who risked his life to resist Nazism and embrace his Jewish brothers and sisters. Rosa Parks, who, through her quiet decision to rest her tired legs at the front end of a bus, inspired many to resist segregation and fight for civil rights in this country. Sister Helen Prejean, who works with both the perpetrators of violent crime and with their victims. We have inherited much from these well-known saints.
But sainthood, as we are speaking of it here, is not limited to persons who have volumes written about their lives and whose veneration the whole world will uphold for centuries following their deaths. How many of you know, or have known, saints whose good deeds are perhaps known only to you? A parent from whom you inherited a particular care for the environment? A good friend whose strength empowered you? ... A stranger?
I still recall a young man I met several years ago. We met on a Friday night. My aunt (the same great aunt from whom I inherited those pots and pans) died two days later, and the young man I had met that Friday called just to say hello. When I told him my aunt had just died, he left the party he was attending and came to my house to comfort me. We saw each other a few times after that, but I will never forget his sudden kindness on that night.
These are the saints, and the inheritance, of the church, and these are the ones we are called to remember on All Saint’s Day. They may not be glorious in the same way that an officially canonized saint of the church is. But they are saints in the eyes of God just the same. On All Saints Day we are called to bring forth the memories of these loved ones who have died, or who are no longer in our lives -- those who, through their presence with us over many years or only a few moments, strengthened our faith and taught us the legacy of Christ’s compassion. These are the ones from whom we obtain a holy inheritance. Let us remember to give thanks not only to the persons themselves, but to the God who gave them to us. Now let us pray.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Sermon 10/26/08 (Matthew 23:1-12)
“Good Words and Bad Behavior”
Matthew 23:1-12
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 26 October, 2008
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 Yesterday I received my official sample ballot in the mail, in preparation for the November 4th elections. In case you haven’t gotten yours yet, the sample ballot has all of the ballot initiatives on it, just like the real ballot will, and it has some facts about the Maryland slots amendment and the voter’s rights amendment.
It was really refreshing to get this dry-as-bones, just-the-facts mailing. It’s the first information I’ve seen in months that is actually impartial! At this point in the election season, it seems like every other piece of “information” out there is strongly biased one way or the other. There are the political ads, which spend more time complaining about the opponent or about how terrible things will be if we don’t vote for this particular thing than they do expounding on the benefits of a candidate or ballot initiative. There are the emails I get from one organization or another. The prerecorded phone calls. Even the “news” stories are biased -- they often tell just one side of the story. I really feel for those people who have not yet made a decision about how they are going to vote, as it is nearly impossible to find plain facts now, amidst all of the information being spewn in the public’s direction.
I am grateful that the elections will be over in a few weeks. Then we will get to live with the results of our votes. If you believe the ads, wonderful changes await us if we vote the “right” way! The presidential candidates promise a better America and a better world. The Maryland candidates and the supporters of the slots initiative promise a better Maryland. I can’t wait until we enter into this great new world where all our troubles will disappear!
And Jesus said, “...Therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.”
The problem with political campaigns is that it is simply impossible for the candidate to keep all of his or her promises once in office. I do have hope and I do believe in the voting process, but I also know from experience that even the best-meaning politician will say more wonderful things than he or she will actually do.
There’s the humility factor too -- or lack thereof. In the words of Jesus: “They do all their deeds to be seen by others.” It’s the nature of a political campaign to puff oneself up as the savior of a nation. Candidates don’t win by being self-deprecating. Sure, it helps to have famous supporters speak up, so the candidate himself isn’t the only one saying how great he is, but there has to be a fair bit of self-promotion too. The candidate has to say that she is better than her opponent.
Then there’s the servant leadership aspect. Jesus said “The greatest among you will be your servant.” Our national leaders do actually try to stick to this one. President John F. Kennedy said, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” Of course, when our modern leaders make statements about “serving the American people” they don’t always come across as particularly humble themselves.
So, basically, this morning’s entire gospel lesson could be about American politicians -- their falsehoods, their lack of humility, how they use the concept of “servant leadership” to their own benefit. ...Americans love complaining about politics -- just watch one political ad or see one news story -- and I could direct this entire sermon at “them,” those “horrible” politicians! ...I think you know me better than that, though.
It is so easy to blame other people for our problems, especially when those people have more power than we do. We blame politicians (Liars!), we blame celebrities (Think they’re better than everyone else!)...we even blame preachers (What kind of humble servant wears a $3,000 suit?!). Jesus was talking about rabbis here, and there certainly are some less than humble clergy. But we spend so much time blaming other people that we fail to notice our own failures. (In Jesus’ words, we spend a great deal of time examining the speck in our neighbor’s eye but fail to see the log in our own.) Jesus wasn’t just addressing powerful people here. He was using power-abusing rabbis as an example, but in Matthew’s gospel he was addressing the crowds and his disciples. He was essentially speaking to his Church and its leaders. He was talking, in our modern terms, to the church council, other folks who hold leadership roles, and everyone in the pews. He was -- and is -- warning us all against arrogance and self-exaltation.
As written in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus was specifically referring to arrogance over one’s role as a church leader. But his message can easily be expanded to all areas of life. In these days, church leadership does not carry the weight it once did -- and anyway, our own council president, Alta Horn, does not have an arrogant bone in her body. But there may well be other areas of our lives in which we do not practice what we preach either, in which we like to be called by a fancy title, and in which we believe that we are better than everybody else.
This is something we must all watch carefully. There is nothing wrong with finding success in our careers, but it is easy, then to say, “I have money in my pocket, so I’m better than that person down the street who can’t afford to feed his kids.”
Humility is hard to live by, even in difficult times. We have been speaking a lot about the financial crisis lately, and it may seem obvious that losing one’s job or home would be a humbling experience. But we have to be careful that if we fall into that terribly unfortunate position we do not begin to believe that we are better than “all those snobby people who think they have it all.” Even when our lives are falling apart we find ways to believe that we are better than our neighbor.
The truth is, Jesus Christ has called us to a life of humility no matter what our circumstances. The majority of people in the crowds to whom he spoke were not privileged -- even his disciples were fisherman who lived from day to day. Christ’s earliest followers were persecuted for their beliefs -- they were not in a position of power. Yet Jesus called even these struggling people to a life of humble servanthood. He called on them to remember that they had one parent, their God in Heaven, and one teacher, Jesus himself. Jesus has called us to a life of service, whether we are running for President of the United States or whether we are a homeless person who sees another homeless person in greater need than we are.
As you go about your daily tasks, be ever mindful of where your heart is. Are you looking at the person you’re serving across the counter and thinking: “I’m better than him?” Are you thinking to yourself, “Gee, I sure like being called Reverend...or Doctor...[or whatever title you use]? Do I misuse my title or my position?” Are you saying one thing but doing another? And are you living a life of servanthood?
Following Christ is not easy. Putting God before everything else is hard in our busy world. We will make mistakes. That’s the nature of being humans. But a world in which people go out of their way to serve one another -- in which love for neighbor outweighs self-pride -- will draw us closer to the realm of God.
Now let us pray.
Matthew 23:1-12
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 26 October, 2008
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 Yesterday I received my official sample ballot in the mail, in preparation for the November 4th elections. In case you haven’t gotten yours yet, the sample ballot has all of the ballot initiatives on it, just like the real ballot will, and it has some facts about the Maryland slots amendment and the voter’s rights amendment.
It was really refreshing to get this dry-as-bones, just-the-facts mailing. It’s the first information I’ve seen in months that is actually impartial! At this point in the election season, it seems like every other piece of “information” out there is strongly biased one way or the other. There are the political ads, which spend more time complaining about the opponent or about how terrible things will be if we don’t vote for this particular thing than they do expounding on the benefits of a candidate or ballot initiative. There are the emails I get from one organization or another. The prerecorded phone calls. Even the “news” stories are biased -- they often tell just one side of the story. I really feel for those people who have not yet made a decision about how they are going to vote, as it is nearly impossible to find plain facts now, amidst all of the information being spewn in the public’s direction.
I am grateful that the elections will be over in a few weeks. Then we will get to live with the results of our votes. If you believe the ads, wonderful changes await us if we vote the “right” way! The presidential candidates promise a better America and a better world. The Maryland candidates and the supporters of the slots initiative promise a better Maryland. I can’t wait until we enter into this great new world where all our troubles will disappear!
And Jesus said, “...Therefore, do whatever they teach you and follow it; but do not do as they do, for they do not practice what they teach.”
The problem with political campaigns is that it is simply impossible for the candidate to keep all of his or her promises once in office. I do have hope and I do believe in the voting process, but I also know from experience that even the best-meaning politician will say more wonderful things than he or she will actually do.
There’s the humility factor too -- or lack thereof. In the words of Jesus: “They do all their deeds to be seen by others.” It’s the nature of a political campaign to puff oneself up as the savior of a nation. Candidates don’t win by being self-deprecating. Sure, it helps to have famous supporters speak up, so the candidate himself isn’t the only one saying how great he is, but there has to be a fair bit of self-promotion too. The candidate has to say that she is better than her opponent.
Then there’s the servant leadership aspect. Jesus said “The greatest among you will be your servant.” Our national leaders do actually try to stick to this one. President John F. Kennedy said, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” Of course, when our modern leaders make statements about “serving the American people” they don’t always come across as particularly humble themselves.
So, basically, this morning’s entire gospel lesson could be about American politicians -- their falsehoods, their lack of humility, how they use the concept of “servant leadership” to their own benefit. ...Americans love complaining about politics -- just watch one political ad or see one news story -- and I could direct this entire sermon at “them,” those “horrible” politicians! ...I think you know me better than that, though.
It is so easy to blame other people for our problems, especially when those people have more power than we do. We blame politicians (Liars!), we blame celebrities (Think they’re better than everyone else!)...we even blame preachers (What kind of humble servant wears a $3,000 suit?!). Jesus was talking about rabbis here, and there certainly are some less than humble clergy. But we spend so much time blaming other people that we fail to notice our own failures. (In Jesus’ words, we spend a great deal of time examining the speck in our neighbor’s eye but fail to see the log in our own.) Jesus wasn’t just addressing powerful people here. He was using power-abusing rabbis as an example, but in Matthew’s gospel he was addressing the crowds and his disciples. He was essentially speaking to his Church and its leaders. He was talking, in our modern terms, to the church council, other folks who hold leadership roles, and everyone in the pews. He was -- and is -- warning us all against arrogance and self-exaltation.
As written in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus was specifically referring to arrogance over one’s role as a church leader. But his message can easily be expanded to all areas of life. In these days, church leadership does not carry the weight it once did -- and anyway, our own council president, Alta Horn, does not have an arrogant bone in her body. But there may well be other areas of our lives in which we do not practice what we preach either, in which we like to be called by a fancy title, and in which we believe that we are better than everybody else.
This is something we must all watch carefully. There is nothing wrong with finding success in our careers, but it is easy, then to say, “I have money in my pocket, so I’m better than that person down the street who can’t afford to feed his kids.”
Humility is hard to live by, even in difficult times. We have been speaking a lot about the financial crisis lately, and it may seem obvious that losing one’s job or home would be a humbling experience. But we have to be careful that if we fall into that terribly unfortunate position we do not begin to believe that we are better than “all those snobby people who think they have it all.” Even when our lives are falling apart we find ways to believe that we are better than our neighbor.
The truth is, Jesus Christ has called us to a life of humility no matter what our circumstances. The majority of people in the crowds to whom he spoke were not privileged -- even his disciples were fisherman who lived from day to day. Christ’s earliest followers were persecuted for their beliefs -- they were not in a position of power. Yet Jesus called even these struggling people to a life of humble servanthood. He called on them to remember that they had one parent, their God in Heaven, and one teacher, Jesus himself. Jesus has called us to a life of service, whether we are running for President of the United States or whether we are a homeless person who sees another homeless person in greater need than we are.
As you go about your daily tasks, be ever mindful of where your heart is. Are you looking at the person you’re serving across the counter and thinking: “I’m better than him?” Are you thinking to yourself, “Gee, I sure like being called Reverend...or Doctor...[or whatever title you use]? Do I misuse my title or my position?” Are you saying one thing but doing another? And are you living a life of servanthood?
Following Christ is not easy. Putting God before everything else is hard in our busy world. We will make mistakes. That’s the nature of being humans. But a world in which people go out of their way to serve one another -- in which love for neighbor outweighs self-pride -- will draw us closer to the realm of God.
Now let us pray.
Sermon 10/19/08 (Matthew 22:15-22)
“Everything Belongs to God”
Matthew 22:15-22
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 19 October, 2008
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 According to the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” This statement has evolved in the American psyche as “separation of church and state,” and we have tended to interpret the concept to fit our own ends. If we believe that the government is infringing on our religious rights, by gosh, we’ll say something about it! (For example, the pastor from Minnesota who recently endorsed a presidential candidate, in defiance of IRS rules for tax exempt churches.) If we feel that the government is trying to violate the anti-establishment cause, then by golly, we’ll speak up! (For example, the many recent court cases protesting the display of the Ten Commandments and other religious memorabilia on public property.)
I believe in the separation of church and state, in part because of the tragedies that have occurred when government and religion have tried to mix too closely. Whether the Church gains too much political power -- the Crusades of the Middle Ages are an example -- or whether the state takes over the Church -- in Soviet Russia, for example, when churches were destroyed and atheism became the state “religion” -- government tends not to mix well with religion.
At first glance, Jesus seems to be espousing a similar philosophy of church vs. state. “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” A clear separation of church and state, right? ...Well, not exactly. The Pharisees and Herodians asked him a trick question and, as usual, Jesus responded with a trick answer.
The Pharisees and Herodians were trying to catch Jesus in a bind, you see. How should he answer their question about paying taxes? If he said, “No, we shouldn’t pay taxes to the emperor” the Pharisees could report him to the Roman authorities. But if he said, “Yes, we should pay taxes” they could accuse him of selling out. Jesus was, after all, revered as the Son of David and some believed he would usher in a new earthly realm, greater even than that of King David. If Jesus was going to be the new king, how could he insist on paying taxes to the current emperor, his perceived rival? But, of course, Roman authorities wouldn’t like the idea of someone trying to usurp the power of the Roman emperor, the caesar. So, trick question.
Our crafty Jesus was used to trick questions, and he was also perfectly capable of providing trick answers. “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s” does not simply mean “pay the IRS and put money in the offering plate too.” When Jesus asked to see the kind of coin used to pay the emperor he was pointing out that the denarius had a picture of the emperor on it. Jewish law prohibits the use of any graven image, so Jewish coins did not have pictures on them. Jesus was basically saying that the Roman coins were worth nothing. In other words, everything belongs to God.
Jesus is saying that God should take precedence over everything else. But is this how we live and act? Despite the First Amendment, church and state tend to get mixed together a fair bit in this country, and we certainly don’t always put God first. Scholar Stanley Hauerwas comments that the Pharisees and Herodians were shocked at Jesus’ answer, but we modern Christians don’t express much amazement at this idea that Jesus has come to usher in God’s reign. We don’t express much amazement about God at all, in fact. Brent Laytham and Michele Clifton-Soderstrom point out that, “We use a passage like today’s to justify living in a kingdom that divides faith and citizenship, and rendering unto each whatever ‘due’ we decide fits at the moment.” According to them “this is a losing proposition.”1
We get caught up with politics and with world leaders and with “the economy” and with a million other things. We get angry about these things, excited about these things, overwhelmed by these things...but we separate our strong feelings about them from our church life. Church is a place we go on Sunday morning, where we hear some prayers and eat some snacks and put in the offering plate what’s left over after gas money and taxes and the cable bill. Church is church, politics is politics, and never the twain shall meet.
Jesus tells us that we’re wrong to make such distinctions. Everything is about God. ...I will repeat that I believe in the separation of church and state, and it is not that sort of separation that Jesus is refuting here. Government has no place in religion, and the Church has no place in government. They are two separate entities. But they are not equal. For those of us who follow Christ, God should be central to everything we do. If we are involved in politics, we should be involved because we believe in God. When we go to the polls on November 4, we should vote for a presidential candidate only after praying about it. We should vote on the Maryland slots initiative based on where we believe Christ would stand on the issue.
Then there’s the economy. In recent weeks I have heard several churches talk about giving their parishioners “a break” from the special offering this month or even from Our Church’s Wider Mission (OCWM), the main fund that supports UCC ministries. People are worried about finances -- why should we pester them with talk of stewardship?! Now, what do you think Jesus’ response would be to that? Certainly, Jesus cares for the hungry and destitute, and if it is literally a matter between providing food for your children today and putting money in the offering plate, choosing to feed your children is a righteous decision. But remember, in today’s scripture Jesus indicates that everything belongs to God. That means that a time of economic crisis is just as good as any for talking about stewardship. This is, in fact, precisely the time to talk about stewardship, because a lot of the money we put in the offering plate supports those who are less fortunate than we are. Our gifts to Neighbors in Need and the money St. Mark’s sends to OCWM will serve people who are worse off than we may ever be.
Everything that we have belongs to God. Pay your bills, yes. Buy groceries and necessities. Pay your taxes (some of that money helps the less fortunate too). We do have to live in this modern world. But do not toss a few coins in the offering plate as an afterthought. If we are to follow the teachings of Jesus, our offerings to God will come first, and our involvement in the world will be based upon our belief in the truth of the Gospel. Faith is time-consuming, it is expensive, it can be exhausting...and isn’t it worth it?
Now let us pray.
---
1 Laytham, Brent and Michele Clifton-Soderstrom, “Render Unto God,” Blogging Toward Sunday, 10.13.08. Theolog: The Blog of the Christian Century, http://www.theolog.org/, accessed on 18 October, 2008.
Matthew 22:15-22
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 19 October, 2008
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 According to the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” This statement has evolved in the American psyche as “separation of church and state,” and we have tended to interpret the concept to fit our own ends. If we believe that the government is infringing on our religious rights, by gosh, we’ll say something about it! (For example, the pastor from Minnesota who recently endorsed a presidential candidate, in defiance of IRS rules for tax exempt churches.) If we feel that the government is trying to violate the anti-establishment cause, then by golly, we’ll speak up! (For example, the many recent court cases protesting the display of the Ten Commandments and other religious memorabilia on public property.)
I believe in the separation of church and state, in part because of the tragedies that have occurred when government and religion have tried to mix too closely. Whether the Church gains too much political power -- the Crusades of the Middle Ages are an example -- or whether the state takes over the Church -- in Soviet Russia, for example, when churches were destroyed and atheism became the state “religion” -- government tends not to mix well with religion.
At first glance, Jesus seems to be espousing a similar philosophy of church vs. state. “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” A clear separation of church and state, right? ...Well, not exactly. The Pharisees and Herodians asked him a trick question and, as usual, Jesus responded with a trick answer.
The Pharisees and Herodians were trying to catch Jesus in a bind, you see. How should he answer their question about paying taxes? If he said, “No, we shouldn’t pay taxes to the emperor” the Pharisees could report him to the Roman authorities. But if he said, “Yes, we should pay taxes” they could accuse him of selling out. Jesus was, after all, revered as the Son of David and some believed he would usher in a new earthly realm, greater even than that of King David. If Jesus was going to be the new king, how could he insist on paying taxes to the current emperor, his perceived rival? But, of course, Roman authorities wouldn’t like the idea of someone trying to usurp the power of the Roman emperor, the caesar. So, trick question.
Our crafty Jesus was used to trick questions, and he was also perfectly capable of providing trick answers. “Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s” does not simply mean “pay the IRS and put money in the offering plate too.” When Jesus asked to see the kind of coin used to pay the emperor he was pointing out that the denarius had a picture of the emperor on it. Jewish law prohibits the use of any graven image, so Jewish coins did not have pictures on them. Jesus was basically saying that the Roman coins were worth nothing. In other words, everything belongs to God.
Jesus is saying that God should take precedence over everything else. But is this how we live and act? Despite the First Amendment, church and state tend to get mixed together a fair bit in this country, and we certainly don’t always put God first. Scholar Stanley Hauerwas comments that the Pharisees and Herodians were shocked at Jesus’ answer, but we modern Christians don’t express much amazement at this idea that Jesus has come to usher in God’s reign. We don’t express much amazement about God at all, in fact. Brent Laytham and Michele Clifton-Soderstrom point out that, “We use a passage like today’s to justify living in a kingdom that divides faith and citizenship, and rendering unto each whatever ‘due’ we decide fits at the moment.” According to them “this is a losing proposition.”1
We get caught up with politics and with world leaders and with “the economy” and with a million other things. We get angry about these things, excited about these things, overwhelmed by these things...but we separate our strong feelings about them from our church life. Church is a place we go on Sunday morning, where we hear some prayers and eat some snacks and put in the offering plate what’s left over after gas money and taxes and the cable bill. Church is church, politics is politics, and never the twain shall meet.
Jesus tells us that we’re wrong to make such distinctions. Everything is about God. ...I will repeat that I believe in the separation of church and state, and it is not that sort of separation that Jesus is refuting here. Government has no place in religion, and the Church has no place in government. They are two separate entities. But they are not equal. For those of us who follow Christ, God should be central to everything we do. If we are involved in politics, we should be involved because we believe in God. When we go to the polls on November 4, we should vote for a presidential candidate only after praying about it. We should vote on the Maryland slots initiative based on where we believe Christ would stand on the issue.
Then there’s the economy. In recent weeks I have heard several churches talk about giving their parishioners “a break” from the special offering this month or even from Our Church’s Wider Mission (OCWM), the main fund that supports UCC ministries. People are worried about finances -- why should we pester them with talk of stewardship?! Now, what do you think Jesus’ response would be to that? Certainly, Jesus cares for the hungry and destitute, and if it is literally a matter between providing food for your children today and putting money in the offering plate, choosing to feed your children is a righteous decision. But remember, in today’s scripture Jesus indicates that everything belongs to God. That means that a time of economic crisis is just as good as any for talking about stewardship. This is, in fact, precisely the time to talk about stewardship, because a lot of the money we put in the offering plate supports those who are less fortunate than we are. Our gifts to Neighbors in Need and the money St. Mark’s sends to OCWM will serve people who are worse off than we may ever be.
Everything that we have belongs to God. Pay your bills, yes. Buy groceries and necessities. Pay your taxes (some of that money helps the less fortunate too). We do have to live in this modern world. But do not toss a few coins in the offering plate as an afterthought. If we are to follow the teachings of Jesus, our offerings to God will come first, and our involvement in the world will be based upon our belief in the truth of the Gospel. Faith is time-consuming, it is expensive, it can be exhausting...and isn’t it worth it?
Now let us pray.
---
1 Laytham, Brent and Michele Clifton-Soderstrom, “Render Unto God,” Blogging Toward Sunday, 10.13.08. Theolog: The Blog of the Christian Century, http://www.theolog.org/, accessed on 18 October, 2008.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Sermon 10/12/08 (Philippians 4:1-9)
“Worried about Worry”
Philippians 4:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 12 October, 2008
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 What are people worried about these days? ... The economy? ...The war? ...Global warming? ... The elections? This past week the economy has been front and center, the primary (or at least most publicized) cause for worry in our country. Stories about the financial crisis are plastered all over the news and when I’m waiting for the bus or walking around town I overhear conversations from worried citizens. What does the bailout mean? Are we heading toward a Great Depression? Will I be okay?
The “unknown” of it makes the economy an especially easy target for worry warts. I’m no economist, but even the people who are best versed in economics cannot entirely predict what will happen with the market. “The market” has a life of its own, based on the millions of people who make it tick. All we -- including the most high-powered investors -- know is how it looks at this particular moment and what the experts tell us about what this might mean. And at this particular moment we’re worried. Will life as we know it be pulled out from under our feet? We see home foreclosures and businesses closing and a higher rate of unemployment and banks failing. We break out in a cold sweat when we imagine where we could be headed.
We worry about the war and all the things attached to it. We worry about our planet and how poorly we have cared for it. We worry about the elections, and the thought that things could get even worse if [insert name of the candidate you don’t want] wins.
Then we have all our personal worries. We worry about our health, about our loved ones, about our relationships, about our flower garden, about how to tell our neighbor to turn down that annoying music without invoking too much of his wrath.
Even if every one of these things was somehow miraculously resolved -- the war over, the planet healthy, the economy back on its feet, our relationships perfect -- we would think of new things to worry about. That’s just how a lot of us are.
“Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
....Oops! Two thousand years ago the Apostle Paul put out a little memo telling his followers not to worry. I don’t know about you, but I somehow missed that memo! All this time I’ve been worrying, which means I’ve been disobeying the instructions of this Christian leader, which must mean I have been sinning...and Oh, God, now I’m worried! What will become of me?! My pulse is starting to race just thinking about it! I’ve been worrying! Oh, God forgive me! ...And...oh, no, I’m doing it again! I’m worrying!
...Of all the commandments and instructions and lessons in the Bible, the ones about worrying are among the most difficult for me to follow. Jesus admonishes against worrying in both the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, and even when the words come from Jesus himself I am not much better at following them.
Here, in some of the closing words to his letter to the church at Philippi, the Apostle Paul mentions worrying as one among several final instructions to this church that is close to his heart. It is apparent that some disagreements have arisen in the church, because Paul reminds two female church leaders to be “of the same mind in Christ.” He encourages members of the church to keep on doing the good work they have been doing...and not to worry in the process. Getting along with one another seems easy compared to not worrying, as far as I’m concerned. Doing the hard work of founding a Christian community seems easy compared to not worrying.
So, how do we go about it? How do we find that “peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” and which is to guard our hearts? How do we “let go and let God”? How do we respond to this beautiful, yet worrisome, piece of scripture? I will say first that letting go of our worries does not mean forgetting about the concerns of the world. Yes, the economy is in turmoil right now. Yes, the Iraq war has been going for five years with no end in sight. Yes, the earth is unhealthy. Yes, the results of the presidential elections will bring change. We do have personal struggles. We have health problems, relationship issues, concerns at work. Our troubles will not suddenly go away if we stop worrying. ...But here’s the thing. Our problems will not get any better just because we worry about them either. In fact, I have been known to let a problem get worse because I worry so much about it that I become paralyzed and don’t do anything about the issue.
Why do you think Paul, and Jesus, tell us not to worry? We will certainly enjoy life more if we worry less. Some people argue that worrying means that we are doubting God. That may be true. But I think another real reason our Lord calls upon us to stop worrying is that when we worry we waste time that could be spent doing real work: praying, caring for those in need, worshiping God. When we worry we are less able to do those things to which we have been called as Christians. When we worry -- when our minds, bodies, and spirits tense up to the point of paralysis -- we are not able to, in Paul’s words, “keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen.”
Do I believe that God is with us when we worry? Of course. Do I believe that God embraces us as we worry? Yes, I believe that God cares whenever God’s people are in distress. This is certainly true in the case of those who suffer from diagnosable anxiety disorders, whose “worry” is more the result of a chemical reaction in the body than it is a response to a life situation. That said, I believe that worry itself -- outside the realm of psychological conditions -- is a waste of time -- both ours and God’s.
Prayer is one way that we can try to decrease our worries. Prayer is never wasteful. Other simple stress management techniques, like taking deep breaths, exercising, doing yoga, getting enough sleep can help alleviate worry too. Talking our worries out with a friend or loved one -- therapists are always good too, of course -- may help.
Working to change the things about which we are worrying is important too. Worried about the economy? Help those who are worse off than you. Worried about the war? Protest it, or send care packages to service men and women, or do something. Worried about the election? Vote, for heaven’s sake! As for personal problems, take care of your body as well as you can. Nurture your relationships. Find a skillful way to ask your neighbor to turn down his radio.
Doing these things will not necessarily change the course of the world immediately. But doing something will help alleviate your worries. And, more importantly, it will make God’s world a better place.
There may be those among you who do not worry a whole lot -- my mother is blessed with that ability -- but I know that the rest of us find plenty to worry about these days. Take a deep breath and start doing something about your worries. Let’s start with prayer.
Now let us pray.
Philippians 4:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 12 October, 2008
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 What are people worried about these days? ... The economy? ...The war? ...Global warming? ... The elections? This past week the economy has been front and center, the primary (or at least most publicized) cause for worry in our country. Stories about the financial crisis are plastered all over the news and when I’m waiting for the bus or walking around town I overhear conversations from worried citizens. What does the bailout mean? Are we heading toward a Great Depression? Will I be okay?
The “unknown” of it makes the economy an especially easy target for worry warts. I’m no economist, but even the people who are best versed in economics cannot entirely predict what will happen with the market. “The market” has a life of its own, based on the millions of people who make it tick. All we -- including the most high-powered investors -- know is how it looks at this particular moment and what the experts tell us about what this might mean. And at this particular moment we’re worried. Will life as we know it be pulled out from under our feet? We see home foreclosures and businesses closing and a higher rate of unemployment and banks failing. We break out in a cold sweat when we imagine where we could be headed.
We worry about the war and all the things attached to it. We worry about our planet and how poorly we have cared for it. We worry about the elections, and the thought that things could get even worse if [insert name of the candidate you don’t want] wins.
Then we have all our personal worries. We worry about our health, about our loved ones, about our relationships, about our flower garden, about how to tell our neighbor to turn down that annoying music without invoking too much of his wrath.
Even if every one of these things was somehow miraculously resolved -- the war over, the planet healthy, the economy back on its feet, our relationships perfect -- we would think of new things to worry about. That’s just how a lot of us are.
“Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”
....Oops! Two thousand years ago the Apostle Paul put out a little memo telling his followers not to worry. I don’t know about you, but I somehow missed that memo! All this time I’ve been worrying, which means I’ve been disobeying the instructions of this Christian leader, which must mean I have been sinning...and Oh, God, now I’m worried! What will become of me?! My pulse is starting to race just thinking about it! I’ve been worrying! Oh, God forgive me! ...And...oh, no, I’m doing it again! I’m worrying!
...Of all the commandments and instructions and lessons in the Bible, the ones about worrying are among the most difficult for me to follow. Jesus admonishes against worrying in both the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, and even when the words come from Jesus himself I am not much better at following them.
Here, in some of the closing words to his letter to the church at Philippi, the Apostle Paul mentions worrying as one among several final instructions to this church that is close to his heart. It is apparent that some disagreements have arisen in the church, because Paul reminds two female church leaders to be “of the same mind in Christ.” He encourages members of the church to keep on doing the good work they have been doing...and not to worry in the process. Getting along with one another seems easy compared to not worrying, as far as I’m concerned. Doing the hard work of founding a Christian community seems easy compared to not worrying.
So, how do we go about it? How do we find that “peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” and which is to guard our hearts? How do we “let go and let God”? How do we respond to this beautiful, yet worrisome, piece of scripture? I will say first that letting go of our worries does not mean forgetting about the concerns of the world. Yes, the economy is in turmoil right now. Yes, the Iraq war has been going for five years with no end in sight. Yes, the earth is unhealthy. Yes, the results of the presidential elections will bring change. We do have personal struggles. We have health problems, relationship issues, concerns at work. Our troubles will not suddenly go away if we stop worrying. ...But here’s the thing. Our problems will not get any better just because we worry about them either. In fact, I have been known to let a problem get worse because I worry so much about it that I become paralyzed and don’t do anything about the issue.
Why do you think Paul, and Jesus, tell us not to worry? We will certainly enjoy life more if we worry less. Some people argue that worrying means that we are doubting God. That may be true. But I think another real reason our Lord calls upon us to stop worrying is that when we worry we waste time that could be spent doing real work: praying, caring for those in need, worshiping God. When we worry we are less able to do those things to which we have been called as Christians. When we worry -- when our minds, bodies, and spirits tense up to the point of paralysis -- we are not able to, in Paul’s words, “keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen.”
Do I believe that God is with us when we worry? Of course. Do I believe that God embraces us as we worry? Yes, I believe that God cares whenever God’s people are in distress. This is certainly true in the case of those who suffer from diagnosable anxiety disorders, whose “worry” is more the result of a chemical reaction in the body than it is a response to a life situation. That said, I believe that worry itself -- outside the realm of psychological conditions -- is a waste of time -- both ours and God’s.
Prayer is one way that we can try to decrease our worries. Prayer is never wasteful. Other simple stress management techniques, like taking deep breaths, exercising, doing yoga, getting enough sleep can help alleviate worry too. Talking our worries out with a friend or loved one -- therapists are always good too, of course -- may help.
Working to change the things about which we are worrying is important too. Worried about the economy? Help those who are worse off than you. Worried about the war? Protest it, or send care packages to service men and women, or do something. Worried about the election? Vote, for heaven’s sake! As for personal problems, take care of your body as well as you can. Nurture your relationships. Find a skillful way to ask your neighbor to turn down his radio.
Doing these things will not necessarily change the course of the world immediately. But doing something will help alleviate your worries. And, more importantly, it will make God’s world a better place.
There may be those among you who do not worry a whole lot -- my mother is blessed with that ability -- but I know that the rest of us find plenty to worry about these days. Take a deep breath and start doing something about your worries. Let’s start with prayer.
Now let us pray.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Sermon 10/05/08 (Matthew 22:1-14)
“The Entire Ugly, Beautiful World”
Matthew 22:1-14
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 5 October, 2008
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
World Communion Sunday
----
 I have worshiped in a lot of churches. I was baptized in a Congregational UCC church in Littleton, New Hampshire. I attended a Lutheran church in Fargo, North Dakota for about two years. Then there’s the UCC church I attended most of my years growing up in Fargo. There’s the church I attended in college, the churches I served as a seminary intern, the church I served in Sacramento, California, and, of course, St. Mark’s.
Then there are all of the churches I have attended as a visitor. When I travel I enjoy visiting churches, and I have worshiped in a number of sanctuaries throughout the United States. I have also had some opportunities to travel overseas, and I especially remember worshiping in a Russian Orthodox church for Easter in St. Petersburg and in a Protestant church in Ireland during my honeymoon.
All of these churches are of varying sizes, worship styles, theologies, cultural backgrounds, denominations. And, oh! the variety of Christians within them! In some of these churches I got to know the members quite well. The church in which I was raised, for example, provided me with many close friends. I have nurtured a pastoral relationship with members of the churches that I have served. But then there are the hundreds of people who I may have met for 30 seconds during the one time I worshiped with that congregation. They are Christian faces that essentially just flashed before my eyes -- a blink of Christian humanity.
This morning I -- and all of you -- are joining together with every one of those Christ-worshipers to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. On this World Communion Sunday we are gathering together with members of the UCC church in Dittmer, Missouri where I was an intern pastor and with the Russian Orthodox church in St. Petersburg, Russia that I walked past every day for months but only worshiped in once, and partaking of the Eucharist. We will do so in different ways -- every UCC church does communion a little differently, much less our Orthodox, and Methodist, and Lutheran, and Disciples of Christ, and Catholic, and Presbyterian brothers and sisters. It will mean different things for the Orthodox than it will for the Presbyterian. But it will be the same meal, celebrated in the spirit of Christian unity.
“The king said, ‘Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ [They] went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.”
In this morning’s scripture a king is prepared to give a wedding banquet, and he sends his slaves to retrieve the invited guests. The guests apparently didn’t like what was on the menu, because they refused to come. Some of them were so offended at the invitation that they actually killed the slaves that had sent for them. The king retaliated with his own violence -- one of the many pieces of violence that we tend to miss when reading our scriptures. But then we get to the part of this scripture that we all remember: the grand invitation to any ragtag group of people that can be found on the streets. Matthew describes this new group of invitees as “both good and bad.”
What an interesting wedding party! The king invited bad people to his wedding. Sure, they were among the only people he could find, but that doesn’t take away much from the fact that they were invited.
On this World Communion Sunday, I think back to the people I have met in all the churches I have visited. There have surely been a collection of “both good and bad” among them. There are those who I have grown to know and love. There have also, I am ashamed to say, been a few people that I simply could not stand. There was the terrible conflict in the church in which I was raised, and I am not on speaking terms with some of those people. Then there are, again, all of those churches I have visited once. Surely there must be some truly wonderful people who are on their way to sainthood -- the simple and loving way that I have been greeted in some of these churches shows me that there are many goodhearted people. There are also, most likely, some who are less reputable. I have probably attended church with money embezzlers, people who commit acts of domestic violence, maybe even members of the Russian mafia, along with all the people who are just a little annoying.
Here’s the thing: We are all invited to this World Communion Sunday banquet today. We are all invited to the table, “both good and bad.” There are churches that may deny communion to certain folks, but we are not one of those churches. We’ll take ‘em all, every single Christian who wants to be here, the whole ugly, beautiful world. It’s a scary concept, thinking of some of the people with whom we may be communing today. But it’s marvelous too. We are not welcome here because we are good. We are welcome here because we believe that Jesus is our Savior. It would be lovely if we could just stop here, as one happy, dysfunctional Christian family gathered around an enormous table for a feast as big as the world. But there’s that pesky little ending bit of our morning’s scripture. As much as I would like to forget it’s there I cannot.
After the king makes his grand invitation, one would think he could put up with someone not adhering to exact wedding dress code. But when he notices a guest who is not wearing proper wedding attire he commits another one of those forgotten acts of violence in Matthew. “The king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’” This guest doesn’t merely get asked to go home and change, or even simply thrown out onto the street. Instead, he is tossed into hell itself, he has so offended his host!
What do we do with this? What happened to “invite everybody”?! What happened to our interpretation that “all are welcome”?! Scholars have struggled with this for centuries. But a general consensus is that, while everyone is invited, they are still expected to be prepared.
If we look at this story as an allegory, the king is, of course, God, and we are the guests -- the good and the bad, the ugly and beautiful, all of humanity. This story is not specifically speaking about communion -- in fact one scholar suggests that Matthew is speaking of baptism -- but the invitation to a “banquet” certainly works as a communion metaphor. We at St. Mark’s believe that everyone is always invited to the table, whether it’s World Communion Sunday or just any old day. After all, it’s God’s table, not ours. But while we invite everyone, we do ask one thing of them. We say that the table is open to “anyone who professes Christ as Lord.” We do actually expect you to believe in Christ in order to share this meal with us. Now, this doesn’t mean that you have to be rock-solid certain about your faith at every moment -- if we did not allow doubters to join us very few of us would be able to partake. We also do not require you to understand everything about communion -- we call it a mystery for a reason. This, by the way, is why I believe children should be allowed to receive communion -- the Eucharist is a mystery to us regardless of age. But we do expect you to say, “Yes, I believe in Jesus Christ.”
We expect something else of you too. We expect you to take this meal seriously and to approach the table with a contrite heart. Whether you are “good or bad” today, we ask that you set aside your sins and your saintliness and come here in humility. Don’t just say the words in the communion booklet and snack on some bread and grape juice. Pray these words and feast on the body and blood of Christ, or the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation. This is a very joyful meal, but it is solemn too. Take it seriously.
When you gather at this table today with Christians from around the world, your wedding garment will be your profession of faith and your sense of wonder at this love feast. You are invited; please “dress” appropriately. Jeans and a t-shirt are fine, as long as you take this shindig seriously.
Now let us pray.
Matthew 22:1-14
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 5 October, 2008
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
World Communion Sunday
----
 I have worshiped in a lot of churches. I was baptized in a Congregational UCC church in Littleton, New Hampshire. I attended a Lutheran church in Fargo, North Dakota for about two years. Then there’s the UCC church I attended most of my years growing up in Fargo. There’s the church I attended in college, the churches I served as a seminary intern, the church I served in Sacramento, California, and, of course, St. Mark’s.
Then there are all of the churches I have attended as a visitor. When I travel I enjoy visiting churches, and I have worshiped in a number of sanctuaries throughout the United States. I have also had some opportunities to travel overseas, and I especially remember worshiping in a Russian Orthodox church for Easter in St. Petersburg and in a Protestant church in Ireland during my honeymoon.
All of these churches are of varying sizes, worship styles, theologies, cultural backgrounds, denominations. And, oh! the variety of Christians within them! In some of these churches I got to know the members quite well. The church in which I was raised, for example, provided me with many close friends. I have nurtured a pastoral relationship with members of the churches that I have served. But then there are the hundreds of people who I may have met for 30 seconds during the one time I worshiped with that congregation. They are Christian faces that essentially just flashed before my eyes -- a blink of Christian humanity.
This morning I -- and all of you -- are joining together with every one of those Christ-worshipers to celebrate the Lord’s Supper. On this World Communion Sunday we are gathering together with members of the UCC church in Dittmer, Missouri where I was an intern pastor and with the Russian Orthodox church in St. Petersburg, Russia that I walked past every day for months but only worshiped in once, and partaking of the Eucharist. We will do so in different ways -- every UCC church does communion a little differently, much less our Orthodox, and Methodist, and Lutheran, and Disciples of Christ, and Catholic, and Presbyterian brothers and sisters. It will mean different things for the Orthodox than it will for the Presbyterian. But it will be the same meal, celebrated in the spirit of Christian unity.
“The king said, ‘Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ [They] went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.”
In this morning’s scripture a king is prepared to give a wedding banquet, and he sends his slaves to retrieve the invited guests. The guests apparently didn’t like what was on the menu, because they refused to come. Some of them were so offended at the invitation that they actually killed the slaves that had sent for them. The king retaliated with his own violence -- one of the many pieces of violence that we tend to miss when reading our scriptures. But then we get to the part of this scripture that we all remember: the grand invitation to any ragtag group of people that can be found on the streets. Matthew describes this new group of invitees as “both good and bad.”
What an interesting wedding party! The king invited bad people to his wedding. Sure, they were among the only people he could find, but that doesn’t take away much from the fact that they were invited.
On this World Communion Sunday, I think back to the people I have met in all the churches I have visited. There have surely been a collection of “both good and bad” among them. There are those who I have grown to know and love. There have also, I am ashamed to say, been a few people that I simply could not stand. There was the terrible conflict in the church in which I was raised, and I am not on speaking terms with some of those people. Then there are, again, all of those churches I have visited once. Surely there must be some truly wonderful people who are on their way to sainthood -- the simple and loving way that I have been greeted in some of these churches shows me that there are many goodhearted people. There are also, most likely, some who are less reputable. I have probably attended church with money embezzlers, people who commit acts of domestic violence, maybe even members of the Russian mafia, along with all the people who are just a little annoying.
Here’s the thing: We are all invited to this World Communion Sunday banquet today. We are all invited to the table, “both good and bad.” There are churches that may deny communion to certain folks, but we are not one of those churches. We’ll take ‘em all, every single Christian who wants to be here, the whole ugly, beautiful world. It’s a scary concept, thinking of some of the people with whom we may be communing today. But it’s marvelous too. We are not welcome here because we are good. We are welcome here because we believe that Jesus is our Savior. It would be lovely if we could just stop here, as one happy, dysfunctional Christian family gathered around an enormous table for a feast as big as the world. But there’s that pesky little ending bit of our morning’s scripture. As much as I would like to forget it’s there I cannot.
After the king makes his grand invitation, one would think he could put up with someone not adhering to exact wedding dress code. But when he notices a guest who is not wearing proper wedding attire he commits another one of those forgotten acts of violence in Matthew. “The king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’” This guest doesn’t merely get asked to go home and change, or even simply thrown out onto the street. Instead, he is tossed into hell itself, he has so offended his host!
What do we do with this? What happened to “invite everybody”?! What happened to our interpretation that “all are welcome”?! Scholars have struggled with this for centuries. But a general consensus is that, while everyone is invited, they are still expected to be prepared.
If we look at this story as an allegory, the king is, of course, God, and we are the guests -- the good and the bad, the ugly and beautiful, all of humanity. This story is not specifically speaking about communion -- in fact one scholar suggests that Matthew is speaking of baptism -- but the invitation to a “banquet” certainly works as a communion metaphor. We at St. Mark’s believe that everyone is always invited to the table, whether it’s World Communion Sunday or just any old day. After all, it’s God’s table, not ours. But while we invite everyone, we do ask one thing of them. We say that the table is open to “anyone who professes Christ as Lord.” We do actually expect you to believe in Christ in order to share this meal with us. Now, this doesn’t mean that you have to be rock-solid certain about your faith at every moment -- if we did not allow doubters to join us very few of us would be able to partake. We also do not require you to understand everything about communion -- we call it a mystery for a reason. This, by the way, is why I believe children should be allowed to receive communion -- the Eucharist is a mystery to us regardless of age. But we do expect you to say, “Yes, I believe in Jesus Christ.”
We expect something else of you too. We expect you to take this meal seriously and to approach the table with a contrite heart. Whether you are “good or bad” today, we ask that you set aside your sins and your saintliness and come here in humility. Don’t just say the words in the communion booklet and snack on some bread and grape juice. Pray these words and feast on the body and blood of Christ, or the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation. This is a very joyful meal, but it is solemn too. Take it seriously.
When you gather at this table today with Christians from around the world, your wedding garment will be your profession of faith and your sense of wonder at this love feast. You are invited; please “dress” appropriately. Jeans and a t-shirt are fine, as long as you take this shindig seriously.
Now let us pray.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sermon 09/28/08 (Matthew 21:23-32)
“Practicing, Not Preaching”
Matthew 21:23-32
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 28 September, 2008
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 It drives me crazy when certain people talk about family values. Don’t get me wrong. I believe strongly in the importance of family values, of course. But that’s just it. There are groups of people in this country who use “family values” as a catch phrase to mean that they are against abortion and gay marriage....but that’s as far as “family values” goes for them. They preach “family values” when it comes to those two hot-button issues but do not spend nearly as much time or energy or money on providing support for struggling new mothers or victims of domestic violence, nor do they seem to care much about helping married couples who are going through a rough patch -- divorce is okay, as long as it is between a man and a woman. They scream “family values” and present themselves as better Christians and human beings than anyone else on the planet, but their actions say something else entirely.
These are like the second son in this morning’s gospel. They say one thing but do another. The second son in Jesus’ parable made a promise to help his father, but he did not act on his promise. These particular “family values” folks complain that the American family is falling apart, but they do not actually do much about it.
I don’t really understand how the minds of these folks work. I don’t know if “family values” really does mean only “anti-abortion” and “marriage between a man and a woman” to them, or if they start out with a broader view of “the American family” than that but then get stuck on those two issues. There are certainly other people who preach “family values” but mean something beyond abortion and gay marriage. While I may not agree with all of their beliefs I can at least respect them. I have a difficult time respecting people who use a catch-phrase only as a weapon against people, tearing down but doing little to build up in return.
Then there are the “first sons” in our world -- the ones who initially present themselves as the ornery teenager who won’t do what they’re told...but then go on to do the right thing.
For the past several weeks we have been lifting my friend Richard up in prayer. Richard, you may recall, is in prison in Texas and was recently denied parole. I grieve his parole denial because he is a good example of the first son from our parable.
Richard and I have been writing to each other for more than six years now, and he has been in prison that entire time. In fact, he was in prison for several years before we began corresponding. He will be the first to tell you that he had a very troubled youth. He was involved with the wrong crowd and he did some things of which he is not at all proud. He was convicted of a serious crime, and he readily admits now that he committed that crime.
If Richard had a vineyard owner for a father, he would probably have laughed in his dad’s face when asked to help with the work. I believe that now, however, Richard would jump at the chance to help a family member or anyone else. He would run into that vineyard before being asked and would do as much as he could. Many years have passed since Richard was a juvenile delinquent growing up on the streets of Los Angeles, and in the years that I have known him he has shown me nothing but a good heart. He has been a good friend to me, writing kind words when I going through a difficult time and sharing laughs. My only problem with him is that he is a fan of the Los Angeles Lakers.
Richard is not just a good friend to me. A couple of years ago he was asked to serve as a peer educator to other inmates, teaching them about HIV/AIDS prevention. He underwent training in preparation for this and has taught classes for several years. He does not have HIV or AIDS and he was not previously an expert on the subject, but his status as a fellow inmate makes it a lot more likely that his students will listen to him than if an outsider were to teach the class.
Richard has become a devout Christian while in prison, and our conversations about faith are among my favorite aspects of our friendship. A couple of years ago he began working full time for the prison chaplain’s office. He is also involved with several outside ministries that both provide him with spiritual support and give him opportunities to serve.
Which of these examples is the better one? The Christian who preaches “family values” but does not practice them...or the “bad” kid who did everything wrong but has spent most of his time behind bars trying to reconstruct his life and help others? Which of these examples is the better one? The one who preaches vehemently but doesn’t practice? Or the one who failed his family and society but is making up for it?
We all know people who say they are going to do one thing but do another. It drives me crazy when people do this -- be they politicians or personal friends. However, I am ashamed to say that I, too, have made promises that I have not kept. We know people who portray themselves as one thing when they are really another. There are probably areas in which I am guilty of this too.
Then there are the “first sons” -- the people we figure are good for nothing...until they do something marvelous and outshine us as Christians and as human beings.
Who would you rather be? Of course, the goal is to be a “third son” -- one who says that he will do the right thing and immediately does it. One who presents himself as a humble but kind Christian and actually comes across that way in the way he lives. I know a few people like this -- the Mother Teresas and Gandhis of the world -- but the truth is that most of us are pretty fallible. We are either in the process of making mistakes or recovering from the mistakes that we have made. We are the tax collectors and sinners that Jesus held close to his heart. We are the ones that are in need of redemption. We may not have committed crimes that could send us to prison and we may not be preaching something that we have no intention of practicing. Still, we are in need of grace. That grace is available to us -- yes, even if we are spending years in prison -- if we are willing to swallow our pride, repent, and begin acting like the human beings God has called us to be.
I beseech you, then, to search your souls and find the broken spots. They can be mended. You can go back and do some of those things you promised to do but never did. Even in cases where you cannot go back, you can begin to make up for your past wrongdoing by doing good things right now.
Whatever you do, seek God’s grace...but know that it precedes you. Jesus embraced sinners before you committed your first sin, and Christ will embrace you.
Now let us pray.
Matthew 21:23-32
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 28 September, 2008
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 It drives me crazy when certain people talk about family values. Don’t get me wrong. I believe strongly in the importance of family values, of course. But that’s just it. There are groups of people in this country who use “family values” as a catch phrase to mean that they are against abortion and gay marriage....but that’s as far as “family values” goes for them. They preach “family values” when it comes to those two hot-button issues but do not spend nearly as much time or energy or money on providing support for struggling new mothers or victims of domestic violence, nor do they seem to care much about helping married couples who are going through a rough patch -- divorce is okay, as long as it is between a man and a woman. They scream “family values” and present themselves as better Christians and human beings than anyone else on the planet, but their actions say something else entirely.
These are like the second son in this morning’s gospel. They say one thing but do another. The second son in Jesus’ parable made a promise to help his father, but he did not act on his promise. These particular “family values” folks complain that the American family is falling apart, but they do not actually do much about it.
I don’t really understand how the minds of these folks work. I don’t know if “family values” really does mean only “anti-abortion” and “marriage between a man and a woman” to them, or if they start out with a broader view of “the American family” than that but then get stuck on those two issues. There are certainly other people who preach “family values” but mean something beyond abortion and gay marriage. While I may not agree with all of their beliefs I can at least respect them. I have a difficult time respecting people who use a catch-phrase only as a weapon against people, tearing down but doing little to build up in return.
Then there are the “first sons” in our world -- the ones who initially present themselves as the ornery teenager who won’t do what they’re told...but then go on to do the right thing.
For the past several weeks we have been lifting my friend Richard up in prayer. Richard, you may recall, is in prison in Texas and was recently denied parole. I grieve his parole denial because he is a good example of the first son from our parable.
Richard and I have been writing to each other for more than six years now, and he has been in prison that entire time. In fact, he was in prison for several years before we began corresponding. He will be the first to tell you that he had a very troubled youth. He was involved with the wrong crowd and he did some things of which he is not at all proud. He was convicted of a serious crime, and he readily admits now that he committed that crime.
If Richard had a vineyard owner for a father, he would probably have laughed in his dad’s face when asked to help with the work. I believe that now, however, Richard would jump at the chance to help a family member or anyone else. He would run into that vineyard before being asked and would do as much as he could. Many years have passed since Richard was a juvenile delinquent growing up on the streets of Los Angeles, and in the years that I have known him he has shown me nothing but a good heart. He has been a good friend to me, writing kind words when I going through a difficult time and sharing laughs. My only problem with him is that he is a fan of the Los Angeles Lakers.
Richard is not just a good friend to me. A couple of years ago he was asked to serve as a peer educator to other inmates, teaching them about HIV/AIDS prevention. He underwent training in preparation for this and has taught classes for several years. He does not have HIV or AIDS and he was not previously an expert on the subject, but his status as a fellow inmate makes it a lot more likely that his students will listen to him than if an outsider were to teach the class.
Richard has become a devout Christian while in prison, and our conversations about faith are among my favorite aspects of our friendship. A couple of years ago he began working full time for the prison chaplain’s office. He is also involved with several outside ministries that both provide him with spiritual support and give him opportunities to serve.
Which of these examples is the better one? The Christian who preaches “family values” but does not practice them...or the “bad” kid who did everything wrong but has spent most of his time behind bars trying to reconstruct his life and help others? Which of these examples is the better one? The one who preaches vehemently but doesn’t practice? Or the one who failed his family and society but is making up for it?
We all know people who say they are going to do one thing but do another. It drives me crazy when people do this -- be they politicians or personal friends. However, I am ashamed to say that I, too, have made promises that I have not kept. We know people who portray themselves as one thing when they are really another. There are probably areas in which I am guilty of this too.
Then there are the “first sons” -- the people we figure are good for nothing...until they do something marvelous and outshine us as Christians and as human beings.
Who would you rather be? Of course, the goal is to be a “third son” -- one who says that he will do the right thing and immediately does it. One who presents himself as a humble but kind Christian and actually comes across that way in the way he lives. I know a few people like this -- the Mother Teresas and Gandhis of the world -- but the truth is that most of us are pretty fallible. We are either in the process of making mistakes or recovering from the mistakes that we have made. We are the tax collectors and sinners that Jesus held close to his heart. We are the ones that are in need of redemption. We may not have committed crimes that could send us to prison and we may not be preaching something that we have no intention of practicing. Still, we are in need of grace. That grace is available to us -- yes, even if we are spending years in prison -- if we are willing to swallow our pride, repent, and begin acting like the human beings God has called us to be.
I beseech you, then, to search your souls and find the broken spots. They can be mended. You can go back and do some of those things you promised to do but never did. Even in cases where you cannot go back, you can begin to make up for your past wrongdoing by doing good things right now.
Whatever you do, seek God’s grace...but know that it precedes you. Jesus embraced sinners before you committed your first sin, and Christ will embrace you.
Now let us pray.
Sermon 09/21/08 (Matthew 20:1-16)
“It’s Not Always About What’s Fair”
Matthew 20:1-16
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 21 September, 2008
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 I have never been very good at sports. When I was growing up I hated playing competitive games in gym class, because I was always one of the last ones picked to be on a team. In addition to my awkwardness on the ball field, I was not one of the popular kids, so those classmates who were higher on the social ladder were even less likely to pick me. They knew I wouldn’t increase their chances of winning the game and I was a nerd, so I didn’t have much going for me.
Because of these painful experiences in gym class, I will never forget the actions of one of my classmates sophomore or junior year of high school. We were playing softball or something similar, and I didn’t get picked for the team much earlier than I usually did. However, once I was on a team and was up to bat one of my classmates -- one of the popular boys who was good at sports, no less -- began encouraging me. “Keep your eye on the ball,” he instructed kindly. Because of the kindness in his voice, I did, and I actually hit the ball. He continued to encourage me as I ran the bases. I do not remember if I made it “home” and I don’t even remember the boy’s name now. What I do remember is my self-esteem going up a little that day. Here was a guy who knew I was not going to be a great asset to the team, but he treated me like I had something to offer. What an act of grace!
In this morning’s Gospel lesson we hear a similar example of the grace of God. After gathering workers several times throughout the day, a vineyard owner goes out one more time and discovers still more workers standing around waiting to be hired by someone. Like an ungainly high school nerd they were the last to be picked for the team.
We are not told why they were not hired earlier. Scholar Craig Kocher suggests that they might not have had the necessary skills for vineyard work or been familiar with the language. Maybe they weren’t able to get to the location earlier in the day because of an emergency -- a sick family member, a personal injury. Whatever the case, it was an hour before the day’s work would be done and they were still waiting, having gone an entire day without earning a wage. This would be a huge problem for day-laborers in a subsistence society. It may well mean that they would have no food to put on the table for their families. If they went more than one day without working their very survival may be at stake.
Even if some landowner needed last-minute work and hired them at the end of the day, we would expect them to be paid for the amount of time they worked -- i.e., not very much. I don’t know exactly how payment worked in first century Middle Eastern agricultural society, but in modern America we usually speak of being paid by the hour. Minimum wage is based on hourly wages, and it is expected that people will be paid for the amount of time that they have worked. Even salaried positions usually have an expected number of hours that the employee is to work during the week -- it is understood that 40 hours per week is full time for most jobs, but these days an employee may be expected to work more than that. Either way, the more time a person works the more they get paid.
Clearly, that is what the workers first to be hired in this morning’s scripture story were expecting. They were told that they would receive the usual daily wage, sure, but when the workers who had been hired later in the day got paid that wage, the first ones to be there expected more. When they didn’t get it, they were understandably upset. Those of us who have worked very hard for an hourly wage are probably upset right along with them. “It isn’t fair!” we want to whine to that mathematically-impaired vineyard owner.
Well, to use one of my least favorite parental phrases, “Life isn’t always fair.” This story is about God, remember, and God isn’t always fair. On the other hand, God is almost always right, and this is one of those times. The vineyard owner may not have acted in a way that made sense to the workers or that makes much sense to us, but he did the right thing. The workers who were first to arrive received the usual daily wage, as promised. This wasn’t a lot -- they lived, as I said, a subsistence lifestyle, which meant that they survived from day to day but would never be able to save anything. With the usual daily wage, they would, however, probably be able to put food on the table for their families that night, to get enough nutrition to get them through the next hard day’s work.
If hired by a less compassionate landowner, those hired later in the day would go home hungry. If they were unable to afford food, they would be unable to gain strength enough to continue working. They would get picked later and later in the day until they were forced to beg or simply starve to death because they no longer had the physical ability to do hard labor in the fields.
Instead of suffering this dire predicament they were given another chance by a vineyard owner who cared about their survival. They would be able to eat that night, and thus they would be able to work another day. While probably never able to escape the poverty that day-laborers faced in first-century Palestine (and continue to face today in our country), they would be able to escape starvation for another day.
I can clearly hear the voice of some modern American radio commentator complaining that these latecomers were just “given handouts.” They were clearly lazy bums who would begin to expect such handouts and sit on their lazy behinds eating out of other people’s pockets.
The closest analogy to the day-laborers of our Gospel is probably migrant workers who come up from Mexico or other nations South of the border to work in the American heartland. I have heard people immediately label all of these workers “illegals” (even if they entered the United States legally) and complain that all they’re doing here is trying to get rich off of “our” tax dollars. I have also seen the hard work that immigrant day-laborers do for very, very little pay.
Another easy correlation to this morning’s scripture is anyone who benefits from the welfare system. There are welfare recipients who work several minimum wage jobs but are still unable to pay their meager bills. There are others who are disabled and truly unable to work. Others struggle to find affordable childcare. When they are unable to do so they either choose not to work, knowing that this may mean they will be unable to feed their children, or they leave their children home alone and are promptly labeled “evil child neglecters” by people who do not know their situation. Others have simply made mistakes or faced misfortunes in life -- legal troubles, addictions, broken homes, bad financial decisions, etc. -- and are struggling to get back on their feet. Regardless of the circumstances, they are labeled “lazy,” told to “get a job” (even if they already have one), and people complain that all “these people” are doing is stealing the taxes of “good Americans who actually work.” I do not often hear the viewpoint of the grace-filled vineyard owner on our airwaves.
Our God is not like that. The God we worship believes that each and every one of us, regardless of our contribution to the workforce, is worthy of grace. One could argue, in the vein of our Gospel lesson, that our God also believes every human being deserves a living wage and the ability to put food on the table. Every person, from the star of the high school football team to the illegal immigrant, to the selfless missionary, to the person facing life without parole was created in the image of God. In turn, every one of us is worthy of God’s grace.
Let us find comfort in this. Let us try to emulate it. And let us pray.
Matthew 20:1-16
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 21 September, 2008
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
----
 I have never been very good at sports. When I was growing up I hated playing competitive games in gym class, because I was always one of the last ones picked to be on a team. In addition to my awkwardness on the ball field, I was not one of the popular kids, so those classmates who were higher on the social ladder were even less likely to pick me. They knew I wouldn’t increase their chances of winning the game and I was a nerd, so I didn’t have much going for me.
Because of these painful experiences in gym class, I will never forget the actions of one of my classmates sophomore or junior year of high school. We were playing softball or something similar, and I didn’t get picked for the team much earlier than I usually did. However, once I was on a team and was up to bat one of my classmates -- one of the popular boys who was good at sports, no less -- began encouraging me. “Keep your eye on the ball,” he instructed kindly. Because of the kindness in his voice, I did, and I actually hit the ball. He continued to encourage me as I ran the bases. I do not remember if I made it “home” and I don’t even remember the boy’s name now. What I do remember is my self-esteem going up a little that day. Here was a guy who knew I was not going to be a great asset to the team, but he treated me like I had something to offer. What an act of grace!
In this morning’s Gospel lesson we hear a similar example of the grace of God. After gathering workers several times throughout the day, a vineyard owner goes out one more time and discovers still more workers standing around waiting to be hired by someone. Like an ungainly high school nerd they were the last to be picked for the team.
We are not told why they were not hired earlier. Scholar Craig Kocher suggests that they might not have had the necessary skills for vineyard work or been familiar with the language. Maybe they weren’t able to get to the location earlier in the day because of an emergency -- a sick family member, a personal injury. Whatever the case, it was an hour before the day’s work would be done and they were still waiting, having gone an entire day without earning a wage. This would be a huge problem for day-laborers in a subsistence society. It may well mean that they would have no food to put on the table for their families. If they went more than one day without working their very survival may be at stake.
Even if some landowner needed last-minute work and hired them at the end of the day, we would expect them to be paid for the amount of time they worked -- i.e., not very much. I don’t know exactly how payment worked in first century Middle Eastern agricultural society, but in modern America we usually speak of being paid by the hour. Minimum wage is based on hourly wages, and it is expected that people will be paid for the amount of time that they have worked. Even salaried positions usually have an expected number of hours that the employee is to work during the week -- it is understood that 40 hours per week is full time for most jobs, but these days an employee may be expected to work more than that. Either way, the more time a person works the more they get paid.
Clearly, that is what the workers first to be hired in this morning’s scripture story were expecting. They were told that they would receive the usual daily wage, sure, but when the workers who had been hired later in the day got paid that wage, the first ones to be there expected more. When they didn’t get it, they were understandably upset. Those of us who have worked very hard for an hourly wage are probably upset right along with them. “It isn’t fair!” we want to whine to that mathematically-impaired vineyard owner.
Well, to use one of my least favorite parental phrases, “Life isn’t always fair.” This story is about God, remember, and God isn’t always fair. On the other hand, God is almost always right, and this is one of those times. The vineyard owner may not have acted in a way that made sense to the workers or that makes much sense to us, but he did the right thing. The workers who were first to arrive received the usual daily wage, as promised. This wasn’t a lot -- they lived, as I said, a subsistence lifestyle, which meant that they survived from day to day but would never be able to save anything. With the usual daily wage, they would, however, probably be able to put food on the table for their families that night, to get enough nutrition to get them through the next hard day’s work.
If hired by a less compassionate landowner, those hired later in the day would go home hungry. If they were unable to afford food, they would be unable to gain strength enough to continue working. They would get picked later and later in the day until they were forced to beg or simply starve to death because they no longer had the physical ability to do hard labor in the fields.
Instead of suffering this dire predicament they were given another chance by a vineyard owner who cared about their survival. They would be able to eat that night, and thus they would be able to work another day. While probably never able to escape the poverty that day-laborers faced in first-century Palestine (and continue to face today in our country), they would be able to escape starvation for another day.
I can clearly hear the voice of some modern American radio commentator complaining that these latecomers were just “given handouts.” They were clearly lazy bums who would begin to expect such handouts and sit on their lazy behinds eating out of other people’s pockets.
The closest analogy to the day-laborers of our Gospel is probably migrant workers who come up from Mexico or other nations South of the border to work in the American heartland. I have heard people immediately label all of these workers “illegals” (even if they entered the United States legally) and complain that all they’re doing here is trying to get rich off of “our” tax dollars. I have also seen the hard work that immigrant day-laborers do for very, very little pay.
Another easy correlation to this morning’s scripture is anyone who benefits from the welfare system. There are welfare recipients who work several minimum wage jobs but are still unable to pay their meager bills. There are others who are disabled and truly unable to work. Others struggle to find affordable childcare. When they are unable to do so they either choose not to work, knowing that this may mean they will be unable to feed their children, or they leave their children home alone and are promptly labeled “evil child neglecters” by people who do not know their situation. Others have simply made mistakes or faced misfortunes in life -- legal troubles, addictions, broken homes, bad financial decisions, etc. -- and are struggling to get back on their feet. Regardless of the circumstances, they are labeled “lazy,” told to “get a job” (even if they already have one), and people complain that all “these people” are doing is stealing the taxes of “good Americans who actually work.” I do not often hear the viewpoint of the grace-filled vineyard owner on our airwaves.
Our God is not like that. The God we worship believes that each and every one of us, regardless of our contribution to the workforce, is worthy of grace. One could argue, in the vein of our Gospel lesson, that our God also believes every human being deserves a living wage and the ability to put food on the table. Every person, from the star of the high school football team to the illegal immigrant, to the selfless missionary, to the person facing life without parole was created in the image of God. In turn, every one of us is worthy of God’s grace.
Let us find comfort in this. Let us try to emulate it. And let us pray.
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