“Jesus: The Sports Drink”
John 4:5-42
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 24 February, 2008
Third Sunday in Lent
---
 I recently came across a sports drink called “Life Water.” The product is described as a “vitamin enhanced water beverage.” According to the product’s web site, “Life Water puts more into the product so you can get more out!”1
Purified bottled water apparently isn’t enough these days. Granted, several bottled water companies have recently admitted that their “spring water” is really just tap water, but even the most meticulously marketed “mountain spring water” isn’t enough. We’ve all seen the ads for sports drinks that claim they will quench your thirst more than plain old water ever could. Whether they are an “enhanced water beverage” or a lab-created concoction of “thirst quenching” chemicals, they insist that they will keep you hydrated longer and will thus allow for improved performance in athletics or whatever other activity is making you parched.
When I did an Internet search for “Life Water,” the first link that came up was for the “enhanced water beverage” product. The third link down on the search results page was for “Water of Life Community Church,” a nondenominational congregation in Fontana, California.2 I am also aware of a Lutheran church in Fargo, North Dakota called “Living Waters.”3
Jesus said, “‘Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”4
So, is the water that Jesus promised the Samaritan woman at the well somehow “chemically enhanced”? Life Water unveiled a rather silly commercial during the Super Bowl, complete with a fashion model and lizards. I am trying to imagine Jesus doing a similar marketing campaign for his “life water.” Of course, the Samaritan (a fallen woman anyway) would be gorgeous and scantily clad. Jesus would be (as he is sometimes portrayed even in the most classic art) as a muscle-bound hunk. At the end, the attractive Samaritan would encourage everyone to try this water. (“‘Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”) The TV commercial would cost hundred of thousands of dollars but would reach millions and, just like the Biblical story, many people would believe in Jesus (and want a taste of that living water) because of the woman’s testimony.
As amusing as it is to envision a well-oiled marketing machine advertising this special “sports drink” that is the Messiah, the one we call Christ, I don’t believe this story is about that. There are even some wealthy churches who engage in glossy campaigns advertising Jesus like a commodity you can buy with your offering money. Again, I don’t believe this story is about that. Rather, the Gospel is a story of how the most ordinary kind of person can make an enormous impact in sharing the Good News.
The Samaritan woman was an outcast in the worst sense. She was a woman. Jewish men were not supposed to talk to strange women. She was a Samaritan. Jews were not supposed to talk to these second class citizens. And she was a fallen woman. She had been married, as one preacher put it, “as many times as Elizabeth Taylor,” and she was living in sin with her current man.5 She had “untouchable” written all over her, and yet the conversation Jesus had with her is the longest recorded conversation he has with anyone (male or female, Samaritan or otherwise) in the Gospels. To top things off, this fallen...Samaritan...woman was recognized by the author of John’s Gospel as the first evangelist, the first person to share the Good News of the Messiah and to subsequently bring many people to this Jewish rabbi who we now worship as Lord and Savior.
The story of the Samaritan woman at the well is a powerful lesson about who can be an evangelist of the Gospel. We are all sinners. While we may or may not endure the racism levied against Samaritans in first century Palestine, many of us have felt like outcasts in one way or another. And while being a woman is a significantly more respectable position in our modern world, women are still considered “second class citizens” by some, even in our 21st century American society. Men, too, sometimes fall under that label too because of their so-called “lifestyle,” or for various other reasons. The modern equivalent of the Samaritan woman may be a gay illegal immigrant who unflinchingly engages in unsafe sex. Yet even those of us who have less to worry about than the cruel labels associated with such a position in society often find ourselves feeling, or being considered, less than holy. The funny thing is, we are the ones Jesus is calling. We --sinners and outcasts -- are the ones Jesus wants to share the Good News. Certainly, Jesus will accept evangelists who are impeccably holy straight white men, but the rest of us (i.e. most of us) are not only welcomed but are among the first to whom Jesus spoke.
In case you haven’t grasped it yet, this is a really important lesson for all of us. We sometimes feel unworthy or embarrassed to engage in evangelism. Not only are we, perhaps, uncomfortable inviting other people to church because we know we have done unholy things -- i.e., we have sinned more times than we can count. We also think of evangelism as something “evangelical” churches do. Mainline Protestant churches like St. Mark’s are supposed to be quiet about our faith. The United Church of Christ, aware of this dilemma, even recently created a set of resources for congregational vitality called “the e-word.” We don’t even like the word “evangelism,” because it conjures up images of going door to door, being pushy, insisting that people “accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior” or face eternal damnation.
The thing is, we are all called to evangelize. The other thing is, evangelism doesn’t have to be pushy and it doesn’t have to insist that those who don’t accept our offer of living water will go to hell. My husband is not a Christian and I know and love many people who belong to other faiths or have no religious tradition. I accept them for who they are and am confident that the God in whom I believe does too. I also get annoyed when people come to my door and insist that I believe as they do, although I respect their perseverance -- theirs is not any easy task. This does not mean, however, that I am not called to share the Good News, that I am not called to offer the “enhanced water beverage” that is Jesus Christ, to those who are truly open to the message. As a sinful woman who will probably never quite get over being mercilessly bullied in junior high and high school, I can bring a message that there is someone who accepts me for who I am -- a short nerd who does many things wrong -- and who will accept those who are much worse off than me. I can share with them too, that there is a congregation that will accept them for who they are -- as Mary Carrigan put it a few weeks ago, “gay, straight, green, whatever.”
As the current pastor of St. Mark’s I am called to preach the Gospel every Sunday morning to whoever shows up here, but sharing the Gospel is not just the job of the pastor. In fact, this role should perhaps fall more strongly on the members of the congregation. The message of acceptance by a God who loves us, “no matter who we are, no matter where we are on life’s journey” may be most clearly heard when it comes from people who aren’t getting paid to share it and who aren’t viewed in some official capacity as an ambassador for Christ. Regardless of the truth, members of the clergy rarely carry quite the same stigma as the Samaritan woman at the well. When the promise of living water comes from someone whose well seems to have run dry, the message often carries more weight.
After worship this morning we will gather to begin what I hope will be the beginning of a visioning process for the future of St. Mark’s. In addition to dealing with the “nuts and bolts” (how to remain financially solvent, how to keep from closing), I hope we will talk about why we want to, and are called to keep the church going. St. Mark’s has been a presence in the Morrell Park community for 91 years. What is our role here? We’re sharing our building with the community -- an important ministry -- but are we, as members of this congregation, sharing the Gospel? Again, I don’t mean to say that we should expect or require those who meet in our church building to become members of St. Mark’s or even to darken the doors of our sanctuary. I don’t mean to say that we should tell people in the neighborhood around the church that they will not have access to any sort of living water (except, perhaps, the sports drink variety) if they don’t believe as we do, or even if they aren’t as accepting of outcasts as we consider ourselves to be. But Jesus is calling us -- yes, even us -- to share his story with those who are willing to listen.
I hope you will stay after church today, and will join us in future gatherings to talk about these things. We’re going to start slow, to get a feel for where we might want to go with this, but I have spoken with our Associate Conference Minister (for those of you who don’t know, her job is to work with United Church of Christ congregations in this region) about joining us in this process in the next couple of months. These are important conversations, and I hope you -- fallen Samaritan women and all -- will join us in both drinking of, and sharing, the living water that is Jesus the Christ.
Now let us pray.
1 Life Water web site, http://www.sobelifewater.com/. Accessed 23 Feb., 2008.
2 Water of Life Community Church web site, http://www.wateroflifecc.org/. Accessed 23 Feb., 2008.
3 Living Waters Lutheran Church (ELCA) web site, http://www.lwlc.net/. Accessed 23 Feb., 2008.
4 John 4:13-14.
5 Taylor, Barbara Brown, “Reflections on the Lectionary: Exodus 17:1-7; Romans 5:1-11; John 4:5-42,” The Christian Century, February 12, 2008, pg. 19.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Sermon 02/17/08 (John 3:1-17)
“Reborn, in One Way or Another”
John 3:1-17
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 17 February, 2008
Second Sunday in Lent
---
 Whenever I read this passage, the “John 3:16” verse jumps right out at me: “For God so loved the world, that God gave his only Son...” This verse doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the passage, and as soon as I hear “For God so loved the world” I forget about all the troubles of Nicodemus and focus on this “warm, fuzzy” grand verse of Christianity.
We have probably all heard this verse over and over, “For God so loved the world that God gave his only begotten Son...” Yet it is typically taught out of context. We rarely read the preceding verses. We choose, understandably, to focus on this verse, because the verses that come before it are confusing, and the proclamation of God’s love seems, and is, so important. I was tempted to ignore the rest of the passage too. But, I decided against it, and chose to search for the Gospel in the first verses about Nicodemus.
I remember studying this passage in my Greek class in seminary. My classmates and I talked at length about this idea of being reborn, and Nicodemus’ confusion with it.
Nicodemus here seems to be a bit dull. Jesus tells him that “no one can see the realm of God without being born from above” and Nicodemus just doesn’t get it. “Huh?” he asks. “How can somebody be born after they have already grown old? You can’t exactly stick the baby back inside the mother’s womb. It just doesn’t work that way. Besides, adults are a little big to be trying to get back in the womb!”
Poor Nicodemus. He just doesn’t get it! And Jesus rattles him for it too. “You’re a teacher of Israel, a rabbi, and you don’t understand these things?! What’s wrong with you?!” Jesus seems to be asking. “How could you not understand?!”
Now, like John 3:16, these verses too have been taken out of context by religious people throughout the years. Some have grasped onto John 3:5: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.” They have used this verse as a wall around the Gospel, to proclaim “who’s in” and “who’s out” of heaven, who will “be saved” when the end times come and who will not. The verse has also been used as a wall around the baptized and unbaptized: “Only those who have been baptized by water and Spirit, who have been baptized in the manner we claim is right will enter the kingdom of God.” Still others have latched onto the idea of being reborn. This passage has been used by those who believe that Christians must become “born again” in order to really be Christian.
The trouble is that the translation of the Bible that I usually use, the New Revised Standard, uses the phrase “born from above,” instead of “born again,” so we do not hear the emphasis on rebirth that other churches may hear when they use the more traditional translation, “born again.” Having studied the Greek, I believe the translation, “born from above,” is more accurate, but it doesn’t give us the full punch that people using other translations may hear.
Some use the “born again” phrase as another gate to the gospel. If you’re not born again, you’re not a REAL Christian. Others may consider themselves “reborn into faith” if they simply joined the church as an older adult.
In her book _Traveling Mercies_, author Anne Lamott struggles with this issue. Lamott grew up in a nonreligious household -- her parents thought religion was superstition, and as a young adult, Lamott herself became an avowed atheist. Years later, as Lamott was struggling with her own alcoholism and drug addictions, she continued to shun the church. Eventually, however, when she hit rock bottom, she called a local pastor and begged for help. Thus began her slow entry into the church. Lamott was baptized as a Presbyterian in her mid-thirties and became active in the life of the church and as a Christian.
Some time after joining the church, Lamott encountered a man who asked her if she was “born again,” and Lamott didn’t really know what to say. Sure, in a sense she had been born again. She had found new life with the support of the church, and she was now recovering from her addictions and finding peace. But she was not really accustomed to using the phrase “born again” to describe herself. It’s not a phrase common in her Presbyterian church, even though the phrase may actually describe her own experience.1
So, what does it mean to be born again?! I have to admit that I cringe when I hear people use this phrase. I immediately think of ultra-conservative churches that say anyone who does not believe in the same manner they do is going to hell. When I hear the phrase “born again Christian,” I think of “those people over there who are not at all like the United Church of Christ and who think we are all heathens.” When I hear the phrase “born again” I often think of it in a negative sense. And yet, here Jesus is telling Nicodemus that no one can enter the kingdom of God without being “born from above,” or “born again.” Nicodemus struggles to understand what this might mean, how it is possible to be born once one has exited the mother’s womb and grown old already. Yet Jesus insists that in order to enter the kingdom of God, it is essential to be “born of water and Spirit.”
Okay, so maybe being “born again” is not such a bad thing, or at least maybe we should not scoff at the idea so quickly. I don’t mean being “born again” in the manner that some evangelical churches mean it, as a gate to holiness. But perhaps it is important to consider the idea of rebirth, renewal in the Holy Spirit. Without Spirit, we become a bunch of dead Christians, not worth much.
Nicodemus doesn’t seem to get it. He looks at Jesus and says, “Huh?!” I’m not sure my own response would be any more clever. So, where can we find some answers?! What does this rebirth mean?!
The renowned Biblical scholar Rudolf Bultmann suggests that “rebirth means -- and this is precisely the point made by Nicodemus’ misunderstanding -- something more than an improvement in [humankind]; it means that [humankind] receives a new origin, and this is manifestly something which [humankind] cannot give itself.”2 That is, a new life in Christ requires dependence on God. You’ve got to relinquish control over your own life. It is impossible for a human being to procure his or her own salvation -- God must do it!
When I read Bultmann’s explanation of the text, I felt like I had been hit between the eyes. I tend to be a control freak, I hate the idea of losing control or flying into chaos, so the idea of letting go of that control is both frightening and immensely liberating.
And now the connection between the bumbling Nicodemus who cannot understand rebirth, and the later verse in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that God gave his only Son...” becomes clear. God loves humankind so much that God compels us to let go, to allow ourselves to give up the tight control we hold over our own lives, to be reborn in the Spirit, that is to be renewed by our relinquishing of control!
Bultmann emphasizes the idea that we must give up our human origin and allow our origin to be of God. When we do this, we allow ourselves to draw closer to God, to be in relationship with God, to let go.
Herein lies the good news, the Gospel I was searching for in this first part of this scripture! Being “born again” is not a wall around the Gospel after all -- it is a welcoming with open arms, calling us into relationship with God! If we only allow God to be our comfort and our origin, if we only allow God to bathe us in God’s spirit, God will do it!
Now, I don’t believe that “letting go and letting God” will erase every trouble from our lives. We will still endure hardships, struggles, pain. I also do not believe that people who are not reborn will go to hell. But what I do grasp in these confusing words of Jesus is the idea that God will be with us if only we allow God to be, if only we allow ourselves to accept new birth into relationship with God, if only we stop trying to save ourselves and let God do it. God will be with us in relationship, God will comfort us, take control when we are trying too hard to avoid chaos. God will hold us close.
“For God so loved the world, that God gave God’s only Son” to be our salvation, because God knew we couldn’t do it ourselves. God so loved the world that God chose to enter into relationship with humankind, through the human person of Jesus, to walk beside us throughout life, if only we would open ourselves to rebirth.
Now let us pray.
1 Lamott, Anne, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Anchor, 1999), p. 61.
2 Bultmann, Rudolph, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. G.R. Beasley-Murray, R.W.N. Hoare, and J.K. Riches (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1971), p. 137.
John 3:1-17
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 17 February, 2008
Second Sunday in Lent
---
 Whenever I read this passage, the “John 3:16” verse jumps right out at me: “For God so loved the world, that God gave his only Son...” This verse doesn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the passage, and as soon as I hear “For God so loved the world” I forget about all the troubles of Nicodemus and focus on this “warm, fuzzy” grand verse of Christianity.
We have probably all heard this verse over and over, “For God so loved the world that God gave his only begotten Son...” Yet it is typically taught out of context. We rarely read the preceding verses. We choose, understandably, to focus on this verse, because the verses that come before it are confusing, and the proclamation of God’s love seems, and is, so important. I was tempted to ignore the rest of the passage too. But, I decided against it, and chose to search for the Gospel in the first verses about Nicodemus.
I remember studying this passage in my Greek class in seminary. My classmates and I talked at length about this idea of being reborn, and Nicodemus’ confusion with it.
Nicodemus here seems to be a bit dull. Jesus tells him that “no one can see the realm of God without being born from above” and Nicodemus just doesn’t get it. “Huh?” he asks. “How can somebody be born after they have already grown old? You can’t exactly stick the baby back inside the mother’s womb. It just doesn’t work that way. Besides, adults are a little big to be trying to get back in the womb!”
Poor Nicodemus. He just doesn’t get it! And Jesus rattles him for it too. “You’re a teacher of Israel, a rabbi, and you don’t understand these things?! What’s wrong with you?!” Jesus seems to be asking. “How could you not understand?!”
Now, like John 3:16, these verses too have been taken out of context by religious people throughout the years. Some have grasped onto John 3:5: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.” They have used this verse as a wall around the Gospel, to proclaim “who’s in” and “who’s out” of heaven, who will “be saved” when the end times come and who will not. The verse has also been used as a wall around the baptized and unbaptized: “Only those who have been baptized by water and Spirit, who have been baptized in the manner we claim is right will enter the kingdom of God.” Still others have latched onto the idea of being reborn. This passage has been used by those who believe that Christians must become “born again” in order to really be Christian.
The trouble is that the translation of the Bible that I usually use, the New Revised Standard, uses the phrase “born from above,” instead of “born again,” so we do not hear the emphasis on rebirth that other churches may hear when they use the more traditional translation, “born again.” Having studied the Greek, I believe the translation, “born from above,” is more accurate, but it doesn’t give us the full punch that people using other translations may hear.
Some use the “born again” phrase as another gate to the gospel. If you’re not born again, you’re not a REAL Christian. Others may consider themselves “reborn into faith” if they simply joined the church as an older adult.
In her book _Traveling Mercies_, author Anne Lamott struggles with this issue. Lamott grew up in a nonreligious household -- her parents thought religion was superstition, and as a young adult, Lamott herself became an avowed atheist. Years later, as Lamott was struggling with her own alcoholism and drug addictions, she continued to shun the church. Eventually, however, when she hit rock bottom, she called a local pastor and begged for help. Thus began her slow entry into the church. Lamott was baptized as a Presbyterian in her mid-thirties and became active in the life of the church and as a Christian.
Some time after joining the church, Lamott encountered a man who asked her if she was “born again,” and Lamott didn’t really know what to say. Sure, in a sense she had been born again. She had found new life with the support of the church, and she was now recovering from her addictions and finding peace. But she was not really accustomed to using the phrase “born again” to describe herself. It’s not a phrase common in her Presbyterian church, even though the phrase may actually describe her own experience.1
So, what does it mean to be born again?! I have to admit that I cringe when I hear people use this phrase. I immediately think of ultra-conservative churches that say anyone who does not believe in the same manner they do is going to hell. When I hear the phrase “born again Christian,” I think of “those people over there who are not at all like the United Church of Christ and who think we are all heathens.” When I hear the phrase “born again” I often think of it in a negative sense. And yet, here Jesus is telling Nicodemus that no one can enter the kingdom of God without being “born from above,” or “born again.” Nicodemus struggles to understand what this might mean, how it is possible to be born once one has exited the mother’s womb and grown old already. Yet Jesus insists that in order to enter the kingdom of God, it is essential to be “born of water and Spirit.”
Okay, so maybe being “born again” is not such a bad thing, or at least maybe we should not scoff at the idea so quickly. I don’t mean being “born again” in the manner that some evangelical churches mean it, as a gate to holiness. But perhaps it is important to consider the idea of rebirth, renewal in the Holy Spirit. Without Spirit, we become a bunch of dead Christians, not worth much.
Nicodemus doesn’t seem to get it. He looks at Jesus and says, “Huh?!” I’m not sure my own response would be any more clever. So, where can we find some answers?! What does this rebirth mean?!
The renowned Biblical scholar Rudolf Bultmann suggests that “rebirth means -- and this is precisely the point made by Nicodemus’ misunderstanding -- something more than an improvement in [humankind]; it means that [humankind] receives a new origin, and this is manifestly something which [humankind] cannot give itself.”2 That is, a new life in Christ requires dependence on God. You’ve got to relinquish control over your own life. It is impossible for a human being to procure his or her own salvation -- God must do it!
When I read Bultmann’s explanation of the text, I felt like I had been hit between the eyes. I tend to be a control freak, I hate the idea of losing control or flying into chaos, so the idea of letting go of that control is both frightening and immensely liberating.
And now the connection between the bumbling Nicodemus who cannot understand rebirth, and the later verse in John 3:16, “For God so loved the world that God gave his only Son...” becomes clear. God loves humankind so much that God compels us to let go, to allow ourselves to give up the tight control we hold over our own lives, to be reborn in the Spirit, that is to be renewed by our relinquishing of control!
Bultmann emphasizes the idea that we must give up our human origin and allow our origin to be of God. When we do this, we allow ourselves to draw closer to God, to be in relationship with God, to let go.
Herein lies the good news, the Gospel I was searching for in this first part of this scripture! Being “born again” is not a wall around the Gospel after all -- it is a welcoming with open arms, calling us into relationship with God! If we only allow God to be our comfort and our origin, if we only allow God to bathe us in God’s spirit, God will do it!
Now, I don’t believe that “letting go and letting God” will erase every trouble from our lives. We will still endure hardships, struggles, pain. I also do not believe that people who are not reborn will go to hell. But what I do grasp in these confusing words of Jesus is the idea that God will be with us if only we allow God to be, if only we allow ourselves to accept new birth into relationship with God, if only we stop trying to save ourselves and let God do it. God will be with us in relationship, God will comfort us, take control when we are trying too hard to avoid chaos. God will hold us close.
“For God so loved the world, that God gave God’s only Son” to be our salvation, because God knew we couldn’t do it ourselves. God so loved the world that God chose to enter into relationship with humankind, through the human person of Jesus, to walk beside us throughout life, if only we would open ourselves to rebirth.
Now let us pray.
1 Lamott, Anne, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith (New York: Anchor, 1999), p. 61.
2 Bultmann, Rudolph, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, trans. G.R. Beasley-Murray, R.W.N. Hoare, and J.K. Riches (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1971), p. 137.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Sermon 02/10/08 (Matthew 4:1-11)
“Self-Control: It’s What’s for Dinner!”
Matthew 4:1-11
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 10 February, 2008
First Sunday in Lent
 The season of Lent means different things to different people. It is agreed that Lent marks the forty days and forty nights before Easter -- a reminder of this morning’s Gospel: Jesus “fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.” But the importance that modern-day Christians give to the season of Lent varies.
For some, Lent is a period of reflection and prayer, a time to deepen one’s relationship with God. In that same light, others focus on Lent as a time of special commitment. Some center on Lent as the journey to the Cross, a reminder of Christ’s crucifixion -- the shadow that must be remembered before we celebrate the Resurrection. Still others see the Lenten season as a special time for repentance from sin. And one preacher I know preaches about Lent as the journey back home, toward the Realm of God.
But for some, Lent is primarily about... TEMPTATION... avoiding it, that is! Throughout the ages, this morning’s story about Jesus resisting the temptation of Satan has been translated into strict rules about what one may and may not do during the season of Lent. Tied both to the ideas of repentance and the journey to the Cross, many people feel the need to give something up during the season of Lent. I believe last year I told you about my habit of giving up “odd” things during Lent, such as popcorn or raisins. I won’t share with you what I have committed to this year (remember the Ash Wednesday gospel about fasting in private), but many Christians around the world are well on their way to the “misery” of resisting temptation during the season of Lent.
Catholics and others often choose to give up meat during Lent. Some churches encourage their members to temporarily give up certain, um, enjoyable activities. And while the notion of “going without” during the season of Lent is not as common as it once was, many Christians continue to adhere as strictly as they can to the “rules” they set out for themselves during what is supposed to be a holy season.
The movie “Chocolat,” which takes place in 1960, is a perfect example of the resistance to temptation gone wrong. In the film, an eccentric woman named Vianne, and her daughter, move into a provincial French village smack dab in the middle of the Lenten season. This would not be a problem...except that Vianne wants to open up a chocolate shop despite the fact that the entire village, at the insistence of the mayor, has given up chocolate (and anything else enjoyable) for Lent. The mayor does all he can to keep Vianne from opening her shop, and when he is unable to do so, he begins a boycott on the shop.
Trouble is, Vianne is extraordinarily skilled at making chocolates, and despite the “pious” efforts of the mayor, more than a few “rebel” members of the community visit Vianne’s shop and taste her forbidden fruits. Truth be told, she serves up more than chocolate. She serves pure joy, in her eccentric but kind presence and in her willingness to accept those who were otherwise outcasts in the village. Although Vianne is not a practicing Christian, she seems to know more about the love of God than the most “pious” residents of the town.
Ultimately, the town, and even the mayor, soften to her. Late one night the mayor himself gives into his temptation after breaking into her shop and gorging himself on the chocolate shop’s entire window display. In his shame, he realizes that his behavior toward Vianne and company -- behavior which, at one point, reaches a level of violence -- says little about the season of Lent. ...And it is certainly not holy.
The “pious” but unholy characters in “Chocolat,” and many of us today, try to resist temptation because we think it is the right thing to do, or as a sort of competition with ourselves, just to see if we can do it. The idea to resist temptation during Lent originally derived from Jesus’ resistance of “the tempter,” but sometimes our own struggles to resist have very little to do with the God who is the center of this morning’s Gospel.
Let’s look at the Gospel again. What is it really saying? And what can we get from it, besides encouragement to stay away from chocolate or enjoyable activities for forty days and forty nights?
Notice, for example, that the three temptations Jesus faces from Satan all have to do with becoming like God. Satan does not tempt Jesus with delicious chocolates or with some other “temptation” that we modern Christians may choose to give up for Lent. Satan tests Jesus with the temptation toward Godlike power. And Jesus, divine though he may be, answers in the manner that any religious Jew should. Even if Jesus could change stones into bread, throw himself down a cliff and survive, or bow down before Satan, he chooses not to because he knows that to do so would be to turn from the God that is both his parent and his Lord. Jesus’ strong responses to those temptations, therefore, revolve around the complete seriousness with which one is to take the most important of the commandments, from Deuteronomy 6:4-5: “The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”
Our own resistance to temptation should fall along similar lines. Lent is not about resisting temptation for the sake of resisting temptation. It is not about avoiding things just to say we can or just to wallow in the misery of want, and it is not even about punishing ourselves before God. If you choose to give something up during this Lenten season -- or if you choose not to -- make your choice and do so for the glory of God. Do so because you love God, not because you love the fact that you can, indeed, resist that chocolate (or popcorn or raisins or whatever).
Biblical scholar Douglas Hare points out that it may be a little difficult for us everyday followers of Christ to really identify with this temptation story from Matthew. We do not “hold conversations with a visible devil, nor are we whisked from place to place as Jesus is in the story.” We know that we can’t turn stones into bread and that it would be a very bad idea for us to jump off a cliff. Besides, “what did Jesus know about the temptations that are faced daily by the recovering alcoholic and substance abuser? the lonely divorcée? the struggling business owner? the teenager who covets acceptance above all?” As Hare notes, “there is, however, a common denominator that links all of these with the temptations ascribed to Jesus. The basic, underlying temptation that Jesus shared with us is the temptation to treat God as less than God.”1
During this holy season of Lent, remember that. Be aware of the ways in which you treat God. Allow that awareness to shape your behavior, and to deepen your relationship with God. And do all of this with prayer. Now let us pray.
1 Douglas R. A. Hare, _Matthew_ (Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1993) 26.
Matthew 4:1-11
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 10 February, 2008
First Sunday in Lent
 The season of Lent means different things to different people. It is agreed that Lent marks the forty days and forty nights before Easter -- a reminder of this morning’s Gospel: Jesus “fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.” But the importance that modern-day Christians give to the season of Lent varies.
For some, Lent is a period of reflection and prayer, a time to deepen one’s relationship with God. In that same light, others focus on Lent as a time of special commitment. Some center on Lent as the journey to the Cross, a reminder of Christ’s crucifixion -- the shadow that must be remembered before we celebrate the Resurrection. Still others see the Lenten season as a special time for repentance from sin. And one preacher I know preaches about Lent as the journey back home, toward the Realm of God.
But for some, Lent is primarily about... TEMPTATION... avoiding it, that is! Throughout the ages, this morning’s story about Jesus resisting the temptation of Satan has been translated into strict rules about what one may and may not do during the season of Lent. Tied both to the ideas of repentance and the journey to the Cross, many people feel the need to give something up during the season of Lent. I believe last year I told you about my habit of giving up “odd” things during Lent, such as popcorn or raisins. I won’t share with you what I have committed to this year (remember the Ash Wednesday gospel about fasting in private), but many Christians around the world are well on their way to the “misery” of resisting temptation during the season of Lent.
Catholics and others often choose to give up meat during Lent. Some churches encourage their members to temporarily give up certain, um, enjoyable activities. And while the notion of “going without” during the season of Lent is not as common as it once was, many Christians continue to adhere as strictly as they can to the “rules” they set out for themselves during what is supposed to be a holy season.
The movie “Chocolat,” which takes place in 1960, is a perfect example of the resistance to temptation gone wrong. In the film, an eccentric woman named Vianne, and her daughter, move into a provincial French village smack dab in the middle of the Lenten season. This would not be a problem...except that Vianne wants to open up a chocolate shop despite the fact that the entire village, at the insistence of the mayor, has given up chocolate (and anything else enjoyable) for Lent. The mayor does all he can to keep Vianne from opening her shop, and when he is unable to do so, he begins a boycott on the shop.
Trouble is, Vianne is extraordinarily skilled at making chocolates, and despite the “pious” efforts of the mayor, more than a few “rebel” members of the community visit Vianne’s shop and taste her forbidden fruits. Truth be told, she serves up more than chocolate. She serves pure joy, in her eccentric but kind presence and in her willingness to accept those who were otherwise outcasts in the village. Although Vianne is not a practicing Christian, she seems to know more about the love of God than the most “pious” residents of the town.
Ultimately, the town, and even the mayor, soften to her. Late one night the mayor himself gives into his temptation after breaking into her shop and gorging himself on the chocolate shop’s entire window display. In his shame, he realizes that his behavior toward Vianne and company -- behavior which, at one point, reaches a level of violence -- says little about the season of Lent. ...And it is certainly not holy.
The “pious” but unholy characters in “Chocolat,” and many of us today, try to resist temptation because we think it is the right thing to do, or as a sort of competition with ourselves, just to see if we can do it. The idea to resist temptation during Lent originally derived from Jesus’ resistance of “the tempter,” but sometimes our own struggles to resist have very little to do with the God who is the center of this morning’s Gospel.
Let’s look at the Gospel again. What is it really saying? And what can we get from it, besides encouragement to stay away from chocolate or enjoyable activities for forty days and forty nights?
Notice, for example, that the three temptations Jesus faces from Satan all have to do with becoming like God. Satan does not tempt Jesus with delicious chocolates or with some other “temptation” that we modern Christians may choose to give up for Lent. Satan tests Jesus with the temptation toward Godlike power. And Jesus, divine though he may be, answers in the manner that any religious Jew should. Even if Jesus could change stones into bread, throw himself down a cliff and survive, or bow down before Satan, he chooses not to because he knows that to do so would be to turn from the God that is both his parent and his Lord. Jesus’ strong responses to those temptations, therefore, revolve around the complete seriousness with which one is to take the most important of the commandments, from Deuteronomy 6:4-5: “The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might.”
Our own resistance to temptation should fall along similar lines. Lent is not about resisting temptation for the sake of resisting temptation. It is not about avoiding things just to say we can or just to wallow in the misery of want, and it is not even about punishing ourselves before God. If you choose to give something up during this Lenten season -- or if you choose not to -- make your choice and do so for the glory of God. Do so because you love God, not because you love the fact that you can, indeed, resist that chocolate (or popcorn or raisins or whatever).
Biblical scholar Douglas Hare points out that it may be a little difficult for us everyday followers of Christ to really identify with this temptation story from Matthew. We do not “hold conversations with a visible devil, nor are we whisked from place to place as Jesus is in the story.” We know that we can’t turn stones into bread and that it would be a very bad idea for us to jump off a cliff. Besides, “what did Jesus know about the temptations that are faced daily by the recovering alcoholic and substance abuser? the lonely divorcée? the struggling business owner? the teenager who covets acceptance above all?” As Hare notes, “there is, however, a common denominator that links all of these with the temptations ascribed to Jesus. The basic, underlying temptation that Jesus shared with us is the temptation to treat God as less than God.”1
During this holy season of Lent, remember that. Be aware of the ways in which you treat God. Allow that awareness to shape your behavior, and to deepen your relationship with God. And do all of this with prayer. Now let us pray.
1 Douglas R. A. Hare, _Matthew_ (Interpretation, A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1993) 26.
Sermon 02/03/08 (2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9)
“The Beloved Transformed”
2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 3 February, 2008
Transfiguration Sunday
 This past week I watched the premier of the new television show “Eli Stone.” It’s not a great show and I don’t think I’ll continue watching it, but it does have an interesting premise. The protagonist, Eli Stone, is a faithless lawyer at a big firm in San Francisco. He doesn’t seem like a particularly bad guy, but he’s not a particularly good guy either. Then something happens. He begins experiencing hallucinations, first seeing and hearing George Michael sing his hit song “Faith” in the middle of his living room. This leads him to a forgotten memory, that the plaintiff in his current case is, in fact, someone he knew briefly. He switches sides in the middle of the case and begins representing the woman, who is suing a major pharmaceutical company over the illness of her son. He realizes her son’s fate is more important than the bottom line.
More hallucinations follow, and Eli continues his journey of self-discovery. He seeks medical attention, realizing that these hallucinations are not “normal,” and he learns that a brain aneurysm is the probable cause of his visions. Despite the fact that the visions are the result of a medical condition, he likes the changes he is beginning to make in his life and the reconciliations he is beginning to find with his past. His acupuncturist, a wise man, tells him that most religions of the world revere certain people and that “sometimes, they call them prophets.” Such a notion is strange to Eli, who still doesn’t believe in God, but he does feel that something is leading him to make a difference in the world. Brain aneurysm or not, he is willing to take on this new role.
Our reading from 2 Peter speaks of prophecy and “the goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love” with which the prophet is to uphold him- or herself. Whereas Eli Stone had been “short-sighted and blind, and forgetful of the cleansing of past sins,” he came to embrace a life of self-control and goodness.
With his lack of belief, Eli makes an unlikely prophet, but those of us who do believe in God can recognize that this young man has been transformed. We can conclude, too, that his transformation from self-absorbed to selfless is nothing short of holy. I don’t know if, in later episodes, Eli will begin to embrace faith, but I can easily make the connection that Eli is being called. He is being called to lead those around him to a better life, and to reach out to the downtrodden in love. He is, in other words, becoming the sort of prophet of whom we Christians can be proud. He has been transformed.
Today marks Transfiguration Sunday, when we recall Jesus’ trip up the mountain and his transfiguration before Peter, James, and John, Moses and Elijah. “And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. […] Suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’”
The beloved of God was transformed before their very eyes! While Peter, James, and John watched in amazement, the great prophets of old, Moses and Elijah, appeared. A great cloud overcame them. Jesus shone like the sun. It was a magical, life-altering experience. ...Not quite George Michael in your living room, but even more spectacular than that! Although Jesus implores them not to share what they have just seen, the three men have clearly been transformed. Again, the beloved transformed. Surely followers of Jesus -- ourselves included -- are not children of God in the same sense that Jesus is God’s Son, but we, too, are God’s beloved. Peter, James, and John could never have been the same after their encounter with Jesus and the prophets on that mountain. These three men had been chosen to witness Jesus’ transfiguration -- they had been called, as the beloved of God, into their own transformation.
Of course, holy transformation, and the call of God, are rarely so obvious (they’re not even usually that obvious for Biblical characters). It took TV character Eli Stone some time and a great deal of difficulty to discern the spiritual/emotional reasons he was experiencing his particular hallucinations. If we believe that his transformation was, indeed, at the hand of God, we can perhaps relate more closely to the circuitous way in which he was called, than to the mountaintop experience of Peter, James, and John. While the call from God is always magical, it rarely comes with a thundering voice in the midst of a cloud: “This is my Son, the beloved; listen to him!”
Since we do not have the luxury of being hit in the head by a two by four by God, we don’t always recognize that God is calling us. But even if it comes in more subtle ways, there are surely times in our lives when we have all been transformed and called. Can you think of times in which God may have been speaking to you, asking you to make changes to your life? While I do not believe that God makes us sick for the sole purpose of getting our attention, it is true that illness can be a wake-up call, and God may be speaking to us through the unfortunate event of our illness. We don’t have to experience fantastic visions of George Michael in our living room or a San Francisco trolley in the middle of our office building (another fun scene in the show) in order to hear God speaking to us.
Hard times in our lives can do one of two things. They can make us bitter, heartless, and cause us to lose our faith in God and all that is good. It is understandable when we feel this way after a terrible trauma in our lives, and I believe that God understands if we respond in anger and disbelief in God for a time. But after the initial shock, after the initial grief, we can begin to move in the other direction. Eli Stone moved far too quickly, in my opinion, from shock at the fact that he could die at any moment, to the full embracing of his new chance at life, but his transformation is instructive. While we may spend days, months, or even years grieving a personal loss -- the death or departure of someone we love, our own health problems, or some other struggle -- it is never to late to turn around and make something good of it. What can the experience teach us? Are we, too, being called by God? Perhaps, like Eli, God is calling us to be an advocate for those in need. Perhaps God is calling us to change our outlook on life and to begin to lead a more holy existence. Perhaps God is calling us, in fact, to be prophetic -- the raise our voices in the name of God.
Whether it is a time of personal difficulty, or one of the happiest moments of your lives, I encourage you to listen for God’s voice in the midst of it. You, too, are beloved by God. Will you let God transform you? Will you embrace “the goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love” of which Peter speaks?
Open your hearts and your minds and your ears to the call and the transformation. Now let us pray.
2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 3 February, 2008
Transfiguration Sunday
 This past week I watched the premier of the new television show “Eli Stone.” It’s not a great show and I don’t think I’ll continue watching it, but it does have an interesting premise. The protagonist, Eli Stone, is a faithless lawyer at a big firm in San Francisco. He doesn’t seem like a particularly bad guy, but he’s not a particularly good guy either. Then something happens. He begins experiencing hallucinations, first seeing and hearing George Michael sing his hit song “Faith” in the middle of his living room. This leads him to a forgotten memory, that the plaintiff in his current case is, in fact, someone he knew briefly. He switches sides in the middle of the case and begins representing the woman, who is suing a major pharmaceutical company over the illness of her son. He realizes her son’s fate is more important than the bottom line.
More hallucinations follow, and Eli continues his journey of self-discovery. He seeks medical attention, realizing that these hallucinations are not “normal,” and he learns that a brain aneurysm is the probable cause of his visions. Despite the fact that the visions are the result of a medical condition, he likes the changes he is beginning to make in his life and the reconciliations he is beginning to find with his past. His acupuncturist, a wise man, tells him that most religions of the world revere certain people and that “sometimes, they call them prophets.” Such a notion is strange to Eli, who still doesn’t believe in God, but he does feel that something is leading him to make a difference in the world. Brain aneurysm or not, he is willing to take on this new role.
Our reading from 2 Peter speaks of prophecy and “the goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love” with which the prophet is to uphold him- or herself. Whereas Eli Stone had been “short-sighted and blind, and forgetful of the cleansing of past sins,” he came to embrace a life of self-control and goodness.
With his lack of belief, Eli makes an unlikely prophet, but those of us who do believe in God can recognize that this young man has been transformed. We can conclude, too, that his transformation from self-absorbed to selfless is nothing short of holy. I don’t know if, in later episodes, Eli will begin to embrace faith, but I can easily make the connection that Eli is being called. He is being called to lead those around him to a better life, and to reach out to the downtrodden in love. He is, in other words, becoming the sort of prophet of whom we Christians can be proud. He has been transformed.
Today marks Transfiguration Sunday, when we recall Jesus’ trip up the mountain and his transfiguration before Peter, James, and John, Moses and Elijah. “And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. […] Suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’”
The beloved of God was transformed before their very eyes! While Peter, James, and John watched in amazement, the great prophets of old, Moses and Elijah, appeared. A great cloud overcame them. Jesus shone like the sun. It was a magical, life-altering experience. ...Not quite George Michael in your living room, but even more spectacular than that! Although Jesus implores them not to share what they have just seen, the three men have clearly been transformed. Again, the beloved transformed. Surely followers of Jesus -- ourselves included -- are not children of God in the same sense that Jesus is God’s Son, but we, too, are God’s beloved. Peter, James, and John could never have been the same after their encounter with Jesus and the prophets on that mountain. These three men had been chosen to witness Jesus’ transfiguration -- they had been called, as the beloved of God, into their own transformation.
Of course, holy transformation, and the call of God, are rarely so obvious (they’re not even usually that obvious for Biblical characters). It took TV character Eli Stone some time and a great deal of difficulty to discern the spiritual/emotional reasons he was experiencing his particular hallucinations. If we believe that his transformation was, indeed, at the hand of God, we can perhaps relate more closely to the circuitous way in which he was called, than to the mountaintop experience of Peter, James, and John. While the call from God is always magical, it rarely comes with a thundering voice in the midst of a cloud: “This is my Son, the beloved; listen to him!”
Since we do not have the luxury of being hit in the head by a two by four by God, we don’t always recognize that God is calling us. But even if it comes in more subtle ways, there are surely times in our lives when we have all been transformed and called. Can you think of times in which God may have been speaking to you, asking you to make changes to your life? While I do not believe that God makes us sick for the sole purpose of getting our attention, it is true that illness can be a wake-up call, and God may be speaking to us through the unfortunate event of our illness. We don’t have to experience fantastic visions of George Michael in our living room or a San Francisco trolley in the middle of our office building (another fun scene in the show) in order to hear God speaking to us.
Hard times in our lives can do one of two things. They can make us bitter, heartless, and cause us to lose our faith in God and all that is good. It is understandable when we feel this way after a terrible trauma in our lives, and I believe that God understands if we respond in anger and disbelief in God for a time. But after the initial shock, after the initial grief, we can begin to move in the other direction. Eli Stone moved far too quickly, in my opinion, from shock at the fact that he could die at any moment, to the full embracing of his new chance at life, but his transformation is instructive. While we may spend days, months, or even years grieving a personal loss -- the death or departure of someone we love, our own health problems, or some other struggle -- it is never to late to turn around and make something good of it. What can the experience teach us? Are we, too, being called by God? Perhaps, like Eli, God is calling us to be an advocate for those in need. Perhaps God is calling us to change our outlook on life and to begin to lead a more holy existence. Perhaps God is calling us, in fact, to be prophetic -- the raise our voices in the name of God.
Whether it is a time of personal difficulty, or one of the happiest moments of your lives, I encourage you to listen for God’s voice in the midst of it. You, too, are beloved by God. Will you let God transform you? Will you embrace “the goodness, and goodness with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with endurance, and endurance with godliness, and godliness with mutual affection, and mutual affection with love” of which Peter speaks?
Open your hearts and your minds and your ears to the call and the transformation. Now let us pray.
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