Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Sermon 06/22/08 (Matthew 9:35-10:8)

“Gospel in a Drowning Land”
Matthew 9:35-10:8
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 22 June, 2008
Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time
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 In 1997 Eastern North Dakota and Western Minnesota experienced what they referred to as a 500 year flood.  The record snowfall melted too quickly and the spring rains came too hard, and the Red River kept rising.  Fargo was hit pretty hard, but the city of Grand Forks, where my father grew up, was the worst.  No amount of sandbagging could hold back the rising river.  Then, after days of fighting the flood waters, a fire started.  Now, you would think that a fire wouldn’t be a big deal when surrounded by so much water.  The trouble was, fire crews were unable to make it through the flooded streets.  Downtown Grand Forks burned, and a number of buildings were completely destroyed, after already being heavily damaged by the flood.  There was nothing anyone could do about it.

  I am very grateful that my parents’ house in Fargo was on high enough ground that they only got a little water in the basement.  Many houses in Fargo, Grand Forks, and all along the Red River were destroyed.  Then there were the farms.  Crops that had already been planted were drowned, and there was no hope of planting anything else in the sodden ground.  The livelihood of countless farmers was washed away with the flood.  The Great Flood of ’97 washed away lives and brought heartache.

  Last year Grand Forks marked the 10 year anniversary of the flood with thanksgiving and a new sense of hope.  It took a number of years, but the city has come back better than before.  Downtown has been rebuilt, the university and the air force base continue to bring in new residents, and Grand Forks is thriving.  People of faith are crying “Praise God!”

  As people of Eastern North Dakota remember the eleventh anniversary this year, I can only imagine how their hearts are aching as they watch a similar flood drench another part of the Midwest.  As we all know, Iowa and other parts of the central United States are enduring catastrophic flooding after a series of tornadoes and relentless rains. Homes have washed away, cities are under water, and farm land is swamped. It’s the Great Flood of ‘97 all over again, except now we have the fresh images of Hurricane Katrina stuck in our minds, so the devastation looks all too familiar.

The destruction in the central United States follows two major natural disasters overseas. First, there was the cyclone in Myanmar. Then the earthquake in China. Neither of those countries will recover for years to come, and the same will be true for the Midwestern United States. We will not even have a good handle on the level of destruction until the flood waters have receded. Only then will the mud and grime and mold and rot show themselves. Only then does it become clear what has floated away and what is still standing.

At times like these, when our world seems so battered and broken, it is hard to figure out where God is or what God is doing. The word “gospel” means good news, and it is hard to find good news in a world that literally seems to be crumbling beneath our feet. How can we proclaim the gospel when our brothers and sisters are suffering so? Where is the good news?!

It is, indeed, difficult to find hope when we watch on TV as houses -- in Myanmar or Iowa -- are washed down a raging river. It is hard to find hope when we see the tears of people -- in Missouri, in China, in Myanmar -- who have lost everything they own and have, in some cases, lost members of their families. We wonder where God is and why on earth we are not standing in three feet of water in our living room.

Then we come upon this morning’s scripture: “When [Jesus] saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” He had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless. He had compassion for them. The words that follow these may give you insight into where you can, in fact, find hope in times like these: “Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.’”

At first glance, the words about “the harvest being plentiful” may grate on one’s nerves in light of the many acres of farmland that have been destroyed and the number of farmers who will have no crop to harvest this year. It is likely, in fact, that many small family farmers will be pushed out of business permanently because they simply cannot afford a year without a harvest. But the agricultural language used by Jesus was one that his listeners could understand, and it is one that most people from the Midwestern United States can understand as well.

It’s true that in this case, the harvest is far from plentiful. But enormous amounts of labor will still be required, as residents of these drowned places attempt to recover their lives. There may not be plentiful harvest, but there is more work to do than there are locals who can do it. Christ, therefore, is calling us, his disciples, to go to those harassed and helpless folk: “As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment.”

I was overseas when the flood of ‘97 hit, but I know that it was the hard work and good deeds of outsiders that lifted the hearts of those whose lives seemed washed away. That recovery effort is finally done in the areas along the Red River of the North, but much remains in the news about volunteers who continue to help rebuilding New Orleans and the other areas devastated by Hurricane Katrina.

In times like these, when hearts have been broken by natural disaster, they begin to mend with the outpouring of love from those who see their plight. The good news about the realm of God can actually seep through the muck and the tears when it is brought by people who have come to help. As Christians, we are compelled to love our neighbors in China, in Myanmar, in Wisconsin, and to find some way of showing them our love. Of course, we pray. We may also send money through the UCC Disaster Response Funds or other relief organizations. There has been difficulty distributing aid to Myanmar and China due to political tensions, but that doesn’t mean we stop trying. We may write letters to people in areas affected by the disasters, share artwork, send words of hope. Or we may, indeed, go to the areas themselves and provide the labor of our hands.

When Jesus commissioned his disciples he was not just calling on twelve fishermen. He was calling on all who follow him to do the hard work of discipleship. You may not have the ability to send $100 for relief efforts or go tear down flood-damaged houses and build new ones. But you must find some way to help. Simply saying “I’m too busy” isn’t good enough. Even if the only thing you can do is pray, then do a whole lot of praying. If you can write a letter to someone -- maybe to one of the UCC churches in Iowa that has been damaged by the flood -- then do that. Or simply talk about the events. Don’t let the people of Myanmar be forgotten. Don’t let the people of China be forgotten. We are less likely to forget our own American Midwesterners, but make sure they’re not forgotten too. Remember, it will be a very long time before these places recover, and remembering their plight will take a whole lot of heart. By giving us the leadership of Jesus Christ, God equipped us with that heart, so let’s get back to using it. We have been called by Christ. Let us answer.

Now let us pray.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Sermon 06/15/08 (Matthew 10:24-39)

“What a Nice Father’s Day Message...”
Matthew 10:24-39
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 15 June, 2008
Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
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 On the second Sundays of May and June people across America flock to family gatherings to celebrate the parents who raised them. Of course, not everyone joyously celebrates Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. For some, the holidays are painful reminders of abuse, neglect, infertility, loss. But the pulse of America says we should find the perfect greeting card (the Hallmark elves spend all year preparing them for us), then top it off with the perfect gift. The past few weeks we have been able to find very special deals on “the grill Dad always wanted,” or “the perfect set of golf clubs” or a big screen TV.

In addition to the advertisements that implore us to consume, consume, consume, there are actually some signs that many people really care about their fathers. Schoolchildren make art projects for their daddies, and adult children travel long distances to be with their families. Even those who want nothing to do with Father’s Day are bombarded by it everywhere. We are supposed to grow up loving our Daddies (and they are supposed to love us), and that love is supposed to continue into adulthood. It’s the white picket fence image of the American family. That’s just the way we do things in this country! We are good, Christian, American citizens, and by George, we will follow the commandment to honor our father and mother! ...Hmmm...except for the fact that our “good, Christian, American” celebration of Father’s Day just went out the window with this morning’s Gospel:

“...I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-
in-law...Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me.”

Yep, it’s in the Bible, and yep, I read it on Father’s Day. And no, it would not work very well on a Hallmark card.

You should know me well enough by now to realize that I am a Daddy’s girl. I talk about my father a lot in sermons and went home to North Dakota recently to celebrate his birthday. You should also know me well enough by now to realize that I am a Christian. I read the scriptures and revere them as Holy Word. ...So, how do I reconcile these two things? How do I make sense of the fact that I adore my father, when the book that I revere is holy speaks about domestic strife as if it is a good thing?

The possible answers are tricky. Biblical scholar Fred Craddock explains that the author of Matthew’s gospel is using a particular style of writing in which “the result of an action is then stated as being the purpose of the action.”1 Craddock uses the example of the prophet Isaiah: “The result of Isaiah’s preaching was the hardening of hearts, and so Isaiah 6 says that Isaiah preached in order to harden hearts.”2 In the case of this morning’s Gospel reading, commitments made to Christ would often divide people from their families. Therefore, the writer says that the purpose of Christ’s call was to divide families. It is a contrary way of saying things, but knowing that the harshness of these words are due, in part, to a writing style, softens them a little. Maybe Christ doesn’t really want our families to fall apart; he just knows that Christian commitment might lead to division.

You have to remember that “Christianity” was extremely new when the Gospel of Matthew was written. It was not yet a separate religion; rather, there was a sub-set of Jews that worshiped Jesus of Nazareth as their Messiah. Being a Christ-follower was not a popular thing to be, and those who worshiped Christ -- whether they were Jews or Gentiles -- often did so at the risk of alienating their families. It would be like a teenager going off to join a cult: family members would have a difficult time understanding or supporting the one who left to join this weird, new religious movement.

You also must remember this: Jesus told those who he encountered to drop all they were doing in order to follow. People were not giving up an hour or two on a Sunday morning to go to church. They were giving up their entire lives. They were committing their very beings to Christian community and forsaking all other commitments, including their families. Yes, domestic strife tends to arise when we ignore our families for the sake of a new commitment. Yes, these people were committing themselves to God, but they were engaging in a new kind of worship that their family members likely did not understand. Matthew’s words are meant to strengthen the new Christian, so that he or she will come to see that this separation is painful but may be a necessary component of Christian commitment.

It is hard for us to see things this way through our eyes, which are so saturated with the long existence of Christianity. My dad and I are both part-time UCC ministers. We share that. It’s not like I ran away from home to become a Christian. I went to seminary with the blessing of both of my parents, and they fully support me as a minister. When Ben and I met he couldn’t quite believe he was dating a hospital chaplain, and the idea of Christian ministry is still a little weird to him, but he knew what he was getting into from the beginning. Neither my mom nor my sister attend church regularly, but they love and support my dad and me in our ministries.

It’s hard for us to see through the eyes of first century Christians, because we live in a culture that is accustomed to Christianity. Still, vestiges of Matthew’s first century warning remain, and are perhaps returning as Christianity loses prime real estate on the American landscape. Fewer people go to church than did several decades ago, so going to church is becoming a rebellious and strange thing to do once again. Children are expected to play sports games on Sunday mornings, and some coaches don’t take kindly to a child skipping a game because she is at church. I still remember when stores were required to be closed on Sundays. Now, as some of you unfortunately know, employees get in trouble when they insist on staying home so they can worship and rest on the Sabbath.

So, we have come full circle. In the very beginning, following Christ was extremely hard work. Then, for a few centuries, we sort of coasted along, and it was the non-Christians who would suffer. Now, 21st century American has become so secularized that followers of Christ are once again struggling to keep their commitments.

When Matthew writes about parents and children turning against each other, he is not telling me that I have to disown my parents in order to truly be a follower of Christ. What he is saying is that my Christian commitments must come before all else, including my immediate family. These are, indeed, hard words but they’re true.

As you gather with family this afternoon to celebrate Father’s Day, or as you feel angry, sad, or afraid on this day that will never be a “holiday” for you, I ask you to remember this. We are hopefully aware that there is not much sacredness in purchasing a big screen TV for our father, aside, perhaps from the love we pour out in order to get it. But even our less-expensive gestures, like a homemade card or special time together today, should pale in comparison to our love and commitment to God. These are hard words, for those of us who love our Daddies, and I confess that I really struggle to heed them. But, ultimately, our Parent in Heaven needs to come first. This means that we put off our Father’s Day celebrations in order to attend church, and if church lasts for three hours we stay for it. This means we pray to God before we spend hours making that special card. For those of you who are unable to celebrate Father’s Day because it is a reminder of abuse, infertility, grief, it means that you have the comfort of knowing that God comes first anyway.

Church is not going to last three hours today, and you will likely get out of here in time to have a Father’s Day brunch. But do not rush out the door right after the service. Linger a while, and continue worshiping God by celebrating fellowship with your neighbors. I hope that your Christian faith does not cause division within your family. But if it does, so be it. We are children of God before we are ever children of earthly parents, and we need to strive to keep God first. Make that commitment today.

Now let us pray.


1. Fred B. Craddock, John H. Hayes, Carl R. Holladay, and Gene M. Tucker, Preaching Through the Christian Year: Year A (Harrisburg: Trinity Press International, 1992), 337.
2. Ibid.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Sermon 06/01/08 (Matthew 7:21-29)

“The House on the Hill”
Matthew 7:21-29
Rev. Désirée H. Gold
St. Mark’s United Church of Christ, Baltimore, MD
Sunday, 1 June, 2008
Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
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 The very first weekend after I had moved to California I took a drive through the hills with my cousin John. Now, John is a geologist, and every time he would see one of those multimillion dollar houses precariously perched on the side of a hill, he would roll his eyes and grumble, knowing exactly what would happen when the next big earthquake hit. Sure, those houses have gorgeous views...but they’re a bad idea!

Apparently, unwise building locations are not limited to 21st century California:

“And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell -- and great was its fall!”

In this morning’s scripture lesson, the “wise man” is said to build on the rock, whereas the “foolish man” builds on the sand. The explanation is that a house built on rock will stand strong in the midst of the worst storms, whereas the house built on sand will crumble when the first storm hits.

In Northern California, we didn’t know a great deal about big storms. Out there it was earthquakes. In Fargo, North Dakota there it was the floods we would get nearly every spring. Still, people would insist on building big, beautiful houses...right next to the river. The neighborhood was lovely...until the inevitable flood would come along and wash away half the houses. It has been a long time since Baltimore has been seriously damaged by a hurricane, but I’m sure some of you remember some pretty bad storms. I have yet to go out to the Maryland shore, but I’m betting there are a few houses built in foolish places.

Everywhere we have bad weather, and everywhere we have both wise and foolish places to build. In California, it was: So... “the wise man builds his house in a wide valley, where it will be less precarious when the next landslide or earthquake hits. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the side of a hill. The earthquakes came and the landslides came, and the house shook -- and great was its fall!”

In Fargo it was: So... “the wise man builds his house far from the river, where it will be less likely to be destroyed by flood. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house at the golf course next to the river. The snows melted and the rains came and the water rose, and the house was flooded-- and great was its flooding!”

In Maryland, the original context might work -- the seaside house built on rock rather than on sand, so that it can withstand the storms that blow up off the water. The point is, we can recontextualize Matthew’s metaphor to better fit our own circumstances, whatever they may be. I believe it is always important to do this if we are to understand the meaning of our scriptures. But now that we have re-versed it a little, do we really understand this scripture any better? This is one of those scriptures that people recognize when they hear it (“Oh, yeah, yeah, the one about the house on the rock and the house on the sand!”)... and most of us are aware that it essentially telling us, “Don’t be an idiot!” But because the metaphor of the two houses is such a strong one, we tend to ignore the rest of the scripture around it...the stuff that is really important. What is it that Matthew has told us is wise... aside from building your house on rock? And what is it that is foolish...aside from building your house on sand? Yes, yes, the sentence about the wise man starts out with: “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like the wise man who...”

But what are “these words of mine” referring to?! What are we actually supposed to be doing in order to be like the wise man?! Unfortunately, the few verses we have heard this morning contain only the closing words of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount and do not contain the meat of the sermon -- what we are actually supposed to be doing in order to be considered wise. So, let me give you just a snippet of that wisdom: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you; but when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your alms may be done in secret. Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. In everything do unto others as you would have them do to you.”

Sound familiar? Yes, these (and some other justice-minded instructions) are what this house on rock vs. house on sand business is all about. “Everyone who does unto others as they would have done unto them is like the wise man who built his house upon the rock. Everyone who sees the speck in his neighbor’s eye but does not notice the log in his own eye will be like the foolish man who built his house upon the sand.” These things are what Jesus considers wise or foolish!

This is one of those scriptures we like to pin on other people too -- “You foolish person! You’re like the guy who built his house on the sand!” ...So I remind you of Jesus’ instruction against judging our neighbors. When we pin this scripture on other people, we are merely, in the words of Matthew’s gospel, missing that “log in our own eye!”

The closing words of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount contain another piece that we tend to miss. We hear the part about following godly instructions, and we hopefully heed that part to the best of our human ability. But have you noticed the words about overzealous religiosity? “On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?’ Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.’”

We all know people who are guilty of such hypocrisy, and we are hopefully aware that we do it too. We know people who go to church every Sunday and shout the name of God proudly whenever they have the chance...but then ignore the homeless person by the side of the road, do not even attempt to love their enemies, serve plenty more than two masters, and judge everyone from here to kingdom come...all the while proclaiming that godly justice is being done. Unfortunately, there have been plenty of “these kinds of people” in public office and in other positions of authority, with the ability to wreak tremendous havoc not only on individuals but on society at large. There have been egregious violations of human rights committed by those who will invoke the name of God at every step. And we need to stand up against the injustices -- without judgment of those committing such injustices -- yes, I know this is difficult, perhaps impossible.

If we, ourselves, are not to be hypocrites, we need to become aware of our own foolishness as well -- of the ways in which we, too, call ourselves faithful Christians but look the other way when others are in need. With all this talk of “houses on rock and sand” here, Jesus is essentially talking about sin...and sin is defined here as unjust action. Let us repent of our own sinfulness, of our own failure to love our enemies, by fighting for peace and justice throughout our world...by standing up against unjust actions...by reaching out to our neighbors “in secret,” but in big ways. And by praying for neighbor and enemy alike.

Now let us pray.