“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.
Monday, October 27, 2008
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.
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